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diff --git a/22396.txt b/22396.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8abcfd2 --- /dev/null +++ b/22396.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12694 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, King Arthur's Knights, by Henry Gilbert, +Illustrated by Walter Crane + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: King Arthur's Knights + The Tales Re-told for Boys & Girls + + +Author: Henry Gilbert + + + +Release Date: August 25, 2007 [eBook #22396] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KING ARTHUR'S KNIGHTS*** + + +E-text prepared by K. Nordquist, Sigal Alon, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 22396-h.htm or 22396-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/3/9/22396/22396-h/22396-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/3/9/22396/22396-h.zip) + + + + + +KING ARTHUR'S KNIGHTS: + +The Tales Re-Told for Boys & Girls + +by + +HENRY GILBERT. + +With Illustrations in Color by Walter Crane + + + + + + + +Thomas Nelson and Sons +New York, Edinburgh, London +Toronto, And Paris + + + + In tholde dayes of the King Arthour, + Of which that Britons speken great honour, + All was this land fulfilled of faery. + + _The Canterbury Tales._ + + + +Printed in the United States of America + + + + +PREFACE + + +This book is an attempt to tell some of the stories of King Arthur and +his Knights in a way which will be interesting to every boy and girl +who loves adventures. + +Although tales of these old British heroes have been published before +in a form intended for young people, it is believed that they have +never been related quite in the same spirit nor from the same point of +view; and it is hoped that the book will fill a place hitherto vacant +in the hearts of all boys and girls. + +No doubt many of you, my young readers, have at some time or another +taken down the _Morte D'Arthur_ from your father's bookshelves and read +a few pages of it here and there. But I doubt if any of you have ever +gone very far in the volume. You found generally, I think, that it was +written in a puzzling, old-fashioned language, that though it spoke of +many interesting things, and seemed that it ought to be well worth +reading, yet somehow it was tedious and dry. + +In the tales as I have retold them for you, I hope you will not find +any of these faults. Besides writing them in simple language, I have +chosen only those episodes which I know would appeal to you. I have +added or altered here and there, for in places it struck me that there +was just wanting a word or two to make you feel the magic that was +everywhere abroad in those days. It seemed to me that some mysterious +adventure might easily be waiting in the ruined and deserted Roman town +on the desolate moor, or even just round the mossy trunk of the next +oak in the forest-drive, through which the knight was riding; or that +any fair lady or questing dog which he might meet could turn out to be +a wizard seeking to work woe upon him. Nevertheless, I was always sure +that in those bright days when the world was young, whatever evil power +might get the mastery for a little while, the knight's courage, +humility, and faith would win through every peril at the end. + +In this book, besides reading of wonderful adventures and brave +fighting, you will learn just what sort of man a perfect knight was +required to be in the chivalrous times when men wore armour and rode on +errantry. The duties of a 'good and faithful knight' were quite simple, +but they were often very hard to perform. They were--to protect the +distressed, to speak the truth, to keep his word to all, to be +courteous and gentle to women, to defend right against might, and to do +or say nothing that should sully the fair name of Christian knighthood. + +Although, therefore, these stories of King Arthur and his men treat of +knights and their ladies, of magical trolls and wonder-working wizards, +and it might seem for that reason that they can have little or nothing +in common with life of the present day, it will be seen that the spirit +in which they are told conveys something which every boy can learn. + +Indeed, the great and simple lesson of chivalry which the tales of King +Arthur teach is, in a few words, to merit 'the fine old name of +gentleman.' + +The history of King Arthur and his Knights is contained in two books, +one being the _Morte D'Arthur_, written by Sir Thomas Malory, the other +being the _Mabinogion_, a collection of old Welsh stories, first +translated by Lady Charlotte Guest in 1838. I have selected thirteen +tales from the number which these two books contain; but there are many +more, equally as interesting, which remain. + +Little is known about Sir Thomas Malory, who lived in the fifteenth +century. We only learn that he was a Welshman, a man of heroic mind +who, as an old writer relates, 'from his youth, greatly shone in the +gifts of mind and body.' Though much busied with cares of state, his +favourite recreation was said to be the reading of history, and in this +pursuit 'he made selections from various authors concerning the valour +and the victories of the most renowned King Arthur of the Britons.' We +know, further, that these selections or tales were translated mostly +from poems about Arthur written by old French poets in the eleventh and +twelfth centuries, and that Sir Thomas Malory finished his translation +in the ninth year of King Edward the Fourth (1469). This, of course, +was before printing was introduced into England, but no doubt many +written copies were made of the book, so as to enable the stories to be +read to the lords and ladies and other rich people who would desire to +hear about the flower of kings and chivalry, the great King Arthur. +When, in 1477, Caxton set up his printing press at Westminster, the +_Morte D'Arthur_ was one of the books which then saw the light of day. + +The _Mabinogion_, which contains other tales about King Arthur, is a +collection of old Welsh romances. Though our earliest collection of +them is to be found in a manuscript written in the thirteenth or +fourteenth century, some of them are probably as old as the time when +Welshmen clothed themselves in the skins of the beaver and the bear, +and used stone for their tools and weapons. + +It may be that, when you get older, you will go back to the two books I +have mentioned, and you will find them so fascinating that you will be +impatient of any other book which pretends to tell you the same tales. +But until that time arrives, I hope you will find the stories as I have +told them quite interesting and exciting. + +HENRY GILBERT. + +_June_ 1911. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. PAGE + + I. HOW ARTHUR WAS MADE KING AND WON HIS KINGDOM 1 + + II. SIR BALIN AND THE STROKE DOLOROUS 32 + + III. HOW LANCELOT WAS MADE A KNIGHT. THE FOUR WITCH QUEENS, + AND THE ADVENTURES AT THE CHAPEL PERILOUS 52 + + IV. THE KNIGHT OF THE KITCHEN 72 + + V. HOW SIR TRISTRAM KEPT HIS WORD 101 + + VI. THE DEEDS OF SIR GERAINT 131 + + VII. HOW SIR PERCEVAL WAS TAUGHT CHIVALRY, AND ENDED THE + EVIL WROUGHT BY SIR BALIN'S DOLOROUS STROKE 164 + +VIII. HOW SIR OWEN WON THE EARLDOM OF THE FOUNTAIN 194 + + IX. OF SIR LANCELOT AND THE FAIR MAID OF ASTOLAT 229 + + X. HOW THE THREE GOOD KNIGHTS ACHIEVED THE HOLY GRAAL 250 + + XI. OF THE PLOTS OF SIR MORDRED; AND HOW SIR LANCELOT + SAVED THE QUEEN 278 + + XII. OF SIR GAWAINE'S HATRED, AND THE WAR WITH SIR LANCELOT 307 + +XIII. OF THE REBELLION OF MORDRED AND THE DEATH OF KING ARTHUR 333 + + + + +KING ARTHUR'S KNIGHTS + + + + +I + +HOW ARTHUR WAS MADE KING AND WON HIS KINGDOM + + +In the hall of his Roman palace at London, King Uther, Pendragon of the +Island of Britain, lay dying. He had been long sick with a wasting +disease, and forced to lie in his bed, gnawing his beard with wrath at +his weakness, while the pagan Saxons ravened up and down the fair broad +lands, leaving in their tracks the smoking ruin of broken towns and +desolated villages, where mothers lay dead beside their children on the +hearths, fair churches stood pillaged and desecrated, and priests and +nuns wandered in the wilds. + +At length, when the pagans, bold and insolent, had ventured near +London, the king had been able to bear his shame and anguish no longer. +He had put himself, in a litter, at the head of his army, and meeting +the fierce, brave pagans at Verulam (now called St. Albans) he had, in +a battle day-long and stubborn, forced them at length to fly with heavy +slaughter. + +That was three days ago, and since then he had lain in his bed as still +as if he were dead; and beside him sat the wise wizard Merlin, white +with great age, and in his eyes the calmness of deep learning. + +It was the third night when the king suddenly awoke from his stupor and +clutched the hand of Merlin. + +'I have dreamed!' he said in a low shaken voice. 'I have seen two +dragons fighting--one white, the other red. First the white dragon got +the mastery, and clawed with iron talons the red one's crest, and drove +him hither and thither into holes and crannies of the rocks. And then +the red one took heart, and with a fury that was marvellous to see, he +drove and tore the white dragon full terribly, and anon the white one +crawled away sore wounded. And the red dragon walked up and down in the +place of his triumph, and grew proud, and fought smaller red dragons +and conquered. Thus for a long time he stayed, and was secure and +boastful. Then I saw the white dragon return with a rage that was very +terrible, and the red dragon fought with him; but his pride had +softened him, so he drew off. Then other red dragons came upon him in +his wounds and beat him sore, which seeing, the white dragon dashed +upon them all--and I awoke. Merlin, tell me what this may mean, for my +mind is sore distraught with the vision.' + +Then Merlin looked at the trembling king, wasted with disease, and in +his wise heart was great pity. + +'It means, lord,' he said in slow grave tones, 'that thy people shall +conquer--that a red dragon shall rise from thy kin, who shall drive out +the loathsome pagan and shall conquer far and wide, and his fame shall +go into all lands and for all time.' + +'I thank thee, Merlin, for thy comfort,' sighed the wearied king. 'I +have feared me these last years that the pagan will at the last drive +my people into the western sea, and that the name of Christ shall die +out of this fair land, and the foul pagan possess it. But thy words +give me great heart.' + +'Nay, sir,' said Merlin, 'take comfort. Great power will come to this +people in a near time, and they shall conquer all their enemies.' + +Anon the king slept, and lay thus for three further days, neither +speaking nor moving. Many great lords and barons came craving to speak +with Merlin, asking if the king were not better. But, looking into +their crafty eyes, and seeing there the pride and ambitions of their +hearts, Merlin knew that they wished the king were already dead; for +all thought that King Uther had no son to take the kingdom after him, +and each great baron, strong in men, plotted to win the overlordship +when the king should be gone. + +'If he dieth and sayeth not which he shall name to succeed him,' some +asked, 'say, Merlin, what's to be done?' + +'I shall tell you,' said Merlin. 'Come ye all into this chamber +to-morrow's morn, and, if God so wills, I will make the king speak.' + +Next morn, therefore, came all the great barons and lords into the high +hall of the palace, and many were the proud and haughty glances passing +among them. There was King Lot of Orkney, small and slim, with his dark +narrow face and crafty eyes under pent eyebrows; King Uriens of Reged, +tall and well-seeming, with grim eyes war-wise, fresh from the long +harrying of the fleeing pagans; King Mark of Tintagel, burly of form, +crafty and mean of look; King Nentres of Garlot, ruddy of face, +blusterous of manner, who tried to hide cunning under a guise of +honesty; and many others, as Duke Cambenet of Loidis, King Brandegoris +of Stranggore, King Morkant of Strathclyde, King Clariance of +Northumberland, King Kador of Cornwall, and King Idres of Silura. + +Now, when all these were assembled about the bed of Uther, Merlin went +to the side of the sleeping king, and looked long and earnestly upon +his closed eyes. Anon he passed his hands above the face of the king, +and Uther instantly awoke, and looked about him as if startled. + +'Lord,' said Merlin, 'God's hand is drawing you to Him, and these your +lords desire you to name your successor ere you pass from life. Is it +not your desire that your son Arthur shall take the kingdom after you, +with your blessing?' + +Those who craned towards the bed started and looked darkly at Merlin +and then at each other; for none had heard of the son whom the wizard +named Arthur. Then in the deep silence the dying king raised his hand +in the sign of blessing, and in a hollow whisper said: + +'Such is my desire. With God's blessing I wish my son Arthur to take +this kingdom after me, and all that love me must follow him.' + +His eyes closed, a shiver passed down the tall frame as it lay beneath +the clothes, and with a sigh the soul of Uther sped. + +In a few days the king was buried in all solemnity with the dead of his +kindred in the Roman temple that had been made a church, where now +stands St. Paul's. Thereafter men waited and wondered, for the land was +without a king, and none knew who was rightfully heir to the throne. + +As the days went by, men gathered in groups in the market-place of +London, whispering the rumours that mysteriously began to fly from +mouth to mouth,--how King Lot of Orkney and Lothian was gathering his +knights and men-at-arms; and King Uriens and Duke Cambenet of Loidis +had got together a great host, although the remnant of the pagans had +fled the country. The faces of the citizens went gloomy as they thought +of the griefs of civil war, of the terrors of the sack of cities, the +ruin of homes, the death of dear ones, and the loss of riches. +Nevertheless, some were already wagering which of the great lords would +conquer the others, and take to himself the crown of Britain and the +title of Pendragon. + +As it neared the feast of Christmas, men heard that the Archbishop of +London, who was then chief ruler of the Church, had sent his letters to +each and all the great nobles, bidding them come to a great council to +be holden at the church of St. Paul at Christmas. + +When men heard that this was done by the advice of Merlin, faces +lightened and looked more joyful. + +'Now shall things go right,' said they, 'for the old, old Merlin hath +the deepest wisdom of all the earth.' + +On Christmas Eve the city throbbed with the clank of arms and the tramp +of the great retinues of princes, kings and powerful lords who had come +at the archbishop's summons, and by day and night the narrow ways were +crowded with armed men. Long ere the dawn of Christmas Day, the lords +and the common people betook themselves along the wide road which led +across to the church, which then stood in a wide space amid fields, and +all knelt therein to mass. + +While it was yet dark a great strange cry rang out in the churchyard. +Some ran forth, and there by the wall behind the high altar they saw a +vast stone, four-square, that had not been there before, and in the +middle thereof was stuck a great wedge of steel, and sticking therefrom +by the point was a rich sword. On the blade were written words in +Latin, which a clerk read forth, which said, 'Whoso pulleth this sword +out of this stone and wedge of steel is rightwise born King of all +Britain.' + +The clerk ran into the church and told the archbishop, and men were all +amazed and would have gone instantly to see this marvel, but the +archbishop bade them stay. + +'Finish your prayers to God,' he said, 'for no man may touch this +strange thing till high mass be done.' + +When mass was finished, all poured forth from the church and thronged +about the stone, and marvelled at the words on the sword. First King +Lot, with a light laugh, took hold of the handle and essayed to pull +out the point of the sword, but he could not, and his face went hot and +angry. Then King Nentres of Garlot took his place with a jest, but +though he heaved at the sword with all his burly strength, till it +seemed like to snap, he could not move it, and so let go at last with +an angry oath. All the others essayed in like manner, but by none was +it moved a jot, and all stood about discomfited, looking with black +looks at one another and the stone. + +'He that is rightwise born ruler of Britain is not here,' said the +archbishop at length, 'but doubt not he shall come in God's good time. +Meanwhile, let a tent be raised over the stone, and do ye lords appoint +ten of your number to watch over it, and we will essay the sword again +after New Year's Day.' + +So that the kings and lords should be kept together, the archbishop +appointed a great tournament to be held on New Year's Day on the waste +land north of the city, which men now call Smithfield. + +Now when the day was come, a certain lord, Sir Ector de Morven, who had +great lands about the isle of Thorney, rode towards the jousts with his +son, Sir Kay, and young Arthur, who was Sir Kay's foster-brother. When +they had got nearly to the place, suddenly Sir Kay bethought him that +he had left his sword at home. + +'Do you ride back, young Arthur,' he said, 'and fetch me my sword, for +if I do not have it I may not fight.' + +Willingly Arthur turned his horse and rode back swiftly. But when he +had arrived at the house, he found it shut up and none was within, for +all had gone to the jousts. Then was he a little wroth, and rode back +wondering how he should obtain a sword for his foster-brother. + +Suddenly, as he saw the tower of St. Paul's church through the trees, +he bethought him of the sword in the stone, about which many men had +spoken in his hearing. + +'I will ride thither,' said he, 'and see if I may get that sword for my +brother, for he shall not be without a sword this day.' + +When he came to the churchyard, he tied his horse to the stile, and +went through the grave-mounds to the tent wherein was the sword. He +found the place unwatched, and the flashing sword was sticking by the +point in the stone. + +Lightly he grasped the handle of the sword with one hand, and it came +forth straightway! + +Then, glad that his brother should not be without a sword, he swiftly +gat upon his horse and rode on, and delivered the sword to Sir Kay, and +thought no more of aught but the splendid knights and richly garbed +lords that were at the jousts. + +But Sir Kay looked at the sword, and the writing, and knew it was the +sword of the stone, and marvelled how young Arthur had possessed +himself thereof; and being of a covetous and sour mind he thought how +he might make advantage for himself. He went to his father, Sir Ector, +and said: + +'Lo, father, this is the sword of the stone, and surely am I rightful +king.' + +Sir Ector knew the sword and marvelled, but his look was stern as he +gazed into the crafty eyes of his son. + +'Come ye with me,' he said, and all three rode to the church, and alit +from their horses and went in. + +Sir Ector strode up the aisle to the altar, and turning to his son, +said sternly: + +'Now, swear on God's book and the holy relics how thou didst get this +sword.' + +Sir Kay's heart went weak, and he stammered out the truth. + +'How gat you this sword?' asked Sir Ector of Arthur. + +'Sir, I will tell you,' said Arthur, and so told him all as it had +happened. + +Sir Ector marvelled what this should mean; for Arthur had been given to +him to nourish and rear as a week-old child by Merlin, but the wizard +had only told him that the babe was a son of a dead lady, whose lord +had been slain by the pagans. + +Then Sir Ector went to the stone and bade Arthur put back the sword +into the wedge of steel, which the young man did easily. + +Thereupon Sir Ector strove with all his strength to draw the sword +forth again, but though he pulled till he sweated, he could not stir +the sword. + +'Now you essay it,' he said to his son. But naught that Sir Kay could +do availed. + +'Now do you try,' he bade Arthur. + +Arthur lightly grasped the handle with one hand, and the sword came out +without hindrance. + +Therewith Sir Ector sank to his knees, and Sir Kay also. And they bared +their heads. + +'Alas,' said Arthur, 'my own dear father and brother, why kneel ye so +to me?' + +'Nay, nay, my lord Arthur, it is not so,' said Sir Ector, 'for I was +never your father. I wot well ye are of higher blood than I weened. For +Merlin delivered you to me while yet ye were a babe.' + +The tears came into Arthur's eyes when he knew that Sir Ector was not +his father, for the young man had loved him as if he were of his own +blood. + +'Sir,' said Ector unto Arthur, 'will ye be my good and kind lord when +ye are king?' + +'Ah, if this be true as ye say,' cried Arthur, 'ye shall desire of me +whatsoever ye may, and I shall give it you. For both you and my good +lady and dear mother your wife have kept and loved me as your own.' + +'Sir,' said Sir Ector, 'I crave a boon of you, that while you live, +your foster-brother, Sir Kay, shall be high seneschal of all your +lands.' + +'That shall be done, and never man shall have that office but him, +while he and I live,' replied Arthur. + +Then hastily Sir Ector rode to the archbishop, and told him how and by +whom the sword had been achieved from the stone. Thereupon the +archbishop let call a great meeting on Twelfth Day of all the kings and +barons. + +So on the day appointed, all men gathered in the churchyard of St. +Paul's, and the tent was removed from about the stone. From day dawn to +the evening the kings and princes and lords strove each in his turn to +draw the sword from the stone. But none of them availed to move it. + +While they stood about, dark of look, gnawing their lips with rage and +disappointment, the archbishop turned privily to Sir Ector and bade him +bring Arthur. + +The young man came, quietly clad in a tunic of brown samite, of medium +height, with curly hair above a fair face of noble, though mild mien. +As he came among the richly clad nobles, they looked haughtily at him, +and wondered who he was and why he came, for as yet none had been told +that the sword had been drawn by him. + +The archbishop, tall, white-haired and reverend, called Arthur to him +and said in grave tones: + +'My son, I have heard a strange tale of thee, and whether it be true or +false, God shall decide. Now, therefore, do ye take hold upon this +sword and essay to draw it from the stone.' + +The proud barons, some with looks amazed and others with sneering +laughter, pressed about the young man as he stepped towards the stone. +Arthur took the handle of the sword with his right hand, and the sword +seemed to fall into his grasp. + +Thereat arose great cries of rage, and angry looks flashed forth, and +many a hand went to dagger haft. + +'Ho, archbishop!' cried King Lot, fiercely striding towards the tall +ecclesiastic, 'what wizard's brat are you foisting upon us here to draw +the sword by magic?' + +''Tis a trick!' cried Nentres of Garlot, his bluff manner falling from +him, and all the savage anger gleaming from his eyes. 'A trick that +shall not blind men such as we!' + +'Who is this beggar's boy that is put forth to shame us kings and +nobles?' said King Mark, and his hand sought his dagger as he +disappeared among the crowd and wormed his way towards where stood +young Arthur. But Sir Ector and Sir Kay, seeing the threatening looks +of all, had quickly ranged themselves beside young Arthur, and with +them went Sir Bedevere, Sir Baudwin and Sir Ulfius, three noble lords +who had loved King Uther well. + +'Peace, lords!' said the old archbishop, calmly meeting the raging +looks about him. 'Ye know what words are about the sword, and this +youth hath drawn the sword. I know naught of tricks or wizardry, but I +think high Heaven hath chosen this way of showing who shall be lord of +this land, and I think this young man is rightful King of us all.' + +''Tis some base-born churl's son that the wizard Merlin would foist +upon us!' cried the barons. 'We will have none of him!' + +'A shame and dishonour it is, so to try to overrule us, kings and lords +of high lineage, with an unknown youth,' cried others. + +'We will have the sword put back and set a watch over it,' cried King +Uriens, 'and we will meet here again at Candlemas, and essay the sword. +And at that time, my lord archbishop, thou shalt do the proper rites to +exorcise all evil powers, and then we will try the sword once more.' + +So was it agreed by all, and ten knights watched day and night about +the stone and the sword. + +But it befell at Candlemas as it had befallen at Twelfth Day, that for +all their strength and might, none of the kings or barons could draw +forth the sword; but into the hand of the unknown Arthur the weapon +seemed to fall. + +Whereat they were all sore aggrieved and rageful, and resolved that +they would have yet another trial at Easter. It befell at the feast of +Easter as it had befallen before, and this time the kings and lords for +angry spite would have fallen upon Arthur and slain him, but the +archbishop threatened them with the most dreadful ban of Holy Church. +They forbore, therefore, and went aside, and declared that it was their +will to essay the sword again at the high feast of Pentecost. + +By Merlin's advice the young Arthur went never about, unless the five +friends of Uther were with him, that is to say, Sir Ector and his son +Sir Kay, Sir Bedevere, Sir Baudwin and Sir Ulfius. And though at divers +times men were found skulking or hiding in the horse-stall, the dark +wood by the hall, or the bend in the lane, in places where Arthur might +pass, no harm came to him by reason of the loving watch of those noble +knights. + +Again at the feast of Pentecost men gathered in the churchyard of St. +Paul's, and the press of people was such that no man had ever seen the +like. Once more the kings and princes and great barons, to the number +of forty-nine, came forward, and each in turn pulled and drew at the +sword in the stone until the sweat stood on their brows. Nevertheless, +though the sword point was but the width of a palm in the stone, not +the mightiest of them could move it by the breadth of a hair. + +King Mark of Tintagel was the last of them who had to stand back at +length, baffled and raging inwardly. Many were the evil looks that +would have slain Arthur as he stood among his friends. + +Then a cry came from among the common people, and so strong was it that +the nobles looked as if they hated to hear it. + +'Let Arthur draw the sword!' was the call from a thousand throats. + +The venerable archbishop came and took Arthur by the hand, and led him +towards the sword. Again the young man held the rich pommel with his +single hand, and that which none of the forty-nine great men could do, +he did as easily as if he but plucked a flower. + +A fierce cry leaped from among the thousands of the common people. + +'Arthur shall be our King!' they cried. 'Arthur is our King! We will no +longer deny him!' + +Many of the princes and barons cried out with the commons that this was +their will also; but eleven of the most powerful and ambitious showed +by their arrogant and angry gestures that they refused to own Arthur as +their lord. + +For a long time the uproar raged, the cries of the common folk becoming +fiercer and more menacing against the counter cries of the eleven kings +and their adherents. + +At length from among the people there came the governor of London, who, +in his rich robes of office, leaped upon the stone where but lately the +sword had been. + +'My lords, I speak the will of the commons,' he cried, and at his voice +all were silent. 'We have taken counsel together, and we will have +Arthur for our King. We will put him no more in delay, for we all see +that it is God's will that he shall be our King, and who that holdeth +against him, we will slay.' + +With that he got down from the stone, kneeled before Arthur, put the +keys of the city in his hands, and rendered homage unto him. The great +multitude kneeled likewise, bowing their bare heads, and cried him +mercy because they had denied him so long. + +Because they feared the great multitude, the eleven kings kneeled with +them, but in their hearts was rage and rebellion. + +Then Arthur took the sword between his hands and, going into the +church, he laid it on the high altar, and the archbishop blessed him. +Then, since Arthur was as yet unknighted, King Kador of Cornwall, who +was brother of King Uther, made him a knight. + +Standing up in the sight of all the people, lords and commons, Arthur +laid his left hand upon the holy relics; then, lifting up his right +hand, he swore that he would be a true king, to stand forth as their +ruler in justice and mercy, to keep them from oppression, to redress +their wrongs, and to establish right throughout the length and breadth +of his dominions. + +Men went forth from the church in great joy, for now they had a king +they loved, and they felt that the land was safe from civil strife and +the griefs of war. + +When Arthur in his palace at London had received the homage of all the +lords and princes from the lands south of Humber, he appointed his +officers. Sir Kay he made seneschal or steward, and Sir Baudwin was +made constable, and Sir Ulfius he named chamberlain of his court. By +the counsel of Merlin he made Sir Bedevere Warden of the Northern +Marches, for the lands of the eleven kings lay mostly in the country +north of Trent, and though those princes had yielded lip service to +Arthur, Merlin knew that in their hearts they nurtured the seeds of +conspiracy. + +King Arthur made a progress through all his territories, staying at the +halls of those who did service for the lands they held of him, and he +commanded all those who had suffered evil or wrong to come to him, and +many came. The king's wrath when he heard a tale of women and orphans +wronged or robbed or evilly treated by proud or powerful lords and +knights, was terrible to see. Many were the pale captives he released +from their deep dungeons, many were the tears he wiped away, and hard +and heavy was his punishment of evil lords who thought their power +would for ever shield them from penalty for their cruelties and +oppression. + +When this was done, he caused a proclamation to be uttered, that he +would hold his coronation at the city of Caerleon-upon-Usk, at the +feast of Hallow-mass then following; and he commanded all his loyal +subjects to attend. When the time came, all the countryside on the +marches of Wales was filled with the trains of noblemen and their +knights and servants gathering towards the city. + +As Arthur looked from the window of the palace which the Romans had +builded, and which looked far and wide over the crowded roads, word was +brought to him that six of the kings who had resented his kingship had +come to the city. At this Arthur was glad, for he was full gentle and +kindly, and would liefer be friendly with a man than his enemy. + +Thinking that these kings and knights had come for love of him, and to +do him worship at his feast, King Arthur sent them many and rich +presents. But his messengers returned, saying that the kings and +knights had received them with insults, and had refused to take the +gifts of a beardless boy who had come, they said, of low blood. + +Whereat the king's eyes flashed grimly, but at that time he said no +word. + +In the joustings and knightly games that were part of the festival of +the coronation, the six kings ever ranged themselves against King +Arthur and his knights, and did him all the despite they could achieve. +At that time they deemed themselves not strong enough to hurt the king, +and therefore did no open act of revolt. + +Now it happened, when the feasting was over and many of the kings and +lords had departed home again, that Arthur stood in the door of his +hall that looked into the street, and with his three best nobles, Sir +Kay, Sir Bedevere and Sir Baudwin, he watched the rich cavalcades of +his lords pass out of the town. Suddenly, as he stood there, a little +page-boy, fair of face but for the pitiful sorrow and gauntness upon +it, dashed from the throng of a lord's retinue which was passing and +threw himself along the ground, his hands clutching the feet of the +king. + +'O King Arthur, save me!' the lad cried, spent of breath, 'or this evil +lord will slay me as he hath slain my mother and my brothers.' + +From the throng a tall black knight, leaping from his horse, strode +towards the boy, and would have torn his hands from their hold upon the +king's feet. + +'Back, sir knight!' said the king. 'I will hear more of this. Who are +you?' + +The knight laughed insolently. + +'I? Oh, I am one that the last king knew well to his sorrow. I am +Turquine, brother to Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower.' + +'What is this boy to you?' + +'He is Owen, the caitiff son of a brave father, who gave him to my care +to train in knightly ways. But 'tis a puling fool, more fitting for the +bowers of ladies.' + +'Nay, king, he lies!' said the lad who kneeled before the king. 'I am +his nephew. His hand slew my dear father treacherously, and he hath +starved my mother to her death. For our lands are rich while his are +poor, and my father warned me of him ere he died. This man hath kept me +prisoner, used me evilly, starving me and wealing me with cruel blows +daily. I think he hath my death in his heart.' + +'I can speak of this thing,' said a knight, who came forth from the +throng. 'I am Sir Miles of Bandon. I know this lad speaks truth, for +his father was mine own dear cousin. This Sir Turquine is a felon +knight.' + +The brow of the king went dark. He looked from the cruel insolent face +of the black knight to the wan beseeching face of the lad. + +'Hark ye!' said Arthur to Turquine, and his voice was terrible, for all +that it was very quiet, 'ye shall answer to me and my justice for any +evil you have done this young boy or his people. When I send for thee, +come at once, or it will be worse for thee. The boy stays with me. Now +begone!' + +The big knight looked with hatred and surprise in his eyes, and for a +while said naught. Then, with an insolent laugh, he turned and vaulted +on his horse. + +'I may come when thou dost not expect me, sir king!' he said, mocking, +and shot an evil look at the young page. + +Thenceforward the young page Owen stayed in the court, doing his +services deftly and quietly, with an eye ever on the king to do his +bidding. One night, when a storm raged and the town lay dark and quiet, +King Arthur sat in his hall. Sir Kay and Sir Bedevere told tales, or +the king's bard sang songs to amuse him, while about them moved young +Owen, noiseless of step, quick of eye, and as restless as an unquiet +spirit. + +Anon the lad would pass through the arras, creep to the great outer +door, and look at the porter in his room beside it. Then he would stand +at the wicket and listen to the rare footsteps pass down the road, and +when the rising wind keened and shrilled through the crannies, he would +glance about him with quick looks as if in fear of an enemy. + +Once he went to Falk, the king's porter, and said: + +''Tis a stormy night, Sir Falk. I doubt few are about the streets of +Caerleon on such a night.' + +'Few indeed,' said Falk. + +'Yet methought but now I heard the rattle of a bridle in the distance, +as if a steed stood in armour.' + +'I heard naught,' said Falk. ''Twould be but the grinding of a chain +beside a horseblock.' + +Young Owen went away, and sat where the king and his knights listened +to the marvellous tales of the wise Gildas, who told of most terrible +witches and warlocks in the wizard woods of Brittany. + +Again the lad approached the door and listened; then going to the +porter he said: + +'This drenching storm will tear the last poor leaves from the forest +trees, I ween, Sir Falk.' + +'Of a truth,' said the porter, ''tis overlate for leaves. They be stuck +in the mire of the rides long ere this.' + +'They could not be blown so far in this gushing storm,' said the page, +'and therefore I have deceived myself. But I thought I heard the rustle +of leaves on the stones before the door but now.' + +'It could not be,' said the porter; 'it was doubtless the gouts of +water from the roof of the hall thou didst hear.' + +Owen went away, but in a little while returned, and softly opened the +wicket panel in the door a little way, and looked forth into the +roaring darkness of rain and wind. + +'Think you, Sir Falk,' he said, going to the porter, 'that the witches +from the woods of Denn do send their baleful fires on such a night as +this to lead poor houseless wretches into the marsh below the wall?' + +The porter laughed. + +'Thou'rt over-full of fancies to-night, young sir,' he said. 'Have no +fear of witches. We're all safe and sound here till the blessed +daylight comes, and none need stir out till then.' + +'Methought I saw a flash in the dark but now,' said Owen, 'as if 'twas +the gleam of a sword or a wandering marsh fire.' + +'Not a doubt 'twas but a lightning flash,' returned the porter. 'Now go +ye, for I hear the king moving towards bed. Sleep soundly, lad; no need +to fear this night.' + +In a little while the palace was sunk in darkness, and in silence save +for the smothered cries of sleepers in their dreams. Outside, the rain +still sobbed at the eaves, and the wind beat at the narrow casements. +Time passed, and for all his weariness young Owen could not sleep. + +His spirit had been heavy all the day, and vague and dreadful fears had +haunted him. Something told him that the life of the beloved king, who +had taken him from the foul and cruel power of Sir Turquine, was +threatened. He rose in the dark from his pallet of straw in the hall +where lay the other pages, and stole softly out. He would make his way +to the king's door, and, wrapped in his cloak, would lie before it. + +He felt his way softly along the corridor in the deep darkness. +Suddenly he stopped. Something alive was near him in the dark. Even as +he turned, a hand seized him by the throat, and a hateful voice which +he knew growled in his ear: + +'Lead us to the king's room, or this shall sink in thy heart!' + +He knew at once that all his fears of the day and the night had been +true. He had indeed heard the stealthy footsteps before the door of the +hall, and had seen the dull gleam of a sword in the hand of one of +those who lay in wait to murder the king. + +'Speak!' said the voice again. 'Is the king's room backward or +forward?' + +'I will not tell thee!' he gasped, and heard a low mocking laugh. + +''Tis thee, my caitiff boy!' sneered Sir Turquine, for he it was. 'Then +this for thee!' + +With the words he thrust his dagger into the body of the struggling +boy, who swooned and dropped to the floor. + +In a few moments Owen stirred, for his struggles had caused his enemy's +dagger to swerve, and though weak from loss of blood, the young page +knew that he must act at once to save his hero from the murderous +knives. + +He heard the stealthy footsteps of the murderers going backwards to the +hall, and, filled with joy, he pressed forward. His head was dizzy, he +felt as if every moment he must sink in a swoon; but at length he +reached the door, turned the handle and fell in. + +'The king!' he cried. 'Save the king! Turquine has broken in and seeks +his life.' + +At his shrill cry there was the rush of men and torches along the +corridors and into the room. Sir Bedevere was at the head of them, and +in a moment he, with twenty half-dressed knights behind him, was +scattering through the palace seeking the murderers, while the king +ordered his leech or doctor to attend instantly to Owen's wound. + +This was soon found not to be severe, and the lad was laid at the foot +of the king's bed, glad and proud to hear the king's words of praise. + +Then Sir Bedevere entered, saying that the murderers had fled as soon +as they found they were discovered. + +'But, my lord king,' he said, 'this is no murderous attempt by one +insolent lord. It means, my king, that thou wilt have to fight for thy +kingdom. It is civil war!' + +'What mean you, Sir Bedevere?' + +'Sir Turquine is but one of them, my king,' replied Bedevere. 'He is +but the tool of the six kings who have put such great despite upon you. +For with them also in this midnight murder-raid I saw King Nentres of +Garlot and Duke Cambenet.' + +Suddenly, as he spoke, the tall grey form of Merlin took shape before +them, for so great and marvellous was the power of this wizard, that he +could come and go unseen, except when he willed that men should see +him. + +'Sir,' said Merlin, 'ye owe your life to this brave lad here, and he +shall be a passing good man when he shall have attained his full +strength, and he doth deserve your high and gracious favour.' + +'That shall he have,' said the king, and smiled at young Owen, and the +smile made the lad forget all the burning of his wound for very pride +and gladness. + +'And now,' said Merlin, 'if ye will gather your men I will lead you to +the hold of those murderous kings by a secret way, and ye should give +them such a sudden blow as will discomfit them.' + +In a little while all was ready, and then, silently, with muffled arms, +the men of Arthur were marching forth down the narrow dark lanes of the +town to where the place was ruinous with old houses left forsaken by +their Roman masters when they had gone from Britain fifty years before. + +Merlin led them to a great squat tower which stood beside the wall, +wherein a single light gleamed at a high window. Causing some to +surround this place, Merlin led others to a broken door, and there they +entered in. Then was there a sudden uproar and fierce fighting in the +rooms and up the narrow stairs. + +In the darkness King Lot, with a hundred knights, burst out through a +rear door, and thought to escape; but King Arthur with his knights +waylaid them, and slew on the right and on the left, doing such deeds +that all took pride in his bravery and might of arms. Fiercely did King +Lot press forward, and to his aid came Sir Caradoc, who set upon King +Arthur in the rear. + +Arthur drew from his side the sword he had so marvellously taken from +the stone, and in the darkness it flashed as if it were thirty torches, +and it dazzled his enemies' eyes, so that they gave way. + +By this time the common people of Caerleon had heard the great outcry +and the clang of swords on armour. Learning of the jeopardy of their +beloved king from midnight murderers, they ran to the tower, and with +clubs and staves and bills they slew many of the men of the evil kings, +putting the rest to flight. But the six kings were still unharmed, and +with the remnant of their knights fled and departed in the darkness. + +A few days later King Arthur journeyed back to London, and on an +evening when, in the twilight, he stood upon the roof of the palace +overlooking the broad Thames, he was aware of a shadow beside him where +no shadow had been before. Before he could cross himself against the +evil powers of wizardry and glamour, the steel-blue eyes of Merlin +looked out from the cloud, and the magician's voice spoke to him as if +from a great distance. + +'I stand beneath the shaggy brows of the Hill of Tanyshane,' said the +voice, 'and I look down into the courtyard of the castle of King Lot. +There I see the gathering of men, the flash of torches on their +hauberks, the glitter of helms, and the blue gleams of swords. I have +passed through these northern lands, from the windswept ways of Alclwyd +to the quaking marshes of the Humber. Eleven castles have I seen, and +each is filled with the clang of beating iron, the glow of smiths' +fires and the hissing of new-tempered steel. Call thy council, and +abide my return, for now you must fight for your kingdom, O king, and +for your very life.' + +The voice ceased, and the shadow and the vivid eyes it half concealed +died away with it. + +Into the council-chamber three days later, while men waited for they +knew not what, Merlin entered. + +'What news do you bring, Merlin?' they cried. + +'Of civil war!' he said. 'I warn you all that the six kings ye gave a +check to at Caerleon have taken to themselves four others and a mighty +duke. They will to thrust Arthur, whom they call base-born, out of his +life. Mark you, they are passing strong and as good fighting men as any +alive--pity it is that great Uriens is with them, the wisest and +noblest fighter of them all!--and unless Arthur have more men of arms +and chivalry with him than he can get within this realm, he will be +overcome!' + +'Oh, but we be big enough!' cried some. + +'That ye are not!' said Merlin. 'Which of ye have single-handed beaten +back the pagan hordes from your lands? Which of ye can match King Lot +for subtlety and craft, or the great Uriens of Reged for wisdom in +war?' + +'What is to do, then? Tell us your counsel,' said they all. + +'This is my advice,' replied the wizard. 'Ye must send an embassy to +King Ban of Brittany and King Bors of Gaul, promising to aid them when +King Claudas, their common enemy, shall fight them again, if they will +come and aid our king in this his fight for life and kingdom.' + +In a few weeks this was done. King Ban of Brittany and his brother, +King Bors, crossed into Britain with five thousand good knights, sworn +to aid Arthur in this great conflict. + +With King Ban came his son, young Lancelot, who was later to make more +fame and more dole than any knight of Arthur's court. + +On a day in early spring, the hosts of Arthur and his two allies were +encamped in Sherwood Forest, and the fore-riders or scouts, which +Merlin had sent out, came hastening in to say that the host of the +eleven kings was but a few miles to the north of Trent water. By secret +ways, throughout that night, Merlin led the army of Arthur until they +came near where the enemy lay. Then did he order an ambush to be made +by some part of their men, with King Ban and King Bors, by hiding in a +hollow filled with trees. + +In the morning, when either host saw the other, the northern host was +well comforted, for they thought King Arthur's force was but small. + +With the pealing of trumpets and the shouts of the knights, King Arthur +ordered his men to advance, and in their midst was the great silken +banner with the fierce red dragon ramping in its folds. This had been +blessed by the Archbishop of London at a solemn service held before the +host left London. + +All day the battle raged. Knight hurled and hurtled against knight, +bowmen shot their short Welsh arrows, and men-at-arms thrust and maimed +and slashed with the great billhooks and spears. + +King Arthur, with his bodyguard of four--Sir Kay, Sir Baudwin, Sir +Ulfius, and Sir Bedevere--did feats of arms that it was marvel to see. +Often the eleven kings did essay to give deadly strokes upon the king, +but the press of fighting kept some of them from him, and others +withdrew sore wounded from the attack upon him and his faithful four. + +Once the five held strong medley against six of the rebel kings, and +these were King Lot, King Nentres, King Brandegoris, King Idres, King +Uriens, and King Agwisance; and so fiercely did they attack them that +three drew off sore wounded, whilst King Lot, King Uriens and King +Nentres were unhorsed, and all but slain by the men-at-arms. + +At length it appeared to Arthur that his host was yielding before the +weight of numbers of the enemy, and then he bethought him of a +strategy. He took counsel of his nobles, and they approved; he sent a +trusty messenger to the Kings Ban and Bors, who still lay in ambush; +and then, commanding his trumpets to sound, he ordered a retreat. + +As had been agreed on, the knights on Arthur's side made their retreat +in a confusion that seemed full of fear; and the enemy, joyfully +shouting their cries of triumph, pursued them headlong. + +King Lot's host, led onward thus unthinking, were sure of victory. But +their cries of triumph were short and quickly turned to woe; for when +they had passed the place of ambush, they heard cries of terror in +their rear, and turning, they found a great host pouring forth from the +hollow combe, thick as angry bees from a hive. + +Then, indeed, taken in the rear and in the front, there was little hope +of victory, and King Lot's men fought for dear life. + +Seeing King Bors, where he hewed terribly in the press of battle, King +Lot, who knew him well, cried out: + +'Ah, Mary, now defend us from death and from horrible maims, for I see +well we be in fear of quick death! Yonder is King Bors, one of the most +worshipful and best knights in the world; and there is his twin +brother, King Ban, as terrible as he. How came they and their host into +Britain, and we not know it, alas?' + +'By the arts of that wizard Merlin, I doubt not,' said King Uriens. +'And I doubt not we shall all be sped. Look you, Lot,' he went on, +'whoever that Arthur may be, I'll swear by my head he is not of +low-born breeding, but a very man and a marvellous fighter.' + +'If you lose heart now, why, go and swear fealty to him!' sneered King +Lot. + +'Keep your sneers,' said Uriens sternly. 'I'll pay the price of +rebellion to my last breath, as I have vowed.' + +By now the great mass of King Lot's host was either slain or run away, +and the evening drew on; but the eleven kings, wounded, spent, and full +of anguish at defeat, drew together with a few hundred of their +knights, and vowed to die fighting. When they looked to see where they +stood, they found that Arthur had penned them upon a little bluff of +land that ended steeply over a deep river, and that no way was open for +them to escape from the death of swords, unless they chose to leap on +the rocks below the cliff. + +'See!' said Uriens, with a laugh, 'while we fought like wild boars, and +thought of nothing but the killing, this base-born king kept his wits +and moved us like pawns on a chessboard, we all unwitting. First, he +drew us into ambush, and now he thrusts us into a chasm. We war-wise +fighters, grown grey in battle, checkmated by a boy!' + +Nevertheless, though wearied, full of dread and shame, and looking +death in the eyes, the little band of men withdrew backwards, waiting +until Arthur should command his lines of glittering knights to dash +upon the remnant of the rebel kings. + +'The proud evil men!' said Arthur in anger, looking upon them. 'Though +they know death is upon them, they will not crave mercy of me, a +base-born king, as they name me!' + +'Ah, sir king,' said King Ban, 'blame them not, for they do as brave +men ought to do, and they are the best fighting men and the knights of +most prowess that ever I saw. And if they were belonging unto you, +there would be no king under heaven to compare with you for power and +fame and majesty.' + +'I cannot love them,' said Arthur sadly, 'for they would destroy me.' + +'Now, this is my counsel,' said King Lot to his ten fellows, as he +looked over the field strewn with the dead: 'that we stand together in +a circle and swear to die together--we and our few knights. We have +aimed at a kingdom and a crown, and we have failed. But we will die +like kings and warriors. When they press upon us at the last, let no +one of us break away. If any see another dress him to flee or to yield, +let him slay him. How say ye?' + +'It is good!' said they all. + +Then, for all their aching wounds, they mended their broken harness +hurriedly, and righted their shields, took new spears from the hands of +their squires, and set them upright on their thighs, and thus, with the +low red light of the westering sun behind them, they stood still and +grim, like a clump of tall leafless trees. + +Arthur gave the order to advance, and his knights leaped forward over +the heap of the slain. But just then Sir Kay came to the king, bringing +a knight from the north who had just been captured, bearing messages to +the eleven kings, and Arthur asked him who he was and why he came. + +'Sir king,' said the man, 'I am Sir Eliot of the March Tower, and I +have ill tidings for my master, King Uriens, and his friends, but it +seems my news is no worse than their fate. If my great lord is to die, +I would lief die with him. Therefore, lord, despatch me now, or let me +go stand beside my lord in the last rally.' + +'What is thy news?' asked King Arthur. + +'It is that the pagans, the savage Saxons, have landed in three places +beyond Humber, and all the lands of my lord and his ten fellows shall +suffer fire and sword again.' + +'But if I slay your master and his fellow-rebels, whose lands are those +the pagans overrun?' + +'Yours, lord, of a truth, if you can dash the pagans from them.' + +'If I and my host have swept these rebel kings from before me, think +you I cannot sweep the Saxons from the land?' + +'I trow you could, sir king, for on my way hither I have heard of the +marvellous deeds this day of yourself and your knights. But, lord, I +see the press of knights about my dear lord. Ah, that I might strike a +blow for him before I die!' + +'Thou shalt strike a-many yet,' said Arthur, and Sir Eliot marvelled. + +Arthur commanded his trumpets to blow the retreat, and the knights, +wondering and half unbelieving, withdrew them from about the eleven +kings. + +Then, surrounded by his chief lords, Arthur rode to the group of +wearied kings, who, with dented and broken harness, from which the +blood oozed in many places, still kept their seats with undaunted mien. + +At King Arthur's command Sir Eliot told his news to King Uriens. + +'Now this I have to say to ye,' said Arthur, lifting his vizor and +showing a stern countenance. 'Ye are in my hands, to slay or spare as I +choose. But ye have fought like brave men, and I would that, for your +prowess, ye were my friends rather than mine enemies. Now this I have +to offer ye. Swear here and now to be my lieges, as ye were to King +Uther before me, and I will aid thee to thrust the pagans from your +land, and thenceforth we will aid and cherish each other as true +subjects and true lords should do. But if ye refuse, then your folly be +on your own heads, for then I take your lives and your lands both.' + +With that King Uriens threw down his sword and put up his vizor, and +turning to the others, said: + +'Fellow-rebels, we should be mad to refuse gifts so kingly and kindly +offered. We have tried a throw with this young king, and we have been +worsted. Better now to own ourselves lesser men than this wise lad +here, and try to live in peace with him henceforth.' + +The other kings agreed, but King Lot, mean and revengeful, and the +Kings Nentres and Brandegoris, suspicious that, as had been too often +with themselves, fair words had covered foul intent, held back a +little, until the others swore to leave them to the penalty of their +folly. Whereupon they all knelt down upon the stricken field, and each +put his hands between the hands of King Arthur, and swore upon the +honour of their knighthood to be his true and faithful men while they +lived. + +As they rose from rendering their homage, Merlin came riding on a great +black horse. + +'Ye have done wisely well, my king,' he said. 'For by this kingly deed +you shall rivet the hearts of the good men among these former rebels +closer to your own than with rivets of steel. Thus well and wisely have +ye won your kingdom and the fealty of these brave men.' + +'Now,' he went on to the eleven kings, 'ye doubted whether Arthur was +of noble birth, and rightful king. Know ye that he is the son of the +noble King Uther, who by my counsel hid him away on his birth. Ye will +remember how Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, hated Uther for taking Igraine +for wife, whom Gorlois had captured and sworn to wed for her beauty and +her wealth. And how all the turbulent lords did cling to Gorlois, and +how for years King Uther had much ado to keep those rebels from +dismembering the kingdom. Gorlois had vowed to slay by poison or +treachery any son of Uther's, and so I took young Arthur into safe +keeping. None knew of him until King Uther named him as his rightful +heir upon his deathbed in the presence of you all. So, therefore, ye do +well to give your homage to this your king, for Arthur is the son right +worshipful of the great Pendragon, and the lovely lady, Igraine of +Lyonesse.' + +All that stood by marvelled, and most of the eleven kings were glad +that they had a king so noble in birth and doing as Arthur, the son of +Uther Pendragon. + + + + +II + +SIR BALIN AND THE STROKE DOLOROUS + + +It happened that on a day King Arthur, wandering from his court, had +fought and vanquished a valiant knight, but he himself had been sore +wounded. Merlin, coming to his aid, had taken him to a hermit's cave, +and there with many marvellous salves had searched his wounds, so that +in three days the king was whole again. + +Riding forth together, Merlin led the king deeper and deeper into a +wild and desolate country where he had never been before, and where +there were no pathways. Arthur looked to and fro over the waste, but +saw no sign of man or beast, and no bird flitted or piped. Great gaunt +stones stood upright on the hillsides, solitary or in long lines as if +they marched, or else they leaned together as if conspiring; while +great heaps or cairns of stone rose here and there from the +lichen-covered and rocky soil, in which the grass grew weakly in small +crevices. + +The mists now rose and drifted before them as they rode, the light was +low and sallow, and the wind began to whisper shrilly among the great +stones, and in the crannies of the cairns. + +The king crossed himself, and looked at the white, old, and wrinkled +face of Merlin; but the wizard seemed sunk in thought. Then Arthur +bethought him that, in case some fiend-shape or wizard-knight should +assail him in that desolate waste, he could not defend himself, +inasmuch as his sword--the sword he had drawn from the stone--had +snapped when he fought the knight, and he had no other weapon with him. + +'Merlin,' he said, 'this is a place of ancient death and terror, and if +aught should assail us of evil, I have no sword.' + +'For that reason I bring thee here,' replied Merlin, and would not +utter another word. + +Then, through the mists, which writhed and twisted as if they were fell +shapes that would tear down the passing riders, Arthur became aware +that their way was leading downwards, and soon the smell of water rose +up to him. + +He heard the beat and suck of waves upon a shore, and in a little while +the mists cleared as if at a word, and there before him Arthur saw a +lonely lake or sea, hedged round with salt-rimed reeds and sedges, and +stretching out its waters, dull and leaden-hued, to so great a distance +that his eye could see no end. + +'What is this place?' he asked of Merlin. + +'It is the Lake of the Endless Waters,' said the wizard. + +'Why bring ye me to this desolate lake in the wilderness?' + +'You shall visit it once more--ere you die!' replied Merlin. 'But look +you there in the midmost of the lake.' + +Looking to where the wizard pointed, Arthur saw a great hand, clothed +in white samite, stretched above the lapsing waves, and in its grasp +was a long two-handed sword in a rich scabbard. + +With that they saw a barge riding over the water, and it came without +oars or any sail, and in the prow sat a woman, tall and comely, with a +face lovely but sad. A frontlet of gold and pearls was bound about her +rich red hair, and her robes, of green samite, fell about her as if +they were reeds of the shore. + +'What lady is that?' said the king. + +'It is the Lady of the Lake,' said Merlin, 'and she comes to you. Now, +therefore, speak fair to her, and ask that she will give you that +sword.' + +Then the barge rasped among the reeds where Arthur sat on his horse, +and the lady said: + +'Greeting to you, O king!' + +'Greeting, fair damsel!' replied Arthur. 'What sword is that which the +arm holdeth above the water? I would it were mine, for I have none.' + +'Sir king,' said the lady, 'that sword is mine; but if ye will give me +a gift when I ask it of you, and will swear an oath to give me back the +sword when ye shall be dying, then shall ye have it.' + +'By my faith, I will give ye the gift when ye shall desire, and when I +am dying I will truly give back the sword.' + +'Then do you step into this barge and row yourself unto the hand and +take from it the sword. And know ye that the name of that sword is +Excalibur, and while you keep the scabbard by your side, ye shall lose +no blood, be ye never so sore wounded.' + +So King Arthur and Merlin alighted, tied their horses to two stunted +trees, and went into the barge. The king turned to look to where the +tall green lady had stood but a moment before, and marvelled to see +that she had vanished. + +When they came to the sword which the hand held, King Arthur saw that +the water where the hand rose forth was all troubled, and he could see +naught. He took the sword by the handle, and the great fingers of the +hand opened and then sank. So they came afterwards to the land, and +rode on their way to Camelot, and reached it after many days. + +When King Arthur entered his hall, and had been welcomed by his +knights, the seneschal brought forth a messenger, who had come from +King Rience of North Wales, and the man with insolent looks uttered +this message: + +'My lord, King Rience, hath but now discomfited and overwhelmed seven +kings, and each hath done him homage, and given him for a sign of their +subjection their beard clean cut from their chins. And my lord hath +caused a rich mantle to be hemmed with these kings' beards, and there +yet lacketh one place. Wherefore my lord hath sent me to demand that ye +give him homage and send him thy beard also. Or else he will enter thy +lands, and burn and slay and lay waste, and will not cease until he +hath thy head as well as thy beard.' + +'Now this is the most shameful message that any man sent to a king!' +said Arthur, 'and thy king shall rue his villainous words.' Then he +laughed a little grimly. 'Thou seest, fellow, that my beard is full +young yet to make a hem. So take this message back to thy master. If he +will have it, he must wait until I grow older; but yet he shall not +wait long before he sees me, and then shall he lose his head, by the +faith of my body, unless he do homage to me.' + +So the messenger departed, and King Arthur set about the ordering of +his army to invade the land of Rience. + +Later, on a day when the king sat in council with his barons and +knights, there came a damsel into the hall, richly beseen and of a fair +countenance. She knelt at the feet of the king, and said humbly: + +'O king, I crave a boon of ye, and by your promise ye shall grant it +me.' + +'Who are ye, damsel?' asked the king. + +'My lord, my lady mother hath sent me, and she is the Lady of the +Lake.' + +'I remember me,' said Arthur, 'and thou shalt have thy boon.' + +Whereat the damsel rose and let her mantle fall, that was richly +furred, and then they saw that she was girded about the waist with a +great sword. + +Marvelling, the king asked, 'Damsel, for what cause are ye girded with +that sword?' + +'My lord,' said the damsel, in distress and sadness, 'this sword that I +am girded withal, doth me great sorrow and remembrance. For it was the +sword of him I loved most tenderly in all the world, and he hath been +slain by falsest treachery by a foul knight, Sir Garlon, and nevermore +shall I be joyful. But I would that my dear love be avenged by his own +good sword, which my lady mother hath endowed with great enchantment. +And the knight of thine that shall draw this sword shall be he who +shall avenge my dead love. But he must be a clean knight, a good man of +his hands and of his deeds, and without guile or treachery. If I may +find such a knight, he shall deliver me of this sword, out of the +scabbard, and with it do vengeance for me.' + +'This is a great marvel,' said King Arthur, 'and while I presume not to +be such a knight as thou sayest, yet for ensample to my knights will I +essay to draw the sword.' + +Therewith the king took the scabbard and drew at the sword with all his +strength, but in no wise could he make it come forth. + +'Sir,' said the damsel, 'ye need not draw half so hard, for lightly +shall it come into the hands of him who shall draw it.' + +Then the king bade all his knights to attempt this feat, and all tried +their best, but it was of no avail. + +'Alas!' said the damsel in great sadness. 'And shall my dear love go +unavenged, because there is no knight here who shall achieve this +sword?' + +She turned away through the crowd of knights who stood abashed about +her, and went towards the door. + +It happened that there was a poor knight in the court of King Arthur, +who had been a prisoner for a year and a day, by reason of his having +slain a kinsman of the king's. His name was Sir Balin the Hardy, and he +was a good man of his hands, though needy. He had been but lately +released from durance, and was standing privily in the hall and saw the +adventure of the damsel with the sword. Whereat his heart rose, both to +do the deed for the sorrowing maid and because of her beauty and +sadness. Yet, being poor and meanly arrayed, he pushed not forward in +the press. + +But as the damsel went towards the door, she passed him, and he said: + +'Damsel, I pray you of your courtesy to suffer me as well to essay as +these knights, for though I be poorly clothed, my heart seemeth fully +assured that I may draw the sword, and thy sorrow moveth me.' + +The damsel lifted her large sad eyes to him, and she saw he was goodly +of form and noble of look, and her heart was stirred. + +'Though ye be poor, worthiness and manhood are not in a man's rich +raiment, and therefore,' she said with a sorrowful smile, 'do you essay +the sword also, good knight, and God speed you.' + +Balin took the sword by the scabbard, and drew it out easily, and when +he looked upon the sword it pleased him well. + +Then had the king and barons great marvel, but some of the knights had +great spite against Balin. + +'Truly,' said the damsel, 'this is a passing good knight, and the best +man of ye all, and many marvels shall he achieve. But now, gentle and +courteous knight,' she said, 'give me the sword again.' + +'Nay, this sword will I keep,' said Balin. + +'Ye are not wise,' said the maiden sorrowfully. 'My lady mother sent +the sword to find which was the knight the most worthy to rid the world +of an evil knight that doeth his foul treacheries and murders by +wizardry, but if ye keep the sword it shall work great bane on you and +on one you love most in this world.' + +'I shall take the adventure God shall ordain for me,' said Balin, 'be +it good or ill.' + +The damsel looked sadly into his eyes and wept. + +'I am passing heavy for your sake,' she said. 'I repent that I have +brought this to you, for I see you lying wounded unto death, and I +shall not be near to comfort you.' + +With that the damsel departed in great sorrow. + +Anon Balin sent for his horse and armour, and took his leave of King +Arthur, who was almost wroth that he should depart upon a quest that +promised but misfortune. He would have him stay with him in his court, +but Balin would not, and so departed. + +For many days, by lonely ways and through forest drives, Sir Balin +fared, seeking for the felon knight Sir Garlon, but nowhere could he +get word of him. At length one night, as he made his way to a hermitage +by the edge of a thick wood, he saw the arms of his younger brother, +Sir Balan, hung upon a thorn before the holy man's door. Just then Sir +Balan came out and saw him, and when he looked on Balin's shield, which +had two crossed swords, he recognised his brother's device, and ran to +him, and they met and kissed each other, and that night they were happy +together, for it had been long since that they had parted; and each +told the other his adventures. + +'It seemeth, then, that this King Arthur is a right worshipful lord,' +said Balan, when his brother had told him the adventure of the damsel +and the sword, 'but I doubt me he will not withstand King Rience and +his host. Already that king hath come into this land and is harrying +and burning.' + +'That were great pity,' said Balin, 'and I would that I could do some +deed to stay the power of Rience, who is evil-minded and of an arrogant +nature. I would put my life in any danger to win the love of the great +Arthur, and to punish King Rience for his shameful message.' + +'Let us go then to-morrow,' said Balan, 'and try our prowess. King +Rience lieth at the siege of the castle Terabil, within ten leagues of +this place.' + +'I will well,' said Balin, 'and if we slay King Rience, his people will +go astray and King Arthur shall easily make them yield.' + +Next morning early they rode away through the gay woods, drenched with +dew, which sparkled where the sunlight lit upon it. Long and lonely was +the way, until towards the evening they met with a poor old man on +foot, ragged, lame, and dirty, and bearing a great burden. It was in a +narrow ride of the forest, and there was but room for one person to +pass, and though the brothers were making great speed, since they +doubted they had lost their way, they would not ride down the poor man, +as many knights would do. + +But Balin, with a cheery call, said: 'Old man, give me thy pack, and do +thou climb up and sit behind me. For it is late and lonely that such +poor old bones as thine should be abroad.' + +The old man, either from fear of the two great knights in their black +armour, or from suspicion, mumbled out a few words and refused the +offer, while yet he would not budge from the narrow path. + +'Well, then, tell us thy name, old man,' said Balin, laughing at his +obstinacy. + +'At this time I will not tell you,' croaked the old fellow, stumbling +under his pack. + +'I doubt that great pack hath many rich things that never owned thee +master,' said Balan with a laugh. + +'It is full evil seen,' said Balin, 'that thou art a true honest man, +when thou wilt not tell thy name.' + +'Be that as it may,' snarled the old man, 'but I know your name, my +lordlings, and why you ride this way.' + +'By the faith of my body, but ye are some wizard if ye know that,' said +Balan mockingly. + +'And who may we be?' asked Balin. 'And whither do we ride?' + +'Ye are brothers, my Lords Balin and Balan,' answered the old man. 'And +ye ride to pull King Rience's beard. But that ye shall not do, unless +ye take my counsel.' + +'Ah!' cried Balin, 'I know thee, Merlin! We would fain be ruled by thy +counsel, old magician.' + +So it came about, with Merlin's aid, that Balin and Balan came upon +King Rience that night with but a small band of his knights, and with a +sudden attack out of the dark wood the two brothers seized the king and +slew many of his men that tried to save him. And when they had ridden +some way towards Camelot with the king, wounded and bound, between +them, Merlin vanished from beside them. + +Then they rode to Camelot at the dawning, and delivered Rience to the +porter at the gate, to be led to King Arthur when he should sit in +hall, and the two knights rode away. So, by the capture of King Rience, +his host was put to naught, and the king paid his homage to King +Arthur, and swore on the sacred relics of the Abbey of Camelot to be +his true man while he should live. + +At that time Balin could not meet with the felon knight, Sir Garlon, +who wrought evil by wizardry, and he and his brother went their +different ways seeking adventure. Sir Balin returned to King Arthur and +became one of his most valiant knights. + +It happened on a day that King Arthur journeyed with his knights from +Camelot to London, and he lay in his pavilion in the heat of the day. +As he rested he heard the noise of a horse, and looking out of the flap +of his tent, he saw a strange knight passing, making great complaint +and sorrowing, and with him was a damsel. + +'Abide, fair sir,' said Arthur, 'and tell me wherefore you are +troubled.' + +'Ye may little amend it,' answered the knight, and passed on. + +Later came Sir Balin and saluted the king, who told him of the strange +knight sorrowing as he rode, and the king bade him follow and bring +back the knight to him, 'for,' said he, 'the sorrows of that knight +were so piercing that I would fain know his grief.' + +Sir Balin took horse and lance and rode many miles through the forest, +and by evening he came upon the knight and the lady. + +'Sir knight,' said Balin, 'ye must come with me unto my lord, King +Arthur, for to tell him the cause of your sorrow.' + +'That will I not,' answered the knight, 'for it would do me none +avail.' + +'Sir, make ready,' replied Balin, 'for ye must needs go with me, or +else I will fight with you and take you by force.' + +'No heart have I to fight, for all joy of life is dead with me,' said +the knight, 'but I am on a fierce quest, and ye must be my warrant if I +go with you that I be not kept from my quest.' + +'I will gladly warrant you,' said Balin, and together with the lady +they turned back. + +'I fear not to tell you my sorrow,' said the knight as they rode. 'I +but lately returned from fighting the pagans in the north, and when I +came to my father's hall, men told me that the lady that I loved most +tenderly had been robbed away by a villain knight. And as I sorrowed +and went forth to seek the knight to slay him, lo, there I saw my lady, +who had escaped unscathed from his evil hold. And much joy we made of +each other, for we loved each other tenderly. But even as we kissed, +there came an arrow through the air and pierced my dear lady to the +heart, so that she fell dead in my arms. And there was none to see who +shot the arrow, but men said it was the felon knight who had taken my +lady, and he had killed her by black magic. So now with this damsel, my +dear sister, who was her friend, do I go through the world seeking the +invisible knight. And when I find him, with God's help I will surely +slay him.' + +The good knight Balin was much moved by the sad story. + +'Ah!' said he, 'it is the same fell knight whose death I seek by this +good sword. And we will fare together, you and I, and take his evil +life when God leads us to him.' + +Even as Sir Balin spoke, out of a dark glade by their side came a lance +hurtling, as if held in rest by an invisible rider, and while they +turned their heads at the sound of its hissing through the air, it +pierced the side of the sorrowing knight and stood deep in the wound. + +'Alas!' cried the knight, falling from his horse, 'I am slain by the +traitorous and wizard knight. His punishment is not for me, sir knight, +but I charge you, seek him out and slay him for my sake, and for the +sake of my dead lady.' + +'That will I do,' said Balin, sorrowing, 'and thereof I make a vow to +you and this damsel by my knighthood.' + +When Balin had told all to his lord, King Arthur, the king made the +knight to be buried in a rich tomb, and on it engraved his sad story, +together with his name, Sir Herlew, and that of his lady love, +Gwenellen. + +Balin and the damsel rode forward the next day and for many days, and +ever the lady bore the truncheon of the spear with her by which Sir +Herlew had been slain. + +Then on a day they lodged at the house of a rich knight named Sir +Gwydion, an old grey gentleman, of a sad aspect. When night came, Sir +Balin lay sleeping in the hall beside the fire, and suddenly he awoke +at the sound of one sorrowing quietly near him. He rose up and went to +the pallet and saw it was his host, and he asked him why he mourned in +the dark. + +'I will tell you,' said the old sad knight, 'and the telling will +comfort me. I was but late at a jousting, and there I jousted with a +knight that is brother to good King Pellam. And a full evil kinsman is +this knight of so good a king. I smote the evil man from his horse +twice, and he was full of rage that I, an old man, should overcome him. +Therefore by treachery he assailed my son, a young and untried knight, +and slew him. And I cannot avenge my dear son, for the evil man goeth +invisible. But I pray that I may meet him in a little while.' + +'Is not his name Garlon?' asked Balin. + +'Ye say right,' said Sir Gwydion. + +'Ah, I know him,' replied Balin, 'and I had rather meet with him than +have all the gold of this realm.' + +'That shall we both do,' said his host. 'For King Pellam, his brother, +king of the land of Holy Hallows, hath made a cry in all this country, +of a great feast that shall be in twenty days, and that evil knight, +your enemy and mine, shall we see there.' + +On the morrow they rode all three towards the town of King Pellam, and +when they came within the country of Holy Hallows, Sir Balin saw how +fair and happy was the land and its joyful people. Their meadows were +rich with grass, the cattle were thriving and sleek, the trees were +loaded with fruit and the cornfields full with rich ripe corn. + +'Why doth it seem,' asked Balin, 'that this country is the fairest and +happiest that ever I saw?' + +'It is for this,' said Sir Gwydion, 'that in the Castle of Holy +Hallows, whither we wend, King Pellam hath some holy relics of a +passing marvellous power, and while he keepeth these his land is rich +and happy, and plagues cannot enter it nor murrain, nor can pestilence +waste the people.' + +When they reached the castle they found a great throng of lords and +ladies, and because Sir Gwydion had no lady with him he could not sit +at the feast. But Balin was well received and brought to a chamber, and +they unarmed him. The squires brought him a festal robe to his +pleasure, but he would not suffer them to take his sword. + +'Nay,' said he, 'it is my vow that never shall I and my sword be +parted, and that vow will I keep or depart as I came.' + +So they suffered him to wear it under his robe, and he was set in the +hall with his lady beside him. Anon, when the meal was ended and the +mead horns were set, Sir Balin asked his neighbour whether there was a +knight at that court named Garlon. + +'Yonder he goeth,' said the knight; 'he with that dark face and +piercing eye. He is the most marvellous knight that is now living, and +though King Pellam loveth him dearly, because he is his brother, yet he +suffers bitterly the evil magic of Sir Garlon. For that knight rideth +invisible, and slays so that none may know how they get their death.' + +Sir Balin's heart rose at these words, and he trembled with his great +anger. + +'Ah, well,' said the good knight. 'And that is he?' + +He considered long within himself what he should do. + +'If I slay him here in this crowded hall,' he said, 'I shall surely not +escape, and if I leave him now, peradventure I shall never meet with +him again, and much evil will he do if he be let to live.' + +He could not remove his eyes from Sir Garlon where he walked between +the tables, proudly talking and laughing with those he knew, and making +soft speeches to ladies, though many showed fear of him, and crossed +their fingers while he spoke to them, to fend off the evil of his eyes. +Very soon Sir Garlon noticed the fixed, stern look of Sir Balin, and +came across to him and flicked his gauntlet across his face. + +'This shall make thee remember me when next thou seest me, knight,' he +said. 'But thou hadst better do what thou camest for, and fill thyself +with mead.' + +'Thou sayest sooth,' said Balin, and clutched the sword under his robe. +'Too long hast thou done evil and despite, and now will I do that for +which I came.' + +Rising, he drew his sword fiercely and swiftly, and cleaved the head of +Garlon to the shoulders. + +'Give me the truncheon wherewith he slew thy brother!' said Balin to +the damsel beside him. + +From beneath her robe the lady brought forth the broken truncheon, and +striding to the slain man, Sir Balin thrust it fiercely into his body. + +'Now,' cried he aloud, 'with this lance thou didst treacherously slay a +good knight, and for that and all thy other cruel murders have I slain +thee.' + +With that arose a great outcry, and men ran from the tables towards Sir +Balin to slay him, and the foremost of them was King Pellam, who rushed +towards him, crying: + +'Thou hast slain my brother when he bore no sword, and thou shalt +surely die.' + +'Well,' said Balin, 'come and do it thyself.' + +'I shall do it,' said Pellam, 'and no man shall touch thee but me, for +the love of my brother.' + +Pellam snatched an axe from the hands of one standing by, and smote +eagerly at Balin; but Balin put his sword between his head and the +stroke, and the sword was struck from his hand. + +Then, weaponless, Balin dashed through the circle of guests towards a +door, looking for a weapon while he ran, but none could he find. King +Pellam followed closely behind him, and so they ran from chamber to +chamber, and up the narrow stair within the wall, until at the last +Balin found that he was near the top of the tower, and thought that now +he must surely be slain, for no weapon had he found. + +Suddenly he came upon a door, and bursting it open he found himself in +a large room marvellously bright and richly dight, and with a bed +arrayed with cloth of gold, and one old and white and reverend lying +therein. And by the side of the bed was a table of virgin gold on +pillars of pure silver, and on it stood a spear, strangely wrought. + +Balin seized the spear, and turned upon King Pellam, who stood still in +the doorway with terror in his eyes. But, marking naught of this, Balin +thrust at him with the spear, and struck it in his side, and King +Pellam with a great cry fell to the ground. + +With that stroke the walls of the castle drove together and fell in +ruins to the ground, and a great cry of lamentation beat to and fro +from far and near, and Balin lay under the stones as one dead. + +After three days Merlin came and drew out Balin from the ruins, and +nourished and healed him. He also recovered his sword and got him a +good horse, for his own was slain. Then he bade him ride out of that +country without delay. + +'And never more shall you have ease,' said Merlin. 'For by the stroke +of that spear with intent to slay King Pellam thou hast done such a +dolorous deed that not for many years shall its evil cease to work.' + +'What have I done?' said Balin. + +'Thou wouldst have slain a man with the very spear that Longius the +Roman thrust into the side of our Lord Jesus when He suffered on the +Rood; and by that thou hast defiled it, and caused such ill that never +shall its tale be ended until a stainless knight shall come, one of +those who shall achieve the Holy Graal.' + +'It repents me,' said Balin heavily, 'but the adventure was forced upon +me.' + +As he rode through the land, he saw how it seemed that a dire +pestilence had swept over it; for where he had seen the golden corn +waving in miles of smiling fields, he saw it now blackened along the +ground; the trees were stripped of their leaves and fruit, the cattle +lay dead in the meads, and the fish rotted in the streams, while in the +villages lay the people dead or dying in shattered or roofless +cottages. + +As he passed, those that were alive cursed him, and called down upon +him the wrath of Heaven. + +'See, see,' they cried, 'thou murderous knight, how the evil stroke +thou gavest to King Pellam by that hallowed spear hath destroyed this +happy land! Go! thou foul knight, and may the vengeance strike thee +soon!' + +Balin went on, heavy of mind, for he knew not why he had been caused to +do this evil. + +For many days he passed through the saddened land, and he felt that in +a little while death would meet him. + +Then suddenly one day he came upon a castle in a wood, and he heard a +horn blow, as it had been at the death of a beast. + +'Here,' said Balin, 'shall I meet my death-wound, for that blast was +blown for me.' + +As he came on the green before the castle, many ladies and knights met +him and welcomed him with fair semblance, and gave him good cheer. + +'Now,' said the lady of the castle, when he had eaten, 'ye must do a +joust for me with a knight hereby who hath won from me a fair island in +a stream, and he hath overcome every knight that hath essayed to win it +back for me.' + +'Well, as you claim it for your good cheer,' said Balin, 'I will e'en +joust, though both I and my horse are spent with travelling, and my +heart is heavy. Nevertheless, show me the place.' + +'But, sir,' said a knight, 'thou shouldst change thy shield for a +bigger. For the strange knight is a strong one and a hardy.' + +Balin cared not, and so took the shield with a device upon it that was +not his own. Then he and his horse were led to a great barge, and so +they were poled across the wide stream to an island. + +When Balin had landed and mounted his horse, he rode a little way +towards a stout tower, and from it a knight issued, his armour all in +red, and the trappings of his horse of the same colour. They couched +their lances and came marvellously fast together, and smote each other +in the midmost of their shields; and the shock of their spears was so +great that it bore down both horses and men, and for a little while the +knights were dazed. + +The stranger rose up first, for Balin was much bruised and wearied; and +the red knight drew his sword and came towards Balin, who thereupon got +upon his feet, and they fought most fiercely together. So they fought +till their breaths failed. + +Many were the bouts they fought, and they rested oftentimes, and then +to battle again, so that in a little while the grass of the sward where +they struggled was red with the blood of their wounds. + +But the more wearied they were the fiercer they fought to vanquish each +the other, so that their hauberks were in tatters, their helms were +broken, and their shields were rived and cracked. At the last the red +knight could not lift his shield for weakness, and then he went back a +little and fell down. + +Balin also sank to the ground, faint with his wounds, and as he lay he +cried out: + +'What knight art thou? for ere now I never found a knight that matched +me.' + +The other answered him faintly: + +'My name is Balan, brother to the good knight Balin!' + +'Alas!' said Balin, 'that ever I should see the day!' And therewith he +fell back in a swoon. + +Then Balan crawled on all fours, feet and hands, and put off the helm +of his brother, and might hardly know him by his face, so hewn and +stained it was. Balan wept and kissed his face, and with that Balin +awoke. + +'O Balan, my brother, thou hast slain me and I thee!' + +'Alas!' said Balan, 'but I knew thee not, my brother. Hadst thou had +thine own shield, I would have known thy device of the two swords.' + +'Ah, 'twas part of the evil hap that hath followed me,' cried Balin. 'I +know not why.' + +Then they both swooned, and the lady of the castle came and would have +had them taken to a chamber. But Balan awoke and said: + +'Let be! let be! No leech can mend us. And I would not live more, for I +have slain my dear brother and he me!' + +Balin woke up therewith, and put his hand forth, and his brother +clasped it in his, very eagerly. + +'Little brother,' said Balin, 'I cannot come to thee--kiss me!' When +they had kissed, they swooned again, and in a little while Balin died, +but Balan did not pass until midnight. + +'Alas! alas!' cried the lady, weeping for very pity, 'that ever this +should be. Two brothers that have played together about their mother's +knees to slay each other unwittingly!' + +On the morrow came Merlin, and made them be buried richly in the green +place where they had fought, and on their tomb he caused to be written +in letters of gold, deep and thick, these words: 'Here lie Sir Balin +and his brother Sir Balan, who, unwittingly, did most pitifully slay +each other: and this Sir Balin was, moreover, he that smote the +dolorous stroke. Whereof the end is not yet.' + + + + +III + +HOW LANCELOT WAS MADE A KNIGHT. THE FOUR WITCH QUEENS, AND THE +ADVENTURES AT THE CHAPEL PERILOUS + + +When King Arthur was arrived at the age of twenty-five, his knights and +barons counselled that he should take a queen, and his choice fell upon +Gwenevere, the daughter of King Leodegrance, of the land of Cameliard. +This damsel was the most beautiful and the most gracious in all the +realm of Britain. + +When the marriage was arranged between her father and Merlin, King +Leodegrance said that, for her dowry, instead of broad lands, of which +King Arthur had many, he would give to Arthur the Table Round, which +Uther Pendragon had in friendship given to him many years before. For, +as King Arthur was already famous for his prowess and nobleness and his +love of knightly men and brave deeds, Leodegrance knew that this would +be a gift beloved of Arthur. + +With the table were to go the knights who were its company. It seated +one hundred and fifty when it was complete, but many had been slain, +and now they numbered but a hundred. + +When King Arthur heard from Merlin of the coming of Gwenevere, with the +hundred knights bearing the Round Table with them, he was very glad, +'for,' said he, 'their noble company pleaseth me more than great +riches.' He charged Merlin to go and espy through all the land of +Britain for another fifty knights, so that the tale of the noble +company of the Round Table should be complete. + +Now, it chanced that while Arthur sat in the hall of his palace at +London, waiting for Gwenevere to come to him, and for Merlin to return +from his quest, King Ban, who had aided him in his fierce battle +against the eleven kings, sent his young son Lancelot to Arthur's +court, to learn knightly deeds and noble prowess. + +None knew who he was but Arthur, who kept the matter secret. Many had +smiled at the huge limbs of Lancelot, until his great strength had +caused them to respect him; and being but a young man he had not yet +got all the courtly bearing and noble manners for which in later time +he was famous throughout all Christendom. So that many knights and +ladies smiled sourly upon him, but others saw that he would shortly +prove a fine man of his hands, full courteous and gentle, and of a +noble nature and great presence. + +At the court was also young Gawaine, son of King Lot, and nephew of the +king. Both Lancelot and Gawaine were as yet not knighted, but together +they tilted at each other in the lists beyond the walls, and spent +their days in sword-play and all knightly exercises. Lancelot was the +stronger and the better fighter; and though Gawaine never overcame him, +yet did they twain love each other passing well. + +Now Gawaine went to the king one day, and asked of him a gift, and King +Arthur said he would grant it. + +'Sir,' said Gawaine, while Lancelot stood a little way off, fondling +the hounds that licked at his hand, 'I ask that ye will make me knight +the same day that ye shall wed fair Gwenevere.' + +'I will do it with a good will,' said the king. 'And Lancelot,' he +said, calling to the young man, 'have ye no boon to ask of me?' + +'Not at this time, sir,' replied Lancelot, 'but in a little while I +may.' + +Into the hall next day, as the king sat at dinner, came an old woman, +bent and feeble, but with reverend white hair and gentle face, and she +kneeled at the king's feet. + +'What is it, dame?' said Arthur. 'What is't you crave?' + +'Justice, lord king,' she said in a weak voice, while the tears gushed +from her eyes. 'Or else I die beside the gate where you do give the +justice that all men praise.' + +'Who hath done evil to you?' said the king. + +'Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower in the Marsh,' replied the old +woman. 'I and my son, lord, did build a little hut of wattle on a +little plot which we banked from the marsh, near the great wall of the +rich baron, deeming it safe to rest within the shadow of the strong +lord, and though his hard rule was hateful to those whom he oppressed, +we were so humble that we thought he would not notice us. And meagrely +we reared our living from the ground, and sold our poor herbs to Sir +Caradoc his steward, or to the people in the villages in the marsh +about us. But soon the Lord Caradoc desired the land on which our +little hut was standing, to make his lands the broader. He tore our +poor home down, and scattered all, and thrust us out to wander in the +marshes; and when my poor son pleaded with the lord, he had him +whipped, and he was brought and cast half dead at my feet as I waited +outside the hall. Now if thou givest us not justice, we shall surely +die.' + +'Doth any know Sir Caradoc?' asked the king of his knights. + +'Yea, sir,' said one, 'and he is a great man of his hands, fierce and +bold, of strong family, and his brother is Sir Turquine of Camber, who +tried to slay thee at Caerleon, and was with the eleven kings in +battle. Sir Caradoc liveth in a strong tower beyond the marshes to the +south of the river, and he slayeth all that desire to pass them, unless +they pay him all he demands.' + +'What!' said the king with fierce anger, 'within a few miles of this my +justice-seat doth such tyranny rule unchecked, and ye tell me naught of +it? Are ye then more fearful of this marsh robber than of me your +king?' + +The knights hung their heads abashed, and were silent. + +Then Lancelot came and stood before the king. + +'Let me, sir king, go and summon this tyrant to your presence,' he +said, 'so that this poor dame may have justice, and that ye may punish +him for his oppression.' + +'I fear me, Lancelot, thou art over young for so fierce a knight,' said +Arthur. + +'I shall but bear thy words, sir,' said Lancelot, and he will not harm +thy messenger.' + +'Take two stout men-at-arms with you, then,' said Arthur, 'and say to +this Sir Caradoc that if he come not back with thee to answer unto me, +I will come and take his life and burn his evil tower to the ground.' + +Many of the younger men that had despite against Lancelot for his +greater prowess at the sword and the lance thought that now, indeed, +they would be ridded of him, for they deemed Sir Caradoc would slay +him. + +Two days later came young Lancelot back with his two men-at-arms, and +with them, bound upon a great horse, was a full fierce and raging +knight, red of face, large of body, his clothes all tossed and torn, +and his mouth full of dire threatenings against Lancelot. Men made way +for them marvelling, and together Lancelot and his captive rode up the +hall to the king. + +'Here, lord, is Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower in the Marsh,' said +Lancelot. 'He would not come when I gave him your message, so I bided +my time until he was sunk in wine, and was sleeping alone, and I have +brought him secretly from his hold. Now, lord king, I think Sir Caradoc +would joust with me, if you will give me knighthood.' + +'Joust with thee, thou smooth-faced boy!' cried Sir Caradoc, straining +at his bonds. 'I will spit thee on my lance if I may get at thee, and +when thou art slain I will fight with this little king of thine--and +his death shall wipe out this insult thou hast put upon me!' + +At his rage and fierce bearing men marvelled and many were afeared, +seeing that Sir Caradoc was great in lands and kinsmen, and big of his +body. + +'Thou art full young, Lancelot,' said Arthur, 'to joust with so strong +a knight. Let an older man have ado with him.' + +'Sir king,' cried Lancelot eagerly, 'I claim the first battle with this +strong tyrant. He is my captive, and I claim it.' + +'Have it as ye will,' said Arthur, 'and God speed you. But I misdoubt +me much 'twill end in your sorrow.' + +'Ay, and thine too, thou gentle lady's knight!' sneered Sir Caradoc. + +'Peace, man, peace,' said the king sternly. 'I think God will fight in +this battle, for I have inquired far, and the tale of thy evil deeds is +over-full.' + +Therewith King Arthur made young Lancelot knight, and men eagerly +rushed away to the tilting-ground to see the battle between the virgin +knight, Sir Lancelot, and the old robber knight, Sir Caradoc. And when +Sir Caradoc was released and armed, he laughed and shook his lance, so +sure was he of revenge right speedily. + +Then they hurtled together most fiercely, and young Sir Lancelot was +thrust from his horse by Sir Caradoc. Quickly he rose from the ground, +and dressed his shield and drew his sword, and cried, 'Alight, Sir +Caradoc, for I will fight thee on foot.' But Sir Caradoc, being +traitorous, rode at Sir Lancelot with his spear, as if he would pin him +to the earth, and the young knight had much ado to avoid him. All the +knights cried out upon Sir Caradoc for a foul knight, and for shame he +threw down his lance and alighted, and rushed at Sir Lancelot full +fiercely, in order to slay him instantly. + +But that was not easily to be done, for however wise Sir Caradoc was in +sword-play, he was mad with wrath, and therefore thought of naught but +to slay his enemy instantly. He raged like a wild boar, and gave Sir +Lancelot many evil strokes, yet never did he beat down the young +knight's guard. Soon men perceived that Sir Caradoc's great fierceness +was causing him to make blind strokes, and then Sir Lancelot seemed the +more wary. Suddenly they saw the young knight leap forward, and beat so +heavily upon the other's helm that it cracked. Sir Caradoc strove to +guard himself, but Sir Lancelot was so wroth, and so mighty of his +blows, that he could not. At last Sir Lancelot beat him to his knees, +and then thrust him grovelling to the ground. Sir Lancelot bade him +yield, but he would not, and still sought to thrust at the other. Then +the young knight struck at him between the neck and the head and slew +him. + +Both the knights and the common people shouted with joy, and acclaimed +Sir Lancelot as a noble and mighty knight. But the young man was full +modest, and withdrew from the press. King Arthur gave unto him the +Dolorous Tower and the lands which had belonged to Sir Caradoc, and +Lancelot caused the old dame and her son to be given a fair piece of +land and a hut, and many other wrongs and evil customs that had been +done by Sir Caradoc, Sir Lancelot caused to be righted. + +The kinsmen of Sir Caradoc went apart and conspired to have Sir +Lancelot slain, but for a long time they could not come at him. + +Then, when the queen came unto King Arthur, there was great feasting +and joustings and merry games, and Sir Lancelot, for his knightly +prowess in the lists, and for his gentle courtesy and noble manners to +all, both poor and rich, high and low, was sought by many, and for some +time rested himself in knightly games and play. + +Then, on a day in June, when a sudden wind from a lattice blew upon his +face as he laughed and jested with ladies and knights in silks and rich +garments, he bethought him of the fair green woods and the wide lands +through which lonely roads were winding. And departing from the hall +forthwith, he bade his horse and arms be brought to him, and rode into +a deep forest, and thought to prove himself in strange adventures. + +Thus faring, he rode for two days and met with naught. On the third day +the weather was hot about noon, and Sir Lancelot had great list to +sleep. He espied a great apple-tree full of white blossoms, and a fair +shadow was beneath it, and he alighted and tied his horse unto a thorn, +and laid his helmet under his head and slept. + +While he thus lay, there rode by him on white mules four ladies of +great estate, with four knights about them, who bore a canopy of green +silk on four spears, so that the high sun should not touch the faces of +the ladies. Then, as they rode by, they heard a war-horse grimly neigh, +and looking aside, they were aware of Sir Lancelot all armed, and +asleep under the apple-tree. + +The ladies came nigh him, and of them there was Queen Morgan le Fay, +who was wife of King Lot, and an evil witch; the Queen of Northgales, a +haughty lady; the Lady of the Out-Isles; and the Lady of the Marshes. +And when the Lady of the Marshes saw the knight she cried: + +'Now this is as good hap as ever could be, for this is he that slew my +brother, Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower; and for revenge of that, I +would have this knight taken to my tower and torture him before I slay +him.' + +'That is well said,' said Morgan le Fay, 'for he bids fair to be one of +the most strong knights of Arthur, whom I hate. This man, Sir Lancelot +du Lake, is the favourite of all the ladies at that court, who hate me. +So will I lay an enchantment on him, so that he shall sleep.' + +Then the evil queen laid her hands over the face of Sir Lancelot, and +said strange words that none could understand, and then he was laid +across the crupper of one of the knights' horses, and he did not wake. + +When in the twilight Sir Lancelot awoke, he found himself on a straw +pallet in a strange room, and he leaped up and went to a narrow +arrow-slit in the wall and looked out. Before him for a great distance +was a black watery land, with the sun sinking far away on the very +edge, and the pools of the marsh were as if they were of blood. + +Then he beat at the door and called, but none responded, and for wrath +he could have dashed the door down, but it was too stout, and he had no +weapon; for his arms had been taken from him. + +When it was dark, suddenly it seemed to Sir Lancelot that the room +smelled foul, as if he had been carried into the midst of the quaking +marsh, and was sunk deep in the slime and weeds of a pool. Then, +through the arrow-slit, he saw many strange lights come, dim and blue +like the wild lights that dance and flit over the lonely marshes by +night; but that which made him marvel was that these lights were two +together, as if they were the eyes of evil things. And they came up to +him with a breath that was cold and dank, and they seemed to peer into +his face, but he could see naught of their bodies. The hair upon his +head rose, and his skin went cold. They pressed all about him, and to +defend himself he struck at the eyes, but his blows beat only the air. +Then suddenly Sir Lancelot felt sharp pains, as if small keen knives +had been thrust into his flesh at many places. The stabs increased in +number and in pain, and Sir Lancelot beat about himself and ran to and +fro in the narrow chamber to escape the evil eyes and the stabs, but it +was in vain, and thus all night in much misery he suffered. When for +sheer weariness he lay down and tried to close his eyes, the evil +things would not let him, but ever they tore at him and stabbed him. He +was in anguish of mind more than he could bear, and for all his thought +he could not think of any way to fight against the evil powers which +followed and tortured him wherever he ran. + +But at dawn they fled, and then the door of the room opened, and a +damsel appeared, and in her hands was a manchet of sour bread, and a +beaker of water from the ditch of the moat. The damsel was evilly clad +in rags, and seemed like a scullion-maid. + +'These,' she said, 'my mistresses bid me say shall be your food until +you die.' + +'Damsel,' said Lancelot, 'tell me who hath brought me here and used me +so evilly.' + +'It is Queen Morgan le Fay,' said the damsel, 'and the three witch +queens, the Queen of Northgales, the Queen of the Out-Isles, and the +Lady of the Marshes.' + +'I doubt not, then, that they would slay me?' said Lancelot. 'But why +hate they me?' + +'It is for this,' went on the damsel, 'that you did slay Sir Caradoc, +the brother of the Lady of the Marshes.' + +'Alas, then,' said Sir Lancelot, 'there is no pity for me, and none of +my dear friends shall learn of my shameful death.' + +'And so that you should suffer much ere you are slain,' went on the +damsel, 'they sent in the night the Coranians, the marsh fiends, to +torture you. Thus will they do until you die, unless, sir knight, you +are a knight with a stout heart, and a good fighter, and will do me +justice. If you will be ruled by me, and will give me a promise, I will +aid you.' + +'Damsel, that will I grant you,' said Lancelot, 'for this would be an +evil death for a knight. And full of terror hath been this night, from +the foul things which have beset me.' + +'I may not stay further now,' said the maid, 'lest they think I tarry +over-long. But by evening I will come again.' + +The day passed and twilight came, and Sir Lancelot was adread for fear +of the night. But anon the damsel came secretly to him and said: + +'Now must you promise me this, that you will release my father, whom +Sir Turquine, Sir Caradoc's brother, hath kept in his foul dungeons +since I was but a little child. And all his lands did Sir Turquine rob +from him, and me he gave as a kitchen slut to Morgan le Fay, and evilly +have I been treated who am a good knight's daughter. Now, will ye +promise to free my father?' + +'That will I, my poor damsel,' said Lancelot, 'and I will, God aiding +me, slay this Sir Turquine as I slew Sir Caradoc his brother.' + +So at the dead of night the damsel opened his door, and with the keys +that she had stolen, she opened twelve other locks that stood between +them and the postern door. Then she brought him to his armour, which +she had hidden in a bush, and she led forth his horse, and he mounted +with much joy, and took the maid with him, and she showed him the way +to a convent of white nuns, and there they had good cheer. + +Then, on the morrow, she led him to a thick forest with many hills +therein, and anon they came to a fair ford, and over the ford there +grew a tree, and on it there hung many good shields, each with the +device of some knight thereon, and Sir Lancelot was astounded to see +the shields of many of King Arthur's knights hung there. And on a bole +of the tree there was a bason of copper. + +'Now,' said the damsel, 'I have brought you here where is Sir Turquine, +the mightiest knight that ever was found, as men say, and was never +overmatched by any. And in his dungeons are many poor knights, and my +dear father, Sir Darrel. Now strike the bason with the butt of your +spear.' + +Sir Lancelot beat such strokes that the bason burst asunder, and then +he was aware of a great knight riding on a black horse. 'This is he,' +said the damsel, 'and now God aid you!' + +'What needst thou, sir knight?' cried the other. + +'To try my strength on thee,' cried Lancelot, 'for thou hast done great +despite and shame unto many good knights of the Round Table.' + +'Art thou of that caitiff crew of ladies' knights?' sneered Sir +Turquine. 'Then I defy thee.' + +'Thou hast said enough,' replied Lancelot. + +They put their spears in their rests, and came like the wind against +each other, and either smote other in the middle of their shields, so +that both their horses' girths broke. Then, lightly avoiding their +beasts, they came at each other with great fierceness, and so fared for +two hours, feinting and striking, and so heavy were their blows that +each bled from many wounds as they stood. At last, for sheer +breathlessness, each leaned upon his sword. + +'Now, fellow,' said Sir Turquine haughtily, 'answer me these questions +I shall put to thee.' + +'Say on,' said Sir Lancelot. + +'Thou art,' went on Sir Turquine, 'the biggest man that ever I met +with, and like one knight that I hate above all others, and I would +liefer be thy friend than thy foe. Now, therefore, I will give up to +thee my captive knights if thou wilt tell me thy name, and if thou art +not the knight I hate most.' + +'Willingly,' said Sir Lancelot. 'But what knight hatest thou above all +other? And why?' + +'It is Sir Lancelot du Lake,' cried the knight, 'for he slew my brother +Sir Caradoc of the Dolorous Tower in the Marsh, who was one of the best +knights living. And ever I have sought this Lancelot, and slain and +maimed many good knights and imprisoned others in the quest. To slay +that fellow I have made a vow, and him I would meet above all others.' + +'Ha!' laughed Sir Lancelot, 'and I am the first thou hast met whose +love thou wouldst liefer have than my hatred? Well, I will have thee to +wit that I am he ye seek, Sir Lancelot du Lake, and thy brother was an +evil knight and an oppressor.' + +'What sayest thou?' cried Sir Turquine. 'Thou art he I seek? Then, +Lancelot, thou art unto me most welcome as ever was any knight, for we +shall never part till the one of us be dead.' + +Then they ran at each other like two wild boars, lashing and dashing +with their swords and shields, so that sometimes in their fury they +slipped together on the grass, which was wetted with blood, and fell +striking at each other. But at last Sir Turquine waxed faint and tried +to avoid Sir Lancelot's blows, and his shield sank low, for his arm was +very weary. Seeing this, Sir Lancelot leaped upon him fiercely, and got +him by the banner of his helmet, and thrust him on his knees, and slew +him at a stroke. + +When he had rested a while, he went to the castle of Sir Turquine and +released all his prisoners, and was rejoiced to see the damsel find her +father alive. He caused the old knight to have his lands again, and +bade the others that they should betake themselves to the court of King +Arthur to be cheered and comforted, while their possessions, which Sir +Turquine had robbed of them, should be given back to them. + +Then fared Sir Lancelot further afield, glad exceedingly that he had +escaped the foul plots of the four witch queens, and also that he had +vanquished the evil Sir Turquine. + +Then he rode a great while in a deep and dark forest, and as he +followed the winding ways, suddenly he saw a black hound before him, +with its nose to the ground as if seeking a scent. He followed the +beast, and ever she looked behind her. Soon she left the forest, and +picked her way through a great marsh, and Sir Lancelot followed, until +in the wide distance he saw a little hill with trees upon it, and in +the midst a ruined manor. + +The hound went towards the ruin and Sir Lancelot followed. The wall was +broken down in many places, and the path all overgrown and weedy, and +as he came to the courtyard before the house, he saw the fishponds +choked with weeds and the horseblock green with moss, and in the great +doorway grew charnel and hellebore, and the spiked hemlock waved and +spilt its seed in the wind. The windows hung by their hinges, and the +green moss crept down the wide wet cracks in the walls. + +But the dog ran over the drawbridge into the house, and Sir Lancelot +gat from his horse and tethered it to the post beside the horseblock, +and so went across the bridge, which was full sodden and worm-eaten, +and bent beneath his weight. + +Coming into a great hall, foul with many rotting leaves, he saw a table +in the midst thereof, and on it was a knight that was a seemly man, and +he lay as if he were dead, and the black hound licked his wound. And by +his side there was a lovely lady, who started up, weeping and wringing +her hands, and she said: + +'O knight, too much evil have you brought to me!' + +'Why say ye so?' said Sir Lancelot; 'I never did harm to this knight, +for hither did this hound lead me, and therefore, fair lady, be not +displeased with me, for grief is upon me for your sorrow and your +sadness.' + +'Truly, sir,' said the lady, and she laid her face in her hands and +sobbed full sorely, so that Sir Lancelot was much stirred thereat, 'I +trow, as ye say it, that you are not the knight that hath near slain my +love and my husband. And never may he be healed of his deadly wound +except some good knight aid me. But he must be so bold and valiant a +man, that never, I think, may I find such a one in the little time I +have before my dear lord shall die!' + +'Now on the honour of my knighthood,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'I do not +presume that I am such a one as you desire; but if I may aid you and +ease your sorrow, that would I do most willingly. What is it I should +do?' + +'Oh, sir knight!' cried the lady, and her lovely eyes looked full +thankfully at Sir Lancelot, 'if ye would, it were the greatest deed you +have ever done, however bold a knight ye may be. For this my lord is +sore wounded by a knight whom he met in the forest this day, and by one +thing only may he be made whole. For there is a lady, a sorceress, that +dwelleth in a castle here beside, and she hath told me that my +husband's wounds may never be whole till I may find a knight that would +go at midnight into the Chapel Perilous beside the Mere, and that +therein he should find before the high altar a sword, and the shroud in +which the dead wizard-knight is lapped, and with that sword my +husband's wounds should be searched, and a piece of the shroud should +bind them.' + +'This is a marvellous thing,' said Sir Lancelot, 'and I will essay it. +But what is your husband's name?' + +'Sir,' she said, 'his name is Sir Meliot de Logres.' + +'That me repenteth,' said Sir Lancelot, 'for he is a fellow of the +Round Table, and for him will I do all in my power.' + +Going to the table, he looked upon the ashen face of the wounded man, +and it was Sir Meliot, even as the lady said. + +'Now, sir,' said the lady, when Sir Lancelot had mounted his horse, 'do +ye follow that hard way across the marsh, and it will lead ye by +midnight to the Chapel Perilous, and may ye speed well.' + +Right so, Sir Lancelot departed, and the sun was near its setting. + +For some hours Sir Lancelot fared across the marsh, until it was deep +night, save for the stars; then he came upon a broad road, grass-grown +and banked high, where the night wind piped in the long grass. This he +knew was a road which the great Roman necromancers had wrought, and he +thought he had missed his way, for there was no other path. + +As he stood marvelling, the figure of a man, tall and gaunt and but +half clad, came down the broad road towards him, and cried in a hollow +voice: + +'For the love of charity, sir knight, give to a poor man who is +outcast.' + +Sir Lancelot pitied the sunken eyes of the poor man, and gave him alms. + +'God give thee comfort, poor soul,' said the knight, 'and get thee a +roof, for the night wind blows chill.' + +'God bless thee, sir knight,' said the man, in awful tones, 'for +courtesy and pity such as thine are rare. Whither goest thou this +night?' + +'I seek the Chapel Perilous,' said Sir Lancelot. + +At which the shape threw back its head and cried out as if with great +sorrow. + +'God fend thee, sir knight,' he said, 'and bring thee safe alive. What +thou gettest there, keep thou in thy hands until the dawn, or thy soul +shall suffer death.' + +Then he vanished, and Sir Lancelot knew it had been a phantom. + +Then as he crossed himself, he looked up, and through some thin and +withered trees a little way off upon a slope he saw the shimmer of +light, as if a chapel was lit up. He went towards it, and he saw a high +wall that was broken down in many places, and an old grey chapel +beyond, and the windows were shimmering with a ghostly light. As he +came through the trees he saw they were all dead, with neither leaf nor +twig upon them, their roots were crooked out of the ground as if they +would throw his horse, and their limbs were stretched as if they +strained to clutch him. + +Coming to the gate in the wall, his horse trembled and plunged, and +would go no further; whereat Sir Lancelot alighted, and tied it to a +thorn-tree, and went through the gate. By the ghostly light that came +from the windows of the ruined chapel he saw that under the eaves were +hung fair shields, with rich devices, and all were turned upside down. +Many of them were those of knights he had known or heard of, long since +dead or lost. When he had made a few steps on the grass-grown pathway +towards the door, of a sudden he saw, coming from the church, thirty +tall knights, each a foot higher than he, each in black armour, and +each with sword uplifted, as they rushed towards him. + +Their feet and their armour made no sound as they pressed forwards, and +a thin blue flame licked about each naked sword. + +They came upon him, but Sir Lancelot, with a prayer to God, dressed his +shield and sword and stood firm, though his flesh quaked and his tongue +clave to the roof of his mouth. They mowed and gnashed at him, and +heaved their swords about him; then suddenly their vizors went up and +he looked into their faces. And at that he was sore adread, for he knew +they were dead men. + +But he would not be overcome, and said in a loud voice: + +'In the name of God, avaunt ye!' + +He made a step forward, and they scattered before him, but followed +closely behind. Then he went into the chapel, where he saw no light but +a dim lamp burning upon the altar. It was an old, old chapel, with dust +upon its floor like a thick carpet, the walls and windows were holed +and broken, and the timber of the seats was rotten. + +He went up to the high altar, and saw before it a trestle, and upon it +was a dead man, all covered with a cloth of silk. Sir Lancelot stooped +down, and with his sword cut a piece of that cloth away. + +With that his blood seemed turned to water, and his feet seemed eager +to run towards the door, for with a mighty roar the earth shook beneath +him, and the walls of the chapel rocked. But he looked for the sword +which he must take, and saw it under the trestle, and picked it up and +went out of the chapel. + +The ghosts of the knights pressed about him as he walked, and strove to +tear the sword from his grasp. But he would not suffer them to take it, +and when he reached the gate they could no further go, and so left him. + +At the gate there came running up to him a fair damsel, crying to him: + +'O brave knight, give me the sword and the cloth, that I may take them +at once to my mistress, the lady of Sir Meliot, for he is at the point +of death, and she is waiting in sorrow and tears beside him.' + +But Sir Lancelot remembered the words of the phantom beggar, and made +reply: + +'Fair damsel, I shall take them myself to the lady of Sir Meliot, for +these things I may not give to any until the dawning.' + +The damsel would have torn the sword and the cloth full hastily from +his hands, but he was aware of her intent, and hindered her, and bade +her in the name of God to withdraw. + +Whereat, with a great shriek, she vanished. + +'Now,' said Sir Lancelot, 'may God, who has brought me through these +evil adventures, shield me from any further subtle crafts of these foul +things.' + +Straightway he mounted his horse, and took his way towards the marsh, +so that he should give the sword and the cloth into the hands of the +lady of Sir Meliot, for the healing of her lord. + +But at the dawn Merlin met him. + +'Sir Lancelot,' said the old white wizard, 'ye have no need to go to +the ruined manor, except ye would have the proof of what I tell you.' + +'And what is that?' asked Sir Lancelot. + +'That all that hath befallen thee hath been done by evil magic,' +replied Merlin. 'The black dog that led thee to the manor was a fiend, +the fair lady that entreated ye was an evil witch, and she and the +damsel at the chapel were the same, and all was caused by the witch +queens who had you in their tower; and the likeness of the wounded +knight to Sir Meliot was formed by wizardry. They that craved your +death did hope that ye would fail at the terrors of the Chapel +Perilous, and that your soul would be lost as have the souls of those +evil or weak knights whose ghosts assailed ye. But by your courage and +great heart ye won through all.' + +'This is a great marvel,' said Sir Lancelot, 'and I thank God that He +hath shielded me of His mercy.' + +When Sir Lancelot was returned to Camelot, and Merlin had told King +Arthur of the knight's adventures, the king made him one of the knights +of the Round Table. + +'Ye do well,' said Merlin privily unto the king, 'for he shall prove +the most man of worship that is in the world, and all your court and +all your Round Table shall be by him made more famous than by any +knight now living. Yet shall he not be one of those three that shall +achieve the Holy Graal.' + + + + +IV + +THE KNIGHT OF THE KITCHEN + + +It was the feast of Pentecost, and King Arthur was holding his court of +the Round Table at the city of Kin-Kenadon, hard by the sea in Wales. +In the high hall the tables were set for dinner, and the floor was +freshly strewn with rushes, flowers and fennel, so that the place +smelled as sweet as a field. The cook and his scullions came to and fro +through the door of the kitchen with anxious faces, for they feared +lest the meats should be overdone, but as yet King Arthur would not sit +to dinner. For it was his custom never to go to meat on that day until +he had heard or seen some great marvel or adventure. + +Sir Gawaine stood looking from a window in the bower where the king sat +with the queen, and suddenly he turned with a laugh, and said: + +'Sir, go to your meat, for here, I think, cometh a strange adventure.' + +And even as the king took his seat on the high dais in the hall, and +his knights sat at the Round Table, through the great door of the hall +came two men, well beseen and richly dressed, and, leaning on their +shoulders, was a tall, fair, young man, as goodly to strength and +breadth as ever was seen, with hands large and fair. But he was either +lazy or ill-conditioned, for he leaned upon his fellows as if he were +unable to stand upright. And the three of them marched through the +hall, speaking no word, and they came to the foot of the dais, while +men sat silent and marvelling. Then the young man raised himself +upright, and it was seen that he was a foot and a half taller than +those beside him. + +'God bless you, O king!' said the young man, 'and all your fair +fellowship, and in especial the fellowship of the Round Table. I come +to crave of your kindness three gifts, and they are such as ye may +worshipfully and honourably grant unto me. And the first I will ask +now, and the others will I ask at the same day twelvemonths, +wheresoever ye hold your feast of Pentecost.' + +'Ask,' said the king, 'and ye shall be granted your petition.' + +'The first is this,' said he, 'that ye give me meat and drink and +lodging here for a year.' + +'Willingly,' said the king, 'but what is your name and whence come you? +Ye have the bearing of good lineage.' + +'That is as may be,' was the reply, 'but I may tell you naught, if it +please you, lord.' + +Then King Arthur called Sir Kay, his steward, and bade him tend the +young man for a year as if he were a lord's son. + +'There is no need that he should have such care,' sneered Sir Kay, who +was a man of a sour mind. 'I dare swear that he is but a villein born. +If he were of good blood he would have craved a horse and harness. And +since he hath no name I will dub him Beaumains, or Fair Hands, for see +how soft are his hands! And he shall live in the kitchen, and become as +fat as any pig!' + +But Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawaine reproached Sir Kay for his mocking of +the young man, 'for,' said Sir Lancelot, 'I dare lay my head he hath +the making of a man of great worship.' + +'That cannot be,' said Sir Kay; 'he has asked as his nature prompted +him. He will make naught but fat, for he desires only meat and drink. +On my life I would swear he is only some lazy fellow from an abbey, +where food hath failed, and so he has come hither for sustenance.' + +So Kay sat down to his meat laughing, and Beaumains went to the door of +the hall, where the varlets and boys ate the leavings from the table; +but he fared badly there, for they jeered at him as Sir Kay had done. + +Afterwards Sir Lancelot, of his great gentleness and courtesy, bade him +come to his chamber, to be better fed and clothed; and Sir Gawaine, +because of a liking he felt in his heart for the young man, proffered +him good meat and drink and a soft bed. But then, and at all other +times, Beaumains refused, and would do nothing but what Sir Kay +commanded. + +Thus he lived in the kitchen, eating broken scraps, and lying at night +where the scullions lay, except that he was given the chilliest spot +furthest from the fire. But he did what he was bidden to do with a +cheerful air and was ever willing to work. And if there was any +jousting of knights or any other sights of prowess, these would he see +with the greatest delight. In any sports or trials of strength or skill +among the serving-men, he was ever foremost, and none could overcome +him in wrestling or at quarterstaff, nor could any throw the bar or +cast the stone so far as he could, no, not by two yards. + +Whenever Sir Kay met him about the hall or the kitchen he would laugh +mockingly, and to those about him he would say, 'Well, how like you my +huge boy of the kitchen?' + +But to such sneers, and to all the scorns and insults of the varlets of +the kitchen, Beaumains would answer naught, and was ever quiet and mild +whatever he endured. And to all was he ever gentle, both man and child, +and he never put forth his great strength in anger. + +Thus a year passed, until again it was the feast of Pentecost, and at +that time the king held it at his chief city in Wales, Caerleon-upon-Usk. +And again the feast was royally prepared in the great hall of the +court, but the king would not give the signal to sit to meat until he +should have heard or seen some strange adventure. + +But about noon a squire came to where the king waited, and said, 'Lord, +I am bidden to say ye may go to your meat, for there cometh a damsel +with some strange adventure.' + +Quickly the king sat on the high seat, and the cooks brought in the +smoking collops of meat and the dishes of savoury stews. And as they +began to eat, there came a maiden of a plain sharp visage, who made her +way to the step of the dais, and there kneeling, cried: + +'Succour and help I crave of you, O king!' + +'For whom?' said the king, 'and for what reason?' + +'Sir,' said the maiden, 'my lady sister is of great beauty and renown, +and is besieged in her castle by a tyrant-knight, who will not let her +go forth from her castle; and because it is said that here in your +court are the noblest knights in all the world, I come to you praying +for aid.' + +'What is your lady sister's name?' asked the king, 'and where doth she +dwell, and tell me who is he that doth besiege her?' + +'Sir king,' said the lady, 'I may not tell you my sister's name, but +she is of great beauty and of wide lands. And the tyrant-knight who +besieges her is the Red Knight of Reedlands.' + +'I know him not,' replied the king. + +'Sir,' cried Sir Gawaine from his seat, 'I know him well. He is one of +the perilous knights of the world, for he hath the strength of seven +men, and from him I once escaped barely with my life.' + +'Fair lady,' said the king, 'I would help you willingly, but as ye will +not tell me your lady's name, none of my knights here shall go with you +with my consent.' + +The damsel looked about the hall with a quick angry glance, and the +knights that sat there liked not her sour looks. Then from the crowd of +scullions and kitchen lads that hung about the serving-tables at the +side of the hall came Beaumains, his dress smirched, but his handsome +face lit up and his eyes burning with eagerness. + +'Sir king!' he cried, holding up his hand, 'a boon I crave!' + +As he came to the step of the dais the damsel shrank from him as if he +had been something foul. + +'Say on,' replied the king to the young man. + +'God thank you, my king,' went on Beaumains. 'I have been these twelve +months in your kitchen, and have had my full living, as ye did +graciously order, and now I ask for the two further gifts ye promised.' + +'Ye have but to ask,' replied the king. + +'Sir, they are these,' said Beaumains. 'First, that you will grant me +this adventure of the damsel.' + +'I grant it you,' said King Arthur. + +'Then, sir, this is the other,--that ye shall bid Sir Lancelot du Lake +to follow me, and to make me a knight when I shall desire him.' + +'All this shall be done if Sir Lancelot think it well,' said the king. + +But the lady was exceedingly wroth, and her eyes flashed with scorn as +she turned to the king: + +'Shame on thee!' she cried; 'will you give me a kitchen scullion to aid +me?' + +With that she hastened from the hall, mounted her horse and rode away. +Even as she went forth, a dwarf in the dress of a page entered the hall +leading a great horse richly caparisoned, and on the saddle was piled a +splendid suit of armour. And the dwarf went up to Beaumains and began +to arm him, while men asked each other whence came all this fine gear. + +When he was dressed in armour, all the knights marvelled to see how +goodly a man he looked. Then Beaumains took leave of King Arthur and of +Sir Gawaine, and asked Sir Lancelot to follow him. + +Many people went to the door of the hall to see Beaumains mount his +horse and ride after the damsel, and the way he sat his steed, with its +trappings of gold and purple, excited their admiration. But all +wondered to see that Beaumains had neither shield nor spear, and some +laughed and said, 'The ignorant churl! Doth he think the mere sight of +him on horseback will affright his enemies, that he carries neither +shield nor lance.' + +Sir Kay sneered with them, and suddenly getting up from his seat he +cried: + +'By my faith! I will go after my kitchen boy and see whether he will +still know me for his better!' + +'Ye had better bide at home,' said Sir Lancelot, and Sir Gawaine +agreed. + +But Sir Kay laughed them aside, and having swiftly put on his armour, +he took his spear and shield and rode after Beaumains. He caught up +with the youth just as the latter reached the side of the damsel, and +Sir Kay cried out, with a scornful laugh: + +'What! Beaumains, do ye not know me?' + +'Ay,' replied Beaumains, 'I know ye for the most ungentle knight in all +King Arthur's court, and therefore keep you off from me.' + +'Ah, churl!' cried Sir Kay, 'thou needst a lesson from me. A beggar, +though he be on horseback, is still a beggar.' + +With that he put his lance in rest and dashed towards Beaumains, +expecting an easy victory. But the young man, putting the lance aside +with his sword just as it was about to strike him, rushed upon Sir Kay, +and with a deft thrust struck him through a joint of his armour, so +that Sir Kay fell backwards off his horse to the ground. Swiftly +leaping down, Beaumains took possession of his opponent's spear and +shield, and commanded his dwarf to mount upon Sir Kay's horse. + +Then, after remounting, Beaumains rejoined the damsel, who had seen all +that had taken place, but said nothing. + +At that moment they saw Sir Lancelot coming towards him. He had seen +Sir Kay's discomfiture, and wondered at the mastery which Beaumains had +shown. + +'Fair sir,' cried Beaumains, turning and drawing rein as Sir Lancelot +approached, 'I would joust with you, if ye will.' + +'Have at you, then!' replied Sir Lancelot with a laugh, and with spears +in rest they set their horses at a great gallop. They came together so +fiercely that they were both thrust backwards from their saddles and +fell to the earth, half stunned and greatly bruised. + +Sir Lancelot recovered first and ran to help Beaumains to his feet, and +then, with their shields before them, they continued the combat with +swords. For an hour they strove fiercely, thrusting, striking and +parrying like two great boars in a forest clearing. Sir Lancelot was +astonished to feel how great was the young man's strength, how swift +were his thrusts, and how powerful were his blows. He recognised that +Beaumains was a dangerous fighter, and that he himself would have much +to do to overcome him. + +'Beaumains,' he cried at length, 'fight not so hard, lad. Our quarrel, +if we have aught, is surely not so great that we cannot leave off.' + +'That is truth!' said Beaumains, laughing, as he dropped the point of +his weapon. 'But, Sir Lancelot, it doth me good to feel your wondrous +skill and the strength of your arm. Yet, my lord, I have not shown the +uttermost of mine.' + +'By my faith, I believe ye,' cried Sir Lancelot, 'for I should have +much ado to keep myself from shameful defeat if you should really push +me to the utmost. Therefore I say that you need not fear any earthly +knight.' + +'I thank you for your good words,' replied Beaumains. 'And do you think +I may hope at any time to become a proved knight?' + +'Fight as you have fought with me, and I have no doubt of you.' + +'Then, I pray you, my lord,' said Beaumains, 'give me the order of +knighthood.' + +'Ere I do that, you must tell me your name and of what kin you were +born,' replied Sir Lancelot. + +'If you will promise to tell no one, I will reveal it.' + +Sir Lancelot gave his promise, and Beaumains, going closer, whispered +some words into Sir Lancelot's ear. + +'Ah, sir,' said Sir Lancelot, taking the young man's hand in his, 'I am +glad I was not deceived. I knew you must come of great kin, and that +you had not come to King Arthur for meat or drink. Kneel now, and I +will make you knight.' + +So Beaumains knelt before Sir Lancelot, who lightly touched him on the +shoulder with his sword, naming him knight. + +Thereupon they parted with many kind words, and Beaumains made haste to +overtake the damsel, who had long since disappeared. + +As for Sir Kay, he was lifted upon Sir Lancelot's shield and taken back +to the court, and there slowly he recovered of his wound. Men laughed +him to scorn for the beating he had received from his own 'kitchen +boy.' + +'Lo,' said some, 'the proud knight went forth to cuff his own scullion, +and the scullion beat him sore and took his weapons for spoil.' + +When Beaumains reached the side of the damsel, she pulled up her horse +and turned upon him with flashing eyes and angry looks. + +'What doest thou here?' she cried. 'Away from me--thou smellest of the +kitchen, knave! Pah! thy clothes are foul with grease and tallow! Dost +thou think to ride with me?' + +'Lady,' said Beaumains, and he spoke full gently, 'my clothes may be +smirched, but my arm, I trust, is as strong to defend you as any that +is wrapped in silk.' + +'Out upon thee, saucy churl!' she cried. 'Thinkest thou I should allow +for that knight whom you thrust from his horse but now? Nay, not a whit +do I, for thou didst strike him foully and like a coward! I know thee +well, for Sir Kay named you. Beaumains you are, dainty of hands and of +eating, like a spoilt page. Get thee gone, thou turner of spits and +washer of greasy dishes!' + +But for all that she raved, Beaumains would not reply in angry words, +though his heart burned within him. + +'Damsel,' said he courteously, 'ye may say what ye will to me, but I +will not go from you whatever you say. I have given my promise to King +Arthur that I will achieve this adventure for you, and that will I do +or die in the trial of it.' + +The girl laughed mockingly. + +'_You_ will finish my adventure--_you_ will come to our aid!' she cried +in scorn. 'Fie on thee, thou upstart kitchen page! But if you will not +go from me, then come, fool, and I shall see thee quickly shamed. Thou +art proud with the too good living thou hadst in Arthur's kitchen, but +one I know whose face thou wilt not dare to look into, my knight of the +kitchen!' + +So saying, she pushed on her horse, and thus in silence they went on +together. + +In a little while they came to a dark wood, and suddenly as they rode, +a man with white scared face started from behind a bush and ran to the +side of Beaumains. + +'Go not that way, sir knight,' he said, 'for there be six knaves who +have taken my lord and bound him, and now they will surely take you and +your lady unless you go back. I barely escaped with my life, and hid +when I heard you, thinking you were of their thievish company.' + +'Take me to them!' cried Beaumains, and the poor squire, holding the +knight's stirrup-leather, ran with him. And surely, in a little while, +three knaves rushed forth before them in the green drive and bade +Beaumains stand. But grimly he dashed at them, before ever they could +recover. Two he cut down with his good sword as they stood, and the +third, trying to escape, was run between the shoulders. + +Then turning, Beaumains saw in a glade near the drive where three other +knaves stood beside a knight bound to a tree. They dashed towards +Beaumains with spiked clubs uplifted. But the squire rushed at one, +tripped him up and despatched him; and the others suddenly decided to +turn and flee. Their resolution came too late, however, for Beaumains +cut them down as they ran. + +The knight was quickly released by his squire, and came up to his +rescuer, and thanked him heartily for his speedy help. + +'Come with me,' he said, 'you and your lady, to my castle, which is but +a little way hence, and I will fittingly requite thee for the saving of +my life.' + +'Nay,' said Beaumains, 'I will have no reward. All I do henceforth is +but my duty, and I will take naught in payment. Moreover, I must follow +this lady.' + +The knight went to the lady, and begged that she would accept his +hospitality, for the twilight was deepening and they were yet far from +a town. The damsel consented, but, on reaching the castle of the +knight, she would not permit Beaumains to sit at the same table with +her. + +'Take the knave hence!' she cried haughtily. 'He is but a scullion from +King Arthur's kitchen, and is not fit to sit with a lady of rank. He is +more suited, sir knight, to dine with your turnspits.' + +'Lady, I do not understand your words,' said the knight, 'for this +gentleman hath proved himself a man of knightly courage and courtesy +this day.' + +'As for that,' said the lady, 'I count it naught. He took the rascals +unawares, and they had no heart. They were but sorrier knaves than he +is.' + +'Well,' said the knight, 'since you mislike him so, he shall sit with +me, and you shall sit alone.' + +So it was done, and while the lady sat eating her meal in chilly +silence at one table, Beaumains and the knight, his host, laughed and +talked merrily over their dinner at another. + +Next morning, early, Beaumains and the lady were up and away while yet +the dew shone on the leaves. Soon they passed through a great forest +and approached a wide river. In a little while they rode down to where +a roughly paved way ran into the water, and, looking to the other bank, +Beaumains was aware of two knights on horseback, stationed as if to +hinder his passing the ford. + +'Now, sir kitchen knight,' laughed the lady mockingly, 'what sayest +thou? Art thou a match for these two knights, or wilt thou not turn +back?' + +'I would not turn if they were six,' replied Beaumains quietly. + +With that he rushed, with spear at rest, into the ford, and one of the +waiting knights came swiftly against him. They met in the midst with so +great a shock that their spears were splintered. They then closed +fiercely with their swords, and hurtled about in the foaming, dashing +water, beating at each other. Suddenly Beaumains struck the other so +hard a stroke on his helm that he was stunned, and fell from his horse +into the stream, which whirled him away into the deeps, and there +drowned him. + +Then Beaumains rode swiftly towards the other knight, who with his +lance dashed against him. But Beaumains parried the spear stroke, and +with one great heave of his sword, clove the other's helm in twain, so +that the knight fell like a stone. + +'Alas!' cried the lady, as she came across the ford, 'that ever kitchen +knave should have the mishap to slay two such noble knights! Doubtless +thou thinkest thou hast done mightily, sir knight of the turnspit, but +I saw well how it all happened. The first knight's horse stumbled on +the stones of the ford, and the other thou didst stab from behind. +'Twas a shameful deed!' + +'Damsel,' said Beaumains, quiet in words though hot of mind at her +words, 'ye may say what ye will. I only know that I fight fairly, as +God gives me strength. I reck not what ye say, so I win your lady +sister from her oppressor.' + +'Thou knave of impudence!' cried the lady. 'Thee to speak of winning my +lady sister, high of rank and rich in wide lands as she is! But thou +shalt soon see knights that shall abate thy pride.' + +'Whatever knights they be, I care not, so that I win good words from +you at last,' said Beaumains. + +'Those thou shalt never have, thou churl,' replied the lady scornfully. +'For all that thou hast done has been by chance and misadventure, and +not by the prowess of thy hands. But if thou wilt follow me, why, then, +come, and I shall the more quickly be rid of thee, for of a surety thou +wilt soon be slain.' + +Beaumains answered naught, and so they went on their way. + +[Illustration: BEAUMAINS WINS THE FIGHT AT THE FORD] + + +Thus they fared until evensong, and then they came to a waste land, +where their way led through a narrow darkling valley. And at the head +thereof they entered upon a wide land, black and drear to the very +skies, and beside the way was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung a +black banner and a black shield, and by it, stuck upright, was a long +black spear, and beside it was a great black horse covered with silk, +and a black stone fast by it. + +And upon the stone sat a knight in black armour, at sight of whom the +damsel cried: + +'Now, my kitchen knight, 'tis not too late. Fly back through the +valley, or this knight will surely slay thee.' + +'Nay, I will not,' said Beaumains, 'for I fear him not.' + +The black knight came to the damsel and asked if she had brought this +knight from King Arthur's court to be her champion. + +'Fie!' she said angrily, 'he is no knight. He is but a knave that was +fed for alms in the king's kitchen, and would follow me in spite of all +I say. And I would that you would rid me of him. To-day he slew two +noble knights at the passage of the water, and all by evil chance.' + +'A strong knave, in truth,' answered the knight, 'and a saucy one. Then +this will I do. He shall leave me his horse and armour, for since he is +but a knave, my knightly hands may not harm him.' + +'You speak lightly of my horse and armour,' said Beaumains, 'but I will +have you know that you get naught from me, and moreover I will pass +these lands with this lady in spite of you.' + +'Thou knave!' cried the knight angrily, 'yield me this lady and thyself +without ado!' + +'Let me see what thou canst do to take us,' replied Beaumains, and +laughed gaily. + +At this the knight in a rage leaped upon his horse and they thundered +together. The black knight's spear broke, but Beaumains' lance pierced +him through the side and broke off short. Nevertheless, though badly +wounded, the black knight drew his sword and fought manfully, striking +Beaumains many mighty blows and bruising him sorely. + +But suddenly his lifted sword fell from his hand, and turning in his +saddle, he dropped to the ground in a swoon, and shortly died. + +And Beaumains, seeing that the black armour was better than his own, +armed himself in it with the aid of his dwarf squire, and rode after +the damsel. + +But ever as before she railed at him, telling him he had conquered the +black knight by a cowardly blow; but Beaumains would answer her nothing +in anger. + +Anon they came to the edge of a vast and dark forest, and from its +shadows came a knight in green armour, who cried to the damsel: + +'Lady, is that my brother the Black Knight whom ye bring riding behind +ye?' + +'Nay, sir knight, it is not your brother,' she replied. 'It is but a +kitchen knave who by treachery hath slain your noble brother, the +Knight of the Black Lands.' + +'Thou traitor!' cried the green knight. 'Now shalt thou surely die, for +my brother, Sir Percard, was a most noble knight and a valiant. And to +think that he fell by the dirty hand of a knave is great shame.' + +'I am no knave!' said Beaumains, 'but of lineage as high as thine, +maybe. And I slew your brother in knightly fashion.' + +But the green knight stayed not to answer, and they hurtled together, +and clashed midway as if it were thunder. And Beaumains' stroke was so +mighty that both the green knight and his horse fell to the ground. + +Swiftly the green knight rose to his feet, and then, Beaumains having +alighted, they rushed together with their swords, and stood a long time +hacking, thrusting and parrying. And each hurt the other sorely. + +'Oh, my lord, the green knight,' cried the damsel, 'why do ye stand so +long fighting with that kitchen knave? A shame it is to see a proved +knight matched by a dirty scullion! Slay him for me and be done!' + +Shamed by her words the green knight gave a fierce stroke and clove +Beaumains' shield in twain. Then Beaumains, smarting with this blow, +and in anger at the words of the lady, suddenly gave the green knight +so great a stroke that he fell upon his knees, and then was thrust +grovelling upon the earth. + +Swiftly Beaumains cut the fastenings of his helm, and, tearing it off, +lifted his sword to strike off the other's head. + +But the green knight prayed of his mercy and pleaded hard for his life. + +'Thou shalt plead in vain,' said Beaumains, 'unless this lady shall beg +thy life of me.' + +'Shame on thee, thou kitchen knave!' cried the lady, biting her lip +with anger. 'Thinkest thou I shall crave aught of thee, and be so +beholden to thee?' + +'Then he shall die!' cried Beaumains. + +'O lady, suffer me not to die!' cried the prostrate knight, 'when a +fair word from you will save my life. And you, sir knight, give me my +life, and I will yield myself and thirty knights to be your men and do +your commands while they live.' + +'Now that is a grievous shame!' cried the lady, 'What, Sir Green +Knight, art such a coward as to crave thy life of a scullion knave, and +promise him thirty knights' service!' + +'You and your thirty knights shall avail you naught,' said Beaumains +grimly, 'and since this lady will not beg thy life of me, why, now I +shall slay thee.' + +With that he raised the sword, but the lady cried out: + +'Put down, thou rascally knave, and slay him not, or thou shalt repent +it!' + +'Lady,' said Beaumains, and bowed full gently, 'your command is to me a +pleasure, and at your desire I give him his life.' + +Then the green knight did homage to Beaumains and gave up his sword. +Afterwards he took them to his castle near by, where they passed the +night. + +Next morning the green knight, whose name was Sir Pertolope, +accompanied them some distance on their way, and at parting he told +Beaumains that he and his thirty knights would do service when and +where he might desire. Thereupon Beaumains told him that he must go and +yield himself and his knights to King Arthur, and this Sir Pertolope +promised faithfully to do. + +And again, when they had gone some way and had reached a little town, a +knight challenged Beaumains, who, having fought with the stranger and +overpowered him, threatened to slay him unless the lady begged for his +life. This she did, after she had said many bitter and evil things, and +Beaumains commanded the knight to go, with threescore knights which +were in his service, and yield himself up to King Arthur. + +Then Beaumains and the lady went on again, and the lady was full of +rage in that she had been compelled a second time to plead with him for +the life of a knight. + +'Thou shalt get thy full wages to-day, sir kitchen knight,' said she, +'for in a little while there will meet us the most valiant knight in +the world, after King Arthur. Methinks thou wouldst do the better part +to flee, for the evil luck which thou hast had with the three knights +you have overcome will not avail thee upon this one.' + +'Madam,' said Beaumains, 'ye know that ye are uncourteous so to +reproach me. I have done you great service these three days, but ever +ye call me coward and kitchen knave. Yet those who have come against +me, whom you said would beat me, are now either slain or have yielded +homage to me.' + +'The greater shame,' said the lady, 'that so lowborn a churl as thou +art should have knights yield to thee who should have slain thee.' + +Beaumains answered nothing more, but his heart was very heavy at the +thought that, do what he might, he could not win this lady to speak +fairly of him. + +Towards noon, as they rode, they saw the white towers of a fair city, +and before its gates was a field newly mown, with many tents therein of +divers rich colours. + +'Lo, there is the town of the man that shall cut thy comb, thou proud +varlet!' said the lady. 'A brave and proved knight is he, by name Sir +Persaunt of Mynnid. And he hath a following of five hundred knights and +men-at-arms.' + +'A goodly lord, indeed,' replied Beaumains, 'and one I fain would see.' + +The lady laughed mockingly. + +'Thou shalt see him too soon to please thee, I doubt not,' she replied, +'for he is the lordliest knight that ever whipped a knave.' + +'That may well be,' said Beaumains, 'and the more desire I have to see +him.' + +'Thou fool!' cried the lady angrily. 'Thou hadst better turn and flee +while there is time.' + +'Not a step will I,' replied he with a laugh. 'For, look you, if he be +so lordly a knight as you say, he will not set his five hundred knights +on me at once. But if he will send but one against me at a time, I will +do my best till my strength goes from me. No man, be he knave or +knight, can do more.' + +At his quiet brave words the lady's heart smote her. She repented of +her evil tongue, when she thought how valiant and true this unknown man +had been on her behalf. + +'Sir,' she said in a gentler voice, 'ye make me marvel. Thou hast +spoken boldly, and, by my faith, thou hast done boldly, and that makes +me wonder of what kin thou art. But as ye are so brave, and have done, +you and your horse, great travail these three days, I misdoubt that ye +will get hurt if ye go further. Therefore I bid you turn, or ever it be +too late.' + +'Nay, I will not,' said Beaumains. 'It would be a great shame that now, +when we are but a few miles from your lady sister's oppressor, I should +turn back.' + +'But, sir, I counsel ye to do so,' said the lady. 'For the strength of +Sir Persaunt, even if ye conquer him, is but little compared with the +great strength of the Red Knight who doth oppress my sister. And I am +sure you have little hope of overcoming him.' + +'Nevertheless, lady, I will essay to conquer him,' said Beaumains, 'for +it is but my duty and my desire to rescue your lady sister as I have +resolved.' + +'I marvel what manner of man ye be,' said the lady. 'It must be that ye +come of noble blood, for no woman could have spoken or treated you more +evilly than I have done. Yet ever you have courteously suffered all I +said.' + +'Lady, it is but a man's duty to suffer a woman's wayward words,' said +Beaumains, 'and they have not been without service to me. For the more +ye angered me the more strength of wrath I put into my blows, and so +was enabled to overcome your enemies. And as to what I am and whence I +came, I could have had meat in other places than in King Arthur's +kitchen, but all that I have done was to try my friends. And whether I +be knave or gentleman, I have done you gentleman's service.' + +'That is truth, Sir Beaumains,' said the lady, all soft and penitent +now, 'and I beg of you forgiveness for all my evil words.' + +'I forgive ye with all my heart,' said Sir Beaumains, 'and I tell you, +lady, that now that you speak kindly to me, it gladdens me greatly, and +I feel that there is no knight living whom I could not strike down for +the sake of yourself and your lady sister.' + +By this time Sir Persaunt had seen them, and had sent a squire to ask +Beaumains whether he came in peace or war. + +'If he will not let us pass,' replied Beaumains, 'it shall be war.' + +At that they saw Sir Persaunt array himself in his armour and mount his +horse, and now he came rushing across the field at utmost speed, his +lance in rest. Beaumains also made his horse leap forward swiftly, and +the two knights met with so great a force that both their lances +splintered in many pieces, and their horses fell dead upon the field. + +But the two knights instantly disentangled themselves, and fought on +foot with shield and sword. So furiously did they hurl themselves at +each other that often they fell to the ground. For two hours the duel +raged, till their hauberks were tattered and their shields were hacked, +while both were sorely bruised and wounded. + +At length Beaumains thrust Sir Persaunt in the side, and the latter's +attack became less eager. Finally Beaumains hit the other so great a +stroke that he fell headlong, and instantly Beaumains leaped astride of +him and unlashed his helm, as if about to slay him. + +Then Sir Persaunt yielded him and pleaded for his life, and the lady, +who had stood watching the combat, ran forward, placed her hand on Sir +Beaumains' sword arm, and cried: + +'Of your mercy, Sir Beaumains, yield him his life for my sake.' + +'I do it willingly,' cried he, helping the knight to rise, 'for he hath +nobly fought and so deserves not to die.' + +'Gramercy,' said Sir Persaunt, 'and now I know thou art the strong +knight who slew my brothers the Black Knight of the Thorn and the Green +Knight of the Wood. And now I will be your man, and five hundred +knights of mine shall do your service as and when you will.' + +And that night they supped bounteously in Sir Persaunt's castle, and +the lady besought Beaumains to sit by her at the same table, and all +three made merry company. + +In the morning, after they had heard mass and broken their fast, +Beaumains and the lady set out again, and Sir Persaunt went with them +to the drawbridge. + +'Fair lady,' said he, 'where dost thou lead this valiant knight?' + +'Sir,' said the lady, 'he is going to raise the siege which hath been +set by the tyrant knight of the Reed Lands.' + +'Ah, then he goes to Castle Dangerous, and on the most perilous +adventure that any man could take. For they say the Red Knight hath the +strength of seven men. And he doth oppress one of the fairest and +sweetest ladies in the world. I think you are her sister, Dame Linet?' + +'That is my name,' replied the lady, 'and my sister is Dame Lyones.' + +'This Red Knight is the most dangerous knight in the world,' said Sir +Persaunt to Beaumains, 'and hath besieged that fair lady these two +years. Many times he might have forced her for terror to have married +him, but he keeps the siege in hopes that Sir Lancelot or even King +Arthur would come to rescue the lady. For he hateth all true knights, +but those two with most bitterness.' + +So they parted from Sir Persaunt and rode onwards, and the lady spoke +now full friendly to Beaumains. + +In a little while, when they had passed through a fair forest, they +came upon a plain, and in the distance was a high castle with many +tents about it, and men passing to and fro between them. And as they +rode under some withered trees by the edge of the forest, they saw, +hanging by their necks from the bare boughs, many goodly knights in +armour, with their shields and swords hung before them. + +At this shameful sight Beaumains checked his horse and asked: 'What +means this?' + +'Fair sir,' said Linet, 'abate not your cheer at this dreadful sight, +for ye have need now of all your courage, or else are we all shamed and +destroyed. These dead knights are those who have come against the Red +Knight trying to rescue my sister from his power. But the tyrant knight +hath overcome them, and slain them thus shamefully by hanging.' + +'Now Heaven aid me,' said Beaumains, 'for this is a most shameful and +unknightly custom, and well doth that evil knight deserve death.' + +'Nevertheless he is a knight of great prowess and force, though of evil +custom,' replied the lady, 'and no one hath ever borne him down in +battle.' + +With that they came to a sycamore-tree which stood alone in the plain, +and on it was hung a great horn of elephant bone, with gold work +curiously wrought. + +'Fair sir, ye must blow that horn if ye wish to do battle with the Red +Knight. But, sir,' went on the lady quickly, and caught at Beaumains' +arm that already had lifted the horn, 'be ye not overbold. It is now +the hour of prime, and it is said that the Red Knight's force +increaseth to the strength of seven men until it is noon. Wait, +therefore, until noon shall be past, and his strength shall diminish.' + +'Nay, nay,' said Beaumains, 'speak not thus to me. I will assail him +however mighty he be, and either I will beat him or die with honour in +the field.' + +Therewith he lifted the horn and blew so great a blast that instantly +knights came in a great press from the tents, and people looked out +from the walls and windows of the castle. + +Then Beaumains saw a tall man come running from a tent, arming himself +as he came. Two barons set his spurs upon his heels and an earl buckled +his helm upon his head. He was all in red armour, from the plume which +waved upon his crest to the cloth which was upon his horse. And his +shield was all of red, with but a black heart in the centre thereof. + +Then he waited for Beaumains in a little hollow before the castle, so +that all that were therein might see the combat. + +'Now, fair sir,' said Linet, 'it behoves you to have great courage and +heart, for yonder is your deadliest enemy, and at yonder window is my +lady sister, Dame Lyones.' + +Beaumains looked to where Linet was pointing, and saw at a window the +loveliest lady he had ever seen. And as he looked she smiled and bowed +to him, and he felt his heart burn with love for her. + +'Truly,' he said, 'she is the fairest lady I have ever looked upon, and +she shall be my lady.' + +'Cease thy looking at that lady,' called the Red Knight in a harsh and +angry voice. 'She is my lady, and soon shall she see thy foolish body +swinging from the tree for the ravens to pluck, as others hang there +afore thee.' + +''Tis for that shameful sight and for the love of this lady that hates +you and your evil custom, that I am resolved to slay you, if God so +wills,' was the stern reply of Beaumains. + +'A boastful rogue thou art,' cried the Red Knight, and laughed +scornfully. 'What is thy name, and whence come ye, Sir Black Knight? +For surely from your talk you must be one of those prating and soft +fools of the Round Table?' + +'I will not tell thee my name,' said Beaumains. 'And as yet I am not of +the worshipful company of King Arthur's Round Table. But when I have +slain thee and rid the world of so shameful a knight, then shall I +crave the king to receive me into that high fellowship of noble and +courteous knights.' + +'Make thee ready!' shouted the Red Knight in a furious voice. 'I will +talk no more with thee.' + +With that they withdrew a little from each other, and then, spurring +their horses, and with lances in rest, they hurled themselves towards +each other. With so great a crash did they come together that both +their spears were broken into a hundred pieces, and their breastplates, +girths and cruppers burst, and the two knights fell to the ground half +stunned with the shock. + +But in a little while they avoided their struggling horses, and leaping +towards each other with their swords, they cut and hacked each the +other so fiercely that great pieces of their shields and armour flew +off. + +Thus they fought till it was past noon, and would not stop, till at +last they both lacked wind, and thus they stood swaying, staggering, +panting, yet feinting and striking with what strength they had. The Red +Knight was a cunning fighter, and Beaumains learned much from him, +though it was at the cost of many a gaping wound. + +When it was evensong they rested by mutual accord, and seated on two +molehills near the fighting place, they had their helms taken off by +their pages and their worse wounds bound up. Then Beaumains lifted up +his eyes to the lady at the window, and saw how her looks were tender +with pity for him. + +So heartened was he at the sight that he started up swiftly, and bade +the Red Knight make him ready to do battle once more to the uttermost. +Then they rushed fiercely at each other, and the fight raged more hotly +than ever. At length, by cunning, the Red Knight suddenly struck +Beaumains' sword from his hand, and before he could recover it, the Red +Knight had with a great buffet thrown him to the ground, and had fallen +upon him to keep him down. + +Then cried the Lady Linet piteously: + +'O Sir Beaumains! Sir Beaumains! where is your great heart? My lady +sister beholds you, and she sobs and weeps, for surely she feels the +evil Red Knight hath her almost in his power!' + +At that, so great a rage possessed Beaumains, that with one great +effort he thrust the Red Knight from him, and, leaping up, he seized +his sword again, and so fiercely did he beat upon his enemy that the +Red Knight sank to his knees, and then was thrust grovelling to the +ground. + +Beaumains leaped astride him, and cut the fastenings of his helm. Then +the Red Knight shrieked for mercy. + +'Thou recreant and coward!' said Beaumains. 'Did not any of those +knights that thou hast hung cry to thee for mercy? What pity and what +mercy didst thou give them? And thou deservest none from me, nor from +any man!' + +With that he slew him at a stroke, and the people in the castle cried +out with joy. + +Their leader being dead, his following of earls, barons and knights +came and did homage to Beaumains, and he commanded that instantly they +should betake themselves to the court of King Arthur and yield them +into his hands. + +Then for ten days the Lady Linet made Beaumains rest him in the Red +Knight's tent, while she tended his many sore wounds. But ever +Beaumains desired to go into the castle to see the lady he loved, but +his hurts forbade him. + +On the eleventh day he would no longer be denied, but having armed +himself, all except his helm, which his page carried, he rode up to the +castle gate. But as he came thither he saw many armed men, who pulled +up the drawbridge before him, so that he should not enter. + +Therewith he saw a knight at a window, who called to him. + +'Fair sir, I am Sir Gringamor, brother to the Lady Lyones,' said the +knight. 'I will that ye enter not yet. We know that you have proved +yourself a bold and brave fighter, but we know not who you are. +Therefore, unless you tell me your name and kindred, I may not suffer +my sister to see you.' + +'I know naught of thee, sir knight,' cried Beaumains sternly. 'My +business is with the lady, from whom I think I deserve a little +kindness, for I have bought her deliverance and her love with some of +the best blood in my body. Must I go away then, thinking she cares more +for a name and noble lineage than for brave deeds and devotion? Tell +me, Sir Gringamor, is this the will of the Lady Lyones?' + +'Ye have but to tell us thy name and of thy lineage, brave man,' said +Sir Gringamor. + +'Nay, that I will not!' said Beaumains, for his heart was hot with +shame and anger. 'If I were but a churl, I should reckon myself a +nobler man than the recreant knight from whom I have rescued you and +your sister. But since he was a knight, it seems ye would reckon him as +of greater honour than the brave churl that slew him for his evil +deeds.' + +'Nay, nay, it is not so!' came a sweet voice crying in tears, and Sir +Beaumains saw the tender face of the Lady Lyones at the window where +Sir Gringamor had been. 'My brave knight, think not ill of me, for this +is none of my will, for I am mocked and my pleasure denied in my own +castle by this my over-careful brother. I love thee, sir knight, +whatsoever thou art, for I feel that thou art gentle and brave, and as +good a man as any lady might love. And I beg you go not far from me, +for I will have my will erelong, and I tell you now that I trust you, +and I shall be true to you, and unto my death I shall love you and no +other. And whenever I may come to you I will, in spite of this my +brother.' + +Saying these words, the lady sobbed as if her heart would break, and +hiding her face in her hands she was led away by her women. + +With that Beaumains' heart smote him, and he was resolved to reveal his +name and lineage for the sake of the dear lady who loved him. But even +as he thought this, he was aware of a party of knights coming towards +him from the plain, and soon he recognised that they were of the +company of King Arthur's Round Table. + +And the foremost knight, who bore his helm in his hand, rode forward to +him, crying: + +'O Gareth, Gareth, my brother, how hast thou deceived us all!' + +Then did Sir Beaumains clasp the other's hand right warmly, for this +was his own brother, Sir Gaheris, sent from King Arthur to bring him +home. + +When Sir Gringamor knew of the coming of these knights, quickly he bade +the drawbridge to be lowered, and in a little while the knights were +being welcomed in the hall. + +'Sir Gringamor,' said Sir Gaheris, 'I find that I come at a lucky +chance for the happiness of my brother. Already the fame of his brave +deeds has reached King Arthur, for the knights he hath overcome have +put themselves in the mercy of the king.' + +'Sir Knight of the Round Table,' said Sir Gringamor, 'tell me who is +this brave knight that will not say his name?' + +'He is Sir Gareth, my brother, the youngest son of the King of Orkney,' +replied Sir Gaheris, 'and fit for the highest lady in the land. He hath +played this trick upon us all, to test us. We did not know him, for he +hath grown up to manhood while we have been long away from home. But +ever he hath had an adventurous and witty mind.' + +'Sir, I thank you,' said Sir Gringamor, and taking Sir Gareth by the +hand he led him into the bower where sat the Lady Lyones, who sprang to +meet Sir Gareth. To her Sir Gringamor told all that he had heard, and +then left Sir Gareth to tell her more of himself. + +And in a little while, at the court of King Arthur, they were married +with great feastings and joustings and with all things to make merry. +And Linet was wedded at the same time to Sir Gaheris. For though the +Lady Linet was sharp of tongue, she was of great and good heart, and +well beloved of all who knew her well. + + + + +V + +HOW SIR TRISTRAM KEPT HIS WORD + + +In the days when King Arthur had established his kingdom, he was called +Emperor of Britain and its three islands. Nevertheless, there were +kings who were rulers in their own lands, but they held their +sovereignty of Arthur and had done homage to him and sworn fealty. In +Wales there were two kings, in the north were eleven kings, and these +he had conquered in a great battle by Sherwood Forest; in Cornwall were +two kings, and in Ireland three kings, but all gave service to the +great King Arthur. + +That part of Cornwall which was called the lands of Tintagel formed the +kingdom of a prince named Mark, and he owed certain yearly tribute or +truage to King Anguish of South Ireland. It befell one day that King +Anguish sent a messenger, who came to King Mark as he sat in hall, and +said: + +'Sir king, my master bids me say that the truage which you owe unto him +is unpaid for seven years past, and if it be not paid he will demand of +you double the sum.' + +Now King Mark was a man of a mean and covetous mind, and he loved not +to give money. Therefore, to put off the payment for a little while, he +made answer thus: + +'Tell your master that we will pay him no truage; and if your lord says +he will have it, let him send a trusty knight of his land that will +fight for his right, and we will find another to do battle with him.' + +When King Anguish heard the message he was wondrous wroth, and called +into him the brother of his queen, Sir Marhaus, a good knight of +prowess nobly proved, and, besides, a knight of the Round Table. The +king craved of him to go and do battle for the truage due from Mark of +Cornwall. + +'Sir,' said Sir Marhaus, 'I will gladly go and do battle for you on +this saucy king or his knight. I ween ye shall have your truage to the +last groat, for I fear not the best knight of the Round Table, unless +it be Sir Lancelot, and I doubt not King Mark hath no knight of such +worth and prowess as I.' + +So in all haste Sir Marhaus set forth in a ship, and in a little while +cast anchor fast by the shore where, on two high cliffs, the castle of +Tintagel frowned upon the sea. When King Mark understood that so noble +a knight as Sir Marhaus had come to do battle for the truage, he was +full of sorrow, and wept as he looked upon the bags of gold in his +treasure-chest. He knew of no knight of his court that durst face Sir +Marhaus, and he feared much that he would have to part with his gold. + +Daily Sir Marhaus sent a message up to the castle gate, demanding +payment of the truage, or that a knight should come forth to do battle +against him. + +Then King Mark let make a proclamation through all the lands, that if a +knight would fight to save the truage of Cornwall he should fare the +better as long as he lived. But the days and weeks went by and no +knight came forward. Then Sir Marhaus sent at the last a message which +said, that if within a day and a night a champion for King Mark came +not forward, he should depart. + +All that day King Mark was sore and ill of mind and haggard of face, +and could never stay still, but was for ever faring with his barons to +where he could look down upon the ship of Sir Marhaus, and see the +knight waiting in his armour. + +Late in the afternoon, as the king stood thus, gnawing his nails for +rage, and so hot and wrathful that none of his barons dare speak to +him, there came two horsemen riding swiftly into the courtyard of the +castle, and at the sound of their horses' feet King Mark turned +eagerly. + +A young squire was the foremost rider, and he was a youth full handsome +and tall, with brown curly hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a +surcoat of red satin and a mantle of crimson, trimmed with gold; and on +his head was a cap of rich purple, and his feet and legs were clad in +fine leather, with gold bosses on his shoes. Alighting easily, he +doffed his hat and came towards the king: + +'Sir,' said he, 'if ye will give me the order of knighthood, I shall do +battle to the uttermost with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.' + +King Mark looked the young man up and down, and saw that though he was +young of age, yet he was passing well made of body, with broad +shoulders and of big limbs. The heart of King Mark became light. + +'Fair son,' he said, and his barons marvelled at his soft words, 'what +are ye and whence come ye?' + +'Sir,' said the youth, 'I come from King Talloch, Prince of Lyones, and +I am a gentleman's son.' + +'And your name and birthplace--what are they?' + +'My name is Tristram, sir, and I was born in Lyones.' + +'Young sir,' said the king, 'I like your manner, and I think ye should +be a good man of your hands. Therefore will I make you knight if ye +will fight with Sir Marhaus.' + +'That is why I have come,' said Tristram. + +Eagerly the king bade a baron give him his sword, and commanded +Tristram to kneel, and then and there he tapped his shoulder with the +flat of the sword and bade him rise, 'Sir Tristram of Lyones.' + +The king commanded his scrivener to come to him, and on the low wall +overlooking the sea the man of inkhorn and goosequill laid his +parchment, and wrote a letter to Sir Marhaus at the king's dictation, +saying that a knight would battle with him in the morning. A messenger +was sent therewith without delay, and the king went into supper, +snapping his fingers and joking with his barons in great glee. + +But in the midst of supper a parchment was brought to the king and his +face fell, and he commanded the new-made knight to come from his seat +and stand before him. + +'Hark ye,' he said, his face dark, 'this prideful Sir Marhaus, waiting +so long, hath made his terms the harder. I fear, good fellow, your +knighthood hath been earned of me too easily, even if ye are not in +league with this pesky Irish knight,' he went on, his narrow eyes +gleaming with suspicion. 'He sayeth now that he will not fight with any +knight unless he be of blood royal on his mother's side or father's. +Say, are ye some starveling knight's brat, or what are ye?' + +Sir Tristram's face went hard and his eyes flashed. + +'No starveling's brat am I, king,' he said, 'unless ye are that +thyself.' + +'What mean you? Have a care of your saucy tongue.' + +'I fear thee not,' laughed Sir Tristram, 'but this I would have you +know. I am thy nephew, son of thy sister Elizabeth, who died in the +forest, and of King Talloch of Lyones.' + +At these words the king rose from his seat and embraced Sir Tristram, +crying: + +'Now, in the name of Heaven, thou art right heartily welcome unto me, +dear nephew.' + +That evening he made great cheer of Sir Tristram, and had his bed made +next to his own in his own royal chamber. On the morrow the king had +Sir Tristram horsed and armed in the best manner. Then he sent a +trumpeter down to the seashore, and let Sir Marhaus know that a better +born man than he was himself would fight with him, and that his name +was Sir Tristram of Lyones, son of the King of Lyones and his queen +Elizabeth, King Mark's sister. Sir Marhaus was right blithe that he +should have to do with such a gentleman. + +Then it was ordained that the two knights should battle on a little +island near the ship of Sir Marhaus, and so young Sir Tristram and his +squire were rowed thereunto, and when he departed, King Mark and his +barons and all the common people were rejoiced to see the young +knight's noble and high bearing, and wished him Godspeed. + +When Sir Tristram landed he saw Sir Marhaus waiting armed in the shadow +of his ship. Sir Tristram's squire brought his master's horse to land, +and clad his master in his armour as was right, and then the young +knight mounted upon his horse and rode towards Sir Marhaus. + +While he was as yet six spear-lengths from him the knight of the Round +Table cried unto him: + +'Young knight, Sir Tristram, what doest thou here? I grieve me of thy +courage, for ye are untried, while I have been well essayed in jousts +and tournaments with some of the best men of their hands as are now +living. I counsel thee to go back.' + +'Fair and well-proved knight,' said Sir Tristram, 'I am for thy sake +made knight, and I have promised to fight thee, and I will do so, as +much for mine uncle's sake as for what worship I may win from doing +battle with ye, who are one of the best renowned knights of the world.' + +'Then I would have ye know, fair sir,' said Sir Marhaus, 'that no +worship shalt thou lose if thou canst only stand against three strokes +of mine, for, by reason of my noble deeds, seen and proved, King Arthur +made me knight of the Round Table.' + +Sir Tristram answered him naught, and then they dressed their spears +and spurred their horses, and ran so fiercely each against the other +that both were smitten to the ground, both horses and men. But Sir +Marhaus had struck a great wound in the side of Sir Tristram, yet so +eager was the young knight that he knew not of it. They leaped up and +avoided their horses, and drew out their swords, and with shield on arm +they lashed at each other like fierce wild boars. Yet for all Sir +Marhaus' strong and bitter strokes he could not beat down the young +knight's guard, and in despite he began to aim at his vizor and his +neck. At this Sir Tristram was wroth, and struck him more furiously. +Thus for two hours the battle waged, and both were sore wounded. But +Sir Tristram was the fresher and better winded and bigger of limb and +reach; and suddenly he heaved his sword up high, and closing upon Sir +Marhaus he smote him with so mighty a buffet upon his helm that the +blade shore through the steel even into the brain-pan. + +So fierce had been the stroke that the sword stuck fast in the bone and +the helmet, and Sir Tristram pulled thrice at his sword before it would +loosen. Sir Marhaus sank to his knees with a deathly groan; then he +threw away his sword and shield, and rising, staggered away towards his +ship. Sir Tristram swooned and fell; and his squire came running to +him, just as the men of Sir Marhaus' ship came and drew their master on +board. Then they swiftly set their sail and flew over the sea. + +Great was the mourning of the barons and the people of Cornwall when it +was known how deep and wide was the wound which Tristram had received +from the lance of Sir Marhaus. Many famous leeches came and searched +the wound and strove to close it, but none availed. When two months had +passed, came an old, old woman, a witch wise in leechcraft beyond all +others, who was called the Mother of the Mists, and who lived in the +Great Shuddering Moor, where only trolls dwelled, and no man ever dared +to go. She also came and searched his wound at the king's desire. + +When she had made her search, with many mumblings and strange words, +she turned and looked keenly at the king. Her eyes gleamed like beads, +her skin was wrinkled and dark, and she laughed a little soft laugh. + +'Lord king,' she said, 'this fine man's wound is poisoned, and naught +can heal it this side the great water. But if he goeth whither the +spear came from which poisoned it, he shall get whole of that wound.' + +''Tis well,' said the king, 'he shall be sent to Ireland.' + +'Ay, ay, ay,' said the old woman, and laughed in Sir Tristram's face. +'Thou shalt be healed, fair chief, but the hand that shall heal thee +shall give thee a deeper wound--a wound that shall never be healed this +side o' thy grave.' + +Forthwith King Mark let a fair ship be purveyed and well stored with +necessary victuals, and Sir Tristram was carried thereto and laid on +his couch on the deck, and Governale, his faithful squire, went with +him. In the sunshine and the brisk wind Sir Tristram felt joyful, and +the merry waves slapped the sides of the ship full prettily as it +cleaved through the blue seas towards the west. + +In the evening they saw the white cliffs and the brown rocks of +Ireland, and Sir Tristram took his harp and played thereon, for he had +learned to harp most featly in France, where he had lived seven years, +to learn all manner of courtly and noble pastimes. Soon the shipmen +cast anchor in a wide sheltered cove beneath a castle which stood on a +high rock beside a fair town. + +Sir Tristram asked the master of the ship the name of that town. + +'Cro-na-Shee, if it please you, my lord,' said the master. + +'It pleases me well,' said Tristram; 'it should mean that there dwell +therein brave and noble knights, and damsels like unto fairies.' + +Out of the merriness of his heart he thrummed his harp with so blithe +and strange a tune that in a little while the very folk upon the shore +came listening, and some began to dance, while others looked sad. For +though the tune was very merry, there was sadness also peeping from it. + +It happened that King Anguish and his court were in that castle by the +sea, and a handmaiden of the queen came to where they sat and told them +of the knight that sat in his ship and harped so strange a lay that it +made one glad and sorry at the same time. + +Then King Anguish sent a knight and begged the harper to take cheer +with him, and Sir Tristram was brought in a litter, and all the damsels +were sad at his sickness, and the knights sorrowed that a knight so +noble-looking should be so wounded. King Anguish asked him who he was +and how he came by his wound. And Sir Tristram, having learned that +this was the King of Ireland, whose champion he had worsted in the +battle, and thinking that his own name would be known, replied: + +'I am of the country of Lyones, and my name is Sir Tramor, and my wound +was got in battle, as I fought for a lady's right.' + +'I pity thee, sir knight,' said the king, who was a right noble king +and lovable, 'and by Heaven's aid, ye shall have all the help in this +country that ye may need.' + +The king told him of the battle which Sir Marhaus had had on his behalf +with a knight named Sir Tristram, and how Sir Marhaus had come home +wounded unto death, and was dead this two months. On which Sir Tristram +feigned to be sorry, but said not much thereon. + +Then did the king order his daughter to come before him. She was called +La Belle Isoude, for that she was the most lovely damsel in all Ireland +and the Out-Isles, and withal gentle and kind; and her father bade her +tend and minister to this stranger knight, who had come to Ireland to +heal him of his wound. + +In a few weeks, so soft was she of her hands and so learned in +leechcraft, she had cleaned Tristram's wound of all poison and he was +hale and strong again. As some reward he taught her to harp, and gave +her many good and costly presents. These she took, but valued them not +so much as his kind words and smiles. More and more she loved to hear +his voice, and when he was gone out hawking or looking at jousts she +was sad and thoughtful, sitting with her fair hands in her lap and her +eyes looking far away, and when she heard his step or his voice in the +hall, then would her sad eyes light up, and a merry tune would hum upon +her lips, and she would gaily talk with her handmaidens, who, +whispering and glancing and nodding to each other as they sat about her +at their spinning frames, knew of her love for Sir Tristram before she +was aware of it herself. + +Sir Tristram cared not overmuch to be with ladies, but was more joyful +to be in hall, talking of hunting, jousting and hawking. All men +regarded him highly for his great knowledge of these things, but as +yet, for fear of hurting his wound which was but freshly healed, La +Belle Isoude forbade him gently to take violent exercise. Sir Tristram +was impatient to be in the saddle again, with lance in rest and his +great charger leaping beneath him. + +Now, to the court of King Anguish there had lately come a knight named +Sir Palomides, famed for his knightly deeds, though still a pagan, and +he was well favoured both of King Anguish and his queen. Sir Palomides +came and made great court to La Belle Isoude, and proffered her many +gifts, for he loved her passing well. Indeed, for her sake he declared +he would be christened and become a Christian knight; but La Belle +Isoude had no care for him, and avoided him as well as she might. + +On a certain day King Anguish made a great cry that a joust and +tournament would be held, wherein only unmarried knights should join, +and the prize would be a fair lady called the Lady of the Laundes, near +cousin to the king. The heralds further said that he who should win her +should marry her three days after, and have all her lands with her. +This cry was made in all Ireland and Wales, and in Logres and Alban, +which are now called England and Scotland. + +It befell the same day that La Belle Isoude came to Sir Tristram, and +she seemed distressed of mind and as if she had wept secretly. + +'Sir Tramor,' she said, 'this tournament shall exalt Sir Palomides +beyond all other knights, unless a better do come forward and overcome +him.' + +'Fair lady,' said Sir Tristram, 'Sir Palomides may well win the prize +against any knight, except it be Sir Lancelot. But if ye think I am fit +to joust I will e'en essay it. Yet he is a proved knight, and I but a +young one and but lately ill; and my first battle that I fought, it +mishapped me to be sore wounded. Yet I will essay it, for I love not +this Sir Palomides.' + +'Ah, but I know thou wilt do well in the battle, and thou shalt have +all my prayers for thy safety and success,' said La Belle Isoude. + +On the first day of the jousts Sir Palomides came with a black shield, +and he was a knight big of his body and on a great horse. He overthrew +many knights and put them to the worst, among them being many of the +knights of the Round Table, as Sir Gawaine and his brother Sir Gaheris, +Sir Agravaine, Sir Kay, Sir Sagramore le Desirous, Sir Owen, who had +been the little page-boy who had saved King Arthur's life in his hall +at Caerleon, and three other knights. All these he struck down, and the +others were adread of him. The people had great marvel, and acclaimed +him with much worship as the victor of the first day. + +The next day he came and smote down King Morgant, the pagan King of +Scotland, as also the Duke of Cambenet. Then, as he rode up and down +the lists proudly flourishing his lance, dressing his shield and +waiting for the other knights to offer themselves to him, he was aware +of a knight all in white armour, with vizor closed, riding quickly +through the gate as if he came from the seashore. + +The stranger knight came with swiftness, lifting his lance in token of +challenge. Whereat Sir Palomides rode to the other end of the lists, +dressed his lance, and together they put their horses in motion. Like +two bulls the knights thundered against each other in the centre of the +lists. The white knight's lance hit the shield of Sir Palomides full in +the centre, and with the shock the pagan knight was lifted from his +saddle, carried beyond his horse, and fell with a great thud to the +ground, while his horse careered onward riderless. + +Sir Gawaine and his fellows marvelled who this stranger knight might +be. Then Sir Palomides, rising from the ground, caught his horse, and +full of shame, would have slunk from the field. But the white knight +rode after him and bade him turn, 'for,' said the stranger, 'he would +better prove him with the sword.' + +Then, alighting, they lashed at each other with their swords. Now Sir +Palomides was a powerful man, and his strokes were passing heavy, but +Sir Tristram, for the stranger knight was he, felt so full of strength +and joy after his long leisure, that he played with Sir Palomides, and +men wondered at the might of his blows, and his swiftness was a marvel +to see. In a while, with a great buffet on the head of the pagan +knight, Sir Tristram felled him to the earth. + +'Now yield thee,' said the white knight sternly, 'and do my command, or +I will slay thee of a surety.' + +Sir Palomides was sore adread, and promised. + +'Swear me this,' said the stranger, 'that upon pain of thy life thou +leave my lady La Belle Isoude, and come not unto her ever again, and +for a year and a day thou shalt bear no armour. Promise me this, or +here shalt thou die!' + +'I swear it,' said Sir Palomides, 'but I am for ever shamed.' + +In his rage Sir Palomides cut off his armour and threw it from him and +fled away on his horse. + +Then the white knight also went away, and none knew who he was. The +king sent after him, to tell him he was the winner of the lady, whom he +should wed, but the messengers could not find him. Men marvelled much +at this, that the victor knight should not come to claim the rich lady +for his wife with the wide lands that went with her. + +When Sir Tristram returned to the private postern where La Belle Isoude +had led him forth secretly, he found her standing breathless, and she +was pale and red by turns, and could not speak at first. + +'Thou--thou hast not failed?' she said, and clasped her hands. + +'Nay,' said Sir Tristram, laughing. 'He will never trouble you again. +And, by Our Lady, I wished there had been six of him, for I never felt +more full of fight and strength than I do this day.' + +'But--but have ye not claimed the prize?' said La Belle Isoude, and hid +her face that was so deathly white. + +'Nay, nor will I,' said Sir Tristram, 'for I crave not to be married. I +would be free and go forth into strange lands to seek adventures.' + +He went from her, with the tune of a hunting song upon his lips, and +saw not how La Belle Isoude trembled against the wall and was near to +swoon. + +For La Belle Isoude herself was the Lady of the Laundes who should be +given to the victor, though this was known to none but herself and the +king and queen. + +The king and queen and all the court marvelled who should be the +stranger knight, and why he had departed, and some suspected Sir +Tristram, but none knew of this except La Belle Isoude and Governale +his squire, and none dared charge him therewith. La Belle Isoude kept +her counsel, and strove to seem lighthearted. + +It fell upon a day that Sir Tristram was disporting himself with other +knights at a game of ball upon the green before the castle, and had +left his sword hung upon the post beside his seat in hall. The queen, +with La Belle Isoude, passed through the hall to go to see the men at +their sport, and on her way she espied Sir Tristram's sword, and the +strange device of a serpent which was upon the handle. She said it was +a marvellous piece of work, and never had she seen the like of it. +Then, by ill hap, she drew the sword from the scabbard, and they both +admired it a long time, looking at its keenness and brightness and the +words of mystery engraved on it. + +Suddenly the queen gave a little cry as of terror, and she pointed to +where, within a foot and a half of the point, there was a piece broken +out of the edge. Then, very hastily, the queen ran with the sword into +her bower, and from her treasure-chest she drew a casket, and from the +casket she drew a tiny piece of doeskin, and from that she took a +fragment of steel. + +While her daughter marvelled what it all might mean, the queen took the +piece of steel and placed it in the broken part of Sir Tristram's +sword, and it fitted so that the break could hardly be seen. + +'Alas!' said the queen, 'this is the piece of sword that the leech took +from the brain of my brother, Sir Marhaus, and this Sir Tramor is the +traitorous knight that slew him!' + +The heart of La Belle Isoude stood still for fear of the ill that would +befall Sir Tristram, for she knew her mother's rage. + +The queen caught up the sword fiercely in her hand and rushed from the +room. Midway through the hall there met her Sir Tristram himself with +his squire Governale, and the queen sped to him and would have run him +through, but for Governale, who snatched the sword from her, though she +wounded him in her wrath. + +Finding her rage thus put to naught, she ran to King Anguish, and threw +herself on her knees before him, crying out: + +'Oh, my lord and husband, here have ye in your house that traitor +knight that slew my brother and your champion, that noble knight, Sir +Marhaus. It is Sir Tramor, as he falsely calleth himself, but the piece +of steel that was taken from my brother's brain fits a notch in his +sword.' + +'Alas,' cried King Anguish, 'then am I right heavy, for he is as full +noble a knight as ever I knew; and I charge ye, have not to do with +him, but let me deal in this matter.' + +The king went to Sir Tristram and found him fully armed, as if ready to +fight for his life, for he knew that now the truth had been discovered. + +'Nay, Sir Tramor,' said the king gravely, 'it will not avail thee to +fight me. But this will I do for the love and honour I bear thee. +Inasmuch as ye are within my court it would be no worship for me to +have thee taken and slain, and therefore will I let thee freely depart +if thou wilt tell me this: Who is thy father and what is thy name? And +didst thou truly and rightly slay Sir Marhaus?' + +'Tristram is my name,' replied the young knight, 'and I am son of King +Talloch of Lyones. For the truage of Cornwall I fought for the sake of +my uncle King Mark, and the battle with Sir Marhaus was the first I +had, for I was made knight for that alone. Sir Marhaus went from me +alive into his ship, though he left his sword and shield behind him.' + +'I may not say that ye have done aught but what a good knight should +do,' replied the king, 'but I may not maintain you in this country +unless I would displease my wife and her kin.' + +'Sir,' said Sir Tristram, 'I thank you for your goodness and for the +kind cheer which I have had here of yourself and your queen and La +Belle Isoude. I will depart straightway when I have bidden your +daughter farewell, for I owe my life to her gentle hands; and I promise +this, that I will be your daughter's servant and knight in right or +wrong, to shield her and fight for her, and do all that a knight may do +in her behalf, as long as I live.' + +Then took he his leave of La Belle Isoude, and he told her all how he +had come to that land. He thanked her heartily for all her gentleness +to him and for her healing of his wound. At first she stood silent, +changing red and white of face, and with downcast eyes, her fingers +straining about each other. When he swore that he would be her knight, +to fight for her whenever she should send for him, and bade her +good-bye, she took the hand which he held forth, but would not look at +him. + +Tristram wondered why her fair hand was so cold. 'Good-bye and God be +with ye always,' La Belle Isoude replied in a faint voice, and then +turned and went from him. Tristram thought she was angered with him for +the slaying of her uncle. + +So in a little while he rode forth with Governale down to the seashore +and looked back not once. There he entered by a ship, and with good +wind he arrived at Tintagel in Cornwall, and King Mark and all his +barons were glad that Tristram was whole again. + +Then Sir Tristram went to his father King Talloch, and there was made +great cheer for him, and wide lands were given him. Nevertheless, he +could not rest long in one place, but went into Logres and Alban and +Wales, seeking adventures, and his fame for prowess was almost as great +as the fame of Sir Lancelot. Whereever he went he took his harp, and in +hall and bower his favourite songs were those that praised the beauty +of La Belle Isoude, her gentle ways and her soft white hands. + +After a year and a day he returned to the court of King Mark and lived +there, and all the knights and ladies admired him, and the praise of +his courtesy was in the mouths of all, noble and simple, high and low. +Then King Mark his uncle began to hate him for the love that all bore +him, and since he had never married and had no son to whom his kingdom +should go after his death, he saw that Sir Tristram would have it, for +he was his next kin, and then, with Lyones and Tintagel, the fame and +power of Tristram would increase abundantly. + +So the king began to cast about in his mind for a way whereby he might +do some hurt to Sir Tristram, or even destroy him. + +He called the young knight to him one day and said: + +'Dear nephew, I have been thinking a long while of taking unto myself a +wife, and I hear much of the beauty and goodness of the king's daughter +of Ireland, whom men call La Belle Isoude. Now I would that you go to +the king and bear my message to him.' + +Sir Tristram was troubled in mind at these words. Since he had left La +Belle Isoude he had had no ease of spirit, for now he knew that he +loved her. Though she had been angered with him for his slaying her +uncle, and he knew that the queen and other kinsfolk of Sir Marhaus +would surely slay him if they could, yet had he hoped in a while to +have gone to King Anguish and found some way to win Isoude for his +wife. + +'Ye are feared to go, then?' sneered King Mark, noting the silence of +Sir Tristram. 'Then I will e'en send some other knight that is bolder.' + +At that Sir Tristram flushed hotly and said: + +'I fear not to go there or anywhere, and I will bear thy message, sir.' + +'It is well,' said the king. 'I will send thee with a fine ship, and a +rich company of knights, and I will get my scrivener to write my +message.' + +Now King Mark said all this by reason of his craft and treachery. He +had heard how Sir Tristram had been full of the praises of La Belle +Isoude, while yet, as he had learned, Sir Tristram had not promised +himself in love to her. By his crafty speech King Mark had hoped to +make Sir Tristram promise to go to Ireland to obtain her, not for +himself, but for King Mark. So, therefore, if the king married La Belle +Isoude, this would cause some grief and hurt to Sir Tristram. + +But King Mark cared not overmuch whether he wedded La Belle Isoude or +not. He believed that Sir Tristram would of a surety be slain by the +kin of Sir Marhaus in Ireland, and, if so, King Mark's plot would +succeed to the full. + +Sir Tristram, sad and troubled, went apart, and rode into a forest, for +now he knew that he had done himself an ill turn. The lady he loved and +whom he wanted to wife for himself he had now promised to woo for +another. + +As he rode moodily through the forest drive, a knight came swiftly +riding on a great horse, its flanks flecked with the foam of its speed. + +'Fair knight,' said the stranger, 'will ye of your courtesy tell me +where I may quickly come at a knight called Sir Tristram of Lyones?' + +'I am he,' said Tristram. 'What would ye?' + +'I thank Heaven that hath led me to you, sir knight,' said the other. +'Here is a message from my master, King Anguish of Ireland, who is in +dire peril of honour and life, and craves aid of you for the love that +hath been atween you.' + +Sir Tristram, much marvelling, took the parchment and read: 'These to +you, Sir Tristram of Lyones, most noble knight, from his lover and +friend King Anguish of Ireland, in sore trouble and straits at Camelot. +Know ye, Sir Tristram, that I have been summoned to King Arthur's court +on pain of forfeiture of his lordship's royal grace, to answer a charge +whereof I knew naught till I came here. Which is that by treason and +felony I caused to be slain at my court in Ireland a cousin of Sir +Bleobaris de Ganis and Sir Blamor de Ganis, and of this evil deed these +knights do most falsely accuse me. And there is none other remedy than +for me to answer them in knightly fashion, my armed body against +theirs. But inasmuch as I am old, and my wasted arm could naught avail +me, and in that they are of such renown and prowess that none of my +knights may hope to overcome them, I pray ye, Sir Tristram, of your +ancient love for me, to come to my aid and fight for me as my champion +in this most cruel charge. But if ye will not, and if ye choose to +remember rather that I thrust you from my court, and would not protect +you against those that meant you ill, then forgive my request, and +leave me to my fate and my dishonour.' + +The heart of Sir Tristram lifted within him for love of the good old +king, and turning, he said: + +'For what day is the trial by combat which your master speaketh of?' + +'For midday on the day before next Sabbath,' said the knight. + +'Go ye at once to your master,' said Sir Tristram, 'and say to him that +I will not fail him, but will make all speed.' + +'Sir, I thank you from my heart,' said the knight, and bowed. Then +wheeling his horse he dashed swiftly away. + +At Camelot, on the day and hour appointed, the lists were set, and +knights and nobles and the common people waited to see the trial by +battle which should prove the innocence or guilt of King Anguish. King +Arthur was not at Camelot, nor was Sir Lancelot, for both were at +Joyous Gard, the castle of Sir Lancelot, which King Arthur had given to +him by the sea in the Northern Marches. In their places, King Kador of +Cornwall and King Uriens of Reged were judges at the trial. + +Ere noon was marked by the gnomon of the dial set up before the judges, +Sir Tristram and his squire Governale rode up the lists, and were met +by King Anguish and his knights. When Sir Tristram saw the King of +Ireland he got swiftly from his horse and ran towards him, and would +have held his stirrup; but the king leapt lightly from his horse, and +with bright looks each embraced and kissed the other. + +'My good lord,' cried Tristram, 'gramercy of your goodness which ye +showed me in your marches, and of your nobleness in calling me unto +your aid, for it is great honour to me that ye ask this, and I will do +all for you to the utmost of my strength.' + +'Ah, worshipful knight,' said the king, 'ye are courteous and noble +beyond all others to come to my aid when I am in such dire need.' + +'Who is he that is appointed to fight with you or your champion?' asked +Sir Tristram. + +'He is of Sir Lancelot's blood,' replied the king, 'and I wot that he +will be hard to overcome, for all those of King Ban's kin are passing +good fighters beyond all others. It is Sir Blamor de Ganis, a great +warrior.' + +'Sir,' said Sir Tristram, 'for the great goodness that ye showed to me +in Ireland and for your daughter's sake, La Belle Isoude, I will take +the battle in hand for you. But ye must first swear that ye never +caused or consented to the death of the knight of which you are +charged, and if I avail in your battle I will crave a boon of you which +you shall grant me.' + +'I swear to Heaven,' replied the king, 'that I did neither cause nor +consent to the death of the knight; and as to the boon that ye shall +ask, I grant it you already.' + +Then King Anguish departed to the judges and cried unto them the name +of his champion, and all the knights of the Round Table that were +there, and the common people, were all agog to see Sir Tristram. The +fame of his fight with Sir Marhaus, and his renown as a harpist and a +lover of hunting, were well known unto all; but never yet had he come +to the court of King Arthur. + +Sir Blamor and Sir Tristram went to each end of the lists and dressed +their harness and their shields. Sir Bleobaris, that was brother to Sir +Blamor, went to him and said: + +'Brother, now remember of what kin ye be, and what manner of man is our +lord, Sir Lancelot, and see that ye suffer not shame. For never would +Sir Lancelot bear it, and he would sooner suffer death.' + +'Have no doubt of me,' said Sir Blamor, 'I shall never shame Sir +Lancelot nor any of our high blood; nevertheless, this Sir Tristram is +a passing good fighter, and if by ill hap he strike me down, then he +shall slay me and so end my shame.' + +'God speed you well,' said Sir Bleobaris, 'but he may not be so great a +warrior as fame saith. For fame grows false as she goes further.' + +When the knights were ready, the herald of the court of Arthur stood +with his trumpet and recited the cause of the quarrel and the names of +the knights about to do battle. Then, lifting his tabard, he bade both +knights make ready; and when his tabard fell to the ground, the knights +lowered their lances in the rests, set spurs to their horses, and +thundered down the lists. With a clang and a crash they met midway, and +then men marvelled as they saw how suddenly Sir Blamor's horse reared +in mid-career, turned right round, and upsetting its rider over its +back, fell to the ground. Sir Blamor, however, was unhurt, and quickly +rising to his feet he drew out his sword, crying to Sir Tristram, as +that knight turned his horse and came towards him: + +'Alight thee, Sir Tristram, for though this mare's son of mine hath +failed me, I trust my good sword shall not fail me.' + +With that Sir Tristram alighted and dressed him to battle, and there +they lashed at each other with mighty strokes on both sides, cutting +and hacking, feinting and guarding, so that as time went on and still +they fought fiercely, the kings and knights marvelled that they were so +great-winded and strong. + +Soon men saw that Sir Blamor was headstrong, and mad with rage, while +Sir Tristram beat not so many false blows, but each was sure, though +slower. Yet Sir Blamor would not rest, but like a wild man would ever +dash against his enemy. Where they fought the trampled sand was stained +with red from their wounds. + +Suddenly men saw Sir Blamor make a heavy stroke which Sir Tristram +avoided, and ere the other could recover, Sir Tristram's sword +descended on his helm with so great a stroke that Sir Blamor fell upon +his side. Sir Tristram leaped upon him and placed the point of his +sword between the bars of Sir Blamor's vizor, bidding him yield. + +When Sir Blamor got his breath he panted forth: + +'Nay, nay, Sir Tristram, I will not say the word, but I require thee, +Sir Tristram de Lyones, as thou art a noble knight and the mightiest +that ever I found, that thou wilt slay me out of hand, for now I would +not live to be made lord of these lands of Britain. Liefer I would die +than live a life of shame, and therefore slay me! slay me!' + +Sir Tristram started back, remembering of what noble blood was this +brave knight. Knowing that he must either make Sir Blamor say the loth +words 'I yield,' or else slay him, he went to where the judges sat, and +kneeled before them and told them what Sir Blamor had said. + +'Fair lords,' Sir Tristram ended, 'it were shame and pity that this +noble knight should be slain, for ye well hear that he will not say the +words of shame, and if King Anguish, whose true knight and champion I +am, will suffer me, I will neither shame nor slay so stout-hearted a +knight.' + +'By Heaven,' said King Anguish, 'I will be ruled for your sake, Sir +Tristram, as ye are the most knight of prowess that ever I saw in my +long life. Therefore I pray these kings and judges that they take the +matter into their own hands.' + +The judges called Sir Bleobaris to them and required his counsel. + +'My lords,' he said, 'though that my brother be beaten of body by this +valiant knight, he hath not beaten his heart, and so I thank God he +hath not been shamed in this fight. And rather than he be shamed,' said +Sir Bleobaris, white and stern, 'I require that you command Sir +Tristram to slay him out of hand!' + +'That shall not be,' said the judges, 'for neither King Anguish nor Sir +Tristram desire to shame your valiant brother.' + +'We do not,' said both the king and Sir Tristram. + +Therewith, by the advice of the judges, Sir Tristram and Sir Bleobaris +took up Sir Blamor; and the two brothers made peace with King Anguish +and kissed each other and swore friendship with him for ever. Then Sir +Blamor and Sir Tristram kissed, and the two brothers, their hands +clasping those of Sir Tristram, swore that there should for ever be +peace and love between them; and this did Sir Tristram swear also. + +Inasmuch as, of his nobleness and generosity, Sir Tristram would not +take Sir Blamor's life because he refused to yield him, Sir Lancelot +and all his kinsmen loved Sir Tristram, and were ever his friends and +spoke well and knightly of him. + +Then King Anguish and Sir Tristram took their leave and sailed into +Ireland with great joy; and when they had arrived there, the king let +make a great cry throughout his dominions, of the manner in which Sir +Tristram had fought for him, and how for that deed he accounted him the +noblest knight among his friends, and that all should treat him with +friendship and no deceit. + +When, also, the queen and the kin of Sir Marhaus heard how Sir Tristram +had borne himself in the trial by combat, they agreed that now they +should not seek to slay him, since his great help in this matter had +wiped out his ill-doing in the slaying of Sir Marhaus. + +So the queen and the knights of the court and the common people made +much of Sir Tristram wheresoever he went; but the joy that La Belle +Isoude had in her heart no tongue may tell. When Sir Tristram was led +to her and they met after so long an absence from each other, men saw +the lovely face light up with so sweet and high a look that they +marvelled at her beauty. Yet they saw how straitly Sir Tristram held +himself, and made not much of his meeting with her and did not seek her +company. + +Then on a day King Anguish asked Sir Tristram what was the boon he +craved. + +'But whatever it be,' said the king, 'it is yours without fail.' + +Sir Tristram's face went hard and white, and after a little while he +said: + +'It is this, my lord. I bear a request from my uncle, King Mark, and it +is that you give him your daughter La Belle Isoude for his wife, and ye +let me take her unto him, for so I have promised him.' + +'Alas,' said the king, and looked full heavily into the eyes of Sir +Tristram, 'I had liefer than all the land that I have that ye should +wed her yourself.' + +Sir Tristram turned away, and made this reply: + +'I have given my promise, and I were ashamed for ever in the world if I +did aught else. I require you to hold to your promise, and to let your +daughter depart with me to be wedded to my uncle, King Mark.' + +'As I have promised, so will I do,' said the king. 'But I let you know +'tis with a heavy heart.' + +Nor would the king say more, knowing that he might make bad worse. But +the surprise and grief of La Belle Isoude, when she knew that Sir +Tristram was to take her to be wife not unto himself but to a stranger, +what tongue may tell and what words may say? Nightly, on the days when +she was being prepared to depart, she wept full sorely in the arms of +her mother or of Bragwine her faithful gentlewoman; but in hall or +abroad she was ever calm and cold, though pale. + +The queen, her mother, feared much of this marriage, and so sent a +swift message to a great witch who dwelled in a dark wet valley in the +midst of the Purple Hills, and for much gold a potent philtre was +prepared. Then, on the day when, with much weeping and many sad +farewells, La Belle Isoude with her gentlewomen and many noble ladies +and knights were to go into the ship, the queen called Bragwine aside, +and giving her a little golden flasket, said to her: + +'Take this with thee, Bragwine, for I misdoubt this marriage overmuch, +and I charge thee do this. On the day that King Mark shall wed my +daughter, do thou mix this drink in their wine in equal parts, and then +I undertake that each shall love the other alone all the days of their +lives.' + +Anon Sir Tristram and La Belle Isoude took ship and got to sea. During +the voyage Sir Tristram kept himself much with the other knights and +rarely sat with Isoude; for in his heart was much grief, and he hated +the fair wind that drove the ship more quickly to the time when he must +give up La Belle Isoude to his uncle. He knew now that he loved none +other woman in the world but her, and never would so long as he should +live. + +Bragwine the maid, seeing the pensive looks of her mistress, and +knowing the wretchedness of her heart, determined to give her mistress +what she most desired. By the aid of Governale, the squire of Sir +Tristram, they poured the philtre into the wine of Isoude and Sir +Tristram as they were about to sit at dinner. + +They thought that the philtre being so potent, it would cause Sir +Tristram to do as King Anguish wished that he would do, and take La +Belle Isoude into his own home at Lyones and wed her himself. + +Sir Tristram and La Belle Isoude sat at dinner and drank the wine. In a +little while Sir Tristram looked at the wine that was in his silver cup +and smelled at it. + +'Sure this is the best wine that ever I drank,' said he, and smiled at +her. + +'It is truly a most sweet and noble drink,' said Isoude, and her heart +was glad to see him smile, who hitherto had kept his face so stern. + +Sir Tristram called his squire. + +'Governale,' said he, 'what wine is this thou hast given us this day? +Let us have another flask of the same.' + +Governale was ever ill at a deception, and began to stammer. + +'My lord,' he said, 'I fear me there is none other.' + +'Ah,' said his master, 'and where got you that?' + +'The gentlewoman of my Lady Isoude,' said he, 'brought it and bade me +mix it in your lordship's wine.' + +'What?' cried Sir Tristram, rising angrily. 'What means this? What +trickery is this?' + +'Oh, my lord, forgive me,' cried Governale. 'But we saw the sorrow of +both your hearts, and we gave you the philtre that was meant for my +lady and King Mark, and--and--my lord, you will break my lady's heart +and your own if ye suffer this.' But Sir Tristram would hear no +further, and fiercely sent his squire from his presence. + +'Ah, my lord,' said La Belle Isoude, 'have those two poor souls done +more evil than we are doing by hiding our hearts from each other? I +would have you know that no ease shall you have all the days of your +life, for I know that you love me, and as to that, there is no living +man in all this world that I love as I love you. If ye think it +unmaidenly in me to say that--then my own wretched heart forgives me.' + +The gentle sorrow in her voice caused Sir Tristram's heart to swell +with rage because he had promised to take her to wed King Mark. + +'Lady,' he said, and his face was full pitiful and pale, 'Heaven knows +that ye say right, and that nevermore shall I have ease after this. But +no more should I have ease, but rather more shame and remorse, if I +should do what my heart bids me do. I gave my promise to mine uncle, +madman that I was, and I must perform it, and suffer. But I could slay +myself to think that you will suffer also.' + +She saw the rage and sorrow in his eyes, and her heart was full of +pity. + +'Do thyself no harm, O noble knight and friend,' said Isoude, 'for thou +art right, and I wrong. But I would have you promise to be my knight +and champion in things both ill and good, while you shall have life.' + +'Lady,' he replied, 'I will be all the days of my life your knight, in +weal and in woe, to come to your aid and battle for your dear name, +when you shall send for me.' + +Sir Tristram gave her a ring, and she gave him another, and quickly +they parted, lest they should repent them of their duty. + +That evening they got to shore, and landed at the foot of Tintagel, and +Sir Tristram led up La Belle Isoude and gave her into the hands of King +Mark, whose looks, for all that he tried to appear satisfied, were sour +as he dwelt on the noble figure of Sir Tristram. Men noticed how pale +and stern the young knight seemed, and that he said few words. + +In a little while, after the wedding of his uncle to La Belle Isoude, +Sir Tristram said farewell to all the court, 'for,' said he, 'he would +go fight the pagans who were ravening in the north,' and so departed, +with Governale his squire. + +Afterwards, seeing the pale queen seated in hall beside King Mark, and +remembering the heaviness of Sir Tristram, some guessed how full of woe +was their parting, but for love and sorrow of Sir Tristram they said +naught of what they thought. + + + + +VI + +THE DEEDS OF SIR GERAINT + + +King Arthur was spending Whitsuntide at Caerleon-upon-Usk, and one day +he hunted the stag in the forests that lay thereby. As he had given +permission for his queen to go and see the hunting, she set out with +one handmaiden, and rode in the misty dawning down to the river, and +across the ford. + +They climbed up the other bank, following the track of the men and +horses which had formed the king's hunting party, until they stood on +the edge of the dark forest, where the young leaves were fresh and +sweetly green. The sun burst forth, and sucked up the mists along the +meadow flats beside the river below them, and the water flashed and the +birds sang. + +'Here will we stay,' said the queen, who felt happy with the sunlight +upon her, and the smell of the forest blowing out from the trees, 'and +though we shall not see the killing, we shall hear the horns when they +sound, and we shall hear the dogs when they are let loose and begin to +cry so eagerly.' + +Suddenly they heard a rushing sound and the thud of hoofs behind them, +and, turning, they saw a young man upon a hunter foal of mighty size. +The rider was a fair-haired handsome youth, of princely mien, yet +withal kindly of look and smile. A riding-robe and surcoat of satin +were upon him, low-cut shoes of soft leather were on his feet, and in +his girdle was a golden-hilted sword. A fillet of gold bound his curly +hair, and a collar of gold, with a blue enamel swastika pendant, hung +about his neck. + +He checked his horse as he neared the queen, and it came towards her +with step stately, swift and proud, and the rider bowed full low to +Gwenevere. + +'Heaven prosper thee, Sir Geraint,' she said. 'And its welcome be unto +thee.' + +'Heaven accord you long life and happiness, O queen,' replied Geraint. + +'Why didst thou not go with my lord to hunt?' asked the queen. + +'Because I knew not when he went,' said Geraint. 'But men told me in +hall that you had gone out alone, and I came to crave permission to +accompany and guard you.' + +'Gramercy,' said the queen. 'Thy protection is very agreeable to me.' + +As they stood talking, they heard the clatter of steel armour, and +looking between the trees, they beheld a proud knight upon a war-horse +of great size, wearing a heavy chain-mail jesseraunt, with coif and +vizored helm, and his horse was also clothed in harness of chain mail. + +Following him was a lady upon a beautiful white horse, which went with +stately and proud steps along the forest way. The lady was clothed in a +great robe of gold brocade, and her headcloth, of fine cambric, was +turned so that her face was hidden. Behind them rode a little dark man, +hairy and fierce of face, dressed as a page; and he sat on a great +horse, strong and spirited, yet the dwarf held it well in hand. Hung to +his saddle-bow was the knight's shield, but the device was hidden by a +cloth, and two lances were fixed to the girdle of the dwarf. In his +right fist the page carried a whip, long and heavy and knotted. + +'Sir Geraint,' said Gwenevere, 'knowest thou the name of that tall +knight?' + +'I know him not, lady,' said Geraint, 'and his helm conceals his face, +and his shield is also hidden. But I will go and ask the page, that you +may learn his name.' + +And Sir Geraint rode up to the dwarfish page. + +'Who is yonder knight?' said Sir Geraint. + +'I will not tell thee,' replied the dwarf, and scowled. + +'Then I will ask him himself,' said Sir Geraint. + +'That thou wilt not, by my head,' said the dwarf angrily, 'for thou art +not of honour enough to speak to my lord.' + +Geraint turned his horse's head to go towards the knight, whereupon the +dwarf spurred forward and overtook him and lashed towards him with the +long and knotted whip. The lash struck the mouth of Sir Geraint, and +blood flowed, and dropped upon the silken scarf that he wore. + +Instantly Sir Geraint turned, with sword half drawn, and the dwarf +cowed and pulled back. But Sir Geraint thought it would be no vengeance +to carve the dwarf's head from his shoulders, and to be attacked +unarmed by the mail-clad knight. + +He thrust his sword back with a clang into its scabbard, and rode +towards the queen. + +'Thou hast acted wisely and nobly, Sir Geraint,' said the queen, 'and I +sorrow for the insult the craven knave hath placed upon thee.' + +'Lady, I fear he was but copying his master,' said Geraint, whose eyes +flashed with anger. 'But if your ladyship will permit me, I will follow +this knight, and at last he will come to some town where I may get arms +either as a loan or from a friend, and then will I avenge the insult +which this stranger knight hath given to you, my queen and lady.' + +'Go,' said Gwenevere, 'but I beg of thee, do not encounter with the +knight until thou hast good arms, for he is a man almost as big as Sir +Lancelot du Lake. And I shall be anxious concerning thee until thou +dost return, or send tidings.' + +'If I be alive,' said Sir Geraint, 'you shall hear tidings of me by +to-morrow at evensong.' + +Thus he departed. All that day Sir Geraint followed the knight and the +lady and the page, keeping them in sight, though at a distance. Through +the forest they went first, and thereafter the road ran along a ridge +of high ground, with the great downs and combes falling and heaving +below their feet, the sun flashing back from lakes and streams, the +bees humming at the flowers in the grass, and the larks rising with +thrilling song in the warm sweet air of the spring. + +Sir Geraint loved it all, but he kept his eyes ever on the knight, who +flashed as he moved far before him. At length he saw the towers of a +high castle, and beneath it the red roofs of a little town nestling at +the foot of the grey walls. They rode into the town, and as the haughty +knight passed through it the people in the booths and cabins and those +beside the way saluted him. He did not acknowledge any of their +greetings, but looked before him proudly, as he had done when he rode +through the solitary paths of the wilderness. + +Sir Geraint looked about him as he rode behind, to see if there was any +armourer or knightly person whom he knew, but there was none. When he +saw the knight and the lady and the dwarf enter the castle, and was +sure that they would sojourn there, he rode about the little town, and +found it full of knights and squires, with armourers and others +cleaning arms, sharpening swords and repairing harness. But no one did +he know of whom to beg a suit of armour and a lance. + +Then he took his way to a little stream beneath the wall of the town, +and on the other side he saw a manor-house, old and ruinous, standing +amidst tall weeds. And thinking he might get lodging there for that +night, he forded the river and went towards the manor. He saw that the +hall-door yawned open, and that a marble bridge led up to it, over a +wide ditch full of stagnant water and thick with green weeds and +rushes. + +On the bridge sat an old and reverend man in clothes that once had been +rich, but now were thin and tattered. And Geraint thought it was not +possible that so poor a place could help him in what he desired. He +looked steadfastly at the old man. + +'Young sir,' said the latter, 'why art thou so thoughtful?' + +'I was thinking, fair sir,' said Geraint, 'whether thou couldst give me +lodging here for this night.' + +'Of a surety,' said the old man, rising. 'It is poor we are, but such +as can be given shall be of our best.' + +He led Sir Geraint into the hall, which was bleak and desolate, and the +hearthstone in the centre was thick with last year's leaves, as if it +had been long since fire had flickered upon it. On the wall there hung +rusty weapons and helms, and through the cracks there crept the ivy +from the outer wall. The horse was tethered in the hall by the old man. + +Then he led Sir Geraint to a door upon the dais, and ushered him into +the bower, and there he saw an old decrepit woman, sweet of look though +thin and peaked. She rose from the cushion on which she sat, greeting +him kindly, and he saw that the satin garments upon her were also old +and tattered. Yet Sir Geraint thought she must have been a lovely woman +in her happy youth. + +Beside her was a maiden, upon whom was a vest and robe poor and thin, +and the veil of her headcloth was old though clean. Yet truly, thought +Geraint, he had never seen a lovelier maiden, nor one with more +sweetness and grace in her smile or gentleness in her voice. And the +heart of him stirred with pity to see her so pale and wan, as if she +fared but poorly. + +'Welcome, fair sir,' said the old dame. 'This is my daughter Enid, who +will gladly prepare food for you.' + +When food had been prepared they sat down, and Geraint was placed +between the white-haired man and his wife, and the maiden served them. + +Afterwards, as they drank weak mead from cups of earthenware, they +spoke together; and Geraint asked whose was the manor in which they +sat. + +'Mine,' said the old man, 'for I built it. And the castle up there and +the town were also mine.' + +'Alas!' said Geraint, 'how is it you and yours have lost them?' + +'For my sins and my greed,' said the old man sadly, 'and bitterly have +I repented me of my wrong. I am Earl Inewl, but I have lost the lands +that made my earldom. For I have a nephew, whom his father, on his +deathbed, gave into my keeping, with all his lands. And I added his +possessions to my own, and when the boy was a man he demanded them of +me, and I would not give them up. So he made war upon me, and took +everything from me except this ruined hall and one poor farm.' + +'Since you are sorry for the greed that hath ruined you,' replied +Geraint, 'I will do what I may to regain your possessions, if God gives +me life. But first I would ask, why went that knight and the lady and +the dwarf just now into the town, and why is there so much furbishing +of arms there?' + +'The preparations are for the jousting that is to be held to-morrow's +morn in the level meadow beside the ford,' responded the old earl. 'And +the prize is to be a falcon of pure gold. The knight thou sawest has +won the falcon two years running, and if he wins it this time he will +have it for his own, and will win the title of the Knight of the Golden +Falcon. And to gain it from him all those knights in the town will +essay. And with each will go the lady that he loveth best, and if a man +takes not his lady with him he may not enter the lists.' + +'Sir,' said Sir Geraint, 'I would willingly have to do with that +knight, for he hath, by the hands of his dwarf page, most evilly +insulted the queen of my dear lord, King Arthur; but I have no armour.' + +'As for that,' said the old man, 'I have arms here that will fit thee; +but if thou hast no maiden with thee, thou canst not do battle.' + +'If, sir,' replied Sir Geraint, 'you and this maiden, your daughter, +will permit me to challenge for her, I will engage, if I escape alive +from the tournament, to be the maiden's knight while I shall live.' + +'What say you, daughter?' said the old earl. + +'Indeed, sir,' replied the maiden, gently flushing, 'I am in your +hands. And if this fair knight will have it so, he may challenge for +me.' + +This said Enid to hide her true thoughts; for indeed she felt that she +had never before seen as noble a youth as Geraint, or one for whom her +thoughts were so kind. + +'Then so shall it be,' said Earl Inewl. + +On the morrow, ere it was dawn, they arose and arrayed themselves; and +at break of day they were in the meadow. Before the seat of the young +earl, who was Inewl's nephew, there was set up a post, and on it was +the figure of a gyr-falcon, of pure gold, and marvellously wrought, +with wings outspread and talons astretch, as if it were about to strike +its prey. + +Then the knight whom Geraint had followed entered the field with his +lady, and when he had made proclamation, he bade her go and fetch the +falcon from its place, 'for,' said he, 'thou art the fairest of women, +and, if any deny it, by force will I defend the fame of thy beauty and +thy gentleness and nobleness.' + +'Touch not the falcon!' cried Geraint, 'for here is a maiden who is +fairer, and more noble, and more gentle, and who has a better claim to +it than any.' + +The stranger knight looked keenly at Geraint, and in a haughty voice +cried: + +'I know not who thou art; but if thou art worthy to bear arms against +me, come forward.' + +Geraint mounted his horse, and when he rode to the end of the meadow +laughter rippled and rang from the people watching him. For he bore an +old and rusty suit of armour that was of an ancient pattern, and the +joints of which gaped here and there. And none knew who he was, for his +shield was bare. + +But when, thundering together, the two knights had each broken several +lances upon the shield of the other, the people eyed Sir Geraint with +some regard. When it seemed that the proud knight was the better +jouster, the earl and his people shouted, and Inewl and Enid had sad +looks. + +'Pity it is,' said Enid, 'that our young knight hath but that old +gaping armour. For when they clash together, I feel the cruel point of +the proud knight's spear as if it were in my heart.' + +'Fear not, my dear,' said the old dame, her mother. 'I feel that him +you have learned to love so soon is worthy a good maiden's love, and I +think that his good knighthood will overcome the other's pride.' + +Then the old knight went to Geraint. + +'O young chief!' he said, 'since all other lances break in thy strong +young hand, take you this. It was the lance I had on the day when I +received knighthood. It was made by the wizard smith who lives in the +Hill of Ithel, and it hath never failed me.' + +Then Sir Geraint took the lance and thanked the old earl, and looked +back to where stood Enid. And his heart leaped to see how proud and +calm she stood, though her lips trembled as she smiled at him. + +With that the strength seemed to course like a mountain stream through +all his body; and from the uttermost end of the meadow he pricked his +horse and rushed towards the proud knight. His blow was so mighty, and +the good lance so strong, that the shield of the proud knight was cleft +in twain, and he was thrust far beyond his horse and fell crashing to +the ground. + +Then Geraint leaped from his horse and drew his sword, and the other +rising to his feet, they dashed together with the fury of wild bulls; +and so battled long and sore until the sweat and blood obscured their +sight. Once, when the proud knight had struck Sir Geraint a mighty +blow, the young knight saw, as he fought, how the maid Enid stood with +clasped hands and a pale face of terror, as if she feared for his life. + +With the sight of the maiden's dread and the memory of the insult done +by the proud knight to Queen Gwenevere, Sir Geraint waxed both fiercer +and stronger; and gathering all his might in one blow, he beat with his +sword upon the crown of the knight's helm, and so fierce was it that +the headpiece broke and the sword-blade cut to the bone. + +Straightway the knight fell down upon his knees and craved mercy. + +'Why should I give mercy to one so full of pride and arrogance?' said +Sir Geraint. 'Thou, through thy servant, hast shamefully insulted the +queen of my lord, King Arthur.' + +'Fair knight,' cried the other, 'I confess it, and I give up my +overbearing henceforth, and I crave for mercy. And if ye give me my +life, I will be your man and do your behest.' + +'I will give thee mercy on one condition,' said Geraint, 'which is that +thou and thy lady and thy dwarf page go instantly and yield yourselves +into the hands of the queen, and claim atonement for your insult. And +whatsoever my lady the queen determines, that shall ye suffer. Tell me +who art thou?' + +'I am Sir Edern of the Needlands,' replied the other. 'And who art +thou, sir knight,' he asked, 'for never have I met so valiant and good +a knight of his hands as thou art.' + +'I am Geraint of Cornwall,' said the young knight. + +'It giveth comfort to me to know that I am overcome by so noble a +knight,' said the other. Then he got upon his horse, all wounded as he +was, and with his lady and the page beside him took his way sadly to +Arthur's court. + +Then the young earl rose and came to Sir Geraint, and asked him to stay +with him at his castle, for he loved all knights of great prowess and +would have them to talk to him. + +'Nay, I will not,' said Sir Geraint coldly; 'I will go where I was last +night.' + +'Have your will, sir knight,' replied the young earl courteously. 'But +I will ask Earl Inewl to permit me to furnish his manor as it should be +furnished for your honour and ease.' + +Sir Geraint went back to the manor, conversing with Earl Inewl and his +wife, and with the maiden Enid. + +When they reached the house, they found it full of the servants of the +earl, who were sweeping the hall and laying straw therein, with tables +and benches as were suitable, and soon a great fire leaped and crackled +on the stone in the centre. Then when Sir Geraint's wound had been +washed and salved and bound, and he had placed upon himself his walking +attire, the chamberlain of the young earl came to him and asked him to +go into the hall to eat. Sir Geraint asked where was Earl Inewl and his +wife and daughter. + +'They are in the bower putting on robes which my lord the earl hath +sent, more befitting their station and your honour,' said the earl's +chamberlain. + +Sir Geraint liked it not that the maiden should be dressed in robes +given by the man who had stripped her father of all his wealth, and he +said coldly: + +'I would that the damsel do not array herself, except in the vest and +veil she hath worn till now. And those she should wear,' he said, +'until she come to the court of Arthur, where the queen shall clothe +her in garments fitting for her.' + +It was so done, and the maiden sat in her poor robes while the other +knights and ladies in the young earl's company glittered and shone in +satin and jewels. But she cared not for this, because Sir Geraint had +bidden her. + +When meat was done and mead was served, they all began to talk, and the +young earl invited Sir Geraint to visit him next day. + +'It may not be,' said Sir Geraint; 'I will go to the court of my lord +Arthur with this maiden, for I will not rest while Earl Inewl and his +dame and daughter go in poverty and rags and trouble. And it is for +this I will see my lord, so that something may be done to give them +maintenance befitting their station.' + +Then, because the young earl admired Sir Geraint for his knightly +strength, his nobility of manner and his prowess, there was sorrow in +his heart for the old Earl Inewl. + +'Ah, Sir Geraint,' he said, 'I am sorry if your heart is sore because +of my kinsman's poor condition; and if you will give me your +friendship, I will abide by your counsel and do what you think I should +do of right.' + +'I thank thee, fair sir,' said Geraint, 'and I will ask ye to restore +unto the Earl Inewl all the possessions that were rightly his, and what +he should have received up to this day.' + +'That I will gladly do for your sake,' said the young earl. + +Thus it was agreed; and such of the men in the hall who held lands +which rightly belonged to Earl Inewl came and knelt before him and did +homage to him. And next morning the lands and homesteads and all other +his possessions were returned to Earl Inewl, to the last seed-pearl. + +Thereafter Sir Geraint prepared to return to the court of King Arthur, +and the Earl Inewl came to him with the maiden Enid, whose gentle face +went pale and red by turns. Putting her hand in the hand of Sir +Geraint, the old man said: + +'Fair sir, your pursuit of that knight, Sir Edern, and your revenge for +his insult, I shall bless until the last day of my life. For you have +done more goodness and justice than I can ever repay you. But if this +my daughter, for whom ye fought yesterday, is pleasing unto you, then +take her for your wife, with the blessing of myself and my countess.' + +Sir Geraint clasped the hand of the young maiden, and said: + +'My lord, I thank thee, and if my lord King Arthur shall give this +maiden unto me for wife, then will I love her and cherish her all the +days of my life, if she in her heart would choose me for her husband.' + +'My lord,' said the maiden, raising her frank eyes and flushing face to +him, 'I have never known a knight to whom I gave so great goodwill as I +find in my heart for thee. And if thy lord Arthur shall give me unto +thee, I will plight thee my love and loving service till I die.' + +Thereupon they proceeded on their way to the court of King Arthur, and +what had seemed a long journey to Geraint when he had followed Sir +Edern, now seemed too short, for he and the maid Enid passed it in much +pleasant converse. + +Towards evening they arrived at Caerleon-upon-Usk, and Queen Gwenevere +received Sir Geraint with great welcome, calling him 'her glorious +knight and champion,' and telling him that Sir Edern had yielded +himself into her hands to do such atonement as seemed fitting, when he +should have recovered from his wounds. + +At the beauty of the maid Enid all the court marvelled; and the queen +hastened to clothe her in robes of satin, rich and rare, with gold upon +her hair and about her throat. And when she was so dressed, all were +glad that one of so sweet a dignity and rare a beauty had come among +them. + +King Arthur gave her to Sir Geraint with many rich gifts, and Enid and +Geraint were married in the abbey church, and the court gave itself up +to feasting and sport, and acclaimed her one of the three most lovely +ladies in all the isle of Britain. + +When a year had passed in great happiness, ambassadors came from King +Erbin of Cornwall, with a request to King Arthur that he should let Sir +Geraint go home to his father. + +'For,' said the messengers, 'King Erbin waxes old and feeble, and the +more he ageth the more insolent and daring are the barons and lords on +his marches, trying to wrest parts of his lands to add to their own. +Therefore,' said they, 'the king begs you to let his son Sir Geraint +return home, so that, knowing the fame of the strength of his arm and +his prowess, the turbulent lords would desist, and if they would not, +Sir Geraint would hurl them from his boundaries.' + +King Arthur, though very reluctant to let so great an ornament of his +court depart, let him go, and Geraint and Enid went with a great party +of the best knights of the Round Table, and rode to the Severn Shore, +and there took ship to the shores of Cornwall. + +When they reached there, all the people came from their villages +welcoming Sir Geraint and his lovely bride, for the fame of his +prowess, and the way in which he had won his wife, had spread over all +the land. And King Erbin welcomed his son and was glad of his coming, +and the next day all the chief subjects, the lords and barons holding +land or offices, and the chief tenants of common degree, came into the +hall, and, kneeling before Sir Geraint, did honour to him and swore +fealty. + +Then, with a great company of his chief warriors, Sir Geraint visited +all the bounds of his territory. Experienced guides went with him, and +old men learned in the marks of the boundaries, and priests, and they +renewed the mere-marks that were broken down, and replaced those which +had been wrongfully moved. + +Thereafter men lived peacefully in the land, and on all the borders, +for under the shadow of the strong young chief no border lords dared to +invade the land, and no fierce baron used oppression. + +Then, as had been his wont at the court of Arthur, Sir Geraint went to +all tournaments that were held within easy reach of his kingdom. Thus +he became acquainted with every mighty knight of his hands throughout +the lands of Cornwall, Wales and Logres; and so great in strength and +prowess did he become that men hailed him as one of the Three Great +Heroes of the Isle of Britain; the other two being Sir Lancelot du Lake +and Sir Tristram of Lyones. And though there Were other great and +valiant warriors, as Sir Lamorake, Sir Bors, Sir Gawaine and his +brother, Sir Gareth, and Sir Palomides, yet all these had been overcome +by one or other of the three heroes. For as yet Sir Perceval was in the +forest with his widowed mother, and knew no arms but a stone or a +stick; and Sir Galahad was not yet born. And these two were knights +stainless of pride or any evil desire, and by that force alone did +strike down every arm, however mighty, that relied on knightly prowess +alone. + +When his fame had spread over all the kingdoms south of Trent, so that +no knight that knew him or saw the device of the golden falcon on his +shield would have to do with him, Sir Geraint began to seek ease and +pleasure, for there was no one who would joust with him. He began to +stay at home and never went beyond his wife's bower-chamber, but sat +and delighted in playing chess, or hearing the bards of the court sing +songs of glamour and wizardry, or tell him tales of ancient warriors +and lovers, long since dead. + +The whole court marvelled at his slothfulness as time passed and he +changed not. He gave up the friendship of his nobles, and went not +hunting or hawking; and found no pleasure but in the company of his +wife, whom he dearly loved. + +Men began to scoff and jeer at his name over their cups in hall, or as +they rode with hawk on fist to the hunting, or as they tilted in the +lists. And the lawless lords upon the marches of the land began to stir +and to dare, and when none came to punish them, their plunderings and +oppressions grew. + +Soon these things came to the ears of the old King Erbin, and great +heaviness was upon him. And he called the Lady Enid to him one day, and +with stern sorrow in his eyes spoke thus: + +'Fair woman, is it thou that hast turned my son's spirit into water? Is +it thy love that hath made his name a byword among those who should +love him because he is not as he once was--a man no one could meet in +arms and overcome? Is it thou that hath sunk him in slothfulness, so +that the wolfish lords and tyrant barons upon his marchlands begin to +creep out of their castleholds, and tear and maim his people and wrest +from them and him broad lands and fertile fields?' + +'Nay, lord, nay,' said Enid, and he knew from the tears in her brave +eyes that she spoke the truth. 'It is not I, by my confession unto +Heaven! I know not what hath come to my dear lord. But there is nothing +more hateful to me than his unknightly sloth! And I know not what I may +do. For it is not harder, lord, to know what men say of my dear +husband, than to have to tell him, and see the shame in the eyes of him +I love.' + +And Enid went away weeping sorely. + +The next morning, when Enid awoke from sleep, she sat up and looked at +Geraint sleeping. The sun was shining through the windows, and lay upon +her husband. And she gazed upon his marvellous beauty, and the great +muscles of his arms and breast, and tears filled her eyes as she leaned +over him. + +'Alas,' she said half aloud, 'am I the cause that this strength, this +noble and manly beauty have all lost the fame they once enjoyed? Am I +the cause that he hath sunk in sloth, and men scoff at his name and his +strength?' + +And the words were heard by Geraint, and he felt the scalding tears +fall upon his breast, and he lay appearing to be asleep, yet he was +awake. A great rage burned in him, so that for some moments he knew not +what to do or say. + +Then he opened his eyes as if he had heard and felt nothing, and in his +eyes was a hard gleam. He rose and swiftly dressed, and called his +squire. + +'Go,' he said to the man, 'prepare my destrier, and get old armour and +a shield with no device thereon, old and rusty. And say naught to +none.' + +'And do thou,' he said to his wife, 'rise and apparel thyself, and +cause thy horse to be prepared, and do thou wear the oldest riding-robe +thou hast. And thou wilt come with me.' + +So Enid arose and clothed herself in her meanest garments. + +Then Geraint went to his father and said, 'Sir, I am going upon a quest +into the land of Logres, and I do not know when I may return. Do thou +therefore keep our kingdom till I return.' + +'I will do so, my son,' said Erbin, 'but thou art not strong enough to +go through the land of Logres alone. Wilt thou not have a company with +thee?' + +'But one person shall go with me,' said Geraint, 'and that is a woman. +Farewell.' + +Then he put on the old and rusty suit of armour, and took the shield +with no device, and a sword and a lance, and then mounting his horse he +took his way out of the town. And Enid went before him on her palfrey, +marvelling what all this might mean. + +Geraint called unto her and said sternly: + +'Go thou and ride a long way before me. And whatever ye see or hear +concerning me, say naught, and turn not back. And unless I speak to +thee, speak not thou to me.' + +All day they rode thus, and deeper and deeper they sank into a desolate +land, where huge rocks jutted from the starved soil, and there was no +sound or sight of living thing, except it was the wolf looking from his +lair beneath a stone, or the breaking of a branch, as the brown bear on +a distant hillslope tore at a tree to get a honeycomb, and blinked down +at them, marvelling, maybe, to see a knight and a lady in his desolate +domain. + +When, late in the afternoon, their long shadows marched before them +down a broad green road which they had struck upon, Enid's heart +suddenly lifted to see the white walls and roofs of what looked like a +rich town; for she knew not what was in her lord's mind, and feared +lest his strange anger should push him to go on through the night, and +so become a prey to robbers or wild animals. But she marvelled that +there was no sight or sound of people; no carters or travellers going +to or coming from the city, and no smoke rose above the housetops. + +When they came nearer, she saw the wall of the gate was broken down, +and that along the broad road beyond the wall the grass waved high +across the street, and the little wooden booths and cabins beside the +road were rotting and decayed. Anon they rode into a broad market-place +or forum, where white buildings rose above them, the windows gaping, +grass growing on the roofs or in the crannies of the walls, and the +doorways choked with bushes. And out of the broad hallway of the +basilica she saw the grey form of a wolf walk and slink away in the +shadows. + +With a sinking heart she knew that this was one of the fair cities +which the Romans had built, and when they had left Britain this town +had been deserted and left desolate, to become a place where the wolf +and the bear made their lairs, where the beaver built his dam in the +stream beneath the wall of the palace, and where robbers and wild men +lay hid, or the small people of the hills came and made their magic and +weaved their spells, with the aid of the spirits haunting the desolate +hearths of the Romans. + +And as Enid checked her horse and waited for Geraint to come up, that +she might ask him whether it was his pleasure to pass the night there, +she saw, down the wide street before her, the forms of men, creeping +and gathering in the gloom. Then, fearing lest they should fall upon +her husband before he was aware of them, she turned her horse and rode +towards him and said: + +'Lord, dost thou see the wild men which gather in the shadows there in +the street before us, as if they would attack thee?' + +Geraint lifted up his angry eyes to hers: + +'Thou wert bid to keep silent,' he said, 'whatsoever thou hast seen or +heard. Why dost thou warn one whom thou dost despise?' + +Even as he spoke, from the broken houses through which they had crept +to assail the single knight, dashed ten robbers, naked of feet, evil of +look, clothed in skins. One leaped at the knight with a knife in his +hand, to be cut down, halfway in his spring, by Sir Geraint's fierce +sword-stroke. Then, while Enid stood apart, terror in her heart, prayer +on her lips, she saw him as if he were in the midst of a pack of +tearing wolves, and in the silent street with its twilight was the +sudden clash of steel, the howls and cries of wounded men. + +Then she was aware that six lay quiet on the road, and the remaining +four broke suddenly away towards the shelter of the houses. But two of +these Sir Geraint pursued, and cut down before they could reach cover. + +He rejoined her in silence and sought for a place of lodging; and in a +small villa they found a room with but one door. Here they supped from +the scrip of food and the bottle of wine which Enid had brought, and +there they slept that night. + +On the morrow they pursued their way, and followed the green road out +of the ruined city until they reached the forest. And in the heat and +brightness of the high noon the green and coolness of the forestways +were sweet, and the sound of tiny streams hidden beneath the leaves was +refreshing. + +Then they came upon a plain where was a village surrounded by a bank of +earth, on which was a palisade. And there was a wailing and weeping +coming from between the little mud-cabins therein; and as they +approached they saw in the middle green four knights in armour and a +crowd of poor frightened folk about them. + +As they passed the gate of the village a poor man ran from the group, +and threw himself before Sir Geraint. + +'O sir knight,' he cried full piteously, 'if thou art a good knight and +a brave, do thou see justice done here. For these four lords would cut +my father's throat if he say not where his money is hid.' + +'Are they his proper lords?' asked Geraint. + +'Nay, sir knight,' said the man. 'Our land is Geraint's, and these +lords say that he sleeps all day, and so they will be our masters. And +they do ever oppress us with fine and tax and torture.' + +Therewith Sir Geraint rode through the gate of the village and +approached the group. He saw where the four knights stood cruelly +torturing a poor old man whom they had tied to a post, and the sweat +stood upon the peasant's white face, and the fear of death was in his +eyes. + +'Lords! lords,' he cried in a spent voice, 'I have no money, for you +did take all I had when you told us our lord Geraint was become a court +fool.' + +'Thou miser!' jeered one of the knights, 'that was two months agone, +and thou hast something more by now. Will this loose thy secret, +carrion?' + +At the cruel torture the man shrieked aloud, and by reason of the pain +his head sank and he slid down the post in a swoon. And a young woman +rushed forth, threw her arm about the hanging body, and with flashing +eyes turned and defied the knights. + +Next moment it would have gone ill with her, but the voice of Sir +Geraint rang out. + +'Ho, there, sir knights,' he cried, 'or sir wolves--I know not which ye +are--have ye naught to do but to squeeze poor peasants of mean +savings?' + +The knights turned in rage, and laughed and sneered when they saw but +one solitary knight in old and rusty armour. + +'Ah, sir scarecrow!' cried one, leaping on his horse, 'I will spit thee +for thy insolence.' + +'Knock him down and truss him up with this starveling peasant,' cried +another. + +All now had mounted, and the first prepared to run at Sir Geraint, who +backed his horse through the gateway into the open plain. Anon the +first knight came, hurling himself angrily upon him. But deftly Sir +Geraint struck the other's lance aside with his sword, and as the rider +rushed past him, he rose in his stirrups, his blade flashed, and then +sank in the neck of the felon knight, who swayed in his saddle and then +crashed to the ground. + +Then the second horseman attacked him furiously, being wroth at the +death of his companion. But Sir Geraint couched his lance, and caught +the other on the edge of his shield, and the spear passed through his +body. + +And by good hap also he slew the other two, one with his lance, the +other with his sword on foot. + +Enid, full of fear while the fight was raging, felt gladness and sorrow +when she saw how nobly her husband had smitten these torturers with +justice, and she said that of a truth she had been wrong, and that +there was no sloth in his heart, no weakness in the strong arm of her +lord. + +Then Sir Geraint took off the armour from each of the four knights and +piled them on their horses, and tied them together, and bade her drive +them before her. + +'And do thou go forward some way,' said he sternly, 'and say not one +word to me unless I speak first unto thee.' + +As he mounted his horse, the man that had been tortured came forward +with his people and knelt before him, and kissed the mail-clad shoe in +his stirrup, and in rude few words they thanked him tearfully, asking +for his name, so that they could speak of him in their prayers. + +'I am called Sir Slothful,' said Sir Geraint, 'and I deserve not your +worship. But, hark ye, if other evil lords come upon these marches and +seek to oppress thee, tell them that though Sir Geraint sleeps now, he +will soon awake and they shall not stand before his vengeance.' + +And so he rode on, leaving the poor folks marvelling but happy. + +Then in a little while they came upon a highroad, and the lady went on +first, and for all his anger, Geraint was sorry to see how much trouble +Enid had in driving the four horses before her, yet how patient she +was. + +Soon they beheld a wide valley below them, the fairest and richest in +homesteads and farms that they had yet seen. A river ran through the +middle of it, and the road on which they passed ran down to a bridge +over the river, beyond which was a castle and a walled town. + +Sir Geraint took the road towards the bridge, and soon a knight came +cantering towards them. + +'Fair sir,' said Sir Geraint, 'canst thou tell me who is the owner of +this fair valley and that walled city?' + +'Of a truth,' said the other, 'these are the lands of King Griffith, +whom men call the Little King. He holds them of King Erbin, whose son, +that was so famous, men say has become a worthless court dandy.' + +'I thank thee for thy words, fair sir,' said Geraint, and would pass +on. + +'I would counsel thee not to attempt to cross the bridge,' said the +knight, 'unless thou dost intend to fight the little king. For armed +strangers he will not suffer to pass, and I doubt me if thy arms are of +much use to thee.' + +And the knight smiled at the rusty arms and shield of Sir Geraint. + +'Nevertheless,' said Sir Geraint, 'though my arms are old, I will go +this way.' + +'If thou dost so,' said the knight, 'thou wilt meet with shame and +defeat. For the little king is a man of giant strength.' + +But Sir Geraint passed down towards the bridge and crossed it, and went +along the road beyond towards the town. Presently Sir Geraint heard the +sound of hoofs behind him, and looking round he saw a knight following +him upon a great black horse, tall and stately and stepping proudly. +The knight was the smallest that Sir Geraint had ever seen. + +When the stranger had come up to him, he said: + +'Tell me, fair sir, is it by presumption or by ignorance that thou +comest armed along this road?' + +'I knew not that in any of the lands of King Erbin, a peaceful man, +though he be armed, could not go without hindrance,' replied Sir +Geraint. + +'That was so,' replied the knight, 'when King Erbin's son Sir Geraint +was a man of prowess, not a soft fool. Then his name alone kept his +borders clean of robber lords and bandit knights; but now that he is +less than naught, I myself must keep my land clean of thieves in rusty +armour that would frighten and oppress poor folk.' + +'Nevertheless,' said Sir Geraint, 'I will travel by this road, and ye +hinder me at your peril.' + +'Have at thee, then,' said the little knight, and together they spurred +towards each other. + +Sir Geraint marvelled to feel how powerful were the lance-strokes of +the little man, while, as for himself, so high was the little knight's +horse and so small was the rider, that he was hardly able to get a good +blow at him. But they jousted until at the third bout the little king's +lance broke short, and then they dismounted, and lashed at each other +with their swords. + +At first Sir Geraint thought it was nigh unseemly that one so strong +and tall as himself should have to do with so small a knight; but if he +thought that he had advantage in his longer reach and greater strength +he quickly saw his error. + +For the little king was a man of marvellous strength and agility, and +for all Sir Geraint's knowledge and strength, the other's strokes were +so boldly fierce, so quick and powerful, that it was not long ere Sir +Geraint found he had need of great wariness. + +Soon their helmets were cracked and their shields dented and carved and +their hauberks in rags, and hardly could they see between the bars of +their vizors for the sweat and blood in their eyes. + +Then at last Sir Geraint, enraged that one so small should give him so +much trouble to conquer, gathered all his strength in one blow, so that +the little king was beaten to his knees, and the sword flew from his +hand ten yards away. + +'I yield me!' cried King Griffith, 'and never have I fought with so +valiant and strong a knight. Have mercy and spare me, and I will be thy +man.' + +'Be it so!' said Sir Geraint, 'but thou hast already sworn to be my +man.' + +And he lifted up his vizor and showed his face, whereat the little king +did off his own helm quickly and came and kneeled humbly before him. + +'Sir Geraint,' he said, 'forgive me my words concerning thee, but men +told me that ye had forgotten that you had once been so glorious a man, +and were softening to a fool.' + +'Nay,' said Sir Geraint, 'they were the fools that said so. And now I +will depart, for I see these marches are in safe keeping in your hands, +fair king.' + +But the little king wished Geraint to come to his castle to be rested +and healed of his wounds, and Geraint and Enid went and abode there a +few days. But ever Sir Geraint was cold and stern to his wife, for he +was still angry at her disbelief in him. + +Sir Geraint would not stay longer, though his wounds were but half +healed, and on the third day he commanded Enid to mount her horse and +to go before him with the four other horses. + +While the sun climbed up the sky they rode through the wilderness, by +tangled woods, deep valleys and quaking marshes, until they reached a +deep dark forest. Suddenly as they rode they heard a great wailing of +distress, and bidding Enid stay, Geraint dashed through the trees +towards the crying, and came out upon a great bare upland, and beside +the wood were a knight, dead in his armour, and two horses, one with a +woman's saddle upon it. + +And looking further Geraint saw three small dark shaggy trolls making +swift way up the hill towards a great green mound, and in the arms of +one of them was a damsel, who shrieked as she was borne away. + +Fiercely Sir Geraint spurred his horse up the slope, bidding the trolls +to stop, but they only ran with an exceeding great swiftness. But he +pursued them, and when they were within a few steps of a small door in +the hillside, the one dropped the maiden, and the three of them turned +at bay. And the damsel ran shrieking away down the hill. + +The trolls had dark thin faces, with curly black hair and fierce black +eyes, and their rage was horrible to see. They were lightly clothed in +skins, and in their arms they held, one a bar of iron, another a great +club, and the third a long sharp stick. + +Sir Geraint commended his soul to Heaven, for he knew he was to battle +with evil dwarfs who lived in the hollow hills, and whose strength was +greater than any man's, and whose powers of wizardry were stronger than +Merlin's. + +He dashed with his lance at the one with the iron bar, but the +hill-troll slipped away, and brought the great bar with a heavy blow +upon his lance, so that it snapped in twain. Then one leaped like a +wild cat upon the arm that held the rein, but happily Sir Geraint had +drawn his sword, and with one stroke slew him. Then the two others +leaped towards him, but the blows of the bar and club he caught upon +his shield and slew the troll with the club. + +Ere Sir Geraint could draw his sword back from this blow, he felt his +horse fall under him, for the dwarf with the iron bar had with one blow +broken the beast's back. Quickly avoiding the horse, Sir Geraint dashed +at the dwarf, who ran towards the hole in the hill, but ere he could +reach it Sir Geraint gave him a blow on the crown of his head, so +fierce and hard, that the skull was split to the shoulders. + +So then Sir Geraint turned and walked slowly down the hill, for he was +dazed, and his old wounds had broken afresh. But he came to where Enid +stood comforting the damsel mourning over the dead knight, and when he +was there, straightway he fell down lifeless. + +Enid shrieked with the anguish of the thought that he was dead, and +came and knelt beside him and undid his helm and kissed him many times. +And the sound of her wailing reached an earl named Madoc, who was +passing with a company along the road from a plundering expedition, and +he came and took up Geraint and the dead knight, and laid them in the +hollow of their shields, and with the damsels took them to his castle a +mile along the road. + +Now the earl was a tyrant and a robber, and had done much evil on the +borderlands of Geraint, in burning, plundering and slaying, since he +had heard that Geraint was become soft and foolish. And he had +recognised Sir Geraint while he lay in the swoon, and rejoiced that now +he was like to die. + +As he rode along he thought that if he could prevail upon the Lady Enid +to wed him, he might get much land with her, as the widow of the dead +Sir Geraint, future King of Cornwall. And he determined to make her +marry him. + +When, therefore, he and his host had reached his castle, he ordered the +dead knight to be buried, but Sir Geraint he commanded to be laid in +his shield on a litter-couch in front of the high table in the hall. So +that Sir Geraint should die, he commanded that no leech should be sent +for. + +While his knights and men-at-arms sat down to dine, Earl Madoc came to +Enid and begged her to make good cheer. But, thinking to gain more from +secrecy, he did not tell her that he knew who she was, nor did he show +her that he knew who was her lord. + +'Take off thy travelling clothes, fair lady,' he said, 'and weep not +for this dead knight.' + +'I will not,' she said, and hung over Geraint, chafing his hands and +looking earnestly into his pallid face. + +'Ah, lady,' the earl said, 'be not so sorrowful. For he is now dead, +and therefore ye need no longer mourn. But as ye are beautiful, I would +wed thee, and thou shalt have this earldom and myself and much wealth +and all these men to serve thee.' + +'I tell you I will rather die with my dead lord, if indeed he be dead,' +cried Enid, 'than live in wealth with you or any one.' + +'Come, then,' said the earl, 'and at least take food with me.' + +'Nay, I will not,' said Enid, 'and never more will I eat or be joyful +in life.' + +'But, by Heaven, thou shalt,' said Madoc, furious at her resistance to +his will. + +And he drew her from beside the litter, and forced her to come to the +table where his knights sat eating, and commanded her to eat. + +'I will not eat,' she cried, straining from his hold towards where +Geraint lay, 'unless my dear lord shall eat also.' + +'But he is dead already, thou mad woman,' cried the earl. 'Drink this +goblet of wine,' he commanded, 'and thou wilt change thy mind.' + +'I will not drink again until my dear lord drink also,' said Enid, and +strove to free herself from the grasp of the earl. + +'Now, by Heaven!' said Madoc wrathfully, 'I have tried gentle means +with thee. Let this teach thee that I am not to be baulked of my will.' + +With that he gave her a violent blow on the ear, and tried to drag her +away out of the hall. And Enid shrieked and wept and cried for help, +but none of the knights that sat there dared to oppose their lord. + +But suddenly men started up from their seats in terror to see the +corpse of Geraint rise from the hollow of the shield. Enid's cries had +roused him from his swoon, and his hand as he raised himself felt the +hilt of the sword beside him. + +He leaped from the litter, and, drawing his sword, he ran towards the +earl, who by now had almost dragged Enid to the door. Raising the +sword, Geraint struck him with so fierce a blow that he cleft his head +in twain. + +Then, for terror at seeing what they thought was a dead man rise up to +slay them, the knights ran from the hall and left Geraint and Enid +alone. + +Enid threw her arms about Geraint, her face bright with happiness. + +'My dear lord, I thank God thou art not dead, as this man said thou +wert. And I pray thy forgiveness for doubting that thou hadst forgotten +thy manhood, for of a truth none is so brave, so good as thou art.' + +Geraint kissed his wife, smiling wanly the while. + +'Sorry I am, my dear wife,' he said, 'that I was swooning when thou +hadst need of me. And as for any doubts thou hadst of me, why, let us +both forget them from this time forth. And now we must away, ere this +lord's men recover their fright and pursue us.' + +Enid led him instantly to the stalls where she had seen the horses had +been led, and Geraint took the spear and the horse of the knight whom +the trolls had slain, and, when he had mounted, he took up Enid from +the ground and placed her before him. + +Thus they rode out of the castle, and away as rapidly as they could. +And now that they were reconciled, much joyful and loving talk was +between them. + +But night was coming on, and Geraint was weak from his wounds and loss +of blood, and Enid was full of trouble for the pain her husband +suffered. She prayed fervently that soon they might reach a town where +she could obtain help for him. + +Suddenly she heard far away in the distance the tramp of horses, and +Enid could have wept for sorrow. But she kept her face calm, though her +lips trembled, Geraint also heard the beat of the hoofs, and turning in +his saddle he looked up, and saw on the skyline of the narrow road the +glint of spears between them and the sky. + +'Dear wife,' he said, with a faint brave smile, 'I hear some one +following us. I will put thee in hiding behind this thicket, and should +they slay me, do thou make thy way homeward to my father Erbin, and bid +him avenge my death.' + +'O my dear Geraint!' said Enid, sobbing, for all her bravery, as she +thought that he would surely be slain, and that, after all their +trouble, they were not to be allowed to enjoy the happiness of their +reconciliation. 'I would liefer die with thee, my dear, dear lord. Let +them kill us both, if it is to be.' + +'Nay, dear wife,' said Geraint, 'I would not have thee slain. Revenge +my death if they slay me.' + +So, with many lingering kisses, he set her down upon the road, and saw +her hide in the thickets. + +By now the gloom of evening had settled upon them, and the sound of +trampling horses had rapidly approached. And painfully, by reason of +his stiff wounds, Geraint dressed his armour as best he could, and laid +spear in rest, and drew his shield before him, and so waited in the +dark road. + +He heard a single knight riding before the others, and soon saw his +figure issue from the gloom with couched lance. And Sir Geraint made +him ready also, resolved to sell his life dearly at the last. + +But as they began to spur their horses, there came the voice of Enid +from the hedgerow beside them. And she cried out piteously in the dark: + +'O chieftain, whoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a +dead man?' + +The stranger stopped his horse, and called out: + +'O Heaven, is it my lord, Sir Geraint?' + +'Yes, in truth,' said Enid, 'and who art thou?' + +'I am the little king!' said the other, and rode swiftly towards Sir +Geraint. Then he leaped from his horse and came to the stirrup of his +chief. + +'My lord,' he said, 'I learned that thou wert in trouble, and came to +see if I could aid thee.' + +And Enid ran forward with joy at hearing this, and welcomed the little +king, and told him in what a hard pass was Sir Geraint. + +'My lord and my lady,' said Griffith, 'I thank Heaven sincerely for the +favour that I come to you in your need. I learned of thy fight with the +trolls and of thy slaying of Earl Madoc, and that thou wert wounded. +Therefore I rode on to find thee.' + +'I thank thee heartily,' said Sir Geraint, 'and my dear wife also +thanks thee. For of a truth I am spent, and must needs get me rest and +a leech for my wounds.' + +'Then come at once with me,' said the little king, and after he had +helped Enid to her place before Geraint, he leaped on his own horse. + +'Now thou shalt go to the hall of a son-in-law of my sister which is +near here,' said King Griffith, 'and thou shalt have the best medical +advice in the kingdom.' + +At the hall of the baron, whose name was Tewder, and a most knightly +and gentle lord, Sir Geraint and the Lady Enid were received with great +welcome and hospitality. Physicians were sent for, and they attended +Geraint day by day until he was quite well again. + +The fame of his adventures began to spread along the borders of his +kingdom, and at length reached his own court. And the robber lords and +brigands of the marches, hearing of his deeds, ceased their evil-doing +and made haste to hide from his wrath. Also his father Erbin and the +host at his court repented of their hard thoughts and sneers concerning +him, and praised the strength of his arm, the gentleness of his +courtesy, and his justice and mercy. + +When Sir Geraint and the Lady Enid returned home, all the people +gathered to welcome them. And thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and +his warlike fame and splendour lasted with renown and honour and love, +both to him and to the Lady Enid, from that time forth. + + + + +VII + +HOW SIR PERCEVAL WAS TAUGHT CHIVALRY, AND ENDED THE EVIL WROUGHT BY SIR +BALIN'S DOLOROUS STROKE + + +It befell upon a time when King Arthur was Pendragon, or overlord of +the island of Britain, that Earl Evroc held an earldom of large +dominion in the north under King Uriens. And the earl had seven sons, +the last being but a child still at play about his mother's chair as +she sat with her maidens in the bower. + +Lord Evroc was a valiant and a mighty warrior, ever battling against +the hated pagans, when their bands of blue-eyed fierce fighters landed +on his coasts. And when peace was on the land, he went about on +errantry, jousting in tournaments and fighting champions. + +His six elder sons did likewise, and all were famed for their knightly +prowess. + +But the mother sat at home, sad of mood. For she hated war, and would +rather have had her lord and her six tall sons about her in the home. +And in her heart she resolved that she would plead with Evroc to let +her have her little son Perceval to be a clerk or a learned bard, so +that he should stay at home with her and run no risk of death. + +The sorrow she was ever dreading smote her at length. For a messenger +came one day, saying that Earl Evroc her lord had been slain at +Bamborough, in a mighty melee between some of the best and most valiant +knights of Logres and Alban, and two tall sons with him. + +As the years passed, and her little son began to run, three black days +came within a little of each other, for on these days messengers came +with the sad news of the death of her other boys. One of them had been +done to death by an evil troll on the lonely wastes by the Roman wall, +two others were slain by the shores of Humber, repelling a horde of +fair-haired Saxon raiders, and the other was killed at a ford, where he +had kept at bay six bandit knights that would have pursued and slain +his wounded lord. + +Then, in her grief, the widow dame resolved that she would fly with her +little son, and make a home for him in some wilderness, where never +sounds or sights of war or death would come, where knights would be +unknown, and no one would speak to him of arms and battles. And thus +did she do, and she left the hall where she had lived, and removed to +the deserts and wastes of the wilderness, and took with her only her +women, and a few boys and spiritless men, too old or feeble to fight, +or to think of fighting. + +Thus she reared the only son left to her, teaching him all manner of +nobleness in thought and action and in learning, but never suffering +him to see a weapon, nor to hear a tale of war or knightly prowess. + +He grew up loving all noble things, gentle of speech and bearing, but +quick to anger at evil or mean actions, merciful of weak things, and +full of pity and tenderness. + +Yet was he also very strong of body, fleet of foot, quick of eye and +hand. Daily he went to divert himself in the great dark forest that +climbed the high mountains beside his home, or he roamed the wide +rolling moors. And he practised much with the throwing of stones and +sticks, so that with a stick he could hit a small mark at a great +distance, and with a sharp stone he could cut down a sapling at one +blow. + +One day he saw a flock of his mother's goats in the forest, and near +them stood two hinds. The boy wondered greatly to see the two deer +which had no horns, while the goats had two each; and he thought they +had long run wild, and had lost their horns in that way. He thought he +would please his mother if he caught them, so that they should not +escape again. And by his great activity and swiftness he ran the two +deer down till they were spent, and then he took them and shut them up +in the goat-house in the forest. + +Going home, he told his mother and her servants what he had done, and +they went to see, and marvelled that he could catch such fleet +creatures as the wild red deer. + +Once he overheard his mother say that she yearned for fresh venison, +but that the hunter who was attached to her house was lying wounded by +a wild boar. Always Perceval had wondered what the little dark man did +whom they called the hunter, who was always so secret, so that Perceval +could never see where he went or when he returned from the forest. + +So he went to the hut where Tod the hunter lay sick, and charged him by +the love and worship he bore to the countess, that he should tell him +how he could obtain fresh venison. And the dwarf told him. + +Then Perceval took a few sticks of stout wood, with points hardened by +fire, and went into the forest as Tod had told him, and seeing a deer +he hurled a stick at it and slew it. And then he brought it home. + +The countess was greatly wroth that Tod had taught him how to slay, and +she said that never more should the dwarf serve her. And Tod wept, but +when he was well again the countess would not suffer him to stay, but +said he should leave the hall and never come there again. + +She commanded Perceval never to slay any more living things, and the +lad promised. But hard was it to keep his word, when he was in the +forest and saw the wild things passing through the brakes. + +Once, as he strayed deep in the wood, he came upon a wide glade or +laund, with two green hillocks in the middle thereof. And feeding upon +the grass was a great buck, and it had a silver ring round its neck. +Perceval wondered at this beast being thus adorned, and went up to it +to stroke it. + +But the buck was fierce, and would have gored him with its horns, but +Perceval seized them, and after a great struggle he threw the animal, +and held it down, and in his wrath he would have slain it with a sharp +stick. With that a swarm of little angry trolls poured from the hollow +hillocks with great cries, and seizing Perceval would have hurt him. + +But suddenly Tod ran among them, and commanded them to release him. And +in the end Tod, who came himself of the troll folk, made the little +people pass the words of peace and friendship with Perceval, and ever +after that the boy went with the trolls, and sported with them in +wrestling, running and other games; and he learned many things of great +wisdom from them concerning the secrets of the earth and air and the +wind, and the spirits that haunt waste places and standing stones, and +how to put to naught the power of witches and wizards. + +Tod ever bade them treat the young lord with reverence. 'For this is he +who shall do great deeds,' he said. 'He shall be a stainless knight, +who shall gain from evil the greatest strength, and, if God wills, he +shall beat down the evil powers in this land.' + +But the lad knew not what he meant, though he was very content to have +the trolls for his friends. + +One day Perceval was in the forest far up the mountain, and he looked +over the blue distance far below across the moor, and saw a man riding +on a wide road which he had never noticed before. And the man rode very +fast, and as he went the sun seemed to flash from him as if he was +clothed in glass. Perceval wondered what he was, and resolved to go +across the moor to the road he had seen. + +When he reached the road he found it was very broad, and banked on +either side, and went straight as the flight of a wild duck right +across the moor, and never swerved by the hills or pools, but went over +everything in its way. And as he stood marvelling what mighty men had +builded it, he heard a strange rattling sound behind him, and, turning, +he saw three men on horseback, and the sun shone from them as he had +seen it shine from the first horseman. + +The foremost checked his horse beside Perceval, and said: + +'Tell me, good soul, sawest thou a knight pass this way either this day +or yesterday?' + +'I know not what a knight is,' answered Perceval. + +'Such a one as I,' said the horseman, smiling good-naturedly, for it +was Sir Owen, one of King Arthur's knights. + +'If ye will tell me what I ask, I will tell you,' said Perceval. + +[Illustration: YOUNG PERCEVAL QUESTIONS SIR OWEN] + + +'I will answer gladly,' said Sir Owen, smiling, yet wondering at the +fearless and noble air of this youth in so wild a waste. + +'What is this?' asked Perceval, and pulled the skirt of the hauberk. + +'It is a dress made of rings of steel,' answered Sir Owen, 'which I put +on to turn the swords of those I fight.' + +'And what is it to fight?' + +'What strange youth art thou?' asked Sir Owen. 'To fight is to do +battle with spears or swords, so that you would slay the man that would +slay you.' + +'Ah, as I would have slain the buck that would have gored me,' said +Perceval, nodding his head. + +Many other questions the youth asked eagerly, as to the arms they bore +and the accoutrements and their uses. And at length he said: + +'Sirs, I thank you for your courtesy. Go forward swiftly, for I saw +such a one as ye go by here but two hours ago, and he flashed in the +sun as he rode swiftly. And now I will be as one of you.' + +Perceval went swiftly back to his mother's house and found her among +her women. + +'Mother,' he said, 'I have seen a great and wonderful sight on the +great road across the moor.' + +'Ah, my dear son, what was that?' she asked. + +'They were three honourable knights,' he said. 'And, mother, I will be +a knight also.' + +With a great shriek his mother swooned away, and the women turned him +from the room and said he had slain his mother. + +Much grieved was Perceval that he had hurt his mother, and so, taking +his store of pointed sticks, he went off into the forest, and strayed +there a long time, torn between his love for his mother, and the +strange restlessness which the sight of the three warriors had caused +in him. + +As he wandered, troubled, his quick ear caught the clang of metal, +though he knew not what it was. And swiftly he ran towards the sound a +long way, until he came into a clearing, and found two knights on +horseback doing mighty battle. One bore a red shield and the other a +green one. + +He looked eagerly at this strange sight, and the blood sang in his +veins. And then he saw that the green knight was of slighter frame than +the other, and was weakening before the strokes of the red knight. + +Full of anger at the sight, Perceval launched one of his hard-wood +javelins at the red knight. With such force did it go, and so true was +the aim, that it pierced the coif of the knight, and entered between +the neck and the head, and the red knight swayed and then clattered to +the ground, dead. + +The green knight came and thanked Perceval for thus saving his life. + +'Are knights then so easy to slay?' asked the lad. 'Methought that none +might pierce through the hauberk of a knight, and I sorrow that I have +slain him, not thinking what I did.' + +'He was a full evil knight,' said the other, 'and deserved death richly +for his many villainies and oppressions of weak orphans and friendless +widows.' + +The knight took the body of the dead knight to be buried in a chapel, +and told Perceval he could have the horse. But the lad would not have +it, though he longed greatly to possess it, and the green knight took +it with him. + +Then Perceval went home, sad, yet wild with wonder at what he had done. +He found his mother well again, but very sorrowful. And for fear of +giving her pain, he did not tell her of the knight he had slain. + +She called him to her, and said: + +'Dear son of mine, it seems I may not keep thy fate from thee. The +blood of thy warlike generations before thee may not be quenched, +whatever fond and foolish plans I made to keep thee from knowledge of +battle and weapons. Dear son, dost thou desire to ride forth into the +world?' + +'Yes, mother, of a truth,' said Perceval. 'I shall not be happy more +until I go.' + +'Go forward, then,' she said weeping, 'and God be with thee, my dear +son. And as I have no man who is strong of his hands, thou must go +alone, yet will I give thee gold for thy proper garnishing and lodging. +But make all the haste ye may to the court of King Arthur at +Caerleon-upon-Usk, for there are the best and the boldest and the most +worshipful of knights. And the king will give thee knighthood. And +wherever thou seest a church, go kneel and repeat thy prayers therein; +and if thou hearest an outcry, go quickly and defend the weak, the poor +and the unprotected. And be ever tender towards women, my son, and +remember that thy mother loves thee and prays for thy stay in health +and life. And come thou to see me within a little while.' + +And he thanked her, saying he would do naught that should shame her, +but would remember all the nobleness of her teaching; also, that he +would return to see her within a little while. + +Perceval went to the stable and took a bony, piebald horse, which +seemed the strongest, and he pressed a pallet of straw into the +semblance of a saddle, and with pieces of leather and wood he imitated +the trappings he had seen on the horses of the knights. + +Then, after taking leave of his mother, he rode forth, sad at first for +leaving her in sorrow and tears, but afterwards glad that now he was +going into the world to become a knight. And for armour he had a rough +jerkin, old and moth-eaten, and for arms he had a handful of +sharp-pointed sticks of hard wood. + +He journeyed southwards two days and two nights along the great +straight road, which went through the deep dark forests, over desert +places and over the high mountains. And all that time he ate nothing +but wild berries, for he had not thought to bring food with him. + +While he was yet but a little way from the court of King Arthur, a +stranger knight, tall and big, in black armour, had ridden into the +hall where sat Gwenevere the queen, with a few of the younger knights +and her women. The page of the chamber was serving the queen with wine +in a golden goblet richly wrought, which Lancelot had taken from a +knight whom he had lately slain. + +The stranger knight had alighted before the chair of Gwenevere, and all +had seen that full of rage and pride was his look. And he caught sight +of the goblet in the hand of Gwenevere, and he snatched it from her, +spilling the wine over her dress and dashing it even into her face. + +'Now am I well lighted here,' he said, 'for this is the very goblet +which thy robber knight Sir Lancelot reaved from my brother, Sir +Wilder. And if any of you knights here desire to wrest this goblet from +me, or to avenge the insult I have done your queen, let him come to the +meadow beside the ford, and I will slay him, ay, if it be that traitor +Sir Lancelot himself.' + +All the young knights hung their heads as he mounted his horse and +insolently rode out of the hall; for it seemed to them that no one +would have done so daring an outrage unless, like Sir Garlon whom Balin +slew, he fought with evil magic, so that the strength and prowess of +the mightiest knight would be put to naught. + +Then Perceval entered the hall, and at sight of him upon his rough +piebald horse, with its uncouth trappings, and the old and mouldy +jerkin upon the youth, the knights and others broke forth in excessive +laughter, as much at the sight as to cover their discomfiture and fear +of the knight who had just gone. + +But Perceval took no note of their laughter, but rode up the hall to +where Sir Kay the seneschal stood, wrathful at the outrage on the queen +which he had not dared to avenge instantly. And Perceval looked about +and saw a knight more richly dressed than the others, and, turning to +Kay, he said: + +'Tell me, tall man, is that King Arthur yonder?' + +'What wouldst thou with Arthur, knave?' asked Kay angrily. + +'My mother told me to seek King Arthur,' responded Perceval,' and he +will give me the honour of knighthood.' + +'By my faith, thou farmer's churl,' said Kay, 'thou art richly equipped +indeed with horse and arms to have that honour.' + +Thereupon the others shouted with laughter, and commenced to throw +sticks at Perceval, or the bones left by the dogs upon the floor. + +Then a dwarf pressed forward between the laughing crowd and saluted +Perceval. And the lad rejoiced to recognise him. It was Tod, who had +been his friend among the trolls of the mountains, and with Tod was his +wife. They had come to the court of Arthur, and had craved harbourage +there, and the king of his kindness had granted it them. But by reason +of the prophecy which the trolls knew of concerning the great renown +which Perceval was to gain, they had been dumb of speech since they had +last seen the young man. + +And now at sight of him their tongues were loosed, and they ran and +kissed his feet, and cried together: + +'The welcome of Heaven be unto thee, goodly Perceval, son of Earl +Evroc! Chief of warriors art thou, and stainless flower of knighthood!' + +'Truly,' said Kay wrathfully, 'thou art an ill-conditioned pair, to +remain a year mute at King Arthur's court, and now before the face of +goodly knights to acclaim this churl with the mouldy coat, chief of +warriors and flower of knighthood!' + +In his rage he beat Tod the dwarf such a blow, that the poor troll fell +senseless to the ground; and the troll-wife he kicked, so that she was +dashed among the dogs, who bit her. + +'Tall man,' said Perceval, and men marvelled to see the high look on +his face and the cold scorn in his eyes, 'I will have vengeance on thee +for the insult and ill-treatment thou hast done these two poor dwarfs. +But tell me now which of these knights is Arthur?' + +'Away with thee,' shouted Kay, enraged. 'If thou wouldst see Arthur, go +to the knight with the goblet who waits for thee at the ford, and take +the goblet from him, and slay him. Then when thou comest back clad in +his armour, we will speak further with thee.' + +'I will do so, angry man,' said Perceval, and amid the shouts of +laughter and the sneers of the crowd he turned his horse's head and +rode out of the hall. + +Going to the meadow beside the ford, he saw a knight riding up and +down, proud of his strength and valour. + +'Tell me, fellow,' said the knight, who bore on his shield the device +of a black tower on a red field, 'didst thou see any one coming after +me from the court yonder?' + +'The tall man that was there,' said Perceval, 'bade me to come to thee, +and I am to overthrow thee and to take from thee the goblet, and as for +thy horse and thy arms I am to have them myself.' + +'Silence, prating fool!' shouted the knight, 'go back to the court and +tell Arthur to come himself, or to send a champion to fight me, or I +will not wait, and great will be his shame.' + +'By my faith,' said Perceval, 'whether thou art willing or unwilling, +it is I that will have thy horse and arms and the goblet.' + +And he prepared to throw his javelin-sticks. + +In a proud rage the knight ran at him with uplifted lance, and struck +him a violent blow with the shaft between the neck and the shoulder. + +'Haha! lad,' said Perceval, and laughed, 'that was as shrewd a blow as +any the trolls gave me when they taught me their staff play; but now I +will play with thee in my own way.' + +Thereupon he threw one of the pointed sticks at the knight, with such +force and with such sureness of aim that it went in between the bars of +his vizor and pierced the eye, and entered into the brain of the +knight. Whereupon he fell from his horse lifeless. + +And it befell that a little while after Perceval had left the court, +Sir Owen came in, and was told of the shameful wrong put upon the queen +by the unknown knight, and how Sir Kay had sent a mad boy after the +knight to slay him. + +'Now, by my troth,' said Owen to Kay, 'thou wert a fool to send that +foolish lad after the strong knight. For either he will be overthrown, +and the knight will think he is truly the champion sent on behalf of +the queen, whom the knight so evilly treated, and so an eternal +disgrace will light on Arthur and all of us; or, if he is slain, the +disgrace will be the same, and the mad young man's life will be thrown +away.' + +Thereupon Sir Owen made all haste, and rode swiftly to the meadow, +armed; but when he reached the place, he found a youth in a mouldy old +jerkin pulling a knight in rich armour up and down the grass. + +'By'r Lady's name!' cried Sir Owen, 'what do you there, tall youth?' + +'This iron coat,' said Perceval, stopping as he spoke, 'will never come +off him.' + +Owen alighted marvelling, and went to the knight and found that he was +dead, and saw the manner of his death, and marvelled the more. He +unloosed the knight's armour and gave it to Perceval. + +'Here, good soul,' he said, 'are horse and armour for thee. And well +hast thou merited them, since thou unarmed hast slain so powerful a +knight as this.' + +He helped Perceval put on his armour, and when he was fully dressed +Owen marvelled to see how nobly he bore himself. + +'Now come you with me,' he said, 'and we will go to King Arthur, and +you shall have the honour of knighthood from the good king himself.' + +'Nay, that will I not,' said Perceval, and mounted the dead knight's +horse. 'But take thou this goblet to the queen, and tell the king that +wherever I be, I will be his man, to slay all oppressors, to succour +the weak and the wronged, and to aid him in whatever knightly +enterprise he may desire my aid. But I will not enter his court until I +have encountered the tall man there who sent me hither, to revenge upon +him the wrong he did to my friends, Tod the dwarf and his wife.' + +And with this Perceval said farewell and rode off. Sir Owen went back +to the court, and told Arthur and the queen all these things. Men +marvelled who the strange young man could be, and many sought Tod and +his wife to question them, but nowhere could they be found. + +Greater still was their marvelling when, as the weeks passed, knights +came and yielded themselves to King Arthur, saying that Perceval had +overcome them in knightly combat, and had given them their lives on +condition that they went to King Arthur's court and yielded themselves +up to him and his mercy. The king and all his court reproved Kay for +his churlish manner, and for his having driven so splendid a youth from +the court. + +And Perceval rode ever forward. He came one day towards the gloaming to +a lonely wood in the fenlands, where the wind shivered like the breath +of ghosts among the leaves, and there was not a track or trace of man +or beast, and no birds piped. And soon, as the wind shrilled, and the +rain began to beat down like thin grey spears, he saw a vast castle +rise before him, and when he made his way towards the gate, he found +the way so overgrown with weeds that hardly could he push his horse +between them. And on the very threshold the grass grew thick and high, +as if the door had not been opened for a hundred winters. + +He battered on the door with the butt of his lance; and long he waited, +while the cold rain drove and the wind snarled. + +After a little while a voice came from above the gateway, and glancing +up he saw a damsel looking through an opening in the battlements. + +'Choose thou, chieftain,' said she, 'whether I shall open unto thee +without announcing thee, or whether I shall tell her that rules here +that thou wishest to enter.' + +'Say that I am here,' said Perceval. 'And if she will not house me for +the night, then will I go forward.' + +Soon the maiden came back and opened the door for him, and his horse +she led into the stable, where she fed it; and Perceval she brought +into the hall. When he came into the light and looked at the girl, he +thought he had never seen another of so fair an aspect. + +She had an old garment of satin upon her, which had once been rich, but +was now frayed and tattered; and fairer was her skin than the bloom of +the rose, and her hair and eyebrows were like the sloe for blackness, +and on her cheeks was the redness of poppies. Her eyes were like deep +pools in a dark wood. And he thought that, though she was very +beautiful, there was great arrogance in her look and cruelty in her +lips. + +When Perceval went towards the dais of the hall he saw a tall and +stately lady in the high seat, old of years and reverend of aspect, +though sorrowful. Several handmaids sat beside her, sad of face and +tattered of dress. All welcomed him right kindly. Then they sat at +meat, and gave the young man the best cheer that they had. + +When it was time to go to rest, the lady said: + +'It were well for you, chieftain, that you sleep not in this castle.' + +'Wherefore,' said Perceval, 'seeing that the storm beats wildly without +and there is room here for many?' + +'For this reason,' said the lady, 'that I would not that so handsome +and kindly a youth as you seem should suffer the doom which must light +upon this my castle at dawn.' + +'Tell me,' said Perceval, 'what is this castle, and what is the doom +you speak of?' + +'This castle is named the Castle of Weeds,' replied the lady, 'and the +lands about it for many miles belonged to my husband, the Earl Mador. +And he was a bold and very valiant man; and he slew Maelond, the eldest +son of Domna, the great witch of Glaive, and ever thereafter things +were not well with him. For she and her eight evil sisters laid a curse +upon him. And that in spite of this, that he slew Maelond in fair +fight, for all that he was a false and powerful wizard. And Domna came +to my husband, when he was worn with a strange sickness, and as he lay +on his deathbed. And she said she should revenge herself upon his +daughter and mine, this maiden here, when she shall be full twice nine +years of age. And she will be of that age ere dawn to-morrow morn, and +at the hour will the fierce Domna and her fearful sisters come, and +with tortures slay all that are herein, and take my dear daughter +Angharad, and use her cruelly.' + +The maiden who had opened to Perceval was that daughter, and she +laughed harshly as her mother spoke. + +'Fear not for me, mother,' she cried. 'They will deck me in rich robes, +and I shall not pine for fair raiment, as I have pined these ten years +with thee.' + +The lady looked sadly upon her as she heard her words. + +'I fear not, my daughter, that they will take thy life,' she said, 'but +I dread this--that they will destroy thy soul!' + +And Angharad laughed and said: + +'What matter, so it be that I live richly while I live!' + +'Nay, nay,' said Perceval, and in his voice was a great scorn, 'it is +evil to speak thus, and it belies your beauty, fair maiden. Rather a +life of poverty than one of shamefulness and dishonour. Thus is it with +all good knights and noble dames, and thus was it with our dear Lord.' + +Then turning to the lady, he said: + +'Lady, I think these evil witches will not hurt thee. For the little +help that I may give to thee, I will stay this night with thee.' + +After he had prayed at the altar in the ruined chapel of the castle, +they led him to a bed in the hall, where he slept. + +And just before the break of day there came a dreadful outcry, with +groans and shrieks and terrible screams and moanings, as if all the +evil that could be done was being done upon poor wretches out in the +dark. + +Perceval leapt from his couch, and with naught upon him but his vest +and doublet, he went with his sword in hand to the gate, and there he +saw two poor serving-men struggling with a hag dressed all in armour. +Behind her came eight others. And their eyes, from between the bars of +their helms, shone with a horrible red fire, and from each point of +their armour sparks flashed, and the swords in their grisly hands +gleamed with a blue flame, so fierce and so terrible that it scorched +the eyes to look upon them. + +But Perceval dashed upon the foremost witch, and with his sword beat +her with so great a stroke that she fell to the ground, and the helm on +her head was flattened to the likeness of a dish. + +When she fell, the light of her eyes and her sword went out, and the +armour all seemed to wither away, and she was nothing but an old ugly +woman in rags. And she cried out: + +'Thy mercy, good Perceval, son of Evroc, and the mercy of Heaven!' + +'How knowest thou, hag,' said he, 'that I am Perceval?' + +'By the destiny spun by the powers of the Underworld,' she said, 'and +the foreknowledge that I should suffer harm from thee. And I knew not +that thou wert here, or I and my sisters would have avoided thee. But +it is fated,' she went on, 'that thou come with us to learn all that +may be learned of the use of arms. For there are none in Britain to +compare with us for the knowledge of warfare.' + +Then Perceval remembered what he had heard the trolls--the people of +the Underworld--say, though he had not understood their meaning. 'The +stainless knight,' they said, 'shall gain from evil greater strength, +and with it he may confound all evil.' + +'If it be thus fated,' he said, 'I will go with thee. But first thou +shalt swear that no evil shall happen to the lady of this castle nor to +her daughter, nor to any that belong to them.' + +'It shall be so,' said the witch, 'if, when the time comes, thou art +strong enough to overcome my power. But if thou failest, Angharad is +mine to do with as I will.' + +Then Perceval took leave of the lady of the Castle of Weeds, and of +Angharad. And the lady thanked him with tears for saving their lives, +but the girl was cold and scornful and said no word of thanks. Then +Perceval went with the witches to their Castle of Glaive. + +He stayed with them for a year and a day, learning such knowledge of +arms, and gaining such strength, that it was marvel to see the feats +which he performed. And while he lived with them they strove to bend +him to their wills, for they saw how great a knight he would become in +prowess and in knightly deeds. They tempted him every hour and every +day, telling him what earthly power, what riches and what great +dominions would be his, if he would but swear fealty to the chief +witch, Domna, and fight for her against King Arthur and his proud +knights. + +Perceval prayed daily for strength to withstand the poison of their +tongues, and evermore he held himself humble and gentle, and thought +much of his widowed mother in her lonely home in the northern wastes, +and of the promise he had made her. Sometimes he thought of Angharad, +how beautiful she was, and how sad it was that she had so cold a heart, +and was so cruel in her words. + +Anon the witch Domna came to him, and said that he had now learned all +that she could teach him, and he must go and prove himself against +greater powers than he had ever yet known. If he prevailed not in that +battle, the ladies of the Castle of Weeds would become the prey of the +witches, and greater power of evil would they have in the world than +ever before. Then she gave him a horse and a full suit of black armour. + +So Perceval took the horse, and armed himself and rode forth. And anon +he came to a hermit's cell beside a ruined chapel, and he alighted and +went into the chapel, and stripped himself, and laid all his armour, +his lance, and his sword, before the high altar. + +Prayerfully he gave his arms to the service of God, and devoted them +one by one to do only knightly and pure deeds, to rescue the oppressed +and the weak, to put down the proud, and to cherish the humble. + +And as he ended praying, the armour stirred of itself, and though it +had been black before, now did the darkness fade from it, and it all +became a pure white. While he marvelled, a faint light glowed over +hauberk, helm, shield, sword and lance, and there was an exceeding +sweet savour wafted through the place. And ghostily, as in a silver +mist, he saw above the altar the likeness of a spear, and beside it a +dish or salver. And at the wondrous sight his breath stayed on his +lips. Then slowly the vision faded from his sight. + +He arrayed himself in his armour that was now of a dazzling white, and +he rode forth and thought to go towards Camelot, where was the court of +King Arthur. But he felt that some power drew him aside through the +desolate ways of a hoar forest, where all the trees were ancient and +big, and all bearded with long moss. + +In a little while he saw a vast castle reared upon a rock in the midst +of the forest. He rode up to it, and marvelled that it was all so +quiet. Then he beat upon the door with the butt of his lance, and the +door opened, and he entered into the wide dark hall. On the pallets +under the wall he saw men lying as if dead. And in the high seat at the +head of the hall sat a king, old and white, but richly clothed, and he +seemed dead like all the rest. All were clad in garments of an ancient +kind, as if they had lived and died a thousand years agone, yet had not +rotted into dust. On the floor, about the wide heap of ashes where the +fire had burned, the hounds still lay as if asleep, and on the posts +the hawks sat stiff upon their perches. + +Much did Perceval marvel at this strange sight, but most of all he +marvelled to see where a shaft of light from a narrow window gleamed +across the hall full upon a shield hung on the fire-pillar beside the +high seat in which the king sat like one dead. + +Perceval caused his horse to pick its way through the hall, and he +approached the shield. And he saw that it was of shining white, but +whiter than the whiteness of his own, and in the centre thereof was a +heart. As he sat looking thereat, he marvelled to see that the heart +seemed to stir as if it were alive, and began to throb and move as if +it beat. Then the whiteness of the shield began to dazzle like to a +light that mortal eyes could not bear. + +He lifted his hand and took the shield by its strap from the peg on +which it hung, and as he did so, a great sigh arose from within the +hall, as if at one time many sleepers awoke. And looking round, he saw +how all the men that had seemed dead were now on their knees, with bent +heads and folded hands as if in prayer. + +The king in the high seat stirred and sat upright, and looked at +Perceval with a most sweet smile. + +'The blessing of God is upon thee, young White Knight,' said he, 'and +now is my watch and ward all ended, and with these my faithful +companions may I go.' + +'Tell me, sir,' said Perceval, 'what means this?' + +'I am Marius,' said the king, 'and I was that Roman soldier who took +pity of the gentle Saviour dying in His agony upon the rood. And I +helped to take Him from the cross. For my pity did God, whom till then +I had not known, deal with me in marvellous wise. And this shield was +mine, and a holy hermit in a desert of Syria did bless it, and prophesy +concerning it and me. I came to this land of Britain when it was full +of evil men, warring fiercely together, and all in heathen darkness. I +preached the Word of Christ, I and my fellows that came with me, until +the heathens rose up and would slay me. And by that time I was wearied +and very old, and wished to die. Yet I sorrowed, wondering whether God +would do naught to rescue these people from this slavery to the old +evil law. Then a man of God came to me at night, a man of marvel, and +he caused this castle to be builded in this ancient wood, and he put my +shield upon the post, and bade me and my dear friends sleep. 'For,' +said he, 'thou hast earned thy sleep, and others shall carry on thy +work and reveal the mercy of God and his Christ to these poor heathens, +and they shall turn to God wholly. And no evil shall be able to break +in upon thy repose. But when, in the distant future, men's hearts are +turning to evil again, one that is of the three white knights shall +come and take this shield, to ward him in the great battle against +evil, and then thou and all that are with thee shall have the +restfulness of death thou hast merited. Go then, thou good knight,' +went on King Marius, 'fight the good fight against that thing of evil +whom the good man spoke of, and may my shield encompass thee and ever +guard thee.' + +Perceval took the shield and left his own. Turning, he rode back +between lines of silent forms bent in prayer. He went forth into the +forest some little way, and heard from the castle the singing of a +joyful hymn. And, looking back, he saw that the castle had vanished. +But still above him and about him was the sound of singing, of a +sweetness indescribable, as if they sang who had gained all that they +desired. + +Then Perceval rode forward till it was night; but never could he get +sight of castle or knight's hold or hermit's cell where he could be +houselled for the night. So he abode in the forest that night, and when +he had prayed he slept beside his good horse until it was day. + +Just before the dawn he awoke to the sound of a great rushing wind all +about him. Yet marvel it was to see that the trees in that hoar wood +did not wave their branches, but all were still. + +Then he was aware of a sweet savour which surrounded him, and anon a +gentle voice spoke out of the darkness. + +'Fair White Knight,' said the voice, 'it is ordained of thee that thou +goest to the lands of the King Pellam in the north, where an evil power +seeks to turn men from the New Law which Christ brought, and to make +them cleave to the Old Law with its cruelty and evil tortures. And +there at the Castle of the Circlet thou shalt fight a battle for the +Saviour of the world. And whether thou shalt win through all, none know +as yet. But in thy purity, thy humility, is thy strength. Fare thee +well!' + +Much moved at these words, Perceval knelt and prayed, and then, as the +dawn filtered through the trees, he mounted his horse and began his +long journey to the north. + +On the seventh day he crossed a plain, and saw far in the north where +the smoke as of fires rose into the clouds, and here and there he saw +the fierce red gleam of flames. And he passed through a ford, and then +he entered a land all black and desolate, with the bodies of the dead +beside the way, unburied, and the houses all broken or burned. In other +places the grass and weeds grew over the hearths of desolated homes, +and wild beasts made their lairs where homely folk seemed lately to +have lived their simple happy lives. + +No man or child could be seen anywhere to ask what all this might mean. +But one day, as he walked his horse beside a brook, over the long +grass, he came upon a poor half-starved peasant who had not strength to +run. And the man knelt before him, and bared his breast, and said, +'Strike, sir knight, and end my misery!' + +But Perceval raised him in his arms and kissed him, and gave him bread +and wine from his scrip, and when the poor man was revived, Perceval +asked him what his words meant. + +'Ah, Sir White Knight!' said the man, whose tears fell as he spoke, +'surely thou art an angel of heaven, not of the pit, such as have +ravened and slaughtered throughout this fair land since good King +Pellam was struck by the Dolorous Stroke that Balin made. For of that +stroke came all our misery. The sacred relics of the Crucifixion fled +our land, our king sickened of a malady that naught could heal, our +crops rotted, and our cattle died. Yet did some among us strive to live +and do as brave men should in all adversity. But into the land came an +evil and a pagan knight, the knight of the Dragon, and he willed that +all should scorn and despise the good Christ, and should turn to the +old gods of the standing stones and the oaken groves. And those that +would not he slew, and their folk he trampled underfoot, and their +herds and fields he destroyed and desolated. And I, fair lord, have +lost my dear wife and my wee bairns, and I wonder why I fled and kept +my life, remembering all I have lost.' + +'Take heart,' said Perceval, 'and remember that it is God His mercy +that chastiseth, and that while thou hast life thou hast hope. It is a +man's duty, a man's nobility, to bear sorrows bravely, and still to +work, to do all and to achieve. I think God will not long let this evil +knight oppress and slay. In His good time He will cut him down.' + +'Fair sir,' said the peasant, 'I thank thee for thy cheer, and I will +take heart and trust in God's good time.' + +And Perceval rode forward through the blackened land and found the +forests burning and the fields wasted. Anon he came to the edge of a +plain, and saw a great castle in the distance. And there came to him a +damsel, weeping, and when he craved of her to tell him why she mourned, +she stayed, and looked at him as if astounded. Then she cried with a +great cry of joy. + +'Oh, tell me, fair sir, who art thou? Thou hast the white armour which +it was foretold the spotless knight should wear, and on thy shield is +the Heart as of Him that bled to save the world.' + +'I know not what you say,' replied Perceval, 'but my name is Perceval, +son of Evroc, and I seek the wicked knight that doeth all this evil.' + +'Then thou art the White Knight,' said the damsel, 'and now I pray that +God aid thee, for my lady and all this poor land have need of thee. +Come thou to my mistress, the lady of the Chaplet.' + +Therewith she led him to the castle, and the lady thereof came out to +him. She was of a sad countenance, but of a great beauty, though poorly +clothed. + +'Fair sir,' she said, 'my maiden hath told me who thou art, and I +sorrow that one so noble as thou seemest shall essay to overcome the +fiend knight of the Dragon. Yet if thou shouldst prevail, all men in +this tortured land will bless thee, and I not the least. For daily doth +the evil knight slay my poor knights, and cometh and casteth their +blackened and burned bodies before my hall. And many of my poor folk +hath he slain or enslaved, and others hath he caused to follow his evil +worship, and many of my rich and fair lands hath he wrested from me.' + +'Therefore, fair lady,' said Perceval, 'I would seek him without delay, +for to essay the force of my body upon him, by the grace of God.' + +'And shouldst thou conquer,' said the lady, 'with the fiend's death the +hallowed relics which King Pellam guarded shall return to bless this +land. Now, therefore, go ye towards the Burnt Land beyond the brook, +for that is where is the lair of the fiend that doth oppress us.' + +Perceval went forward across the plain to a brook, and having forded +the water he came to a wide hollow where the ground was all baked and +burned, and the trees were charred and black. Here and there lay pieces +of armour, red and rusted, as if they had been in a fierce fire; and in +one place was the body of a knight freshly slain, and he was charred +and black. + +Then, as Perceval looked about him, he saw the dark hole of a cave in a +bank beside the hollow, and suddenly therefrom issued a burst of +horrible fire and smoke, and with a cry as of a fiend a black knight +suddenly appeared before him on a great horse, whose eyes flashed as +with fire and whose nostrils jetted hot vapours. + +'Ha! thou Christian!' cried the knight in a horrible voice, 'what dost +thou here? Wouldst thou have thy pretty white armour charred and +blackened and thyself killed by my dragon's power?' + +Then Perceval saw how the boss of the Black Knight's shield was the +head of a dragon, its forked tongue writhing, its teeth gnashing, and +its eyes so red and fiendish that no mortal, unless by God's aid, could +look on it and live. From its mouth came a blinding flash as of +lightning and beat at Perceval, but he held up his shield of the +Throbbing Heart, and with angry shrieks the Black Knight perceived that +the lightning could not touch the shield. + +Then from his side the evil knight tore his sword, and it flamed red as +if it was heated in a fierce furnace, and thrusting forward he came and +beat at Perceval. But the White Knight warded off the blows with his +shield, which the flaming sword had no power to harm. + +Then did the Black Knight marvel greatly, for never had a knight, +however skilled, withstood him, for either the lightning of the dragon +shield had burnt him, or the stroke of his flaming sword had slain him +swiftly. And by this he knew that this knight was Perceval. + +'Thou knowest not who it is thou fightest,' said the Black Knight, with +a scornful laugh. 'Thou must put forth more than the skill thou didst +learn of the witches of Glaive if thou wouldst overcome me. For know +ye, that I am a fosterling of Domna the witch, and she taught me more +than ever she taught you. Now prepare ye to die.' + +Then Perceval knew that this indeed was the fight which Domna had +foretold, and that if he failed in this, ruin and sorrow would be the +lot of many. + +And Perceval began to thrust and strike full valorously and skilfully, +but naught seemed to avail him. Thus for a long time they went about, +thrusting and striking. Always the strength of the Black Knight seemed +as unwearied as that of a demon, while Perceval felt his arm weaken, as +much from the great strokes he gave, as from the burning fires that +darted at him from the dragon shield. + +Then Perceval cried in prayer for aid, and asked that if Christ would +have this land saved for His glory, strength should be given him to +slay this fiendish oppressor. + +Forthwith strength seemed to nerve his arm mightily, and lifting his +sword he struck at the shield of the knight, and so vehement was the +blow that he cut down the shield even to the head of the dragon. +Feeling the wound, the dragon gave forth a great flame, and Perceval +wondered to see that now his own sword burned as if on fire. + +Then, while the Black Knight marvelled at this stroke, Perceval struck +at him more fiercely and beat in the other's helm, so that the fiend +knight bent and swayed in his saddle. But recovering, he became so +wroth that, with his fiery sword, he heaved a mighty blow at Perceval, +and cut through his hauberk even to the shoulder, which was burned to +the bone. + +Ere the other could withdraw himself, Perceval thrust his sword to the +hilt into the loathsome throat of the dragon. Thereupon the dragon gave +so terrible a cry that the earth seemed to shake with the horror of it. +And in its wrath and pain the dragon's head turned upon the Black +Knight its master, and vomited forth fire so fiercely, that it scorched +and burned him utterly, so that he fell from his horse dead. + +Perceval, dizzy and weak from the battle, alighted from his horse, and +went towards the knight, that he might slay the dragon. But suddenly he +swooned and fell and his consciousness went from him. + +When Perceval came to his senses again, he found himself upon a pallet, +and the rough walls of a room were about him, while above him was the +window, as it seemed, of an abbey or convent. And he was so weak he +could not lift his hand. + +Some one came to him, and he recognised Tod the troll. + +'Ah, good Tod,' said he faintly. 'Where am I?' + +'Now God be praised,' said Tod, and smiled joyfully. 'For the nuns +feared ye might not win through the poison of your wound which the +dragon knight did give you. 'Twas I who had followed you, lord, since +that you did leave the hold of the witches, and when you swooned I +brought you here, to the convent of the White Nuns. And now that I know +ye live, I go to your lady mother to tell her the good news, for she is +weary to know tidings of you.' + +'Go, good Tod,' said Perceval, 'and say I will come for her blessing +when I may mount my horse again.' + +When Tod had left him, there came a nun to him, and he knew her for +Angharad, who had been so proud and scornful when he left her at the +Castle of Weeds. And he asked her how she had fared, and why she was a +nun. + +'To repent me of my evil mind,' she said. 'For when you left us I did +not in my heart thank ye that you had saved my mother and me from death +and worse. And the witches came to me and tempted me with riches and +power, even as they were tempting you while you were with them. I heard +how you withstood them, and I scorned you and hated you and said you +would yield some day. And then you left the witches, having learned all +their strong powers, yet having withstood them, and I marvelled much. I +heard men say you were one of three stainless knights of the world that +should achieve the Holy Graal, because of your great humility and +purity, and that great honour and glory would be yours, because you put +not your trust in your own strength. Then I repented, and would not +listen to the evil women. But they followed me, whispering and +tempting, and then for terror I sought a holy hermit, and he brought me +here, and now am I at peace, and my proud heart is humble.' + +'By my faith, sister,' said Perceval, 'I am rejoiced to hear thee. For +I thought when I saw thee that thou hadst a proud and a hard heart. But +as thou wert a beauteous and lovely maiden I thought much of thee; and +had it not been foreordained otherwise, I would have loved thee above +all women and wedded thee.' + +The sister's pale face flushed. + +'Nay, but thou hadst a greater glory in store for thee,' she said. 'For +thou shalt find the Holy Graal and restore it to this kingdom, and with +it weak men shall forsake their leanings to the old law of hate, and +cleave only to Christ and His new law of love.' + +'It is as God may will it,' said Perceval. + +In a little while he strengthened and rose from his pallet, and fared +forth towards the north where his widowed mother sat in her lonely +hall, waiting for him whose fame was sweet in every man's mouth. + +As he passed through the land, he saw how it had already begun to smile +again. Men went to their work unafraid, the corn was brightening on the +hills, the cattle lowed, women sang at their work, and children played. +And all blessed him as he rode. + +Thus was ended at last the sorrow in the land of King Pellam which was +brought in by the Dolorous Stroke which Sir Balin had given a +generation before. + + + + +VIII + +HOW SIR OWEN WON THE EARLDOM OF THE FOUNTAIN + + +Now the young page Owen, who had saved King Arthur from midnight murder +at the hand of the evil Sir Turquine, whom Lancelot slew, had tarried +at the court of the king, and in prowess and knightly achievements was +among the most famous of the knights of the Round Table. And always was +he wishful to go on strange adventures, however far might be the +country, or dangerous the ways thereto, or cruel and crafty the foes. + +One day King Arthur was at Caerleon-upon-Usk, and sat conversing with a +few of his knights in the presence-chamber. With him was Sir Owen and +Sir Kay, and there was also Sir Conan and Sir Bedevere. The queen sat +near them, while her handmaidens stood by the window at needlework. + +In a little while Arthur said he would sleep until the horn sounded for +dinner. For he had come from London late the night before, and had not +had his full rest. + +'But,' said he, 'do you, my knights, continue your talk, and tell each +other tales as before, and if you are hungry, Kay will give you collops +of meat and horns of mead.' + +So the king slept on his broad seat of green rushes, over which was +spread a splendid covering of flame-coloured satin. And cushions of red +satin were under his head. + +Kay ordered a page to bring meat and bread and mead, and when the four +had eaten, Sir Conan was called upon to tell how he became possessed of +a dark bay palfrey, as to which all envied him for its beauty, but +concerning which he always put off telling the tale of how he had +obtained it. + +'You must know,' began Sir Conan, 'that I was the only son of my +parents, and the confines of my father's barony in Lothian were too +small for my aspiring and my daring. I thought there was no adventure +in the world too great for my doing, and when I had fought all the +knights who would meet me in my own country, and had slain all the +trolls that wrought evil there, I equipped myself in my best armour and +set forth to seek greater adventures in deserts and wild regions. And I +fared south for many weeks, over desolate mountains and wild and +terrible fastnesses of rock and moor, where only the robber seemed to +live, and the wild, magic people of the green mounds, and where there +was no sound but the song of the lark, the plunge of the beaver and +otter in the river, the growl of the brown bear from the rock, and the +howl of the wolf at night. + +'And I fared through all these terrors unscathed, and one day I came to +a high ridge, and saw stretching below me the fairest valley I had ever +seen. The grass was green and smooth, the trees were soft and of an +equal growth; and a river ran gently through the dale, with a path +beside it. + +'I followed the path all day until the evening, but met no one, until, +as the afternoon was waning, I came suddenly upon a large and massive +castle, which shone in the westering sun. And I approached the green +before the gateway, and saw two youths with curling auburn hair, clad +richly in garments of yellow satin, with frontlets of gold upon their +forehead. And they had daggers with jewelled hilts, and these they were +shooting at a mark. + +'And on a bench a little way from them was a handsome man in the prime +of life, of a proud look, clad in a rich mantle. + +'I went forward and saluted him, and he returned my greeting with great +courtesy. And, rising, he led me into the hall, which, however, was but +poorly furnished. And I wondered that the knight and the youths should +be so richly clothed, while the hall was scanty. + +'Six maidens came forward, and while three took my horse, the others +unarmed me, and gave me water wherein to wash, and a dining-robe to put +on. And the six maidens were fairer than any I had ever seen. Then we +sat down when the meat was ready, and though the food was good, it was +simple, and the vessels and flagons upon the table were of silver, but +very old and dented, as if they had been long in use. + +'And no word was spoken until the meal was ended, and then the knight +asked me my name and whither I was going. + +'I told him my name, and he told me his. And he was, he said, Sir Dewin +of Castle Cower. And I told him that I was faring south seeking any +great adventure, so that I might gain glory and renown. "For," I said, +"I wish to find a knight who is stronger and more dexterous in arms +than I." + +'At that he looked upon me and smiled. + +'"If I did not fear to distress you too much," he said, "I would show +you what you seek!" + +'"Tell me," I said, "for I am eager to obtain this adventure." + +'"Sleep here to-night," said Sir Dewin, "and in the morning rise early, +and take the road to the wood behind the castle. Follow the path till +you come to a fountain in a glade. There you will see a large cup, with +a chain. Strike the cup with your lance, and you will have the +adventure ye desire." + +'And Sir Dewin smiled again as if he thought the adventure was one +which he deemed was beyond me, and I was angered and soon retired to my +pallet. But I could not sleep, for I was eager to rise and meet this +adventure, and to come back and mock Sir Dewin for his laughter. + +'Before dawn I arose and equipped myself, and mounted my horse, and +took my way to the wood, as Sir Dewin had told me. And the road was +long and difficult; but at length I came to the glade and found the +fountain. On a stone pillar beside it a chain was fastened, and at the +end of the chain was a large cup. + +'With my lance I struck the cup, and instantly there was a great peal +of thunder, so that I trembled for fear. And instantly there came a +great storm of rain and of hail. The hailstones were so large and so +hard that neither man nor beast could live through that storm, for they +would have slain them, so fiercely did they beat. And the way that I +escaped was this. I placed the beak of my shield over the head and neck +of my horse, while I held the upper part over my own head. Thus did we +withstand the storm, though the flanks of my horse were sore wounded. + +'Then the sky cleared, the sun came out, and a flock of birds began to +sing on a tree beside the fountain. And surely no one has heard such +entrancing music before or since. So charmed was I with listening, that +I noticed not at first a low rumbling which seemed to come nearer and +nearer. + +'And suddenly I heard a voice approaching me, and I looked round just +as a big knight in sky-blue armour rode swiftly up the valley. + +'"O knight," cried he, "what ill have I done to thee, that thou usest +me so evilly? Knowest thou not that the storm which thou hast sent by +evil magic hath slain my best flocks on the hills, and beaten to death +all my men that were without shelter?" + +'He came at me furiously. I put my lance in rest and spurred towards +him, and we came together with so great an onset that I was carried far +beyond the crupper of my horse. + +'Then the knight, taking no further notice of me, passed the shaft of +his lance through the bridle of my horse, and so rode swiftly away. And +it moved me to anger to think he despised me so much as not even to +despoil me of my sword. + +'Very depressed of spirit was I as I took my way back to the castle of +Sir Dewin. And as I passed through the wood I came to a glade, in the +midst of which was a green mound. And as I passed it I heard laughter, +which seemed to come from the earth. And I heard a voice sneering and +mocking me. And I guessed it was the voice of a troll or moundman whom +I could not see, who lived in the hillock, and I wonder I did not go +mad with the shame of his derision. + +'And I had not the spirit to go to try to break into the mound, lest he +should work magic and more disaster upon me. So I left that glade, with +the sound of his hoarse laughter ringing in my ears. + +'I reached the castle of Sir Dewin, and well entertained was I, and +rested for the remainder of that day. And full of courtesy was Sir +Dewin and his household, for none of them referred to my encounter, and +to the fact that I had come back without a horse. And when I rose next +day, there was a dark bay palfrey, ready saddled, waiting in the +courtyard for me. That horse I still possess, though the sight of him +ever brings back the memory of my defeat. + +'Verily it seems strange to me that neither before nor since have I +ever heard of any person besides myself who knew of this adventure, and +that the subject of it should exist within the bounds of the lands of +King Arthur, without any other person lighting upon it.' + +'It would be well, indeed,' said Sir Owen, 'to go to try to discover +that valley and that fountain.' + +'Well, indeed,' said Sir Kay sourly, for he had ever been jealous of +Sir Owen, even when he had been but a page, 'if thy mouth were not more +ready to say more than thou ever carest to do.' + +'Thou art worthy of punishment, Sir Kay,' said Gwenevere sharply, 'in +that thou speakest thus of a man so tried in prowess and brave deeds as +Owen.' + +'Fair lady,' said Sir Owen, laughing, 'we take no heed of Kay's raw +words. He ever growls like a surly dog.' + +At that the king awoke, and asked whether it was not time for meat. And +the horn was sounded, and men came in from the tilting-ground and the +play-field, and washed, and the king and all his household sat down to +dinner. + +On the morrow, before dawn, Sir Owen rose privily, and put on his +armour and took his horse, and rode out of the town, and for many days +rode over mountains, until he saw the sea like a sheet of burnished +lead lying on his left hand. + +Then he turned his horse's head away, and rode far through wild and +distant places, into the heart of the land. And at length he arrived at +the valley which Conan had described to him, whereat he rejoiced +greatly. + +He descended to the path beside the river, and journeyed along it till +he came to the castle of Sir Dewin, as Conan had described. And the two +youths were on the green before the gate wrestling together, and the +tall knight of proud mien was standing by. To Owen it seemed that he +was fiercer and prouder-looking than Conan had described. Nevertheless, +he returned the salute of Sir Owen courteously and led him into the +castle. + +Sir Owen was entertained as well as Conan had been, though the hall +seemed poorer, the food coarser, and the maidens seemed careworn, and +not so fair as his friend had described. After the meal Sir Dewin asked +Sir Owen who he was and whither he wended, and Sir Owen replied: + +'I have heard of the Knight of the Fountain, and I would fight him and +overcome him, if I may.' + +Whereat Sir Dewin looked at him with keen fierce eyes, and observed +narrowly the build of Sir Owen's body. + +'Knowest thou aught of the prize if thou slayest the Knight of the +Fountain?' asked Sir Dewin. + +'Naught know I of that,' answered Sir Owen; 'but I would seek the +adventure, and whatever it will bring.' + +At this the knight was silent, and seemed to brood for some moments, +with dark and frowning brows. Then he laughed and said: + +'Take thou the path thou seest through the wood behind the castle. +Follow that till thou comest to a glade wherein is a great mound. There +ye will see a stone slab. Knock on that three times, and the troll-man +that dwells therein will tell thee thy further way.' + +Sir Owen marked how evil was the smile with which Sir Dewin said these +words; but Sir Owen thanked him, and then he was shown to his pallet +and all retired to rest. + +When he arose in the morning Sir Owen found his horse already prepared, +and, having put on his armour, he rode forth along the way which the +knight had indicated to him. And he came at last to the glade wherein +he saw the great mound, with grass growing all over it, as if it were a +little hill. In the side he saw a stone slab as if it were a door, and +he struck upon it with the butt of his lance. + +Three times he struck, and at the third blow he heard a voice, rough +and loud, from somewhere above his head. + +'Get thee gone,' cried the voice, 'darken not the door of my house, or +'twill be worse for thee.' + +Sir Owen could not see who was speaking, for no one was visible. + +'I would ask thee the way to the fountain,' he replied. 'Tell me, and I +will not trouble thee further, thou surly troll.' + +'The fountain?' cried the voice. 'I will save thee thy journey, thou +overbearing knight, as I have saved it for others as proud and as +would-be valiant, whom my master hath sent to me!' + +With that Sir Owen received so hard and fierce a blow upon his +headpiece that he was hard put to it to keep his wits and his seat; and +looking round he saw the troll, a fierce dark little man, on the very +top of the mound, wielding a long thick bar of iron, as thick as a +weaver's beam. + +Sir Owen thrust at the troll with his lance; but the moundman seized it +below the point of steel, and so strong was he, that though Sir Owen +drew him down from the top of the hillock, he could not loose it from +the little man's hold. + +Meanwhile, the troll was beating at Sir Owen with the staff of iron, +which, for all its weight and size, he wielded as if it was no more +than a stout cudgel. And hard bestead was Sir Owen to shield himself +from the smashing blows which rained upon him. At the seventh blow his +shield was cracked across and his shield arm was numbed. + +Suddenly he dashed his horse forward, and the little man, still holding +the lance, was thrown backward upon the grassy slope of his own mound. +Swiftly Sir Owen leaped from his horse and drew his sword, and while +the troll was rising he dashed at him and wounded him. + +But next moment the troll was up, his dark narrow face terrible with +rage, for the blood ran down the deer-skin tunic which half covered +him. And then the blows of his iron rod came thicker and faster, while +he moved so swiftly round about the knight that Sir Owen, though he +thrust quickly and fiercely, could not strike him again. + +Sir Owen was becoming dizzy and weak, and felt that not for long now +could he bear up his dented and broken shield against the blows that +must at length smash his arm. + +Suddenly the quick movements of the little troll ceased, and he +staggered. Then he dropped the iron bar and swayed like a drunken man +towards the knight. He fell on his knees before Sir Owen, put his head +upon the ground, and clutched the knight's steel-clad foot as if to put +it upon his neck. But he could do no more, and so lay panting and spent +with exhaustion. + +And Sir Owen could not find it in himself to pierce him through with +his sword, for the troll's subjection made pity come into his heart. + +'Ah, sir troll!' said the knight, panting also, and very fain to rest. +'A brave troll thou art, seeing thou hast used no magic, but hath +fought me like a very man.' + +'Chieftain,' gasped the troll, 'my heart is like to break, for thou +hast tried me sore. Never yet hath a knight that sought the fountain +withstood my rod as valiantly as thou hast, and thou hast put my +strength all to naught.' + +'But I know not why thou didst try to slay me,' said Sir Owen, 'seeing +that I did but ask thee to show me my way to the fountain.' + +'I am the slave of him that overcometh me,' answered the troll, 'and I +must do his bidding. Sir Dewin did conquer me by evil wizardry, and he +sent thee to me with the three knocks on my door, whereby I knew he +commanded me to slay thee.' + +'Well, and what wilt thou do now, valiant troll?' + +'I must hide me from the wrath of Sir Dewin,' said the troll, 'until my +sore wound is healed. Then will I be thy slave, sir knight, and help +thee in whatever adventure thou mayst wish!' + +'Get thee gone, then, good troll,' said Sir Owen, with a smile. 'But +first tell me my way to the fountain.' + +Whereupon the troll showed him the way and gave him certain directions, +and then said: + +'Chieftain, thou wilt conquer in all thy fighting, and great honour and +reward shall be thine. But beware thee of leaving the side of her that +shall love thee, for more than a night and a day, or long woe shall +find thee. And do thou take this, for it may find thee friends.' + +And the troll, whose name was Decet, held towards him a blue stone upon +a silver string. The stone burned with the dazzling blue of the +lightning flash, when the light caught it. + +Sir Owen thanked him, put the string about his neck, and stood watching +the troll as he limped, faint and wounded, into the mound that was his +home. + +Then, picking up his lance, Sir Owen mounted his horse, and rode +forward through the wood, thinking of this strange adventure. + +When he reached the fountain where a silver cup hung by a silver chain, +he filled the cup with water, as the troll had bidden him, and threw it +over a pillar of stone that was set beside the fountain. And instantly +there came a clap of thunder as if the earth would dash asunder, and +after the thunder came the shower, and so fierce and heavy were the +hailstones that they would surely have slain horse and rider, but that +Sir Owen, as the troll had bidden him, had put his horse's forefeet in +the fountain, and kept his own hand therein, whereby the hailstones +became thin rain before they touched him. + +Then the sky became bright, and the flock of birds descended on the +tree and began to sing. But Sir Owen heeded them not, but mounted his +horse, dressed his shield and lance, and prepared for the combat. + +There came a mourning cry through the wood, and a sky-blue knight on a +high-stepping destrier dashed through the trees towards Sir Owen, and +came against him, lance in rest. Whereupon Sir Owen put spurs to his +horse, and furiously rode against the knight. At the first onset each +broke his lance; whereat they drew their swords and lashed at each +other most fiercely. + +Sir Owen feinted, and then, quickly recovering, he smote the other so +hard and stern a blow that the blade bit through headpiece, skin and +bone, until it wounded the brain itself. + +Then, with a great cry, the blue knight wheeled his horse and fled, +with Sir Owen in pursuit. But the other knight's horse was fleeter, and +Sir Owen could not overtake him, though he kept within a few yards. + +In a little while a great castle, resplendent with new stone, shone +before them. The wounded knight thundered across the drawbridge, with +Owen close behind him; but when the blue knight gained the street +beyond, the portcullis was let fall with a rush. Sir Owen fell from his +horse, and looking round he found that the horse had been cut in twain +by the gate. + +So that Sir Owen found himself, with the forepart of the dead horse, in +a prison between the two gates, while the hinder part of the horse was +outside. And Sir Owen saw that his death must be very near, for already +he saw one of the soldiers who were guarding the gate run after the +knight to the castle, as if for orders to slay him. + +Looking through the inner gate, he saw a narrow street facing him, with +booths and little houses on each side; and coming towards him he beheld +a maiden, small but beautiful, with black curling hair and a circlet of +gold upon her forehead; and she was of high rank, for she wore a dress +of yellow satin, and on her feet were shoes of speckled leather. + +She stopped when but a few steps from the gate where the soldiers stood +watching Sir Owen; and he saw that her eyes were bent fixedly upon the +blue stone which lay on the knight's breast. And he saw that, in the +darkness of his prison, it shone with a fierce blue flame. + +He looked up and saw the maiden's eyes bent on his, and he seemed to +hear the voice of the maiden speaking to him, as clearly as if she +stood beside him. In these words she spoke: + +'Take that stone which is on thy breast, and hold it tightly in the +palm of one hand. And as thou concealest it, so will it conceal thee. +Thus wilt thou be able to pass unseen between the bars of the portcullis. +And I will wait for thee on the horseblock yonder, and thou wilt be +able to see me, though I cannot see thee. Therefore, come and place thy +hand on my shoulder, and I shall know that thou art come. And then thou +must accompany me to the place where I shall hide thee.' + +He saw the maiden turn away and go up the street, and Sir Owen did as +the voice had bidden him. And looking down he saw nothing of himself, +although he could see the soldiers looking in, and he saw the surprise +and then the horror on their faces, as they realised that they had seen +him spirited away before their eyes. + +Sir Owen passed between them and rejoined the maiden, as she had bidden +him. He went with her, still invisible, and she led him to a small +house, and in it was a large and beautiful chamber, all painted with +gorgeous colours, and well furnished. And there she gave him food, and +he rested securely until late in the afternoon. + +Then, as he looked out of the window upon the wall of the castle, which +towered dark and high above him, he heard a clamour and sounds of a +mourning coming from it. He asked the maiden the cause of it. + +'They are administering extreme unction to the Lord Cadoc, who owns the +castle, for he hath been wounded.' + +'And who art thou, that thou shouldst save me who am a stranger?' he +asked of the maiden. + +'My name is Elined,' said the maiden, 'and since thou bearest the Blue +Stone of the Little Folk, I must aid thee all I can.' + +At that time she would tell him no more, but shortly left him to his +rest, saying she would come to attend upon him again at the dawning. + +In the silence and darkness of the night Sir Owen awoke by reason of a +woful outcry and lamenting; and then he knew that Earl Cadoc, the +Knight of the Fountain, was dead from the wound he had given him. + +Soon after dawn he arose and clothed himself; and looking out of the +window he saw the streets filled with a great host of people in black, +and the weeping and the mourning were pitiful to hear. Knights, with +their armour craped, rode in great companies before; then came the +men-at-arms with weapons reversed; then the ladies of the household, +and after these the priests came, and in their midst was the bier. + +And over it was a veil of white linen, and wax tapers burning beside +and around it, and of the gentlemen who supported the bier on their +shoulders none was lower in rank than a powerful baron, owning broad +lands and great companies of retainers. + +Last of all there came a lady walking behind the bier. And though her +face was stained with the many tears she had shed, and was pale with +sorrow, Sir Owen thought he had never seen so beautiful a lady, or one +so gentle and kind of mien. + +Deeply he sorrowed because he had caused the death of her lord, +inasmuch as it had given her such grief. + +Her hair, yellow and long and curled, hung dishevelled about her +shoulders, and her dress of rich yellow satin was torn, and across it +was a wide sash of black velvet. And it was a marvel that she could see +how to walk, for the tears filled her eyes. + +Sir Owen could not take his gaze from her, and love and pity for her +filled his mind. + +When the procession had passed out of the town the maiden Elined came +into the room, and Sir Owen asked her eagerly who was the lady he had +seen. + +'Heaven is my witness,' replied Elined, 'but she is the fairest and the +sweetest and the most noble of women. She is my beloved mistress, and +her name is Carol, and she is Countess of the Fountain, the widow of +him thou didst slay yesterday.' + +'I sorrow for that,' said Owen, 'for I have seen her grief. But, +verily, she is the woman that I love best. And if my hand hath wounded +her grievously, my arm would more willingly protect her.' + +'Indeed, thou art brave and bold, sir knight,' said the maiden, 'and +much may you win, if you are as faithful in your service and devotion +to her as you have been in the service of your king, the great Arthur.' + +And when it had passed midday, Elined said to Sir Owen: + +'You must keep this chamber while I go and woo for thee. Stir not out +into the city lest ill befall thee.' + +Elined went to the castle and found all was in confusion, with mourning +and lamentation. Her mistress she found sitting listlessly looking from +the window with pale sorrow on her face; and to Elined's greeting she +would respond not. + +'It astounds me,' said Elined at length, 'to find you giving yourself +up to unavailing sorrow in this way.' + +'It astounds me also,' said the countess reproachfully, 'that in my +time of trouble and affliction, you, whom I have enriched and favoured +beyond all my handmaidens, should desert me. If I did not love thee, I +should order thee to be executed.' + +'It was for thy advantage that I was absent,' said Elined. 'I +reproached not thy grief when thy lord lay dying, but now you have +yourself to think of. Yet you seem more willing to live with the dead +than to take heed what may happen to yourself in a few hours. I would +have thee remember that a live dog is better than a dead lion.' + +'Hence from my sight, unfeeling girl!' cried the countess in anger. +'There is no one in the world to compare with my dead lord in beauty, +in strength, and in prowess. Get thee gone!' + +Without a word Elined turned and went from the room. But she had not +gone far before she heard the countess coughing behind her, and on +looking back her mistress beckoned to her. + +'You are indeed hardhearted, Elined,' said she, 'to think to leave me +in my grief, and in my need of good counsel. I will overlook thy +cruelty if, as you say, you have been absent for my advantage. What +mean you by that?' + +'This is my meaning,' said Elined. 'Thou knowest that without a man of +knightly prowess and bravery, thou canst not hope to guard the fountain +and keep these wide dominions in the power of thyself. Thou art the +prey and booty of any bold bandit lord that chooses to make war upon +thee, and to capture and wed thee. And dost thou forget the wiles and +treachery of thy old lover whom thou hast flouted, Sir Dewin of Castle +Cower? Hath he not sworn to take thee and thy kingdom, sooner or later, +by fair means or by foul? Therefore it behoves thee at once to find a +noble and generous knight, courtly and worshipful, who will guard thee +and love thee, and hold down the turbulent lords, thy vassals and thy +neighbours.' + +'Hard will such a task be,' sighed the countess, 'for the Earl Cadoc +was a man among men.' + +'Yet I will wager to find thee such another, even excelling him in +knightly prowess, in beauty of person, and for love and devotion to +thee more than his equal,' replied Elined, who remembered that the dead +earl had not been over tender to his gentle countess on many occasions. + +'And where couldst thou find this paragon?' said the countess, flushing +a little at the reminder of her late lord's neglect. + +'At the court of King Arthur,' replied Elined; 'for there are to be +found the peerless knights of the world, men of their knightly words, +and devoted to love and war. + +'If it be that I must think of wedding again so soon,' sighed the +countess, 'go then to King Arthur, and find me such a knight. But let +him be gentle as well as brave, with fine and courtly manners--a man, +indeed, whom I can really love.' + +Elined went and kissed the flushing cheek of her mistress. + +'Trust me for that,' she said gently. 'I would do that as much for +myself as for thee, my dear Carol. For did it not often go to my heart +to see thee pine for gentle speech and affection, and sorrow at the +harsh words thou didst suffer? I will set forth at once to Caerleon, +and him that I bring shall be worthy of thee. And all others that may +come and woo thee, do thou keep at arm's length until I return.' + +Elined departed from the castle, but she did not go beyond the town. It +was in her mind to lie hidden for as long a time as it would take her +to go to Caerleon and return therefrom. Meanwhile, going about +disguised, she would be able to see what the many lords were doing who +would essay to woo the countess, seeing that, lovely and rich as she +was, she would be a splendid prize. + +And things happened as she had foreseen. Every day there came into the +town one cavalcade or more, with some baron or earl in flashing armour +at the head of his vassals, come to try his fortune and to win the +lovely Countess of the Fountain, and to possess her wide dominions. + +Daily the countess was compelled to receive fresh comers in audience, +and while with deft excuses she kept each at arm's length, they crowded +her audience-chamber, proud and insolent, humble or crafty, eyeing each +other with high looks, each prepared to slay his rival if the need +arose. + +At last there came an earl who, as he came up the street at the head of +a large company of knights, seemed to shine like the sun. For his +armour was all of gold, and jewels were about his neck, and on his +girdle and his wrists. Every toss of his destrier's head dazzled the +eyes with the fountain of flashing lights given off by the jewels which +adorned the cloth of gold about its head. + +This knight called himself the Earl of Drood, but Elined was in the +crowd of gaping townspeople that saw him enter, and she knew him for +the old insolent lover of her mistress, whom the countess had ever +despised, Sir Dewin of Castle Cower. + +Sir Dewin disguised himself so that the countess did not know him. She +received him in audience, and though she was startled by the +magnificence of his dress, and a little moved by the gentleness of his +manner, she felt that she feared and distrusted him. + +The next day he craved to see her again, and then said: + +'Fair and noble lady, so deeply doth thy beauty move me, that I am +eager to put to the test swiftly the question whether I or some other +happier knight among these noble gentlemen shall obtain thy hand. +Therefore I crave permission of thee to proclaim a joust between all +these knights that sue for thee, and the winner among them all shall be +he that thou shalt wed.' + +'Sir,' said the countess with great dignity, 'it is not for thee to +order here, but for me. I wish nothing to be done for the space of nine +days, and then will I make my choice.' + +At which Sir Dewin, though full of rage, must needs seem content. And +the countess hoped that, in the space she had named, Elined would have +returned with the knight of her choice, and she herself could choose +him for her lord, if she thought he was the man whom she could most +trust and love. + +But Sir Dewin wrought upon many of the suitors who were of his mind, +and they resolved that, will she, nill she, the countess must needs +abide by a contest between all her wooers to be holden on the tenth +day. + +And on the tenth day all the knights, barons, and earls met together in +full armour in a broad green jousting-place beneath the windows of the +countess, and having made the rules of contest, and committed them to +the seneschal of the countess, they prepared to prove which among them +all was the knight of most prowess. + +Then there was fierce hurtling to and fro of knight against knight, and +lances splintered, horses reared, knights fell wounded or dead, and +were dragged away. And for long, among the ninety-nine knights that +there jousted, none of the crowds who looked on could see which were +they who were gaining the day. + +From her window the countess watched with a sorrowing and dreading +heart; for Elined had not yet returned, and therefore the countess must +be the prize of one of these suitors who had pestered her, and none of +whom she cared for. + +Then, when the dust of the jousting had a little cleared, and the +knights had withdrawn to the sides of the lists, to breathe and rest +awhile, it was seen that twelve remained of the ninety-nine. + +The countess, looking from her window, knew them all from the devices +on their shields, and none of them were men she favoured. Some she knew +were evil men, yet, as knights, were powerful in jousting. And she +dreaded which of them should be the victor, to be her lord and master. + +Then the knights hurtled together again, and as one after the other was +unhorsed by stronger opponents and went from the field, she went pale +with fear and anxiety. + +At last there were but two, and these were Sir Dewin, whom she knew as +the Earl of Drood, and the other was a knight in blue armour, with a +shield on which was painted a hillock or mound. And she knew him to be +a man named Sir Daunt, or the Knight of the Mount, a man of fierce +temper, quarrelsome and cruel. + +The countess could have swooned with terror, for she knew that now she +was doomed to an unhappy life, whichever of these knights prevailed. +For though the Earl of Drood was soft and gentle in speech and manner, +she feared that this but covered a wicked heart. + +She could hardly bear to look as she heard these two, the last of all +the ninety-nine, crash together in the midst of the jousting-ground. +And she heard the cries of the onlookers. + +'The blue knight's the better man! How he heaves with his sword! Ah, +the golden knight is down!' + +And looking from her window the countess saw the earl was lying +wounded, and the Knight of the Mount stood over him. Then the earl +surrendered and was carried off the field. + +The great shouts that saluted the victor made the countess turn faint +and sick with dread, so that she fell back among her handmaidens in a +swoon. But, quickly recovering, she stood up, resolved to meet her fate +with proud dignity. + +In a few moments the door opened and the arras was pushed aside, and +the groom of the chambers announced with a shout: + +'The Knight of the Mound, victorious in the joust, craves leave to +greet our lady the countess.' + +The lady bowed assent, trembling in every limb. Then the groom stepped +aside, and into the chamber came a comely gentleman, clad in purple +tunic, rich with chains and jewelled belt. + +But it was not the knight whom the countess had expected, but a +stranger, with a courtly and gentle manner and a winning smile. + +Then from behind him came Elined, full of smiles, with a look of +triumph in her eyes. + +'My lady,' she said, bowing low, 'this is the knight, Sir Owen of +Wales, from the court of King Arthur, whom I have brought to protect +you and wed you. He hath just proved himself the doughtiest among a +hundred.' + +The terror of the countess was changed instantly into joy, and she put +forth her hand, and Sir Owen bent and kissed it, and she led him to the +window seat, and commanded Elined to sit with them. And they spoke full +joyously together, for the countess was much taken with the noble and +gentle bearing of Sir Owen, and admired him because he had proved +himself the best man of all her wooers. + +In a few days she sent for the bishops and priests, and her nuptials +with Sir Owen were celebrated with such feasting that all the country +was full of merriment and joy. And the men of the earldom came and did +homage to Owen, and he became the Earl of the Fountain. + +In a little while thereafter Sir Owen told his lady that it was he who +had chased the soul from the body of her former lord. But the countess +was not vexed by the knowledge, for Sir Owen loved her greatly, and +with all tenderness and honour, and never had the countess been so +happy with Earl Cadoc as she was with Owen. + +Thereafter Earl Owen defended the fountain with lance and sword against +all who ventured to challenge him in his earldom. And the knights who +were thus conquered he held to ransom, and the money he thus obtained +he divided equally among his barons and knights. Never had they had so +generous a lord, nor one of such prowess and knightly worth. And all +his subjects loved Earl Owen passing well. + +Thus for three years in all happiness and quiet did Owen and the +countess dwell. Sir Dewin of Castle Cower had not power to hurt them, +nor did any other evil light upon them. + +But at the end of this space, towards the close of a summer's day, Sir +Owen, by the magic whereby it was made known to him, knew that there +was a knight who challenged him at the fountain. So, putting on his +sky-blue armour, he went forth and found the knight. + +They rushed together, and the strange knight was overthrown. But others +who were with him took him away, and Sir Owen waited. But none other +challenge was made, and in the twilight he retired, resolved to attend +next day in case any others desired to challenge him. + +In the morning the same knight came forth from the company of knights +which was among the trees about the fountain. And so fiercely did Sir +Owen assail him that the head of his lance broke the helmet of the +stranger and pierced the flesh to the bone. Again his companions +carried him off. + +Then other knights came forth and had to do with Sir Owen, but all were +overthrown. At length came one having over himself and his horse a rich +satin robe of honour, and Sir Owen knew that he must be a man of great +dignity, big of body and of knightly prowess. + +They fought together that evening and half through the next day, but +neither could obtain the mastery. And about noon they took still +stronger lances and fought most stubbornly. At length they came so +furiously together that the girths of their horses were broken and both +were borne to the ground. + +They rose up speedily and drew their swords and resumed the combat; and +all those that witnessed it felt that they had never seen such a battle +of heroes before. And suddenly with a blow fiercely strong and swiftly +keen, Sir Owen cut the fastenings of the strange knight's helm, so that +the headpiece came off. + +With a cry Sir Owen dropped his weapon, for he knew that this was Sir +Gawaine, his cousin. + +'My Lord Gawaine,' he said, 'the robe of honour that covered thee +prevented my knowing it was thee with whom I fought. Take my sword and +my arms, for I yield me to thee.' + +'Nay, Sir Owen,' said Gawaine, 'take thou mine, for I am at thy mercy.' + +Then came forward King Arthur, and Sir Owen knew him and kneeled before +him and kissed his hand, and then embraced him. And there was much joy +between all the knights and Owen, for all had feared that he had been +slain, and the king in despair had come upon this adventure to learn +tidings of him. + +Then they all proceeded to the castle of the countess, and a great +banquet was prepared, with joustings and hawking parties and games. +They stayed three months in great happiness and diversion. + +At last, when King Arthur prepared to depart, he went to the countess +and besought her to permit Owen to go with him for the space of three +months, that he might renew his friendships at the court at Caerleon. +And though it made the countess sorrowful to lose the man she loved +best in all the world, she consented, and Owen promised to return even +before the time appointed. + +So King Arthur returned to Caerleon with Sir Owen, and there was much +feasting and diversion to welcome him. And his kindred and friends +tried to make Owen forget the countess and his earldom, but they could +not. For she was the lady he loved best in the world, and he would +liefer be with her, to guard and cherish her, than in any other place +on the surface of the earth. + +One night, as the court sat after dinner over the mead cups, a juggler +came into the hall and performed many tricks, and there was much +laughter and gaiety at his merry quips and jests. And he craved that he +might search the hands of each lord and lady present, so that he could +tell them if they would be happy in love. + +He began with Sir Kay, and so along the board, uttering merry thoughts +on all, but speaking with serious and solemn looks, until he came to +Sir Owen. And he looked long and earnestly at the marks in that +knight's palm, and then said, in a croaking voice: + + 'A night and a day, a night and a day! + Thou'lt grieve for thy love for ever and aye.' + +None knew what this might mean, and they marvelled to see how pale went +the face of Sir Owen. + +For he had suddenly remembered the words of Decet the troll-man, who +had said, 'Beware thee of leaving the side of her that shall love thee +for more than a night and a day, or long woe shall find thee.' + +Instantly Sir Owen rose from the board and went out. Going to his own +abode he made preparations, and at dawn he arose and mounted his horse, +and set forth swiftly to go to the dominions of the countess. Great was +his fear that some evil had befallen her in consequence of his leaving +her unprotected from the evil powers of Sir Dewin. + +He rode hard and fast northwards through the wild and desolate +mountains, until he saw the sea like burnished lead lying on his left +hand. + +Then he turned his horse's head away and rode far into the deep heart +of the land. But though he knew the way passing well, he could not find +the road now, and wandered up and down the lonely moorlands and the +dark forest rides, baffled and wearied, heartsick and full of dread. + +Thus he wandered, for ever seeking the way, and trying this one and +that, until all his apparel was worn out, and his body was wasted away +and his hair was grown long. And at length, from misery and +hopelessness, he grew so weak that he thought that he must die. + +Then he descended slowly from the mountains, and thought to find a +hermit, to whom he might tell all his misery before he died. But he +could not find any harbourage, and so he crawled to a brook in a park, +and sat there wondering why this evil fate had been visited upon him, +and grieving that now his beloved countess must be in wretchedness and +sorrow by reason of his forgetting, and that never more could he hope +to see her and tell her how grieved he had been to cause her such pain. + +Then in a little while he swooned under the heat of the sun, from +hunger and weakness, and lay half in and half out of the brook. + +It befell that a widowed lady, to whom the brook and the land belonged, +came walking in the fields with her maids. And one of them saw the +figure of Sir Owen and, half fearful, she went up to him and found him +faintly breathing. + +The widow lady had him taken into the farmstead of one of her tenants, +and there he was tended carefully until he came again to his senses. +And with the good care, meat, drink, and medicaments, he soon began to +thrive again. + +He asked the man of the house who it was that had brought him there. + +'It was our Lady of the Moors,' said the man sadly. 'And though she is +herself in sore straits and narrowly bestead by a cruel and oppressive +earl, who would rob her of these last few acres, yet she hath ever a +tender heart for those in greater distress than herself.' + +'It grieves me,' said Sir Owen, 'that the lady is oppressed by that +felon earl. He should be hindered, and that sternly.' + +'Ay,' said the man, 'he would cease his wrongful dealing if she would +wed him, but she cannot abide the evil face of him.' + +Ever and anon the Lady of the Moors sent one of her maidens to learn +how the stranger was progressing, and the maiden came one day when Sir +Owen was quite recovered, and she was greatly astounded to see how +comely a man he was, and how straight and tall and knightly was his +mien. + +As they sat talking, there came the jingle and clatter of arms, and, +looking forth, Sir Owen saw a large company of knights and men-at-arms +pass down the road. And he inquired of the maiden who these were. + +'That is the Earl Arfog and his company,' she said sadly. 'And he +goeth, as is his wont, to visit my mistress, and to insult her, and to +treat her unmannerly, and to threaten that he will drive her from the +one remaining roof-tree she possesses. And so will he and his knights +sit eating and drinking till night, and great will be my lady's sorrow +that she hath no one to protect her.' + +They talked of other things for a while, and then said Sir Owen: + +'Hath thy mistress a suit of armour, and a destrier in her possession?' + +'She hath indeed, the best in the world,' said the maiden, 'for they +belonged to her late husband, the Lord of the Moors.' + +'Wilt thou go and get them for me for a loan?' he asked. + +'I will,' said the maiden, and wondered what he would do with them. + +Before the day was passed there came a beautiful black steed, upon +which was a beechen saddle, and a suit of armour, both for man and +horse. And Owen armed himself, and when it was dark he went forth and +stationed himself under a great oak, where none could see him. + +When the earl, elated with insolence and wine, came back that way, +shouting and rolling in his saddle, Owen marked him as he rode. He +dashed out at him, and so fiercely swift was he, and so heavy were his +blows, that he had beaten to the earth those who were beside the earl, +and the earl he had dragged from the saddle and laid him across his +crupper, before the earl's companions were aware of what was done. + +As the countess sat in hall, sadly thinking how soon the craven earl +would thrust her out of her home, there came the beat of hoofs, the +great door of the manor swung open, and a tall knight in black armour +strode in, thrusting another knight before him. + +'I am the stranger whom ye rescued from death, my lady,' said Sir Owen, +bowing, 'and this is thy rascally enemy, the Earl Arfog. Look you, +churl in armour,' said Owen, shaking the other till every piece of +steel upon him rattled, 'if you do not instantly crave pardon humbly of +this lady, and restore unto her everything you have robbed of her, I +swear to you, by the name of the great Arthur, I will shear your head +from your shoulders.' + +In great terror the earl, who, since he oppressed women, was an abject +coward, sank upon his knees and promised to restore all he had ever +taken from the lady, as a ransom for his life; and for his freedom he +would give her many rich farms and manors, and hostages as surety. + +Two more days Sir Owen stayed at the manor to see that these things +were duly performed, and then he took his departure. + +'I would that you could stay with us,' said the lady, who was sweet and +gentle, with kindly eyes and a soft voice. + +'Lady, I may not,' said Sir Owen. 'I seek my dear wife and her +dominions, and have been seeking them these many months. But I fear me +some evil necromancy hath been reared against me, so that I may not +find her again, and she must be in much sorrow and misery in my +absence. And if I never see my lady in life again, yet must I seek for +her until I die.' + +'What is the name of your lady and of her dominions?' asked the lady. + +'She is the Lady Carol, Countess of the Fountain,' answered Owen. 'Do +you know aught of her, and in which direction her lands lie?' + +The lady caused inquiries to be made, and her foresters said that the +lady's lands of the fountain lay fifteen leagues beyond the mountains, +and that his way lay through the Wisht Wood, the Dead Valley, and the +Hill of the Tower of Stone, and only a knight of great valour could +hope to win through these places, which were the haunt of warlocks, +wizards, and trolls, and full of magic, both black and white. + +Joyously Sir Owen mounted his horse, glad to learn that now he might +hope to find his countess again, and the Lady of the Moors wished him +Godspeed, and looked after him long and earnestly till he disappeared +into a forest. + +He journeyed three days through the Wisht Wood, and many were the +dreadful things he saw and heard there, and great eyes, green and black +and yellow, peered at him from the bushes as he sat over his fire at +night. But he clasped the blue stone which the troll Decet had given +him, and naught could hurt him. + +On the fourth day he descended into the Dead Valley. And here he was +like to die, for the air was so thick, and filled with the poison of +witches who haunted there at night, that if he had not ridden fiercely +and fast through its deathly vapours, he could not have reached the +slopes of the Hill of the Tower of Stone, where the air was pure and +blew out of the clean sky. + +Long and toilsome and exceedingly steep was the way up the side of the +mountain, and many times Sir Owen thought he would have to sink down +for sheer weariness. And it was dark night before he reached level +ground, and he could not see where he was or what place he was in. + +But having said his prayers, fed his horse, and eaten from the scrip +which the Lady of the Moors had made up for him, he lay down beside a +thick bush and slept soundly. + +Many were the terrible sounds that came from far below, where fierce +witches and warlocks battled and tore each other in the Dead Valley; +but Sir Owen was so overcome that he awoke not. And just as the morning +broke, a great serpent issued from a rock near where he lay and crept +towards him to slay him. + +Sir Owen still lay asleep, and the huge creature reared his head to +strike. But at that moment a great brown bear, that had sat near Sir +Owen through the night, leaped forward with a fierce growl, and gripped +the serpent by the head. And the serpent hissed and writhed. + +With the noise of the struggle Sir Owen awoke, and marvelled to see the +two animals closed in deadly combat. He drew his sword and slew the +serpent, and having wiped his weapon, he went to his horse and led it +forward. + +But the bear followed him and played about him, as if it was a +greyhound that he had reared. And Sir Owen stopped and said: + +'This is a marvel, sir bear, that you would follow me gambolling, +because I slew the serpent. Are ye so grateful, then, or is it that ye +have been captive unto men, and are fain to see one in this desolate +waste?' + +The bear gambolled as if pleased to hear him speak, and went on a +little way and looked back as if to see that the knight was following. +And when Sir Owen would go another way, the bear stamped his foot, so +that at length, with a laugh, Sir Owen said he would follow the way he +wished. + +Wild was that place and rocky, full of great boulders and with deep +pits obscured by bushes. Full irksome was it to pass through, for +besides the slipperiness of the way, the sun shone pitilessly down, and +its heat was returned by the hard rocks. And there was no water. + +If the bear had not led him, Sir Owen would have missed his footing +many times, and been hurled down one of the many chasms that yawned +everywhere. + +At length Sir Owen became faint with hunger, and he dismounted and +tethered his horse to a leafless thorn. Then he went and lay in the +shadow of an enormous rock that reared up like a huge tower. And the +bear looked at him for a little while and then disappeared. + +Sir Owen wondered sadly whether he should ever win through the perils +that encompassed him, and see again the lady whom he loved best in all +the world. And weak with famine, he doubted whether he should not leave +his bones to bleach beside the great rock. + +Then he looked, and saw the bear coming towards him, and it carried a +roebuck, freshly slain, which it brought and laid at Sir Owen's feet. +The knight sprang up with a glad cry, and struck fire with his flint, +and the bear brought dried sticks, and soon a fire was blazing, and +juicy collops were spluttering on skewers before the fire. + +When Sir Owen had finished eating, the bear seemed to wish him to +follow him, and the bear led him to a brook in a little green patch, +and there the knight quenched his thirst. + +By now it was twilight again, and Sir Owen made up the fire and +prepared himself to slumber; and the bear lay down beside him and +blinked at the fire like a great dog. + +The knight saw the sun far in the west dip beneath a cloud, and a cold +wind blew across the waste. And then he heard a sigh from somewhere +behind him, and then another and again a third. And the sound seemed to +come from within the towering stone. + +He cried out, 'If thou art a mortal, speak to me! But if thou art some +evil thing of this waste, avaunt thee!' + +A voice, soft and sad, replied, 'A mortal I am indeed, but soon shall I +be dead, and as cold as the stone in which I am imprisoned, unless one +man help me.' + +The stone was so thick that the voices of both were muffled, so that +neither recognised the other. + +Sir Owen asked who it was who spoke to him. + +'I am Elined, handmaiden to the Lady of the Fountain,' was the reply. + +'Alas! alas!' cried Sir Owen. 'Then if thou art in so sore a pass, thou +who wouldst guard my lady till thy death, surely my dear lady is in a +worse pass? I am Owen, who won her in the jousts, and by evil fortune +left her for more than a night and a day, and never have I been able to +find my way back to my beloved lady. Tell me, damsel, what evil hath +befallen her, and how I may avenge it instantly?' + +'Glad I am, Sir Owen,' cried the maiden joyfully, 'to hear thou art +still in life, and that thou wert not faithless, as the evil Sir Dewin +said thou wert. 'Twas his evil magic that changed the landscape as thou +didst ride, and so hid the way from thee. Naught evil hath my lady +suffered yet, nor never will now if thou canst save me this night. But +he hath changed my brother, Decet of the Mound, into some monstrous +shape, and me he hath chained within this stone. Yet for seventy-seven +days my magic kept him from doing further ill to my lady and me; and +that space ends this midnight. Therefore am I glad that the good fate +hath led thee here. Now go thee and hide, until Sir Dewin and his two +evil sons come. And when they would make a fire whereon to burn me, do +thou cut them down and burn them, for so shall all their evil power be +stayed.' + +Much as Sir Owen wished to ask how his countess had fared through the +time of his absence, he stole away, after he had stamped out his fire. + +Towards midnight there came a great roaring wind, and a shower of +hailstones, and thunder and lightning, and he saw three great black +shapes descend from the sky. And he knew that these were the evil +wizard knights, Sir Dewin and his two sons. They alighted upon the hill +near the Tower of Stone, and took the shapes of men. + +Instantly they began to gather wood and to make a huge heap. And Sir +Dewin made witchfire, and began to light the pile. + +Then Sir Owen crept up in the dark, and the bear went with him. And as +the wizard bent to light the fire, Sir Owen raised his sword and +chopped off the wizard's head, so that it hopped into the fire. + +The bear had gone behind the two sons and now clawed them together, and +though they struggled fiercely to get loose, the bear hugged them so +tightly that they could not move. And Sir Owen slew them both with his +sword. + +Then together they heaped the three evil warlocks on the fire and saw +them burn. And when the last of them was consumed in the fierce heat of +the fire, Sir Owen felt a hand seize his, and, turning, he marvelled to +see Decet the Moundman smiling into his face. + +'Good luck hath been thy guide, sir knight,' said the troll, 'and thou +hath released me from the evil dumb shape into which this wizard did +change me. But all the happiness that hath been thine and shall be +thine again, thou owest to thy constancy and thy devotion to the lady +thou lovest best.' + +'Glad am I, good troll, to see thee again,' said Sir Owen, 'and glad +shall I be to see my dear lady again. Now let us release her faithful +handmaiden, thy sister.' + +With the master words which move the living rock, the troll caused the +stone to open, and Elined stepped forth, exceeding glad to see Sir Owen +and her brother again, and to feel the free air upon her cheeks. + +When it was morning they went on their way with great gladness. And +when they reached the City of the Fountain, the countess could not +speak for joy, and all her sadness fled, and in an hour her happiness +was greater than her misery had been for all the months of her sorrow. + +The bells throughout the city were set ringing, and there was public +rejoicing through the length and breadth of the land, for all were glad +exceedingly that their dear lady was happy, and that their lord was +come to his own again. + +Never again did Sir Owen leave his lady while she lived. Elined was +advanced to the place of Chief Lady of the Household, while Decet was +made Head Huntsman, because he loved the forest, and knew the ways of +every bird and beast that lived therein. + + + + +IX + +OF SIR LANCELOT AND THE FAIR MAID OF ASTOLAT + + +It befell on a time that King Arthur made proclamation of a great joust +and tournament which should be holden at Camelot fifteen days after the +Feast of the Assumption. The noise of it went forth throughout all the +king's dominions, and knights and barons, and earls and kings, made +haste to get them ready to go thither. + +Sir Lancelot had but lately been sore wounded, and told the king that +he could not hope to be at the joust, for fear that his wound might +break forth afresh. The king was much aggrieved thereat, and would fain +have made proclamation to put off the joust, but that many knights were +already set forth from distant places, and great would be the +disappointment. + +Therefore, on the day that the king was to journey from London to +Camelot, he set forth with a heavy heart. For though he knew there +would be many a brave onfall and stout bickering, yet, as Sir Lancelot +had become the most valiant knight in all the island of Britain, the +king had greatly desired that the knight should show how he excelled +all the doughty warriors that would come from all parts. + +When all the knights had gone from the king's palace in London, Sir +Lancelot pined in the great hall. The chatter of the ladies and the +tricks of the pages became irksome to him, and he began to think how +gay must be the company of the knights of the Round Table, as they rode +through the leafy country ways towards Camelot, with the great Arthur +at their head. + +'I will see the king's leech,' he said to himself, 'and bid him give me +some medicament that shall strengthen my wound. For I cannot abide that +I stay here like some toothless old hound, while his fellows are gone +to the hunting.' + +So Sir Lancelot betook him to the lodging of Morgan Todd, the king's +physician, but found that he too had gone with the king. + +When Sir Lancelot was turning away, sore aggrieved and angry, the man +that had opened the door to him cried: + +'Be not vexed, Sir Lancelot, for I wot well you would rather go with +the king than nurse that wound of thine. Come down, then, and let me +advise thee.' + +Sir Lancelot, thinking this would be the chief disciple or pupil of +Morgan Todd, dismounted, and followed the man that had spoken, who was +old and thin and gnarled, with beady black eyes. When he had examined +Sir Lancelot's wound, the old man smiled strangely, and said: + +'If ye take but common care of thy wound, 'twill not break out again, +but your heart was ever bigger than thy wit, sir knight. Thou wilt do +more than any other knight, and in thy strength ye may well maim +yourself.' + +'Then I may go to Camelot, to the jousting?' asked Sir Lancelot. + +'Ay, ye may go,' said the leech. 'But hearken. Stay not on thy way at +Astolat. If ye do so, ye shall leave so great a wound there on one that +will not harm thee, that the ill shall cause thee woe out of all +measure.' + +'Keep thy counsel, good leech,' said Sir Lancelot with a laugh. 'I hurt +none that desire not my hurt. And, for the rest, I will take the +adventure that God will send me.' + +Sir Lancelot set out forthwith, thinking naught of what the leech had +said. By eventide he came to Astolat, and, looking about for a lodging, +he suddenly remembered the words of the leech. + +'I will beg a lodging outside the town,' he said, gravely smiling. 'So +I do not stay in the town, I may escape the ill which the old croaker +spoke of.' + +He saw the manor-house of a baron beside the way, and begged a lodging +there for the night, which was freely and most courteously granted unto +him. The baron was an old man, of reverend aspect, named Sir Bernard, +and he welcomed Sir Lancelot warmly, though he knew him not. + +At meat they were all very merry, and with Sir Bernard were his two +sons, handsome youths, but lately made knights. There was also a young +damsel, named Elaine the Fair, the daughter of Sir Bernard; but Sir +Lancelot, though he saw how sweet and gentle she was, noted her not +overmuch. Neither she nor Sir Lavaine, the younger son, could bear to +take their eyes from the face of Sir Lancelot; for there was so +magnificent yet gentle an air about the great knight, that they deemed +he must be some very brave and noble warrior. + +Sir Lancelot told them it was in his mind to go to the jousts at +Camelot. Laughingly he turned to Sir Bernard, and said: + +'Fair sir, I would pray you to lend me a shield that may not be greatly +known, for mine has been too much seen by warriors.' + +'Sir,' replied the old baron, 'I will gladly give you your desire, for +I am sure you are one of the likeliest knights of the world. This, my +eldest son, Sir Tirre, whom you see hath yet the pallor of sickness, +was hurt on the day on which the great Sir Tristram of Lyones gave him +knighthood, and as he cannot now ride, ye shall have his shield.' + +'Sir, I thank you,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'for showing me such +friendship.' + +'And I would crave a service of you,' went on Sir Bernard. 'My younger +son here, Sir Lavaine, is eager to go out with some knight of proved +valour and prowess; and as my heart goeth unto you, and believeth ye to +be a knight of great nobility, I beseech you that you let him ride with +you to-morrow.' + +'I shall be pleased, indeed, to have the young knight to ride with me,' +replied Sir Lancelot. + +'Would it please you, sir,' asked Sir Bernard, 'to tell us your name?' + +'Not at this time, sir,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'but if God give me +grace at the jousts, and I win honour there, I will of a surety return +and tell you.' + +Sir Lancelot, with his nobleness and courtesy, and his tales of fair +ladies and brave knights, so won upon them all, that it was late ere +they each departed to their beds. The maiden Elaine thought that she +had never seen or heard of a knight so full of gentleness, yet withal +so martial of mien, as this stranger who would not tell his name. + +In the morning Sir Lancelot made himself ready to depart, and the maid +Elaine lingered long about her brother, and would never say that she +had really buckled the last strap of his armour. Then, when at length +she could keep them no longer, she came up to Sir Lancelot, with a face +all pale and red by turns, yet striving to laugh away her fear. + +'Sir,' she said, 'I wish you noble deeds at the jousts and much fame. +Sir, I have never had a knight wear favour of mine. Therefore, lord, +will you wear a token of mine in your helm for good fortune?' + +Lancelot looked down into the lovely face and smiled: + +'Fair damsel,' he said gently, 'if I granted you that, I should do more +for you than ever I have done for any dame or damsel living.' + +At that she thought he refused, and the tears sprang like jewels into +her blue eyes, and she turned away. + +Sir Lancelot was grieved to think his refusal hurt one that seemed so +sweet and gentle. Then he remembered that he desired to go to the +jousts disguised, and he bethought him that if he wore a lady's token +in his helm, no one would recognise him, for all knew that never would +he consent to wear such things in joust or tournament, as was the +custom of many knights. + +'Stay, fair damsel,' he said kindly, 'I will grant you to wear a token +of yours upon my helm. Therefore, bring it me.' + +Instantly the face of Elaine shone with joy and pride as she looked up +quickly at the great steel-clad figure on the horse beside her. Then, +quickly running, she brought what she had in her mind he should wear. + +'See,' she said, giving it into his hand, 'it is a sleeve of mine, of +scarlet samite, embroidered with great pearls.' + +'I will wear it at the jousts, fair maiden,' said he, 'for the sake of +the kindness you and yours have shown me. And will you keep the shield +which is mine own against the time when I shall return? For I will take +thy brother's.' + +'I will keep it in my own room,' said Elaine, 'and will see that it +doth not tarnish.' + +Then Sir Lancelot and young Sir Lavaine rode forth, each bearing a +white shield, as if both were young knights who had not yet done some +deed, in memory whereof they could blazon a device upon their shields. + +So they rode to Camelot, where they found the narrow streets of the +little town packed with the press of knights, dukes, earls and barons +come to take part in the jousts. Sir Lancelot got them lodgings with a +rich burgess, and so privily and closely did they keep the house that +none knew that they were there. + +On the day of the jousts the trumpets began to blow in the field where +they should be held. King Arthur sat on a great scaffold which was +raised at one end, to judge who did best in the jousting. So great was +the press of folk, both noble and common, earls and chiefs, that many +did marvel to think that the realm of Britain held so many people. + +The knights held themselves in two parties and went to either end of +the lists. Some called themselves the band of Arthur, and would fight +all comers; and among them was Sir Palomides, Sir Conn of Ireland, Sir +Sagramore, Sir Kay the seneschal, Sir Griflet, Sir Mordred, Sir +Gallernon, and Sir Saffre, all knights of the Round Table. On the other +side were the King of Northgales, the King of Swordlands, Sir Galahalt +the Proud, and other knights of the north. These were the smaller +party, yet were they very valiant knights. + +Sir Lancelot made him ready with the others, and fashioned the red +sleeve upon his helm. But it was in his mind to see which party fared +the worse before he would choose his part; for ever Sir Lancelot liked +a task which was not easy. + +So he rode forth with Sir Lavaine into a little wood upon a knoll, +whence they could look into the lists and see the knights hurtle and +crash together. Soon they saw the knights of King Arthur's band come +against the northern knights, and many of the latter were smitten down. +Then he saw how the King of the Northgales and the King of Swordlands +with a few knights made a bold and brave stand against the many knights +of King Arthur's Round Table. + +'See,' said Sir Lancelot to Sir Lavaine, 'how that company of knights +hold out against that great press! They are like brave boars in the +midst of the hounds.' + +'Ye say truth,' said Sir Lavaine; 'they are indeed brave souls.' + +'Now,' said Sir Lancelot, 'if you will help me a little, you may see +that great company go back more quickly than they came forward.' + +'Sir, spare not,' said the young knight, 'and I will do what I may.' + +Sir Lancelot spurred forward into the lists, and so fierce was his +onslaught and so hard was his blow that with one spear he overthrew Sir +Sagramore, Sir Kay, Sir Griflet and Sir Saffre, and with another spear +he smote down five others. Thereupon the northern knights were much +comforted, and greeted the strange knight full courteously, though they +wondered that he had but a white shield. + +Then the band of Arthur's knights took counsel and gathered together +Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lionel, Sir Blamore and five others. +These were all mighty knights and all were great fighters and close kin +to Sir Lancelot. They resolved to rebuke the two stranger knights with +white shields whom they knew not; and chiefly him with the lady's +sleeve upon his helm did they seek to bring to the dust. + +Again the knights hurtled mightily together, and Sir Bors, Sir Ector, +and Sir Lionel drove at Sir Lancelot, and so great was their force that +they smote Sir Lancelot's horse to the ground. By ill hap, the spear of +Sir Bors pierced through his cousin's shield into his side, and the +head of the lance broke off and remained in the wound. + +Then Sir Lavaine, seeing his friend prone, did mightily assault Sir +Mordred, who was on the other side, and hurled him to the ground; and, +bringing Sir Mordred's horse to Sir Lancelot, he helped him to mount. + +Sir Lancelot was exceeding wroth, and took a great strong spear, and +smote Sir Bors, both horse and knight, to the ground; and likewise he +served Sir Ector and Sir Lionel, and four other knights. The others +retreated, for they feared his great strength. + +'I marvel who is that knight that hath the red sleeve in his helm?' +said King Arthur to Sir Gawaine, who sat with him. + +'Sir,' said the other, 'he will be known ere he depart.' + +When the king caused the trumpet to sound the end of the day's +jousting, the heralds cried that the prize was to go to the knight with +the red sleeve. But when the northern knights came to Sir Lancelot and +would have him go to the king and take the prize, he said: + +'Fair lords, let me depart, I pray you. For I have bought my victory +with my life; and now I would rather have quiet than all the wealth of +the world.' + +Forthwith he galloped away with Sir Lavaine until they came to a great +forest; and then Sir Lancelot groaned and said he could no further go, +and forthwith he fell from his horse in a great swoon. Sir Lavaine went +to find water in the wood, and had to go far ere he found it. But +presently he saw a clearing, and there was a little hermitage and a +stream running by. Sir Lavaine called the hermit, who was a man full +reverend and noble of aspect, and told him how his friend lay in a +deathly swoon. + +In a little while they had brought Sir Lancelot to the hermitage, where +the hermit took out the head of the spear and bound up the wound and +gave to the knight a strong cordial. Anon he was refreshed and came to +his senses again. + +At the lodging of the king in Camelot, men spoke of the jousts, and +wondered who might be the knight who had won the prize and who had been +injured, as the northern knights had reported. Though King Arthur had +it in his mind that it had been Sir Lancelot, he hoped it was not, for +it grieved him much to think that Sir Lancelot was so badly wounded. + +Next day the court journeyed towards London, and rested for the night +at Astolat; and the town being full, it chanced that Sir Gawaine went +to the manor of Sir Bernard, which lay just outside the city. When he +had dined, the old knight Sir Bernard began to speak to him, and to ask +who had done the best at the jousts at Camelot. + +Ever since he had arrived, Sir Gawaine had seen how the fair girl, the +daughter of the knight, who had attended upon him, was pale and +thoughtful; and now she looked white and red by turns as he began to +speak. + +'There were two knights,' said Sir Gawaine, 'who each bore a white +shield, and one had a red sleeve upon his helmet.' + +Sir Gawaine saw how the damsel clasped her hands together, and her face +lit up with a great light and her eyes were bright and proud. + +'And I swear that never saw I so valiant and stout a knight as he,' +said Sir Gawaine. 'For I dare swear that he beat down twenty knights of +the Round Table, and his fellow also did well.' + +'Now, blessed be God,' said the fair maid of Astolat, with a great cry +of joy, 'that the good knight sped so well; for he is the one man in +the world whom I have ever loved, and truly he shall be the last man +that ever after I shall love.' + +'Then do ye know his name?' asked Sir Gawaine. + +'Nay, I know it not,' said Elaine, 'nor whence he came. But I know that +I love him and none other.' + +Then they told Sir Gawaine how they had first had knowledge of the +strange knight; and the damsel said that he had left her his shield in +place of the white one he had taken, so that none should know him. Sir +Gawaine begged that she would fetch it from her chamber. + +Elaine brought it and drew it from the case of leather in which she had +wrapped it, and said, 'See, there is no spot of rust upon it, for I +have cleaned it with my own hands every day.' + +'Alas,' said Sir Gawaine, when he saw the device upon the shield, 'now +is my heart full heavier than it hath ever been.' + +'Why, oh why?' cried Elaine, and stood pale and breathless. + +'Is the knight that owneth that shield your love?' asked Gawaine. + +'Yes, truly,' said the maiden, 'I love him'; and then sadly she said, +'but would that he should tell me that I was also his love.' + +'How ever that be,' said Sir Gawaine, 'you should know that you love +the noblest knight in all the world, the most honourable and one of the +most worth.' + +'So thought me ever,' said the maid of Astolat, proudly smiling; 'for +never have I seen a knight that I could love but that one.' + +'And never hath he borne token or sign of any lady or gentlewoman +before he bore thine,' said Sir Gawaine. + +At these words the maid Elaine could have swooned for very joy, for she +deemed that Sir Lancelot had borne her token for love of her. +Therefore, she was cast more deeply in love with him than ever. + +'But I dread me,' went on Sir Gawaine, 'for I fear we may never see him +in this life again.' + +'Alas! alas!' cried Elaine, throwing herself at the feet of the knight, +and clutching his arm tightly, while she gazed with terror into his +face. 'How may this be? oh, say not--say not that he is--is----' + +She could not say the word, but Sir Gawaine made answer. + +'I say not so, but wit ye well that he is grievously wounded.' + +'Alas!' cried Elaine, 'what is his hurt? Where is he? Oh, I will go to +him instantly.' + +She rose, wildly ringing her slender hands. + +'Truly,' said Sir Gawaine, who, though a great warrior, was a slow +talker, and had no thought of the sorrow of the poor maid, 'the man +that hurt him was one that would least have hurt him had he known. And +when he shall know it, that will be the most sorrow that he hath ever +had.' + +'Ah, but say,' cried Elaine, 'where doth my lord lie wounded?' + +'Truly,' replied Gawaine, 'no man knoweth where he may lie. For he went +off at a great gallop, and though I and others of King Arthur's knights +did seek him within six or seven miles of Camelot, we could not come +upon him.' + +'Now, dear father,' said the maid Elaine, and the tears welled from her +eyes, 'I require you give me leave to ride and seek him that I love, or +else I know well that I shall go out of my mind, for I may never rest +until I learn of him and find him and my brother Sir Lavaine.' + +So the maid Elaine made her ready, weeping sorely, and her father bade +two men-at-arms go with her to guard and guide her on her quest. + +When she came to Camelot, for two days was her seeking in vain, and +hardly could she eat or sleep for her trouble. It happened that on the +third day, as she crossed a plain, she saw a knight with two horses, +riding as if he exercised them; and by his gestures she recognised him +at length, and it was her brother. She spurred her horse eagerly, and +rode towards Sir Lavaine, crying with a loud voice: + +'Lavaine, Lavaine, tell me how is my lord, Sir Lancelot?' + +Her brother came forward, rejoicing to see her, but he asked how she +had learned that the stranger knight was Sir Lancelot, and she told +him. + +'My lord hath never told me who he was,' said Lavaine, 'but the holy +hermit who hath harboured him knew him and told me. And for days my +lord has been wandering and distraught in his fever. But now he is +better.' + +'It pleaseth me greatly to hear that,' said Elaine. + +When Sir Lavaine took her into the room where lay Sir Lancelot so sick +and pale in his bed, she could not speak, but suddenly fell in a swoon. +And when she came to her senses again she sighed and said: + +'My lord, Sir Lancelot, alas, why are ye in so sad a plight?' + +Therewith she almost swooned again. But Sir Lancelot prayed Sir Lavaine +to take her up and bring her to him. And she came to herself again, and +Sir Lancelot kissed her, and said: + +'Fair maid, why fare ye thus? It hurts me to see your sorrow, for this +hurt of mine is of little account to cause you to grieve in this wise. +If ye come to minister to me, why, ye are truly welcome, and ye shall +quickly heal me, by the grace of God, and make me whole again.' + +'I would gladly serve you till you are well again,' said the maid. + +'I thank you, fair Elaine,' replied the knight, 'but I marvel how ye +knew my name?' + +'It was by Sir Gawaine, fair lord,' said the damsel, 'for he lodged at +my father's house and saw your shield.' + +Sir Lancelot's heart was heavy at these words, for he foreboded sorrow +from this adventure. + +Afterwards the maid Elaine never went from Sir Lancelot, but watched +him day and night, and gave such comfort to him that never woman did +more kindly nurse a wounded man than she. + +Sir Lancelot was full courteous and kindly in his turn, never giving +more trouble than he could avoid; both were of good cheer and merry +together, for Sir Lancelot deemed not as yet that the maid loved him +deeply, and the maid was glad to be with him and to do him all the +service that she could. + +Then in a little while came Sir Bors, the knight who had wounded Sir +Lancelot, who was also his cousin, and Sir Bors lamented sorely that +his had been the arm that had given his kinsman so sore a wound. But +Sir Lancelot prayed him not to grieve, and said: + +'I have that which I deserved, for in my pride I was nigh slain, for +had I given thee, my cousin, warning of my being there, I had not been +hurt. Therefore, let us leave off speaking thereof, and let us find +some remedy so that I may soon be whole.' + +'Fair cousin,' said Sir Bors, as he leaned on the bed, speaking in a +low voice, 'there is one nigh thee, or I am much in error, that will +not know whether to be glad or sorry when thou shalt be hale enough to +ride away.' + +'What dost thou mean?' asked Sir Lancelot. + +'Is this she that is so busy about thee--is she the lady that men call +the Lily Maid of Astolat?' + +'She it is,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'and kindlier nurse hath never man +found.' + +'It is easy to see she loveth her task,' said Sir Bors, and he was full +of pity and kindness for the fair meek maid, 'seeing that she loveth +thee.' + +'Nay, man, nay, that cannot be,' said Sir Lancelot, half angry, half +denying. 'She hath come to me because I was sick, and because I wore +her token in my helm, that's all.' + +'Wise art thou in all knightly prowess, Sir Lancelot,' said Sir Bors, +'and full courteous and kindly art thou to all ladies and damsels. But +I fear thou knowest not the heart of this fair maid. For it hath been +easy for me to see by her looks this way how she is jealous of my +talking to thee, and I know from her diligence about thee that she +loveth thee with all her heart.' + +'If that be so, then, by Heaven, I sorrow it is so,' said Sir Lancelot +heavily. 'And I must send her from me forthwith.' + +'Why shouldst thou do that, fair cousin?' said Sir Bors. 'She is a +passing fair damsel and well taught, and I would that thou couldst love +her in return. But as to that, I may not nor dare not counsel thee. For +I know that love blows where it listeth and will be forced by none.' + +'It repenteth me sorely,' said Sir Lancelot, and he was heavy in spirit +thereafter, and was eager to get whole again and to go away. + +In four or five days he made a plot with Sir Bors, that he should rise +and clothe himself in his armour and get upon his horse, and in this +way show to the hermit and to the maid Elaine that indeed and in truth +he was strong enough to ride forth. Therefore they made excuses and +sent both the hermit and the maid away into the forest to gather herbs. + +Sir Lancelot rose from his bed, and Sir Bors helped him to put on his +armour and to mount his horse. And so eager was the knight to feel that +he was hale again that he put his lance in rest and spurred his horse, +and so furiously did he ride across the mead, as if he rode at a +knight, that of a sudden his wound broke out again, and he swooned and +fell from his horse to the ground. + +Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine made great sorrow and dole as they raised him +and carried him back to the hermitage. It befell that Elaine, who had +not gone far, heard their cries and came running swiftly, and seeing +Sir Lancelot borne between them pale as with death, she cried and wept +and kneeled beside him, and put her arms about his neck and kissed him +many times, and called to him to wake him. + +'O traitors that ye are,' she cried to her brother and to Sir Bors, +'why have ye let him go from his bed? Oh, if ye have slain him I will +denounce you for his murderers.' + +Therewith came the holy hermit and was right wroth, and they put Sir +Lancelot to bed again, and the hermit stanched the wound and gave the +knight a cordial, so that he awoke out of his swoon. + +'Why have you put your life in jeopardy thus?' asked the hermit. + +'For that I weary of being here,' said Sir Lancelot, 'and I would ride +forth again.' + +'Ah, Sir Lancelot,' said the hermit, 'your heart and your courage will +never be done till your last day. But now ye must do as I command, and +stay till I say ye are hale again.' + +Soon after this Sir Bors departed, and the hermit promised that if he +came back in a month, Sir Lancelot would be ready to depart with him. +Thus Sir Lancelot stayed in the hermitage, and ever did the fair maid +Elaine labour with diligence day and night to heal and comfort him, and +to keep the time from wearying him. And never was child meeker to her +parent, nor wife kinder to her husband, nor mother sweeter and more +tender to her child, than Elaine was to Sir Lancelot. + +The knight sorrowed that this was so; and he ever bore himself +courteous, but not familiar in speech, for it grieved him that he had +no love in his heart for her, however deep might be her love for him. + +When the month was over, Sir Bors returned and found Sir Lancelot +walking about the forest, hale and strong again and eager to be riding. + +In a day they all made them ready to depart from the hermit, and to go +to King Arthur's court, which was then in London. The Lily Maid went +with them, sad that all her loving care was now ending, but glad to see +the noble air with which Sir Lancelot bestrode his horse, and thankful +that sometimes, as they rode upon their way, he turned to her smiling +gravely, and spoke of the bright sunlight, the birds and trees they +saw, and the company and travellers they passed. + +Then they came to Astolat, and Sir Bernard gave them all great welcome, +and they were well feasted and well lodged. + +On the morrow, when they should depart, the maid Elaine was pale and +very quiet, until Sir Lancelot came into the hall to say farewell. Then +the maid, bringing her father and her two brothers with her, went up to +Sir Lancelot and said: + +'My lord, now I see that ye will depart. But oh, do thou have mercy +upon me, for I must say that which damsels and gentlewomen are not used +to say.' + +Sir Lancelot with grave sad face looked at her and knew what she would +say, and in very heaviness of spirit replied: + +'Lady, it grieves me that I have unwittingly put such grief upon you.' + +'O fair and gracious knight, suffer me not to die for love of you,' +cried Elaine, and looked most piteously and wanly upon him. 'Oh, I +would have none but you to be my husband.' + +'Fair damsel,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'heavy is my grief to refuse you, +but I have not turned my mind to marriage.' + +'Alas,' said Elaine, and smiled sadly, 'then there is no more to be +said.' + +'Fair maid, I would that you will seek some knight more worthy of you,' +said Sir Lancelot. 'When I am gone, do you set your heart upon some +friend or kinsman; and for all the kindness ye have shown me, I will +settle upon you a thousand pounds yearly.' + +'Oh, of all this,' said the Lily Maid, 'I will have none; for if ye +will not love me, wit ye well, Sir Lancelot, my happy days are done.' + +'Say it not, fair maid,' said the knight, 'for many years and much love +should be yours.' + +But with a cry Elaine fell to the ground in a swoon, and her +gentlewomen bore her into her chamber and sorrowed over her. + +In great heaviness Sir Lancelot would depart, and went to his horse to +mount it; and Sir Lavaine went with him. + +'What would you do?' asked Sir Lancelot of him. + +'What should I do,' said Sir Lavaine, 'but follow you, unless you drive +me from you?' + +'I cannot do that, so come with me,' said Sir Lancelot. + +Then came Sir Bernard unto the knight and said, lifting his grey head +and wrinkled and reverend face to Sir Lancelot as he bestrode his +horse: + +'Sir, I think my daughter Elaine will die for your sake. For ever was +she quiet, but strong in mood and of a very fond heart.' + +'It must not be,' said Sir Lancelot, 'but do thou cheer her, and when I +am gone she will forget me. Never did I do or say aught but what a good +knight should, and never made as if I cared for her. But I am right +sorry for her distress, for she is a full fair maid, good and gentle, +and sweet of voice and mood.' + +'Father,' said Sir Lavaine, 'my sister Elaine doeth as I do. For since +I first saw my lord Lancelot, I could never depart from him, nor never +will if I may follow him.' + +Night and day did the fair maid Elaine sorrow in silence, so that she +never slept, ate or drank. At the end of ten days her ghostly father +bade her leave such grief and change her thoughts. + +'Nay,' she said, 'I may not, and I would not if I could. And I do no +sin to love the most peerless knight in all the world, the most gentle +and courteous of men, and the greatest in all nobility. Therefore, as I +know I may not live, do thou shrive me, good father, for I must needs +pass out of this world.' + +Then she confessed her sins and was shriven. And anon she called her +father and her brother, Sir Tirre, and begged that they would do as she +desired as to her burial, and they promised. + +In a little while she died, and a letter was put into her cold hand, +and she was placed in a fair bed, with all the richest clothes she had +about her. Then they carried her on the bed in a chariot, slowly, with +many prayers and with much weeping, to the Thames, and there they put +her and the bed in a barge. + +Over all the bed and the barge, except her fair face, was placed a +cloak of black samite, and an old and faithful servant of the house +stepped into the barge to guide it. + +They let it go from them with great grief, and the aged man steered it +down the river towards London, where was the court of Arthur. + +It happened that, as the king and his queen were looking from a window +of the palace which looked upon the Thames, they saw the black barge, +and marvelled what it might mean. + +The king made the barge to be held fast, and took the queen's hand, and +with many knights went down to the water's edge, and there they saw a +fair gentlewoman lying on a rich bed, and she lay as if she slept. + +The king took the letter gently from the fair hand which held it, and +went into his court, and ordered all his knights to assemble, and then +opened the letter and read what was written. The words were these: + +'Most noble knight, my lord Sir Lancelot du Lake, now hath death come +to me, seeing that you would not give me your love. Yet do thou do this +little thing I ask, now that I am dead, for I ask thee to pray for my +soul and to bury me, and think of me sometimes. Pray for my soul and +think of me, as thou art a knight peerless and most gentle.' + +Sir Lancelot heard it word by word and went pale as ashes, so that men +marvelled to see his sorrow. When it was finished, he said: + +'My lord, King Arthur, wit ye well that I am right heavy for the death +of this fair damsel. God knoweth that I was never causer of her death +by my will, as her brother Sir Lavaine here will avouch for me. She was +both fair and good, and exceeding kind to me when I was wounded; but +she loved me out of all measure, and of that I was sore heavy.' + +'Ye might have loved her,' said the queen, weeping for sorrow at the +hapless fate of one so fair and fond. + +'Madam,' said Sir Lancelot, 'I could not be constrained to love her, +but I sorrow for her death exceedingly.' + +'Truth it is,' said the king, 'that love is free and never will be +forced, for all the prayers that may be said to it. But thou wilt of +thy worship bury this fair maid, Sir Lancelot?' + +'That will I do,' said the knight, 'and in all richness and solemnity.' + +Thus was it done, and all the knights of the Round Table sorrowfully +followed the body of the fair Elaine to the grave. + +On her tomb in letters of gold both thick and deep were set the words: + +'Here lieth the body of Elaine, the Lily Maid of Astolat, who died of a +passing great love' + + + + +X + +HOW THE THREE GOOD KNIGHTS ACHIEVED THE HOLY GRAAL + + +Now the time drew nigh which had been foretold by Merlin, before he had +been snared by a greater wizardry than his, and buried alive beneath +the great stone in the forest of Broceliande. + +He had prophesied that, with the coming of King Arthur, the island of +Britain should grow in strength and fame, and her knights should be +more valiant and more pure in word and deed than the knights of any +other land. But that, in a little while, they would become proud, and +finding that none could withstand them, they would use their strength +evilly. + +To the court of King Arthur, as he sat in London, came tidings of how +his barons warred with each other in remoter parts of his dominions, +seizing the strong castles of each other, putting one another to death, +and forsaking the ways of the Holy Church of Christ and turning to the +idolatry of the old British pagans, some of whom still lurked and +performed their evil rites in the desolate and secret places of the +forests and the hills. + +The heart of the king was heavy as he sat thinking, and he wondered why +this evil was entering into the hearts of his knights and barons. He +resolved to take good counsel, and therefore commanded his clerk to +come to him and bade him write down all his thoughts. + +Then he gave the letter to a trusty knight, named Sir Brewis, and bade +him take it to the Archbishop of Britain, where he sat, an old and +feeble man, in his great cathedral of St. Asaph, far on the verge of +the western sea. He was the king's kinsman, and already known for his +great sanctity as St. David. In a month the knight brought back the +answer, which was in these words: + +'The time draws nigh for the trial and testing of Britain. Three good +knights shall come to you, and you must pray that their spirit shall +spread like fire in the hearts of all your knights. You shall have all +my prayers, dear kinsman, and I bid you say to all your knights, "Watch +and Pray."' + +A few days later, when the king sat in hall before the great fire, for +it was passing cold and the wintry wind snarled at the windows, the +great door was flung open, and into the hall came three men bearing a +wounded knight in armour upon his shield. When they had set him down, +the knights that were with the king knew him for Sir Kay the seneschal, +and Sir Kay looked sourly about him, and bade those that carried him +take him to his pallet and fetch a leech, and not stand gaping like +fools. + +'How now,' said Sir Gawaine, 'who hath tumbled thee, Sir Kay?' + +'A fool whose head I will rase from his shoulders when I am hale +again,' snapped Sir Kay, as he was borne away to his bed. + +Then into the hall came a troll, and after the troll came a knight +dressed all in white armour, who, going towards the king, knelt at his +feet. + +'Sir,' the knight said, 'I would that ye make me a knight.' + +'Of what lineage have ye come?' asked the king. + +'I am the only son left to my mother,' replied the knight, 'and she is +the widow of Earl Evroc of the Wolds.' + +'Ah,' said the king, and frowned, 'was he one of those turbulent lords +of the north that now slay and war as if they were kin to the pagans, +and threaten to bring ruin into my kingdom?' + +'Nay, lord,' said the young knight, 'my father hath been dead these +twenty years.' + +'Then what is your name? What have ye done to deserve knighthood?' +asked the king, who was angry at the hurt his old friend and +foster-brother Kay had received. + +'Sir, I am Perceval who slew the Dragon Knight, and I am not yet made a +knight.' + +All those that stood there cried out in joy, and King Arthur raised the +young knight from his knees and kissed him on both cheeks. + +'Fair young warrior, I knew ye not,' said the king, 'and I repent me my +churlish speech. We all have heard your great deeds, and much have I +longed to see ye, and many reproaches gave I to Sir Kay, whose churlish +manner thrust you from my hall.' + +'Sir,' said Perceval, when he had clasped the hands of the knights, all +of whom were eager to know him, 'I vowed that I would not come to you +until that I had avenged the blow which Sir Kay had given to my good +friend Tod, who is my squire, and good fortune brought Sir Kay to me, +or perhaps it was the will of Heaven. For as I came riding hitherwards +this morning, I saw in the snow where a hawk had torn a thrush, and the +blood lay on the whiteness of the ground. I stopped and gazed upon it, +for I thought of the white life of Christ who gave His blood to save us +all. Then I wondered whether the blood that He had shed upon the cruel +Cross would ever be so pitiful a thing in men's minds that this dear +Britain of ours would be rid of the evil which seems to be creeping +into it, and in place thereof would turn as white as the sheets of snow +that now lay over all the fields and ways. As I thought thus, I sank +deeper and deeper in my thoughts. Suddenly I felt one strike me on the +arm with the flat of his sword. I turned and saw a knight, who asked me +why I gaped like a mooncalf at the torn bird. I told him it was my +pleasure so to do. He asked if it was my pleasure to have to do with +him, but I said I would liefer pursue my thoughts again. Nevertheless, +he would not let me in quiet, and I drew my sword and beat him in my +anger to the ground. When my squire unlaced his helm he knew him for +Sir Kay, and told some passing men to bear him unto the court. + +'So have I punished him both for the insult to my friend and squire and +to myself.' + +Men marvelled at the quiet speech and gentle looks and manners of one +whose fame for great deeds was in all men's mouths; and Sir Gawaine +said: + +'Of a truth, young chieftain, it had served Sir Kay rightly if ye had +slain him, and he should thank thee for sparing him.' + +The other knights agreed that Sir Kay had done most unknightly in thus +picking a quarrel with one who had not offended, and he had merited +defeat. + +Thereupon King Arthur knighted Perceval, and they made him great cheer +and welcome; and the king knew in his heart that this was one of the +three good knights whom St. David had spoken of, and he wondered who +were the other two. + +It chanced that seven nights before, the good Sir Bors had fared forth +from the court of Arthur to seek knightly adventures. And his spirit +was joyful as he rode, for he felt that some great adventure was to +come to him, howbeit he knew not why he felt this was to be. + +Northward he fared through the land, and the snow had not yet fallen, +but so mild was the season that men's thoughts had stirred towards +spring. For many days he journeyed and the ways were more lonely, the +country more desolate, the rocky hills more bare. He wondered why it +was that the land seemed so forsaken, as if the folk had long since +left the fields to become solitary wastes. + +At length it befell that one evening he could find no place wherein to +shelter for the night; there was no hermit's cell nor castle nor +knight's hold through all the way by which he had come that day. +Towards twilight he came upon a wide moor, and the cold moon peered at +him over the distant mountains. Far in the midst of the waste he saw a +great pile, as of a castle, and pricked his horse towards it. + +It was indeed a castle, but its walls were broken and mossy, as if long +years had passed since it housed fire and gay company. He rode over the +drawbridge into the great courtyard, and the echo of his horse's +hoofbeats was the only sound that greeted him. + +He sought the upper chambers, and found in one a rough bed of fern +leaves, and, having supped from the scrip he carried with him, he +composed himself to sleep, glad that at least a roof and thick walls +shielded him from the freezing cold which now swept over the land. + +Forthwith he slept; but at midnight he awoke and found it was deeply +dark, and looking to the arrow slit in the wall he sought some friendly +star. As he looked, a great red light burst through, and with that +there came, thrusting fiercely, a great spear like a long flame, which +darted at him, and then stayed just before him. The point of it burned +blue and dazzling. + +As he lay marvelling, the spear went back a space; then he grasped his +sword that lay beside him, but before he could defend himself the +flaming spear dashed forward again and smote him in the shoulder. + +Then the spear went back and the chamber was deep dark again, and for +very pain Sir Bors lay and groaned. Nor could he sleep more that night. +When it was dawn he arose, thinking to ride forth, but when he went +down into the courtyard to saddle his horse in the stable, he marvelled +to see that where there had been an open ruined gateway the night +before, was now a great black oaken door, spiked and bolted. + +For a long time he essayed by every means to get himself out of that +castle, but he could not find a way. Yet never did he hear or see aught +that showed that any one lived there. Many times he went throughout the +place, but never found aught but ruin and emptiness, and the dust and +darkness of long neglect everywhere. + +When three days had gone, Sir Bors was faint with the pain of his wound +and the hunger with which he suffered. Then, as he sat beside his horse +in its stall, he suddenly heard the clank of armour, and going forth +into the courtyard saw a knight all armed, with his shield on his +shoulder and his sword naked in his hand. + +Without a word the stranger darted at him, and hardly did Sir Bors have +time to dress his shield; and then they lashed mightily at each other, +and thrust and hewed sorely. Thus for half the day they fought, and so +fiercely that soon Sir Bors had many wounds, so that blood oozed from +the joints of his armour. But the other knight seemed to be unharmed, +and never seemed to breathe heavily. Then Sir Bors became extremely +wroth, and beat so fiercely upon the other that he pressed him always +backward until the stranger was nigh to the door of a chamber which +opened into the courtyard; and suddenly he dashed backwards into the +chamber and shut the door. + +Nor would he come forth, for all that Sir Bors called him coward and +recreant. Nor would he answer one word, nor had he said one word since +Sir Bors had seen him. + +After some time Sir Bors resolved to go back and rest himself beside +his horse, for his great wounds burned him sorely; but as he turned, +suddenly, without a sound, the stranger knight dashed forth, and struck +a felon blow at the good knight's neck. But Sir Bors was aware of him +in time and defended himself full well. + +So fiercely did Sir Bors lay on, that soon the other was beaten to his +knees, and then the good knight rushed at him to hurl him headlong and +to slay him. Suddenly the other knight seemed to fall together as if +dead; but the armour sounded hollow as it fell, and Sir Bors marvelled. + +Swiftly he hacked the fastenings of the helm and tore it from the neck +armour. Then a great fear seized and shook him. The armour was empty! + +He knew then that he had fought with a demon. He crossed himself and +prayed, and weak with deadly fear and his wounds, he went into the +stall and sat beside his horse, and marvelled how he could win with +life from the fell power that seemed to hold him prisoner. + +Suddenly, from a dark cavernous hole in the dungeons, came a great +boar, with curving tusks keen as sword-blades, and rushed at Sir Bors +full fiercely. Hardily did the knight defend himself from the strength +and the fierce rushes of the great beast. The boar with its long tusks +tore the shield from the grasp of Sir Bors, and slashed his shield arm +sorely, and then Sir Bors was wroth, and with a very fierce blow he +smote off the boar's head. Immediately thereupon, with the pain of his +many wounds and the weakness of his famine, Sir Bors fainted, and lay +upon the frozen snow as one dead. For long he stayed thus ere he +revived, and then he rose and dragged himself into the stall where lay +his horse, half dead with hunger, before an empty manger. + +All that night Sir Bors lay in a sad pass, for he thought that now he +would never see dawn again in life. He prayed and commended his soul to +God, and confessed his sins and prepared himself for death as behoved a +good knight; and thereafter he slept sweetly. + +At the dawn he awoke, exceeding hungry, and looking forth into the +court he had it in his mind to carve meat from the dead boar. But he +was astounded beyond measure to find that it was not there. In its +place was a great trencher of steaming hot collops of meat, and toasted +bread, with hot milk in great plenty. + +Sir Bors ran towards the food, and so ravenous was his hunger that he +would have devoured it instantly. But he bethought him before he had +placed any of it to his lips, and dropping it he crossed himself and +ran back into the stall and tried not to look forth. He knew that the +food was placed there by some fell fiend or demon to tempt him, and if +he ate of that unholy food, his soul would be for ever lost. + +Anon sweet voices sounded in the courtyard as if to attract him forth, +and the smell of the hot food was wafted strongly into the stable. The +fiends themselves could not enter, for there was a horse-shoe hung in +the proper way upon the lintel of the door, and, moreover, Sir Bors had +stuck his sword-point in the ground, and the holy sign of the cross +prevented the evil things from crossing the threshold. + +All that day did Sir Bors lie half dying, while the fiends tempted him, +but the knight was too strong and manful of soul to yield, and would +liefer die than become the slave of the powers of the Netherworld. + +Then in the twilight he commended his soul to God, for he felt near to +death. When he had finished his prayer, he heard great and horrible +cries in the court as of rage and disappointment. Then came an old man +at the door of the stable, white of hair and very reverend; and he came +and put his hand upon Sir Bors' head and spoke mildly and said: + +'Good and faithful knight, sorely tried have ye been, and now you shall +have no more adventures here. Full worshipfully have ye done and better +shall ye do hereafter. And now your wounds shall be healed and ye shall +have good cheer until to-morrow.' + +Therewith there was all manner of sweetness and savour in the place, +and Sir Bors saw as in a mist a shining vessel borne by a wondrous +maiden. He knew that this was the Holy Graal; and he bowed his head, +and forthwith he was whole of his wounds. + +On the morrow he departed after a night's sweet sleep, and rode to +Arthur's court and told of his adventures. + +The king and queen and all the fellowship of the Round Table were +passing glad to see Sir Bors whole and well, and they made much of him, +for they felt that he would do things of great renown. + +Then at the feast of Pentecost went all the court to the minster to +hear their service; and when they returned to the palace the king +ordered that dinner should be prepared in the hall of the Round Table, +for this was one of the days when he was wont to assemble all his +knights at a great feast of knighthood. + +While they waited for the horn to sound, warning them that the meal was +ready, one came running to the king, saying that a thing of marvel had +happened. And Arthur went to the hall of the Round Table with his +knights, and there in the seats about the great circular board they +found letters of gold written, which said, 'Here should sit Sir +Bedevere,' or 'Here should sit Sir Gawaine,' and thus was the name of a +knight written in every seat. + +In the Siege, or Seat, Perilous, where twice or thrice a reckless +knight had dared to sit, but only to be struck dead by a sudden +flashing blow of mystery, there were written the words, 'In the four +hundredth and fourth and fiftieth year after the passion of our Lord, +shall he that shall fill this seat come among ye.' + +All the knights marvelled and looked each at the other. + +'It seemeth me,' said Lancelot, 'that this is the very day on which +this seat shall be filled by him for whom it is appointed, for this is +the four hundred and fifty-fourth winter since Christ died on the +rood.' + +It was seen that on each side of the Siege Perilous was written, on the +right one, the name of Sir Perceval, and on the left one, the name of +Sir Bors. + +Then the horn was sounded to dinner, and each knight took the seat +appointed for him, and young knights served them. All the sieges round +the table were filled except the Siege Perilous. + +Men ate and drank soberly, for they felt that an adventure strange and +marvellous should happen that day, and so indeed it befell. + +For when they had eaten, and the priest was saying in a great silence +the grace after meat, suddenly a shrill wind sounded without, and all +the doors and windows shut fast. Men looked at each other in the +twilight thus caused, and many a face was white with fear. + +Then the door opened and an old and reverend man entered, white of +beard and head, and clothed also in white; and Sir Bors knew him for +the same who had come to him at the Castle of Fiends. By the right hand +the ancient man brought a young knight, clad in red armour, with a +sword at his side, but with no shield. + +'Peace be with you, fair lords,' said the old man. Then turning to the +king he said: + +'Sir, I bring here a young knight, the which is of king's lineage, +whereby the marvels of this court shall be accomplished, and the trial +of this thy kingdom shall be brought to a happy end, if that may be. +And the name of him is Galahad.' + +'Sir,' said the king, 'ye be right welcome and the young knight with +you.' + +The old man made the young knight unarm him, and he was in a coat of +red sendal, and bare a mantle that was furred with ermine. Then was the +young man led by the reverend man to the Siege Perilous, and sat him +thereon, and men marvelled to see that the death-stroke did not flash +like lightning and slay him. + +[Illustration: SIR GALAHAD IS BROUGHT TO THE COURT OF KING ARTHUR] + +'Sir,' said the old man to him, 'wit ye well that that is your seat. +For you are he that shall surely achieve the Holy Graal, and such of +these your fellows as are pure in heart and humble shall achieve it +with you.' + +'Sir,' said the king, 'if it may be that ye know, will ye tell us what +my knights must do to achieve the Holy Vessel, and thus bring peace +into my kingdom in place of war? For many of those that are kings and +barons under me are warring with each other, and threaten to rend this +island of Britain, and some are forsaking Christ and are turning to the +evil faith and cruel worship of the pagan gods of Britain. And it goeth +to my heart to know this, and I have much dread.' + +'Sir king,' said the old white man, 'none may tell you what shall be +the end of this quest of the Holy Graal, but I can tell you and these +your knights what they must do to save this land from the ruin which +doth threaten it. Ye know that the Holy Vessel was that wherein Christ +ate the lamb on the Thursday before he was hung upon the Cross. And +Joseph of Arimathea did bring it here to Britain, and here hath it been +for more than four hundred and fifty winters. And while ye and your +kingdom did love Christ and did do His word, the Sangreal stayed within +your borders. But now ye war with each other, and are evil livers and +full of pride and mastery, and if ye do not repent and stay your +dishonour, then shall the Holy Vessel pass from Britain, and ruin and +death and civil war shall stalk through the land and leave it +desolate.' + +Having spoken thus, the old man went from the hall, and none stayed +him; for too many there were who knew that they had been the evil +livers at whom his words had pointed. + +Then uprose Sir Gawaine, who was a faithful knight and true man to his +king, though a proud one and a hasty. He was filled with sorrow for the +ruin that threatened his fair land. + +'Now I do here avow,' he said, 'that to-morrow, without fail, I shall +set forth, and I shall labour with all the strength of my body and my +soul to go in quest of the Holy Graal, so that if I be fit to see it +and to bring it hither, this dear land may be saved from woe.' + +So hot were his words that many of the better knights rose also, and +raising their right hands did make a like avowal; and those that cared +not for the quest felt that they must seem to do as the others did, and +so made avowal also, though in their hearts they thought more of pride +and earthly power. + +'Gawaine, Gawaine,' cried the king, and the great tears stood in his +eyes, 'I know ye do right to avow this and to cause these others to +avow also; but a great dread is upon me, for I have great doubt that +this my fellowship shall never meet again.' + +'Fear not,' said Lancelot, 'for bethink ye, my lord, in no better +adventure can we find death than in this quest, and of death we are all +sure.' + +On the morrow the knights armed themselves, and bade farewell to King +Arthur and his queen, and there was much weeping and great sorrow. And +as the knights rode through the streets of Camelot the crowds stood and +wept, both rich and poor. All were full of dread to see so many brave +knights depart that never more would return. + +Having passed through the gates of the town, every knight took the way +that he liked best. + +Now Sir Galahad was without a shield, and he rode four days without +adventure. At evensong on the fourth day he came to an abbey of white +monks, and there was given great cheer. He found two other knights of +the Round Table at that abbey, the one King Bagdemagus and the other +Sir Ulfin; and the three had supper together, and made great cheer one +of the other, and spoke of the adventures each would desire to have. + +'There is within this abbey, as men tell me, a shield,' said King +Bagdemagus, 'which no man may bear about his neck, but he is injured or +slain within three days. Yet to-morrow I will adventure to win it.' + +In the morning, therefore, after they had heard mass, King Bagdemagus +asked the abbot to show him where was the shield. Then was he led to +the high altar in the church, and behind it was hung a shield which +glowed with shining whiteness, and in the middle thereof was a red +cross which seemed to quiver as if it were living. + +'Sir,' said the abbot, 'this shield ought not to hang about any +knight's neck unless he be one of the three best knights of the world, +and I counsel you to beware.' + +'No matter,' said King Bagdemagus, 'I will essay it, for though I am +not Sir Lancelot, yet I am a good knight enough.' + +This he said in his pride, and took the shield and put the strap about +his neck, and bade good-bye to the other twain, and so went forth with +his squire. + +They had not ridden but two miles or more, when at the opening to a +wood Sir Bagdemagus saw a knight in white armour on a horse, riding up +and down as if to do battle with any that should venture to go into the +forest drive. + +When the white knight saw him he called out: + +'Who art thou? Thou bearest the shield of a knight peerless, but not +the armour.' + +'Who am I?' replied King Bagdemagus scornfully. 'I am he that shall +give a good account of myself with thee.' + +With that he levelled his lance and ran furiously upon the knight. But +the other stood still, and when the spear-head was nigh his shield, he +lightly turned it aside, and as Sir Bagdemagus swept by, the knight, +with a quick fierce stroke of his sword, smote him so hard that the +blade bit through the mail even to the shoulder-bone; whereby Sir +Bagdemagus fell to the ground in a swoon. + +The white knight called the squire to him and said: + +'Bear ye this shield to the young knight, Sir Galahad, who is at the +white abbey. Greet him from me, and say that it is for him to wear this +shield, and none other. And tell him that I shall meet him erelong, if +God wills, and that we shall fare together to that which is appointed +for us.' + +The squire did as he was bidden, and told Sir Galahad of the white +knight's words. Sir Galahad asked him what was the device upon the +shield of the white knight, and he answered, 'A red heart.' Then said +the young knight, 'It shall be even as he saith.' + +Sir Galahad mounted his horse and rode alone, ever northward, for he +knew that the Holy Graal was hidden in a castle somewhere in the north +among the warring barons. Many days he rode without adventure, until on +a day he came to an old and venerable wood, dark and thick and close, +where the moss hung like thick beards from the hoary branches. + +There, in a laund or glade in the midmost part of the forest, he found +an old and white dame, kneeling before a green cross beside the path, +weeping piteously as she prayed and beat her breast. + +'What ails ye, lady?' asked Sir Galahad. + +'Ah, good knight,' said the old dame, and as she rose it was well seen +she was of gentle birth, I weep for that I have lived to see the day +when sons of mine shall slay each the other. I have three sons, and all +are of the worshipful company of the Round Table. But two are wasteful +livers, and have taken from me all that whereby I lived; and ever hath +my youngest boy, Sir Hewlin, withstood their evil ways. Wherefore they +hated him. And yesterday did Sir Nulloth and Sir Dew, my elder sons, +return, and did quarrel with my dear lad Hewlin. And now I fear they go +about to slay him. Oh, if that they kill him, who is the prop and +comfort of my old age, I shall surely die.' + +'Sad it is, lady,' said Sir Galahad, and mournful was his mind, 'to +think that in this dear land of Britain there should be knights that +are given to such thoughts of evil as to slay their own kin. Lead me to +them, I pray ye.' + +He set the dame upon his saddle before him, and she led the way through +the forest. When they had gone but a mile she started, and stopped the +horse, and then they heard the sound of clashing steel. Sadly did that +poor lady shriek and cry: + +'Ah! they slay him now! My dear son! My dear boy!' + +Swiftly Sir Galahad made his horse to leap forward, and in a little +while they came upon a great meadow, where two knights on foot were +together fighting another single knight with swords. Forthwith Sir +Galahad cried with a loud and a stern voice, 'Hold, put up your swords, +ye evil brothers, that would slay each other!' + +All turned at the cry. Then, seeing his mother, the young knight Sir +Hewlin threw down his sword. And leaping from Sir Galahad's horse the +reverend lady tottered to her youngest son and threw herself upon his +breast, and he clasped his mother in his arms. + +But the two evil brothers laughed scornfully at Sir Galahad. + +'Who art thou, thou knight in red?' they cried. 'Thinkest thou to +frighten us with thy big words?' + +Quickly they mounted their horses and ran upon Sir Galahad together. +But the lance of one he received upon his shield, and the weapon +snapped in twain; and that of the other he thrust aside and, as the +knight thundered by, he brought down his sword, with so fierce and +wrathful a stroke, that the head of the knight flew from his shoulders. + +Seeing this, the other, who was Sir Nulloth, made haste to throw +himself from his horse, and came and kneeled before Sir Galahad, +praying mercy. + +'I know who ye are,' he said. 'You are Sir Galahad, the stainless +knight, who shall prevail in all thy deeds, and whom no weapon may +wound until ye have fulfilled your high destiny. And I will do +faithfully any behest ye may lay upon me.' + +'I will then,' said Sir Galahad sternly, 'that thou makest peace with +thy mother and thy brother here instantly; that thou seekest naught of +them till thy dying day, which shall not be far from thee; and that +thou goest this day and place thyself in the service of Sir Bedevere, +or Sir Uriens upon the coasts, and help to thrust forth the hateful +pagan from the land.' + +The knight swore to do all this, and after he had made his peace with +his kindred, he set forth to do Sir Galahad's bidding. And it was as +the stainless knight had foretold, for in seven days Sir Nulloth had +found death, bravely fighting the pagan pirates. + +Sir Galahad went forward, sore of heart to think that such evil was in +the land and in men's minds, that any could be found to wish the death +of a brother and to care naught for the sorrow of an old mother. + +Thus for many months Sir Galahad rode about the land, seeking out the +knights who, with their bands of soldiers, fought to wrest from each +other land and castles. And ever he strove to make peace between them, +and to show them how, while they fought with each other, Christian +against Christian, the pagan hordes were let unhindered into the land, +ravening, burning, and slaying. + +Some of the battling knights did forsake their evil ways, and went to +Sir Bedevere and Sir Uriens, with whom they strove to push back the +fierce pagans into their long black ships. But many others, so lost to +honour and knightliness were they, performed not their promises, and +continued to fight each with the other. + +So fierce, indeed, was the fighting through all that land, that the +peasants forsook the fields and hid themselves; and the pagans from the +northern wilderness came over the walls and wandered, killing and +burning and robbing. And thus in many parts the crops were not sown or +reaped, the wheat stood unharvested and wild, and the grass and weeds +grew tall on the very hearths of the poor peasants and husbandmen. + +The heart of Sir Galahad grew sick, seeing the evil which was come into +the land, and he feared that soon the Holy Graal would be taken from +the island of Britain, and that then ruin would stalk throughout the +length and breadth of the realm. + +Once, at the dawning, Sir Galahad looked from the door of a little +hermitage where he had passed the night, and was aware of a great +company of men coming over the moor. They were all horsed, and were +going towards the sea, which was on the right hand, where steep and +fearful cliffs fell sheer to the thundering surf beneath. And in their +midst he saw they held captive a full noble knight, who seemed wounded, +and whose armour was all broken and cracked, as if he had fought +valiantly before he had been overcome. Him they were going to hurl +headlong down the cliffs. + +Sir Galahad began to arm himself full hastily to meet them. But as he +dressed his armour he was aware of a knight coming swiftly from a +little wood that lay towards the sea-edge. Then was the heart of Sir +Galahad exceeding joyful when he saw that the knight was all in white +armour, and that on his shield was the device of a heart; for he knew +that this was Sir Perceval. + +Sir Perceval spurred towards the band of knights, and in a loud voice +called on them to release their captive. + +'Who art thou?' they cried. + +'I am a knight of the Pendragon of these islands, King Arthur,' +answered Perceval, 'and thy captive is my friend, Sir Bors of +Brittany.' + +'Ha! ha!' the others laughed, and spurred furiously towards him. 'Slay +him!' they shouted. 'We own no Arthur here. We are our own lords.' + +With spears in rest, seven of the knights thundered against Sir +Perceval. But by this time Sir Galahad was upon his horse, and, making +no outcry, he spurred upon the others. + +Three knights he dashed to the ground with one lance-thrust; but then +the spear broke. Therewith he drew his sword, and smote in the thick of +them so furiously on the left and on the right that they could not +abide him, but fled from about Sir Bors, who, wresting a sword from one +of them, rode after the seven that were fighting Sir Perceval. + +So valiantly and hardily did the three knights lay about them that in a +little while their enemies had fled, leaving more than half their +number slain. + +Then did the three knights make great cheer and welcome of each other, +and told each their adventures, and promised that now they were +together they would never more part till death should summon them. + +So, together, they fared thereafter many months, doing noble deeds, and +seeking earnestly to bring men's hearts to turn to friendship and +union, so that, united, the lords of the northern lands should turn +upon the pagans and destroy them utterly. + +It befell that, on a morn, they came to a castle on a great cliff that +was in the marches of Scotland; and they heard a horn sound in that +castle and much shouting. On the walls thereof were men of a savage +aspect, peering and looking down at them. And those men had fair hair, +with steel helms which had great horns or wings upon them. On their +tall bodies were leather jerkins, with gold chains and many ornaments. + +Then Sir Galahad and his friends were aware that on the topmost +pinnacle of the castle was a banner, floating and flapping in the +morning wind. Black was that banner, and in the midmost part thereof +was a golden raven, with beaks open as if it croaked, and its wings +were wide thrown, as if it flew over a field of slain men. + +They knew that this was a horde of pagans who had wrested this castle +from its rightful lord, and that full fierce would be the battle. + +Then from a hole or cave beneath a tree near by came a maiden, richly +dressed, but sad and pitiable of face and thin of form, as if from long +pining. + +'Fair lords,' said she, 'for God His love turn again if ye may, or else +here ye will come unto your death.' + +'Nay,' said Sir Galahad, 'we will not turn again, for He shall help us +in whose service we be entered in. Who are ye, fair damsel, in such +painful guise?' + +'Fair lords, I am Issyllt,' said the maiden, and the tears filled her +eyes. 'My father is Earl Hernox, the lord of this castle. And whether +he be dead by torture at the hands of his hateful enemies and these +fiends, or whether he be still alive against a time when they have more +leisure to torture him, I know not. But three nights ago came certain +knights with a horde of these evil pagans, and stormed this castle, and +for all my dear father's valiant deeds, and the prowess of my three +dear brothers, they overcame our people, and my three brothers I saw +slain before my eyes. When they rushed upon my father, my nurse dragged +me away, and we fled hither. But I cannot go away, not knowing whether +my father is dead. And if he be dead I care not whether the pagan +fiends catch and slay me.' + +'Fair maiden,' said Sir Galahad, 'be of good heart, for your father may +yet be delivered unto you.' + +'Ha, fair lord, I know not how that may be,' said the maiden. Then, +glancing at the castle, she saw the portcullis yawn, and some ten +knights rush forth, with pagans besides on foot. Whereat she clasped +her hands in terror. + +'Now God be with ye, fair lords,' she cried. 'You have my prayers, and +may Heaven grant ye victory. But dread is on me for your deaths, brave +knights.' + +Full wrathful were the three good knights to hear the girl's sad tale, +and hard was their rage to hear that Christian knights had leagued +themselves with the heathen Saxons so as to get their aid in a private +quarrel with the Earl Hernox. Therefore, very joyously did Galahad and +Perceval leap forward, lances in rest, against the traitorous knights +that rushed towards them from the castle. + +Marvellous indeed was it to see the deeds of those three stainless +knights that day; for when their lances were broken, they drew their +swords, and their wrath, their fierceness and their valour, none could +withstand. + +While Sir Bors smote with deadly blows the pagans that swarmed about +him, Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval dealt death among the traitorous +knights, so that not one was left alive. And seeing this, the +fair-haired fierce pagans lost heart. Turning, they wished to flee into +the castle and pull down the portcullis. + +But swiftly on their heels dashed the three brave knights, and the +pagans, never stopping, heard the hoofs of their horses thunder over +the drawbridge close behind them. The horde of Saxons took flight into +the hall, and there they stood and got breath. But the knights, leaping +from their horses, rushed in on foot, and back to back they met the +onslaught of the yelling heathens. + +Very fierce was the anger in the hearts of the three knights, so that +they stayed not their hands even when the pirates gave way and fled +from the dreadful place of slaughter. But the knights pursued them +wheresoever they tried to hide, and hither and thither about the castle +they ran, and in and out the chambers, up and down the stairs, until +for very weariness they had perforce to cease. + +Then when they beheld the great multitude of pagans they had slain, +they were sobered and sad, thinking themselves great sinners. + +'Certes,' said Sir Bors, 'I ween that God willed that we should slay so +many, for they must have done great evil.' + +'They are indeed foul pagans,' said Sir Galahad, 'and have done great +wrong and cruelty in their time to women and little children through +this fair land of Britain. But I doubt we have been mad this little +while to slay so many mothers' sons as these.' + +Then from out a secret chamber came a priest, white with great age, and +with a countenance that shone marvellously bright; and when he saw how +many were slain in that hall, he was abashed. Sir Galahad put off his +helm, and the two knights with him, and all three kneeled down and +confessed the madness of their sin which had slain even those that +craved for quarter. + +'Ye have done more than ye wist, brave knights,' said the priest, when +he had absolved them; 'for the evil knights that led these pagan +thieves had plotted to gain this castle because of the great and holy +treasures that are hidden here. And by a prophecy I know that ye are +the three good knights, peerless among all, who should achieve this +deed. Therefore, when ye have ordered these slain to be removed, and +when the hall shall be garnished and your harness shall be cleaned of +the signs of battle, ye shall see that which hath been ordained for +ye.' + +When all had been done as they had commanded, and the place well +cleansed and fresh rushes laid along the floor, the three knights sat +on a bench, and the Earl Hernox and the maid Issyllt with them, and +there was much cheer and rejoicing between them all. + +Then the old priest called the earl and his daughter from the room, and +left the three knights together. Suddenly, as they sat talking, the +doors were shut and the windows were darkened, and a great wind arose +with a sad sound, wailing and piping. Then the darkness suddenly went +away, and they saw a great light shining in the midmost part of the +hall, so bright and strong that hardly could their eyes suffer it. Soon +through the light they could see a table of silver, whereon was a wide +dish also of silver, marvellously and delicately wrought. + +Then the doors opened and they saw angels entering; and two bare +candles of wax, and the third held a towel, and in the hand of the +fourth was a spear which bled marvellously from the point thereof. +Going to the table the angels set the candles and the towel upon it, +and the spear was placed beside the shining vessel. + +Of a sudden the knights were aware that there sat one beside the table +who was marvellously old and white; and he was dressed in the habit of +a bishop, and his face was very winning, and a great brightness flowed +from it. + +On the breast of his robe were words in the Latin tongue, which said, +'Lo, I am Joseph, the first bishop of Christendom, who did take our +Lord's body down from the cruel rood.' + +The three marvelled greatly, for that bishop had been dead more than +four hundred years. Seeing their looks of perplexity, the bishop smiled +sweetly upon them, and said: + +'Marvel not, O knights, for though I am now a spirit, I know thy +weakness, and have come to aid thee.' + +Then the bishop took up the shining vessel from the table, and came to +Galahad; and the knight kneeled down and took of the food that was +within the holy dish. And after that the other two received it. Of +marvellous savour was the food, and like none that they had ever eaten +or thought of at any time before. + +Then the bishop said to Galahad: + +'Son, knowest thou what is this vessel I hold in my hands?' + +'Nay, holy man, I know not,' replied Galahad. + +'It is the holy vessel which men call the Sangreal, out of which our +Lord ate the lamb at the feast before He was betrayed to that death +upon the rood whereby He redeemed the world, if men would but choose +His gentle law.' + +'It is what we have most desired to see, holy father,' said Sir +Galahad. + +'And it is what, alas, no others in this realm shall ever see,' said +the bishop; and his countenance, which before had been sweet and +gentle, now saddened and was dark. 'For this night it shall depart from +this land of Logris, so that it shall never more be seen here. + +'Alas,' cried Galahad and Perceval, 'that is great sorrow to hear. O +holy bishop and spirit, say not that it means that this land shall be +rent in ruin and given up to heathendom again?' + +'It must be so,' said the bishop sadly. 'Christ is not served in +gentleness, nor is His law worshipped in this land, where men slay +their brothers, rob their kindred, and make treaties with the pagans. +And its knights are turned to evil livers, desiring mastery and proud +power. Therefore hath Christ sent me to disinherit this land of this +holy thing with which He hath honoured it since that time when I +brought it here four hundred and fifty-five winters ago.' + +Hearing these words of doom, Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval wept full +piteously for the fate of their country. When they had mourned greatly, +they asked if there was no hope of turning the land from its evil ways. + +'There is none,' said the bishop sorrowfully. 'Have ye three not tried +manfully these last two years since ye have sought that which ye now +see? And all thy labours, thy battling, thy griefs, have they availed +aught? No, it is the will of God that in due time this land and this +people shall be put into the melting-pot. And when the season appointed +shall come, sorrow and death, rebellion and treachery shall stalk +through the land, and naught shall stand of its present kingdoms; the +pagans shall blot out the holy memory of God and Christ, and shall turn +the fanes of prayer into the lairs of wolves, and owls shall rest where +hymns of praise have been sung. And no wars of goodly knights may +hinder these things of dreadful doom. But I have this message for ye +two, Galahad and Perceval; that inasmuch as ye have seen this which you +craved to see, and have lived purely and unspotted from pride or evil, +thy souls shall go with me when I shall depart. But you, my son,' he +said, looking at Sir Bors, 'still find in your heart the love of kin, +and a longing for battle, and so you shall remain, to fight for Christ +while yet you are alive.' + +Suddenly a fierce light came where they sat, so that Sir Bors kneeled +as one blinded for a time. When it had passed, he looked and saw where +Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval still kneeled, with their hands lifted as +if in prayer. But there was naught to see of the holy vessel or the +spear, nor was Joseph there. + +Then, going to the two knights, he found that they were dead. + +Sir Bors knew then that their souls had gone with Joseph and the holy +vessel, and had been borne to the heaven for which their pure and +humble hearts had yearned while yet they lived. + +Then Sir Bors made great sorrow for his two fellows, and knew that +never more would he be as joyful or as careless as he had been. With +right heavy mood he craved of Earl Hernox to have a grave dug deep in +the living rock whereon the castle was builded. This the earl gladly +did, and very solemnly the two good knights were buried, and long did +Sir Bors mourn over the grave. + +In a little while thereafter Sir Bors armed himself, and departed, and +after many adventures, rode southwards till he came to Camelot. And +there he told the king and such knights as there were, how the two +stainless knights had achieved the Holy Graal, and how their souls had +been taken up with the sacred vessel. + +All the court mourned for the two knights, and the king commanded a +history to be written of what Sir Bors had told. It was so done, and +the book richly adorned with many coloured letters, was kept in the +great treasure-chest in the castle of Sarum. + +Ever after Sir Bors was a silent man, for he could not forget the holy +and terrible sight he had seen. Of the doom which was coming in due +time upon the dear and fair land of Britain, as was prophesied by St. +Joseph, he told no man, but kept the words fast locked in his heart. + + + + +XI + +OF THE PLOTS OF SIR MORDRED; AND HOW SIR LANCELOT SAVED THE QUEEN + + +After the quest of the Sangreal was completed, and all the knights that +were left alive had returned to the court of King Arthur, there was +great joy among the people, and the king and Queen Gwenevere were +passing glad of the remnant that had come home again. + +Especially did the queen make much of Sir Lancelot and of Sir Bors his +cousin, for they were the two most noble and courteous knights of the +Round Table, and none thought of them but as men peerless and beyond +compare. + +Sir Mordred, who was the king's nephew, was jealous of the two knights, +and went about privily among such knights as were his familiars, and +spoke sneering words concerning Sir Lancelot and the queen and Sir +Bors. Once Sir Mordred said such words in the hearing of his brother +Sir Gawaine; but that knight so heavily and wrathfully took him to +task, that Sir Mordred knew that Sir Gawaine envied not the two +knights, and could never be brought to think other than friendly +thoughts of them. + +Therefore Sir Mordred hated the two knights more than ever. Of a slight +frame was Mordred, but tall, with dark hair, sallow face, and deep-set +grey eyes beside a thin long nose. Few loved him, for he was never +cheery nor very friendly, and ever seemed to sneer with his thin lips +and his cold wolfish eyes. + +In a little while strange dark rumours began to go about the court, and +it was whispered that so proud had Sir Lancelot become of his fame and +prowess, that he harboured evil thoughts against the king, and that he +aimed to make a kingdom for himself out of the countries that lay about +his own lands of Joyous Gard in the northern marches. + +Then fresh rumours went about, and these were the most evil of all. It +was said that he sought to slay the king, and wished to make Gwenevere +his own queen, and with her he would rule over all Britain. + +First, men laughed and passed the rumours with a shrug and a gesture of +scorn; but when they were repeated again and again, some began half to +believe them. Many said that there must be some truth therein, for Sir +Lancelot was ever wending his way to the north country, and fought +there many battles and overcame many knights. + +But others said this was because many ladies and damsels, who had lost +lands and homes and been evilly oppressed by the warring barons in +those parts, had heard of his great fame for knightly deeds and noble +manners, and came beseeching him to be their champion against those who +had robbed them. + +Others said that it was but natural that when he was at the court he +should speak much to the queen, for he had from the first vowed himself +to be her knight, and many deeds of daring and prowess had he done for +her. + +Yet others there were who believed that what rumour said might be true; +and others, who were good and noble knights, sorrowed to think that +such evil thoughts should be spread about by some treacherous tongues. + +When men came to ask who had set these evil tongues to wag, it was +always found that a certain mean knight, named Sir Pinel, had first +spoken wrong of Lancelot and Sir Bors and the queen. And men noticed +that it was not long before the queen began to look coldly at Sir +Pinel, and then they knew that his rumours had reached her ears. + +'What profit doth Sir Pinel think to gain from those false tales of +her?' said Sir Brastias one day, as he and Sir Gareth came from the +hawking together. 'For none ever reckoned him as a knight of any merit, +and all good men will now think less of him.' + +'I fear me,' said Sir Gareth, 'that there is more beneath it all than +we wot of. Sir Pinel is a bosom friend of Sir Mordred's. Often have I +seen their heads together in places apart. And though he is my brother, +Sir Mordred is one I cannot love.' + +'What fear you, Gareth?' asked Sir Brastias. + +'I fear naught that he may do,' said Gareth, 'but I think he hates Sir +Lancelot and he hates Gawaine also, the chief of our party, because he +hath roundly told Mordred that he is a traitor, and that he will not be +drawn from his firm friendship with Sir Lancelot and his kinsmen. I +think Sir Mordred would do much to cause some ill to Gawaine or Sir +Lancelot, so long as his own evil body was not hurt.' + +'Sad it is,' said Brastias full gloomily, 'to think a man of such great +kin should harbour hatred and murder against the chief of his kin. And +that such should be, methinks, betokens that evil is about to fall upon +our famous brotherhood of the Round Table, and on this dear land of +Britain.' + +Now it befell that the poor queen had heard, through her maidens, of +the rumours concerning herself and Sir Lancelot, and, taking counsel of +no one, she bethought how she could prove to the remnant of the Round +Table that she was free of any plots against the king or the fair +kingdom of Britain. + +She resolved that she would invite the knights to a privy dinner, and +when they had eaten she would throw herself upon their knightly pity +and honour, telling them how the evil rumours wronged and hurt her +bitterly. And she doubted not that thus their manly sympathy and +worship of her, their queen, would, by her words, cast out the evil +effects of the slanderous tales. + +Therefore, at that dinner, she had Sir Gawaine and his brethren, that +is to say, Sir Gareth, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris and Sir Mordred. Also +there were the kin of Sir Lancelot, to wit, Sir Bors, Sir Blamore, Sir +Bleobaris, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel. But Sir Lancelot had +gone into the Scottish marches, to do battle with a notable robber and +oppressor there. There were other knights, making in all the number of +twenty-four. And these were all the remnant of the one hundred and +fifty that had gone forth in the Quest of the Sangreal. + +Among the guests were Sir Pinel and his cousin, Sir Mador. + +Now Sir Gawaine had a custom of eating apples which he used daily at +dinner and at supper. He loved all manner of fruit, and in especial a +certain brown or russet apple, which was called Afal Coch. Every one +knew of this fondness of Sir Gawaine's, and whoever dined or feasted +him took care to provide such apples for his pleasure. + +The queen had known this, and among the fruit for the table she had +ordered such apples to be placed. + +Now Sir Mordred, as Sir Gareth had suspected, hated Sir Gawaine with a +deep hatred, and therefore he had, by crafty dealing, taken all the +russet apples from the dish except one, and into this he had thrust a +deadly poison. He guessed that, as every one knew of Sir Gawaine's +fondness for that sort of fruit, no one would take it, but would leave +it for Sir Gawaine, who would eat it and die thereof. + +When the feast was near an end, and men laughed and jested together, +the dish of fruit was handed round, and Sir Pinel, the mean knight, +noticed that there was but one of the apples which Sir Gawaine loved; +and to spite that knight, whom he hated, he took that apple, ere the +dish went to Sir Gawaine. + +Sir Mordred saw him take it, yet would not cry out to warn his +fellow-traitor, for this would have revealed himself. He saw Sir +Pinel's teeth sink into the brown apple, and Sir Pinel's sneering look +as he glanced across at Sir Gawaine, who was searching vainly in the +dish for his favourite fruit. + +Then Sir Mordred saw Sir Pinel's face go red, and then deadly white. +And as the poison gripped him, Sir Pinel rose shrieking from the table, +crying out that some enemy had poisoned him. + +Then he sank writhing to the ground, shrieking and moaning, clutching +at the ground and at the legs of the chairs. Suddenly, with a great +groan, he lay still and was dead. + +Every knight leaped from the table, ashamed, full of rage and fear, +nigh out of their wits, but dumb. They looked at each other and then at +the dead Sir Pinel, and all their eyes kept from the face of the queen, +where she sat on the high seat, with two of her ladies beside her. + +The reason they could not speak was that they knew the queen had heard +of the evil tales which Sir Pinel had spread about her, and that she +must have hated him bitterly. And she had made this feast, and had +invited him thereto, and now he was dead at the board, by means of +deadly poison placed in the food which she had set before him. + +Then for very shame some began to leave the chamber; and others could +not bear to look upon the queen, who sat with a face that went now +pale, now red. She had seen what happened, and who it was had been +slain, and she had read the suspicion in men's gestures. + +Then the voice of Sir Mador rang out, and checked men from going from +the room, and drew all eyes to where he stood, a tall and burly man, +red and angry of face, and fierce of eyes. + +'Look!' he cried, and held between his fingers and high above his head +the apple which Sir Pinel had bitten, 'this is the thing whereof my +kinsman, Sir Pinel, hath lost his life. The matter shall not end here, +for I have lost a noble knight of my blood, and I will be revenged to +the uttermost.' + +Then, turning, he savagely looked at the queen, and with fierce rolling +eyes he roared out: + +'Thou art the murderess! Thou--the queen! Hear me, knights and +chieftains. I charge the queen with the murder of my kinsman, Sir +Pinel, and justice upon her will I have.' + +Every one in the hall stood still as if they were of stone. None could +gainsay him, none could utter a word on behalf of the queen, for all +had suspicion that she had slain Sir Pinel for his slanders of her. + +Then suddenly the queen rose, white and trembling. + +'My lords and knights, I did not cause it!' she cried in a broken +voice. 'I am innocent! I know not how it came!' + +And therewith she fell down in a swoon. + +Sir Mordred's pale face smiled with a bitter sneer. He knew not then +whether what had happened would help his evil plots or no; but he +resolved to say naught, and so went out with all the other silent +knights, whilst the ladies of the queen took her up lamenting, and bore +her to her chamber. + +With the noise and the sorrow that was in the court, King Arthur came +and craved to know what was the matter; but none of the silent knights +would speak until he met Sir Gawaine, who replied, and said: + +'Sir, the queen did invite us to a privy feast with her. And one of the +knights did eat of the fruit on the table, and he is dead by poison. +Therefore, I dread lest the queen will be shamed for this.' + +King Arthur was passing heavy at the hearing of these words, and went +unto the queen to comfort her. + +On the next day, when the king sat in hall with his two court judges, +as was his wont daily, to hear any causes or charges which might be +brought before him, all men stood with gloomy faces, and there was no +laughing and jesting talk, as was usual at this time. + +Sir Mador came forward and charged the queen of murder, and required +that justice should be done upon her. + +The king heard him with a sad face and in silence. Then he said: + +'Fair lords and noble knights, heavy is my grief for this, and rather +would I give my life for my queen at this moment than that my tongue +should frame so evil a charge against my dear wife and your noble +queen. But I am here to see that law is done, as justly to the highest +as to the lowest. I doubt not that God will soon clear her of this +seeming evil.' + +'I know not how that may be,' said Sir Mador angrily, 'for the evil +deed is clear to any man's eyes.' + +'I deem this deed was never done by my queen, nor by her desire,' said +the king sternly, 'but by some traitor that would do her evil and +wishes to see her die. But as I am her judge, I may not be her champion +and fight against you for her fair fame. I doubt not, however, that +some good knight will take this charge upon himself, and put his body +in jeopardy for my queen. For if this be not done, dost thou know what +is the penalty?' + +'She must be burnt,' said Mador sullenly. 'But she hath done the deed +and will merit the doom.' + +'Cease, hasty man,' said King Arthur sternly; 'it goeth to my heart to +hear ye pronounce the doom thou wouldst visit upon that fair lady. Fear +not, Sir Mador, she shall find some good knight to do combat for her. +Therefore do thou name thy day of battle.' + +'But hark ye, lord,' said Sir Mador, 'there is none of the +four-and-twenty knights that were bidden to this dinner that hath not +suspicion of the queen for this deed. Therefore, no knight can take +this charge upon him in her behalf. What say ye, my lords?' + +He turned to the silent, moody men about the dais. + +The knights looked troubled, and were dumb for some moments; but at the +last Sir Gawaine said: + +'We cannot excuse the queen, for she gave the feast. And either the +poison came by her will or by her servants.' + +But most of the knights were silent, and Sir Bors and his kindred were +very sorrowful. King Arthur was heavy at the words of Sir Gawaine. + +'Now, king,' cried Sir Mador triumphantly, 'I require ye, as ye be a +righteous king, give me a day that I may have justice.' + +'That will I do,' said the king, 'as I must do, that am a just king. I +give you this day fifteen days, that ye be ready armed on horseback in +the meadow beside the wall at London; and if it so fall out that there +be a knight to encounter with you, then God speed the right; and if +there be no knight to take arms for my queen, then must she suffer by +fire.' + +So sorrowful were the king's words that many knights had much ado to +keep from weeping. + +'And meanwhile,' said Sir Mador, 'I do require that ye keep the queen +in close ward and prison, lest any try a rescue, and thus defeat the +justice that is my due.' + +Though it went to the king's heart to have to order this, he gave the +queen into the keeping of Sir Kay, who kept her in her chamber, guarded +by three knights, to the great grief of her women and all the court. + +Then the queen sent for Sir Bors, and when he was come she threw +herself on her knees full piteously before him, and wept sorely, and +begged that he would save her from this dreadful death. + +'For by my confession unto Heaven,' she cried, 'I know naught of this +wicked deed how it was brought about. And will ye not take this combat +upon ye for my sake? For I am sure if your kinsman, Sir Lancelot, was +here, he would not suffer this evil suspicion to lie against me. For he +hath ever been my most faithful knight, but now am I without friend in +this great pass.' + +'Madam,' replied Sir Bors, 'what can I do? For if I take this charge +upon me for your sake, men will say I was your aider in this crime that +they charge upon you. And I see not how I may fight for you except by +endangering my own life without saving yours. But I tell ye, madam, +what I will do. I will hasten with all speed to the north, trusting in +God to get news of Sir Lancelot, so that I may tell him and bring him +here within the time appointed.' + +'Ah, good Sir Bors,' cried the queen, and clasped his hands. 'Do ye do +that, for I know that Sir Lancelot will never believe me guilty of so +great a crime. And I will pray hourly that ye find him and bring him to +me in time, so that my poor body be not unjustly given to the dreadful +flames.' + +Forthwith Sir Bors armed himself, and with two squires set forth +instantly; and sent his men in different ways, so that among the three +they should not fail to hear where, in the northern marches, a knight +so famous as Sir Lancelot might be found. + +No rest did the good Sir Bors give to himself, but swiftly did he ride +hither and thither questioning all knights whom he met, and inquiring +of every hermitage and abbey and at every harbourage. Finally, when +eleven days had passed of the fifteen, he found Sir Lancelot lying +wounded at a broken abbey, from which, in a fierce fight, he had but +two days before thrust out a band of pagans, who would have murdered +the nuns and robbed the church of its holy relics. + +Full wroth was Sir Lancelot when, having lovingly greeted each other, +Sir Bors told him all that had passed with the queen. + +'The foul traitors!' he cried, and, getting fiercely from the pallet on +which he lay, he strode up and down the chamber clenching his hands and +gnashing his teeth. 'Do any dare to suspect her--do any think in cold +blood to see that peerless lady bound to the stake, the flames +devouring her noble person? That men should think such things, and move +not a hand in noble wrath, shows how evil are the days in which we +live!' + +Then he rushed from the room, wounded as he was; and, full of a cold +wrath, he ordered his arms to be brought and his horse to be saddled. +And to the gentle persuasions of the nuns he said he must be gone, 'for +he must stay a wrong that, if suffered, would sink the kingdom in +unquenchable shame and ruin.' + +Then with Sir Bors he rode southwards, full fiercely, and never resting +to eat, but taking food as he rode. At night he would not doff his +armour, but slept beside his horse; and seldom spoke, but was consumed +as by a great fire of anger. + +And on the fourteenth day they rode into London. + +'Go beg the queen to see me,' he said to Sir Bors. + +Sir Bors went, and Sir Lancelot strode unto an hostelry to wash from +himself the stains of travel, and to don a fitting robe in which to +appear before the queen. + +Now it had befallen, while Sir Bors had been absent from the court +seeking for Sir Lancelot, that Sir Mordred and Sir Agravaine had made a +plot with each other against him and against Sir Lancelot. And they +caused it to be noised in all the court that Sir Bors had gone to seek +Sir Lancelot, and that Sir Bors was privy to the plots which Sir +Lancelot and the queen had made to wrest the kingdom from King Arthur +and to reign together in his stead. They said that Sir Bors had gone to +warn Sir Lancelot that the time was ripe to strike. + +Wherefore many knights were greatly displeased to hear this news, but +some would not believe it, and said that Sir Bors had gone to tell Sir +Lancelot of the jeopardy in which the queen's life was placed, and to +ask him to do battle for her. + +'But,' said some, 'if he do not find Sir Lancelot, it is his intention +to do combat for the queen himself, and that is great wrong in Sir +Bors, for he was with us at the feast, and none but she could have +caused that poison.' + +Daily the party which inclined to Sir Mordred and Sir Agravaine gained +power, and some were for going to tell the king of the evil designs +which Sir Lancelot and Sir Bors and the queen had against his person +and the kingdom. But Sir Mordred said, 'No, the time is not yet ripe. +Wait a while.' + +The guard that was set about the queen's chamber was doubled, and all +were knights that were well-willers to the plots of Sir Mordred and Sir +Agravaine. + +When, therefore, Sir Bors came and asked to see the queen, they let him +go to her; but Sir Agravaine hid himself and listened to all that +passed between Sir Bors and the queen. Then he went and told the others +that Sir Lancelot was waiting to speak to the queen, and he counselled +that they should let him come, and then when he came forth again, as he +would be unarmed, they could fall upon him and capture him, and take +him before the king and charge him with his treason and his plots. + +And with the consent of Sir Mordred this was so agreed; and he advised +that most of them should hide from before the door, so that Sir +Lancelot should not think the guard was strong. + +'For,' said Sir Mordred, 'if he sees there is no great watch kept, he +may strive to free the queen, and when we take him it will be blacker +against him.' + +When, therefore, Sir Bors came forth from his audience with the queen, +he found but one knight at the door, and that was Sir Petipace of +Winchelsea, a young man. Sir Bors wondered why the guard of ten or +twelve that had been there before was now gone, and he was uneasy in +his mind. + +Going to Sir Lancelot, he told him that the queen would see him at +once; 'but,' added Sir Bors, 'ye shall not go this night by my counsel, +nor should you go before there are more of our kinsmen near us to aid +us in case of need.' + +'Why?' said Sir Lancelot. + +'Sir,' said Sir Bors, 'I misdoubt me of Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred. +There was a great watch before the door of the queen's room when I +entered; but when I came hence there was but one. And I mistrust them +that stood there. For all were of Sir Mordred's evil company, and +peradventure they lay some snare for you, and I dread me sore of +treachery.' + +'Have ye no doubt,' said Sir Lancelot, 'for I shall go and come again +and make no tarrying.' + +'Sir,' replied his cousin, 'that me sore repenteth. But if you will, I +will go and seek some of our kinsmen to meet us near by. And do you not +go until I have found them.' + +'Nay, I will not stay,' said Sir Lancelot, 'and I marvel me much why ye +say this, for they dare do naught against me.' + +'God speed you well,' said Sir Bors, 'if that is your will, and send +you safe and sound again.' + +Sir Lancelot departed, taking his sword underneath his arm, while Sir +Bors went forth to find some of their kin. He learned, however, that +many of them had gone forth with the king to punish a bandit lord in +the forest of the Weald, and would not return before the morrow, when +the combat should be held for the queen. + +Sir Lancelot came to the door of the queen's prison, and found Sir +Petipace there, and demanded to be let in to see the queen. + +'We thought you were in the north, Sir Lancelot,' said the young +knight, with a laugh, 'and surely it will pleasure our lady queen to +see you.' + +He unlocked the door of the queen's antechamber, and told her +waiting-woman that Sir Lancelot would see the queen, and in a few +moments Sir Lancelot was let in. The sorrowing queen told him all that +had happened, and how, and he was wroth to think that any one should +suspect her of so great a crime. He promised that on the day appointed +he would fight for her with all his strength, as a true knight should, +and God would defend the right. + +Suddenly, as they spoke together, there came loud voices crying outside +the chamber door: + +'Traitor knight, Sir Lancelot du Lake, now art thou taken in thy +treachery!' + +Sir Lancelot knew that the voices were those of Sir Agravaine, who had +ever been envious of him, and of Sir Mordred, whom no one loved. He +went quickly to the door and barred it with the beam, and bade the +terrified queen not to be alarmed. He asked her whether there was any +armour in the room, which he could put on to defend himself. + +'I have none,' she said, weeping sorely, 'wherefore I dread me sore +that evil will come to you, my true and valiant knight, for I hear by +their noise there be many strong knights, wherefore ye are like to be +slain soon, and then shall I surely burn.' + +'Alas!' said Sir Lancelot, 'in all my life was I never in such a pass, +to be slain for lack of my armour.' + +'Traitor knight,' cried those that were hammering at the door with the +handles of their swords, 'come out at once and skulk there no more, for +know ye well thou art so beset that thou shalt not escape.' + +Sir Lancelot went to the queen and, kneeling to her, took her hand and +kissed it, saying: + +'Madam, I beseech you to pray for my soul if I be slain. I have been +your true knight with all my power up to this time, and now I will not +fail you if I may; but if I be slain, I am assured that my kinsman Sir +Bors and all the others of my kin will not suffer you to go to the +fire.' + +Then Sir Lancelot, leaving the weeping queen, wrapped his mantle round +his left arm as if it were a shield, and prepared to sell his life +dearly. By this time the knights outside had got a bench from the hall, +and using it as a battering-ram, were dashing it against the door to +beat it in. + +'Leave your noise, fair lords,' rang out the voice of Lancelot, 'and I +will open the door to ye, and then ye may do to me what ye will.' + +'Do it then,' they cried, 'and we will give you your life until we take +thee to King Arthur, to be judged for your treason.' + +Sir Lancelot unbarred the door and held it open a little way, so that +one knight only might enter at a time. One entered, a big slow man, +named Sir Colgreve, and swiftly Sir Lancelot slammed the door and +fastened it, to keep the others out. + +Sir Colgreve turned and struck at Sir Lancelot; but the latter put the +stroke lightly aside with his sword, and gave so swift and keen a blow +upon the other's helm that Sir Colgreve fell down dead. + +Then, while the others hammered and yelled outside the door, Sir +Lancelot swiftly took off the armour of the dead knight, and with the +help of the queen and her waiting-women was armed in it. + +Again the knights outside had begun to dash at the door to beat it +down. Sir Lancelot, when he was armed, strode to it and cried out: + +'Let be your noise, and go away, for ye shall not prison me this night. +And I promise ye, by my knighthood, that I will appear to-morrow before +the king, and then such of ye as dare may accuse me of treason, and I +will then prove that I am a true man and no traitor.' + +'Fie on thee, false traitor,' cried Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, 'but +we will have thee this night and slay thee.' + +'Then, sirs,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'if ye will not take my counsel, +look well to yourselves.' + +With that Sir Lancelot threw the door open suddenly, and while the +others struggled and tripped over the bench between them he had run two +of them through. + +Then in that narrow antechamber there was as fierce a fight as ever +brave knight might wish to see. Sir Mordred from behind urged on the +others with evil words, telling them to slay Sir Lancelot; while he +launched at that knight all manner of foul names. + +Fiercely did Sir Lancelot fight, for he was full of rage; and as in the +narrow place in which he stood, no more than two could come at him at +once, he could not be overwhelmed by their numbers. There were ten of +them, and so full of force were his blows and so skilful his thrusts, +that in a little while seven lay slain, two were badly wounded, and the +last, who was Sir Mordred, barely escaped with his life, and bore a +deep wound with him. + +Sir Lancelot, sorely wounded, returned to the queen, and said: + +'Madam, I know not what is this treason with which they charge me; but +I doubt not it will go ill with me, for I have killed many of the kin +of the king and of Sir Gawaine this night. And I misdoubt me that the +king himself will be my foe also. Nevertheless, I will save you, if it +is in my power, from the danger that threatens you.' + +'Go ye, Sir Lancelot,' the queen besought him, 'ere the men-at-arms +come, which are so many ye may never hope to escape them. I dread me +sorely that much ill will come of this, and of the evil plots which our +enemies weave about us.' + +Then, kneeling, Sir Lancelot kissed the queen's hand, and went from the +prison; and the people who had assembled outside at the noise of the +fighting wondered to see only one knight issue forth, his armour dented +and broken, and dabbled here and there with the blood of his wounds. + +Sir Lancelot took his way to the lodging of Sir Bors, who showed his +great gladness to see him again. And when he had been unarmed and his +wounds stanched and bound, Sir Lancelot told him what had befallen him. + +'And now I beseech you,' said Sir Lancelot, 'be of good heart, in +whatever great need we stand, for now I fear war must come of it all. +But what is the treason they would charge me with I know not; yet I +dread it meaneth much evil plotting against me and the peace of this +fair kingdom.' + +'Sir,' said Sir Bors, 'your enemies and those that envy your great fame +have spread many evil reports about you. They say that you plot to slay +the king and to take Queen Gwenevere to wife, to reign over this +kingdom with you.' + +With that Sir Lancelot was so astounded that for some moments he could +not speak. Then he said: + +'By my confession unto Heaven, this is as foul a plot against me as +ever fiend could fashion. And it showeth how far they will go to pull +me down and dishonour me. And doth the king know of these evil +rumours?' + +'I know not,' replied Sir Bors, 'but I doubt not that Sir Mordred will +not rest his horse till he hath found the king and poisoned his mind +against thee.' + +'Had I known of this,' said Sir Lancelot, 'I would have brought the +queen away with me and put her in a safe place, for now I know that her +enemies and mine will not rest until she and I be slain.' + +But Sir Bors counselled him not to attempt a rescue then, for day was +breaking, the town was awake, and the court would be full of the armed +retainers of the slain knights. + +Then, while Sir Lancelot rested himself, Sir Bors went out to the +lodgings of such of his kinsmen as might not be gone with the king, and +he found that now all had returned to London with the king, that Sir +Mordred had met them on their way, and had told King Arthur of the +fight, and had, moreover, charged Sir Lancelot and the queen with +conspiring together to gain the crown. + +Sad indeed was Sir Bors to hear this; but, going about the town, he got +together the kinsmen of Sir Lancelot and such of his friends as would +cast in their lot with him in so weighty and terrible a thing as civil +war. By seven of the clock he had got together good and valiant knights +to the number of fourscore, all horsed and armed. + +Then he told them to betake themselves to a privy place in a wood +beyond the city walls to the north, and there in a little while came +Sir Lancelot with Sir Bors, and held counsel with them. He told them +all that had befallen him in the fight with the twelve knights, and +they in their turn related how Sir Mordred had met them and had told +his evil tales against the queen and Lancelot, and how for long the +king was too wroth and too sad to listen. But afterwards, when Sir +Mordred told how Sir Pinel, who had spoken of these things, had been +poisoned at the feast given by the queen, King Arthur had wept, and +then was very stern and quiet and said no word more. + +'Now, my lords,' said Sir Lancelot, when they had done speaking, 'ye +know well how evil are these plots, how baseless are these foul rumours +against me. But now they have been launched against me, and I have +slain men on account of them, I fear we shall be hard put to it to get +peace again. Those men were set on to betray me; and I doubt not mine +enemies will have the queen burnt, to revenge themselves upon her and +upon me. Therefore, fair lords, what counsel do ye give?' + +'Sir,' said Sir Bors, when they had spoken together a little, 'we think +there is but one thing to be done first: that ye knightly rescue the +queen, if your enemies force the king to put her to the stake. For if +she be burnt, then it would be to your shame, seeing that you vowed +yourself her true knight when she came, a young fair bride, to our +king, twenty years agone. And in whatsoever way ye would rescue her, ye +may count upon us to our last breath.' + +With a great shout all the other knights raised their right hands in +the air and cried: 'Yea! yea!' + +Then, by the advice of Sir Lancelot, they kept hidden in the little +wood, while one went into the city to learn what was being done, and in +what manner the queen was to be treated. + +Meanwhile, in the hall of the palace of King Arthur, men sat or stood +with anxious looks, glancing in silence at the king, as he walked up +and down apart, with a stern look on his face. + +Then Sir Mador strode forward and said: + +'Lord, I do require you to perform your promise to me, to wit, that the +queen be brought to the stake, unless one be found to do combat on her +behalf.' + +'What I have promised I will fulfil,' said the king; and men sorrowed +to see how heavy of anguish were his looks, and full of sorrow his +words. + +'Lord king,' said Sir Mordred, 'we have shamefully suffered much wrong +at the hands of Sir Lancelot. I appeal to thee that he be seized, so +that the kin of those whom he slew this last night may have vengeance +upon him.' + +Then came Sir Gawaine forward quickly, and his face was dark with anger +and his words hot. + +'Lord,' he cried, 'listen not to such tales, for I doubt not it was +only by evil plots that Sir Lancelot was forced to slay those whom he +slew. For I trust not Sir Mordred.' + +'So God us help,' said Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, 'we too will not be +known to be of the same mind as our brother Sir Mordred.' + +'Then will I do as I deem it best, to gain what I deem right,' replied +Sir Mordred. + +'I believe that thou wilt do it in thine own hidden ways,' said Sir +Gawaine, and looked fiercely at his brother, 'for in all unhappiness +and evil thou art to be found, if men but seek in the darkest place and +look for the most secret foe.' + +'I appeal to you, lord,' said Sir Mordred to the king, 'to proclaim Sir +Lancelot a false traitor to you and to your realm.' + +'And I,' said Sir Gawaine, 'will bid ye remember, lord king, that if ye +will make war between us and Sir Lancelot, there will be many kings and +great lords hold with him. And I would ask you, how many times hath Sir +Lancelot done noble deeds on our behalf and proved himself the best +knight of us all? Did he not rescue twenty of us from the dungeons of +Sir Turquine? Hath he not avenged shame upon the king and the queen, +and the fame of the Round Table many a time? Methinketh, my uncle, that +such kind deeds should be well remembered.' + +'Think ye,' said the king, 'that I am not loath to begin so evil and +terrible a thing as civil war? Man, it rendeth my heart to think it. +And I tell thee, Sir Mordred, I will not begin it, except I have proofs +of what ye charge upon Sir Lancelot. And as he is the best knight of ye +all, and the most valiant, I will not judge him before I hear him. If I +know him well, he will come hither and challenge the knight to combat +that doth bring these charges against him, and in that will I trust, +for God shall surely defend the right. Therefore, let a messenger be +sent to Sir Lancelot requiring him, by his knighthood, to appear before +me here, and make answer to the charges thou hast against him.' + +This was not as Sir Mordred desired; for he did not doubt that if Sir +Lancelot came he would have little trouble to persuade the king that he +was innocent. When the messenger was gone, therefore, Sir Mordred sent +a servant after him, who slew him in a wood and hid his body under a +bush. + +Meanwhile, Sir Mordred counselled Sir Mador to repeat his demand that +the king should cause the queen to be led to the stake, since no knight +had come forward and offered to fight for her. + +For a time the king put him off, hoping that as soon as Sir Lancelot +received his commands he would come instantly. Very anxiously did the +king look to the door, hoping to see the tall form of his best knight +come towering through the hall. + +Instead thereof came the crafty servant of Sir Mordred, throwing +himself at the feet of the king. + +'Gracious lord,' cried he, panting as if from swift running, 'I have +even now come from the place where Sir Lancelot and his friends are +hiding. I am one of their servants, but I hate their treason against +ye, and therefore I am come to tell you of this greatest treason of +all. They have slain your messenger, my lord, him that came requiring +Sir Lancelot to appear before thee. Sir Lancelot ran upon him when he +gave his message and slew him, saying, "Thus do I answer the saucy +words of him who shall not much longer be king."' + +The king looked at the face of the messenger long and sadly. The pain +which the king suffered would have softened any ordinary heart; but the +murderer was a hard and callous wretch, and his brazen eyes outlooked +the king. + +'Then is Sir Lancelot changed indeed,' said the king, and walked away +with bowed head and moist eyes. + +Sir Mador pushed forward again, repeating his demand. + +'Have it as ye will,' said the king heavily, and went quickly into his +private chamber. + +'Alas!' said Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth, 'now is the whole realm +falling to ruin, and the noble fellowship of the Round Table shall be +scattered in civil war.' + +Soon a page came to Sir Gawaine, telling him that the king would speak +to him. + +'Gawaine,' said the king, when the knight went to him, 'I have been too +easy with this knight, Sir Lancelot. He hath slain eleven knights of +the Round Table and my messenger. The pride and ambition of that man +shall have a check. His great fame for valiant deeds hath made him mad, +until it would seem that nothing but this realm will content him. Now, +therefore, as justice demands, and Sir Mador requires, do ye lead the +queen to the fire. She shall have the law as is right. Afterwards we +will seize Sir Lancelot; and know ye, he shall have a hard and shameful +death.' + +'Heaven forbid,' said Sir Gawaine, 'that ever I should see either of +these things. For I will believe not these reports of Sir Lancelot.' + +'How now?' said the king, 'truly ye have little cause to love him. This +night last past he slew Sir Agravaine, your brother, and several of +your kindred with him; and also, Sir Gawaine, remember how he slew but +lately two sons of yours in battle against the oppressing lords of the +borders.' + +'My lord,' said Sir Gawaine, 'I know these things, and for their deaths +I have grieved, but I warned them all, and as they sought their deaths +wilfully I will not avenge them, nor think worse of Sir Lancelot.' + +'Nevertheless,' said the king, 'I pray you will make ready with your +brothers, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, to take the queen to the fire, +there to have her judgment and receive her death.' + +'Nay, most noble lord,' replied the knight sadly, 'that will I never +do. I will never stand by to see so noble a queen meet so shameful a +death.' + +'Then,' said the king sadly, 'suffer your brothers, Sir Gareth and Sir +Gaheris, to be there.' + +'They are younger than I,' replied Sir Gawaine, 'and they may not say +you nay.' + +The king commanded the two brothers of Sir Gawaine to come to him, and +told them what he desired of them. + +'Sir,' said Sir Gareth, 'it is in your power to command us to lead the +queen to her shameful end; but wit you well it is sore against our +will. We will go as ye bid, but it shall be in peaceable guise, for we +tell you straightway, we will not oppose a rescue, should any so +desire.' + +'Alas!' said Sir Gawaine, and wept, 'that ever I should live to see +this woful day.' + +Then the two knights went to the queen and sorrowfully bade her prepare +for her death. Very pale was the queen, but very quiet, for now that +this was come which she had dreaded night and day, she would bear +herself proudly like a queen, innocent as she knew she was of any +crime. + +Her ladies dressed her in her meanest garments; a priest, her +confessor, was brought to her, and she was shriven of her sins. Then +arose a weeping and a wailing and a wringing of hands among the lords +and ladies. + +Between the knights and the men-at-arms she was led through the streets +to the lists beyond the wall. Lamentation, cries of horror, and the +shrieks and sighs of women arose from the multitude which lined each +side of the narrow streets. Many were the prayers that rose from white +lips, praying God to send a miracle to rescue so sweet a lady from so +dreadful a doom. + +The city apprentices, with stout sticks in their hands, stood in bands, +and in their stout young hearts was a great rage. It was in their minds +to dash upon the guard of armoured knights, to attempt a rescue, but +they knew how vain their sticks would be against the keen blades of +swords. + +So stricken with horror were all those that looked on that they noticed +not how, when the queen and her guard issued from the gates of the +palace, a man in the coarse dress of a peasant, who was standing in the +crowd, strode swiftly away down a narrow lane. There he vaulted, with +an unpeasant-like deftness, upon a good steed that stood in the charge +of a young lad; and striking spurs in the horse's flanks, he dashed +away madly along the streets and through the northern gate into the +fields. + +Amidst the sorrowing people, with women crying and men muttering and +looking darkly at the knights about her, the queen was led to the +tilting-ground beyond the northern wall, and in the midst thereof was a +stake. To this she was fastened with a rope, and faggots of wood were +piled about her feet up to her knees. Near her stood the priest of her +household, trying to cheer her with comforting words; but the queen, +pale and without tears, seemed to be dazed and as if she did not hear +him. + +A hundred knights ranged themselves behind the queen, some on +horseback, but the most on foot. Many of them had followed the example +of Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth and stood without arms; but Sir Mador was +on his horse, fully armed, and prepared for combat. Others of his +kindred rode beside him. + +Then Sir Gaheris called upon the herald to proclaim what the king had +commanded. + +'In the name of the king,' cried the herald, 'the queen hath been found +guilty of the death of a knight by treason and poison, and his kinsmen +have demanded due judgment upon her. But if any knight shall take upon +himself to do battle for her, let him appear instantly. If none do +appear, then shall she suffer the death by burning as the law doth +appoint.' + +The herald ceased; the people in the seats, craning this way and that, +looked eagerly up and down the lists to see if any knight came. + +They saw Sir Mador, in the forefront of the troop of mounted knights, +glance about him; but no armed man moved forward to do battle for the +innocence of the queen. Then he looked to where she stood, pale and +still, and men saw him smile faintly, as if his cruel heart already +rejoiced to think that she would surely burn. + +A great stillness was on the multitude of people. The eyes of all the +citizens of London were bent upon that long wide space of sand within +the lists; many, blurred by tears, could not bear to look at the white +figure in the midst of the faggots. + +Men and women held their breath. They saw Sir Mador look towards Sir +Gaheris, as if to ask him why he delayed giving the signal for the +executioner to go forward to do his duty. + +Sir Gaheris stood looking down the lists towards the great entrance. +His brother, Sir Gareth, was beside him, and in the hearts of both were +prayers which asked that something might happen to prevent them doing +this dreadful deed upon their fair queen. + +'I do call upon you, Sir Gaheris, to fulfil the law!' + +Sir Mador's harsh voice rang out in the silence, startling all. With +the sound, Sir Gaheris threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. He +turned to the executioner, who stood beside a cauldron of fire, and +pointed to the queen. + +Horror held the great multitude in silence, and all eyes watched the +man put his torch in the fire, and then carry it blazing towards the +faggots. + +Suddenly men heard a strange throbbing sound, as if from a distance; +then quickly it changed into the fierce beat of horses' hoofs; and +before many could realise what it meant, through the great gate at the +end of the lists dashed knights in armour, on horses whose foam-flecked +trappings showed at what a speed they had come. + +At the head of them rode a great knight; and as men caught the device +upon his shield a great roar of gladness burst from the throats of the +people, while women sobbed for joy. + +'Sir Lancelot! Sir Lancelot to the rescue!' was the cry. + +As the knights entered, Sir Mador's quick commands sounded, and the +knights about him ran forward and surrounded the queen. They had barely +reached the place when, with a great crashing sound, the party of Sir +Lancelot was upon them. Many of Sir Mador's people were at once thrown +headlong to the ground by the force of the shock; but the others fought +fiercely. + +This way and that the battle swayed; Sir Mador trying to thrust the +others from the fire, and Sir Lancelot's kinsmen striving to reach the +queen. All was in confusion; the knights on foot were mingled with +those on horseback, and many were cut down who did not bear arms. + +Full of a mad wrath was Sir Lancelot, as he raged among the knights +that stood about the faggots; nor could any withstand him. So blind was +he in his fury that he knew not whom he slew, except that they were men +who stood between him and the queen. + +So, by great mischance, at this rushing and hurtling, he slew two +knights and knew not that they were unarmed, and that they were of +those he loved most. One was Sir Gareth, whom he had himself knighted, +and the other was Sir Gaheris. In very truth Sir Lancelot knew them +not; and afterwards they were found dead where the corpses lay +thickest. + +Short but very fierce was that battle, for none could long withstand +the fury of Sir Lancelot and his kinsmen. Many were slain on both +sides; Sir Mador had his head sheared from his shoulders by a stroke of +Sir Lancelot's sword, and the remnant of his party fled. + +Then Sir Lancelot rode to the queen, cut her bonds, and lifted her upon +his horse full tenderly. Her eyes streamed with tears as she returned +thanks to God for her deliverance, and hardly could she tell her +gratitude to Sir Lancelot. + +Thus, with the continued praises of the people in his ears, Sir +Lancelot fared forth amidst his kinsmen, and taking the road northwards +he rode with the queen to his own castle of Joyous Gard. + +'For,' said he, 'I will keep the queen in safety until I know that the +king is assured of our innocence of any treason against him. But I +doubt our enemies have poisoned his mind, for never else would he have +suffered her to go to the stake.' + +But therein was Sir Lancelot in great error, as in much grief and +remorse he came later to see; for if instantly he had taken the queen +to the king, and had dared his enemies to prove his treason and the +queen's, they would have been instantly discountenanced, and King +Arthur would have known and loved him as he had ever done, for a true +knight and a peerless one. + +Nevertheless, Sir Lancelot would ever have had the hatred of Sir +Gawaine, which was caused by his slaying, though unwittingly, the two +good knights, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth; whereof came great bale and +sorrow. + + + + +XII + +OF SIR GAWAINE'S HATRED, AND THE WAR WITH SIR LANCELOT + + +King Arthur, in the hall of his palace in London, walked quickly up and +down, thinking in great grief of the death of his queen. A group of +pages stood quietly in the shadow by the door, and two or three knights +gazed silently at the moody king. + +Suddenly there came the sound of running footsteps; a man dashed into +the hall, and threw himself at the feet of the king. It was a squire of +Sir Mordred's, and he craved leave to speak. 'Say on,' said the king. + +'My lord,' said the man, 'Sir Lancelot hath rescued the queen from the +fire and hath slain some thirty of your knights, and he and his kin +have taken the queen among them away to some hiding-place.' + +King Arthur stood for a little while dumb for pure sorrow; then, +turning away, he wrung his hands and cried with a voice whose sadness +pierced every heart: + +'Alas, that ever I bare a crown, for now is the fairest fellowship of +knights that ever the world held, scattered and broken.' + +'Further, my lord,' went on the man, as others came into the hall, 'Sir +Lancelot hath slain the brethren of Sir Gawaine, and they are Sir +Gaheris and Sir Gareth.' + +The king looked from the man to the knights that now surrounded him, as +if that which he heard was past all belief. + +'Is this truth?' he asked them, and all were moved at the sorrow on +his face and in his voice. + +'Yea, lord,' said they. + +'Then, fair fellows,' he said, very heavily, 'I charge you that no man +tell Sir Gawaine of the death of his two brothers; for I am sure that +when he heareth that his loved younger brother, Sir Gareth, is slain, +he will nigh go out of his mind for sorrow and anger.' + +The king strode up and down the chamber, wringing his hands in the +grief he could not utter. + +'Why, oh why, did he slay them?' he cried out at length. 'He himself +knighted Sir Gareth when he went to fight the oppressor of the Lady +Lyones, and Sir Gareth loved him above all others.' + +'That is truth,' said some of the knights, and could not keep from +tears to see the king's grief, 'but they were slain in the hurtling +together of the knights, as Sir Lancelot dashed in the thick of the +press. He wist not whom he smote, so blind was his rage to get to the +queen at the stake.' + +'Alas! alas!' said the king. 'The death of them will cause the +greatest woful war that ever was in this fair realm. I see ruin before +us all--rent and ruined shall we be, and all peace for ever at an end.' + +Though the king had forbidden any of his knights to tell Sir Gawaine of +the death of his two brothers, Sir Mordred called his squire aside, and +bade him go and let Sir Gawaine know all that had happened. + +'Do you see to it,' he told the man, 'that thou dost inflame his mind +against Sir Lancelot.' + +The knave went to Sir Gawaine, and found him walking on the terrace of +the palace overlooking the broad quiet Thames, where the small trading +ships sailed up and down the river on their ways to and from Gaul and +the ports of the Kentish coast. + +'Sir,' said the squire, doffing his cap and bowing, 'great and woful +deeds have been toward this day. The queen hath been rescued by Sir +Lancelot and his kin, and some thirty knights were slain in the melee +about the stake.' + +'Heaven defend my brethren,' said Sir Gawaine, 'for they went unarmed. +But as for Sir Lancelot, I guessed he would try a rescue, and I had +deemed him no man of knightly worship if he had not. But, tell me, how +are my brethren. Where be they?' + +'Alas, sir,' said the man, 'they be slain.' + +The grim face of Sir Gawaine went pale, and with an iron hand he seized +the shoulder of the squire and shook him in his rage. + +'Have a care, thou limb of Mordred's, if thou speakest lies,' he said. +'I would not have them dead for all this realm and its riches. Where is +my young brother, Sir Gareth?' + +'Sir, I tell ye truth,' said the man, 'for I know how heavy would be +your anger if I lied in this. Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris are slain, and +all good knights are mourning them, and in especial the king our +master.' + +Sir Gawaine took a step backwards and his face went pale and then it +darkened with rage. + +'Tell me who slew them?' he thundered. + +'Sir,' replied the man, 'Sir Lancelot slew them both.' + +'False knave!' cried Sir Gawaine, 'I knew thou didst lie.' + +He struck the man a great buffet on the head, so that he fell half +dazed to the ground. + +'Ha! ha! thou lying talebearer!' laughed Sir Gawaine, half relieved of +his fears, yet still half doubtful. 'To tell me that Sir Lancelot slew +them! Why, man, knowest thou of whom thou pratest? Sir Lancelot to slay +my dear young brother Gareth! Why, man, Gareth loved Sir Lancelot as he +loved me--not more than he loved me, but near as much; and Sir Lancelot +was ever proud of him. 'Twas he that knighted my young brother Gareth, +brave and hearty, noble of mind and goodly of look! He would have stood +with Lancelot against the king himself, so greatly he loved him. And +thou--thou foul-mouth!--thou tellest me that Lancelot hath slain him! +Begone from my sight, thou split-tongue!' + +'Nevertheless, Sir Gawaine,' said the man, rising, 'Sir Lancelot slew +them both in his rage. As he would--saving your presence--have slain +you had you stood between him and the queen at the stake.' + +At these words, stubbornly spoken in spite of the furious looks of Sir +Gawaine, the knight realised that the man was speaking the truth. + +His look was fixed on the face of the knave, and rage and grief filled +his eyes as he grasped the fact that his beloved brother was really +slain. Then the blood surged into his face, and he dashed away. + +Men started to see the wild figure of Sir Gawaine rushing through the +passages, his eyes bloodshot, his face white. At length he dashed into +the presence of the king. Arthur stood sorrowing amidst his knights, +but Sir Gawaine rushed through them and faced the king. + +'Ha! King Arthur!' he cried, half breathless, but in a great wild +voice, 'my good brother, Sir Gareth, is slain, and also Sir Gaheris! I +cannot bear the thought of them slain. It cannot be true! I cannot +believe it!' + +'Nay, nor can any think upon it,' said the king, 'and keep from +weeping.' + +'Ay, ay,' said Sir Gawaine in a terrible voice, 'there shall be +weeping, I trow, and that erelong. Sir, I will go see my dead brothers. +I would kiss them ere they be laid in earth.' + +'Nay, that may not be,' said the king gently. 'I knew how great would +be thy sorrow, and that sight of them would drive thee mad. And I have +caused them to be interred instantly.' + +'Tell me,' said Gawaine, and men marvelled to see the wild look in his +eyes and to hear the fierce voice, 'is it truth that Sir Lancelot slew +them both?' + +'It is thus told me,' said the King, 'that in his fury Sir Lancelot +knew not whom he smote.' + +'But, man,' thundered Sir Gawaine, 'they bare no arms against him! +Their hearts were with him, and young Gareth loved him as if--as if +Lancelot was his own brother.' + +'I know it, I know it,' replied King Arthur. 'But men say they were +mingled in the thick press of the fight, and Lancelot knew not friend +from foe, but struck down all that stood between him and the queen.' + +For a space Sir Gawaine was silent, and men looked upon him with awe +and compassion. His mane of hair, grizzled and wild, was thrown back +upon his shoulders, and his eyes flamed with a glowing light as of +fire. Suddenly he stepped up to the king, and lifting his right hand +said, in a voice that trembled With rage: + +'My lord, my king, and mine uncle, wit you well that now I make oath by +my knighthood, that from this day I will seek Sir Lancelot and never +rest till he be slain or he slay me. Therefore, my lord king, and you, +my fellow knights and lords, I require you all to prepare yourselves +for war; for, know you, though I ravage this land and all the lands of +Christendom, I will not rest me nor slake my revenge until I come up to +Lancelot and drive my sword into his evil heart.' + +With that Sir Gawaine strode from the room, and for a space all men +were silent, so fierce and full of hatred had been his words. + +'I see well,' said the king, 'that the death of these twain knights +will cause the deadliest war that hath ever raged, and never shall we +have rest until Gawaine do slay Lancelot or is slain by him. O +Lancelot! Lancelot! my peerless knight, that ever thou shouldst be the +cause of the ruin of this my fair kingdom!' + +None that heard the king could keep from tears; and many felt that in +this quarrel the king's heart was not set, except for the sake of Sir +Gawaine, his nephew, and all his kin. + +Then there were made great preparations in London and all the lands +south of Trent, with sharpening of swords and spears, making of harness +and beating of smiths' hammers on anvils. + +Men's minds were in sore distress, and the faces of the citizens were +long and white with dismay. Daily the quarrel caused other quarrels. +Many a group of knights came to high words, some taking the side of +Lancelot and the queen, and others that of the king and Sir Gawaine. +Often they came to blows, and one or other of their number would be +left writhing and groaning on the ground. + +Families broke up in bad blood by reason of it, for the sons would avow +their intent to go and enlist with Lancelot, while the fathers, in high +anger at such disloyalty to Arthur, would send their tall sons away, +bidding them never to look upon their faces again. + +Women sorrowed and wept, for whichever side they took, it meant that +one or other of their dear ones was opposed to them, and would go to +battle, fighting against those of their own kin and of their own +hearths. + +Towards midsummer the host was ready, and took the road to the north. +The quarrel had been noised abroad throughout Britain, and many kings, +dukes and barons came to the help of Arthur, so that his army was a +great multitude. Yet many others had gone to Lancelot, where he lay in +his castle of Joyous Gard, not far from Carlisle. + +Thither, in the month of July, when the husbandmen were looking to +their ripening fields and thinking of harvest, King Arthur and Sir +Gawaine drew with their army and laid a siege against the castle of +Joyous Gard, and against the walled town which it protected. But for +all their engines of war, catapults which threw great stones, and +ramming irons which battered the walls, they could not make a way into +the place, and so lay about it until harvest time. + +One day, as Queen Gwenevere stood at a window of the castle, she looked +down at the tents of the besieging host, and her gaze lingered on the +purple tent of King Arthur, with the banner of the red dragon on the +pole above it. As she looked, she saw her husband issue from the tent +and begin to walk up and down alone in a place apart. Very moody did he +seem, as he strode to and fro with bent head. Sometimes he looked +towards Joyous Gard, and then his face had a sad expression upon it +which went to the queen's heart. + +She went to Sir Lancelot, and said: + +'Sir Lancelot, I would that this dreadful war were done, and that thou +wert again friends and in peace with my dear lord. Something tells me +that he sorrows to be at enmity with thee. Thou wert his most famous +knight and brought most worship to the fellowship of the Round Table. +Wilt thou not try to speak to my lord? Tell him how evil were the false +reports of the conspiracy against him, and that we are innocent of any +treason against him and this dear land.' + +'Lady,' said Sir Lancelot, 'on my knighthood I will try to accord with +my lord. If our enemies have not quite poisoned his thoughts of us, he +may listen and believe.' + +Thereupon Sir Lancelot caused his trumpeter to sound from the walls, +and ask that King Arthur would hold a parley with him. This was done, +and Sir Pentred, a knight of King Arthur's, took the message to the +king. + +In a little while King Arthur, with Sir Gawaine and a company of his +counsellors and knights, came beneath the walls, and the trumpeters +blew a truce, and the bowmen ceased from letting fly their arrows and +the men-at-arms from throwing spears. + +Then Sir Lancelot came down to a narrow window in the gate-tower, and +cried out to the king: + +'Most noble king, I think that neither of us may get honour from this +war. Cannot we make an end of it?' + +'Ay,' cried Sir Gawaine, his face red with anger, and shaking his +mailed fist at Lancelot, 'come thou forth, thou traitor, and we will +make an end of thee.' + +'Come forth,' said the king, 'and I will meet thee on the field. Thou +hast slain thirty of my good knights, taken my queen from me, and +plunged this realm in ruin.' + +'Nay, lord, it was not I that caused this war,' said Sir Lancelot. 'I +had been but a base knight to have suffered the noble lady my queen to +be burned at the stake. And it passes me, my lord king, how thou +couldst ever think to suffer her to be burned.' + +'She was charged with poisoning a knight who slandered her,' said the +king. 'I must see justice done on high and low, and though it grieved +me to condemn her, I could do naught else. Moreover, if Sir Pinel spoke +true, both you and she were conspiring to slay me and to rule this +kingdom in my stead.' + +'A foul lie, a black calumny!' cried Sir Lancelot fiercely. 'And I +would answer for it with the strength which God might give me on any +six of your knights that may say I am so black a traitor. I tell you, +my lord king, and I swear it on my knighthood, and may death strike me +now if I lie, that neither I nor the queen have ever had evil thoughts +against your person, nor had designs upon your crown.' + +At so solemn an oath men stood still and waited, for few doubted in +those days that if a man who took so great an oath was speaking +falsely, fire from heaven would instantly descend and consume him. + +The moments passed and nothing happened, and men breathed again. + +Sir Lancelot looked at the face of King Arthur, and saw by the light +upon it that the king believed him; and Sir Lancelot rejoiced in his +heart. + +He saw the king turn to Sir Gawaine with a questioning air, as if he +would ask what more his nephew wanted. But next moment, with a harsh +laugh, Sir Gawaine spoke. + +'Hark ye, Sir Lancelot, thou mayest swear to Heaven as to some things, +and there are those that may be moved by thy round oaths. But this I +charge upon thee, thou false, proud knight, that thou didst slay two +unarmed men--men that loved thee and worshipped thee! Forsooth, thou +boastful braggart and mouthing hero, thou wilt not dare to deny it!' + +Sad was the face and voice of Sir Lancelot as he made reply. + +'I cannot hope to find excuse from you,' he said, 'for I cannot and +never will forgive myself. I would as lief have slain my nephew, Sir +Bors, as slay young Sir Gareth whom I loved, and Gaheris his brother. +Sorrow is on me for that! I was mad in my rage and did not see them. +Only I knew that many knights stood between me and the queen, and I +slew all that seemed to bar my passage.' + +'Thou liest, false, recreant knight!' cried Sir Gawaine, whose grief by +now had made him mad with the lust for revenge; 'thou slewest them in +thy pride, to despite me and the king, because we had permitted the +queen to go to the stake. Thou coward and traitor! Therefore, wit thee +well, Sir Lancelot, I will not quit this quest until I feel my sword +thrusting into thy evil heart.' + +'Sorrow is on me,' said Sir Lancelot, 'to know that thou dost so +hatefully pursue me. If thou didst not, I think my lord the king would +give me his good grace again, and receive back his queen and believe us +innocent.' + +'I believe it well, false, recreant knight!' cried Sir Gawaine, full of +rage to know that the king verily wished to have peace; 'but know ye +that while I live, my good uncle will make war upon thee, and at last +we will have thee in spite of thy castle walls and thy skill in battle. +And then I will have thy head.' + +'I trust ye for that,' said Sir Lancelot, 'for I see that thy hatred +hath crazed thee. So, if ye may get me, I shall expect no mercy.' + +Then, seeing how useless it was to keep up the parley any longer, Sir +Lancelot withdrew. Next day spies brought in word to Sir Lancelot that, +at a council of his chief men, the king had said he would take back his +queen and make peace with Sir Lancelot; but that Sir Gawaine had +fiercely told him that if he did not keep up the war until Sir Lancelot +was taken or slain, he and all the kin of Lot would break away from the +realm and their allegiance. Indeed, it was rumoured that Sir Gawaine +would have made the king prisoner had he not yielded; and so powerful +was Sir Gawaine and the lords that followed him, that none could have +been strong enough to withstand them. + +Sir Gawaine, yearning, by reason of his hatred, to get Sir Lancelot out +of his castle to fight with him, now sent knights to cry out shame upon +him under his walls. Thus they marched up and down, calling out +insulting names and charging him with dishonourable deeds. + +Until at length the very men-at-arms that kept watch upon Sir +Lancelot's walls reddened for shame, and hurled down spears and stones +at the foul mouths. Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Lionel, they +also heard the words, and going to the other knights of Sir Lancelot, +took counsel with them, and decided that this could no longer be +suffered. + +Together they went to Sir Lancelot and said to him: + +'Wit ye well, my lord, that we feel great scorn of the evil words which +Sir Gawaine spoke unto you when that ye parleyed with him, and also of +these shameful names which men call upon ye for all the citizens to +hear. Wherefore, we charge you and beseech you, if ye will to keep our +service, hold us no longer behind these walls, but let us out, in the +name of Heaven and your fair name, and have at these rascals.' + +'Fair friends,' replied Sir Lancelot, 'I am full loth to fight against +my dear lord, King Arthur.' + +'But if ye will not,' said Sir Lionel, his brother, 'all men will say +ye fear to stir from these walls, and hearing the shameful words they +cry, will say that there must be truth in them if ye seek not to +silence them.' + +They spoke long with Sir Lancelot, and at length he was persuaded; and +he sent a message to the king telling him that he would come out and do +battle; but that, for the love he bore the king, he prayed he would not +expose his person in the fight. + +But Sir Gawaine returned answer that this was the king's quarrel, and +that the king would fight against a traitor knight with all his power. + +On the morrow, at nine in the morning, King Arthur drew forth his host, +and Sir Lancelot brought forth his array. When they stood facing each +other, Sir Lancelot addressed his men and charged all his knights to +save King Arthur from death or wounds, and for the sake of their old +friendship with Sir Gawaine, to avoid battle with him also. + +Then, with a great hurtling and crashing, the knights ran together, and +much people were there slain. The knights of Sir Lancelot did great +damage among the king's people, for they were fierce knights, and +burned to revenge themselves for the evil names they had heard. + +Sir Gawaine raged like a lion through the field, seeking Sir Lancelot, +and many knights did he slay or overthrow. Once, indeed, King Arthur, +dashing through the fight, came upon Sir Lancelot. + +'Now, Sir Lancelot,' he cried, 'defend thee, for thou art the causer of +this civil war.' + +At these words he struck at Sir Lancelot with his sword; but Sir +Lancelot took no means to defend himself, and put down his own sword +and shield, as if he could not put up arms against his king. At this +the king was abashed and put down his sword, and looked sorrowfully +upon Sir Lancelot. + +Then the surging tide of battle poured between them and separated them, +until it happened that Sir Bors saw King Arthur at a little distance. +With a spear the knight rushed at the king, and so fierce was his +stroke and hardy his blow that the king was stricken to the ground. + +Whereupon Sir Bors leapt from his horse and drew his sword and ran +towards the king. But some one called upon him, and looking up he saw +Sir Lancelot riding swiftly towards him. + +Sir Bors held the king down upon the ground by the nose-piece of his +helm, and in his other hand he held his naked sword. + +Looking up to Sir Lancelot, he cried in a fierce voice: + +'Cousin, shall I make an end of this war? 'Twere easy done.' + +He meant that, if the king were slain, Sir Gawaine would lose half his +forces, and could not hope to keep up the war against Sir Lancelot +singlehanded. + +'Nay, nay,' said Sir Lancelot, 'on peril of thy head touch not the +king. Let him rise, man. I will not see that most noble king, who made +me knight and once loved me, either slain or shamed.' + +Sir Lancelot, leaping from his horse, went and raised the king, and +held the stirrup of his horse while the king mounted again. + +'My lord Arthur,' said Lancelot, looking up at the king, 'I would in +the name of Heaven that ye cause this war to cease, for none of us +shall get honour by it. And though I forbear to strike you and I try to +avoid my former brothers and friends of the Round Table, they do +continually seek to slay me and will not avoid me.' + +King Arthur looked upon Lancelot, and thought how nobly courteous was +he more than any other knight. The tears burst from the king's eyes and +he could not speak, and sorrowfully he rode away and would fight no +more, but commanded the trumpets to cease battle. Whereupon Sir +Lancelot also drew off his forces, and the dead were buried and the +wounded were tended. + +Next morning the battle was joined again. Very fiercely fought the +king's party, for Sir Gawaine had commanded that no quarter should be +given, and that whoever slew a knight of Sir Lancelot's should have his +helm filled with gold. Sir Gawaine himself raged like a lion about the +field, his spear in rest. He sought for Sir Lancelot; but that knight +always avoided him, and great was Gawaine's rage and scorn. + +At length Sir Bors saw Sir Gawaine from afar, and spurred across the +field towards him. + +'Ha! Sir Bors,' cried the other mockingly, 'if ye will find that +cowardly cousin of thine, and bring him here to face me, I will love +thee.' + +''Twere well I should not take thy words seriously,' mocked Sir Bors in +his turn. 'For if I were to bring him to thee, thou wouldst sure repent +it. Never yet hath he failed to give thee thy fall, for all thy pride +and fierceness.' + +This was truth. Often in the jousting of earlier days, when Sir +Lancelot had come in disguise and had been compelled to fight Sir +Gawaine, the latter had had the worst. But Sir Lancelot, loving his old +brother-in-arms as he did, had in later years avoided the assault with +Sir Gawaine; yet the greater prowess and skill of Sir Lancelot were +doubted by none. + +Sir Gawaine raged greatly at the words of Sir Bors, for he knew they +were true, though he had wished they were not. + +'Thy vaunting of thy recreant kinsman's might will not avail thee,' he +cried furiously. 'Defend thyself!' + +'I came to have to do with thee,' replied Sir Bors fiercely. 'Yesterday +thou didst slay my cousin Lionel. To-day, if God wills it, thou thyself +shall have a fall.' + +Then they set spurs to their horses and met together so furiously that +the lance of either bore a great hole in the other's armour, and both +were borne backwards off their horses, sorely wounded. Their friends +came and took them up and tended them, but for many days neither of the +knights could move from their beds. + +When the knights of Sir Lancelot saw that Sir Bors was grievously +wounded, they were wroth with their leader. Going to him, they charged +him with injuring his own cause. + +'You will not exert yourself to slay these braggart foes of yours,' +they said to him. 'What does it profit us that you avoid slaying +knights because, though they are now your bitter foes, they were once +brothers of the Round Table? Do they avoid ye, and seek not to slay you +and us your kindred and friends? Sir Lionel is dead, and he is your +brother; and Sir Galk, Sir Griffith, Sir Saffre and Sir Conan--all good +and mighty knights--are wounded sorely. Ye were ever courteous and +kindly, Sir Lancelot,' they ended, 'but have a care lest now your +courtesy ruin not your cause and us.' + +Seeing by these words that he was like to chill the hearts of his +friends if he continued to avoid slaying his enemies, Sir Lancelot +sorrowfully promised that henceforth he would not stay his hand. After +that he avoided none that came against him, though for very sorrow he +could have wept when some knight, with whom in happier times he had +drunk wine and jested at the board in Camelot, rushed at him with +shrewd strokes to slay him. + +As the fight went on, the lust of battle grew in Sir Lancelot's heart, +and manfully he fought, and with all his strength and skill he lay +about him. By the time of evensong his party stood very well, and the +king's side seemed dispirited and as if they would avoid the fierce +rushes with which Sir Lancelot's knights attacked them. + +Staying his horse, Sir Lancelot looked over the field, and sorrowed to +see how many dead there were--dead of whom many may have been slain by +their own kindred. He saw how the horses of his knights were splashed +with the blood that lay in pools here and there, and grief was heavy +upon him. + +Sir Palom, a very valiant knight, came up to him. + +'See, lord,' he cried, 'how our foes flinch from the fierce hurtling of +our knights. They are dispirited by the wounding of Sir Gawaine. Sir +Kay is also wounded, and Sir Torre is slain. Now, if ye will take my +advice, this day should cease this war once for all. Do ye gather all +your forces, lord, and I think with one great dash together ye should +scatter their wavering knights, and this field would be won.' + +'Alas!' said Sir Lancelot, 'I would not have it so. It cuts me to my +heart to war as I do against my lord Arthur, and to trample him and his +people in the mire of defeat--nay, I should suffer remorse till my last +day.' + +'My lord,' said Sir Palom, 'I think ye are unwise. Ye spare them thus +to come again against ye. They will give ye no thanks, and if they +could get you and yours at so great a disadvantage, wit you well they +would not spare you.' + +But Sir Lancelot would not be moved, and in pity he ordered the +trumpeters to sound the retreat. King Arthur did likewise, and each +party retired in the twilight from the field, where the wounded lay +groaning till death or succour came; and the dead lay still and pale, +until the kindly earth was thrown over them. + +Some weeks passed in which the armies did not meet; for the host of +King Arthur was not now so proud as they had been, seeing that they had +lost many good knights; and Sir Lancelot would not of his own will +sally out from his castle to fall upon the king. + +But ever Sir Gawaine tried to inflame the mind of King Arthur and his +kinsmen against Sir Lancelot, and he advised them to join battle with +their enemy. Moreover, from the lands of his kingdom of Lothian, of +which Sir Gawaine was now king in the place of his dead father, King +Lot, a great body of young knights and men-at-arms came; and the king's +party began to recover their courage. + +Many began daily to ride to the walls of Joyous Gard, and by insult and +evil names endeavoured to tempt forth the men of Sir Lancelot. Soon the +young knights clamoured to King Arthur and Sir Gawaine to permit them +to attack the walls, and reluctantly the king consented to call his +council for next day to devise some means of breaking down the castle. + +Headstrong was the counsel given by the young knights at that meeting, +and greatly did King Arthur sorrow to feel that, for love of his +nephew, Sir Gawaine, he would be compelled to yield to their wild +demands for further battle. + +Suddenly the door of the hall where sate the council was opened, and +the porter of the gate appeared and approached the king. + +'My lord,' he said, 'the holy Bishop of London and King Geraint of +Devon crave audience of you.' + +Some of the fierce young knights scowled at the names and uttered cries +of disgust. + +The king's face brightened, and before any could advise him against his +will, he said: + +'Bid them enter instantly.' + +'The meddling priest and the petty king that knoweth not his mind!' +sneered Sir Gawaine, looking fiercely about the room. 'I pray thee, +uncle,' he said to the king, 'listen not to their womanish persuasions, +if thou lovest me.' + +King Arthur did not answer, but looked towards the door impatiently. + +Through this there came first three priests and three armed men, and +behind them stepped an old and reverend man, the hair beside his +tonsure white as driven snow, and falling over his white robe edged +with red, that showed his rank as bishop. Then, towering above him, a +noble knightly figure, came Geraint of Devon, grown nobler still since +those noble days when he had proved himself to be a strong leader +indeed, while men had thought him soft and foolish. + +All rose to their feet in reverence to the bishop, and fondly did King +Arthur welcome Geraint, for this wise knight had from the first opposed +Sir Gawaine in this war, and had refused to fight against Sir Lancelot +and the queen, though he abated not his service to the king. + +Dark was the look which Gawaine darted at Geraint, but quiet yet +fearless was Geraint's answering gaze. + +'What ye have to say,' said Gawaine angrily, 'say it quickly and +begone. If ye are still of two minds, there seems no need to speak, and +there is no need to bring a bishop to your aid.' + +'Gawaine,' said King Geraint, and his voice was quiet, yet with a ring +of menace in it, 'I think grief hath made you a little mad. Let the +bishop speak, I pray ye. He hath a message for the king.' + +'My lord,' said the bishop, 'I come from his Holiness the Pope.' + +At these words Sir Gawaine started forward, his hand upon his sword, as +if he would willingly in his madness slay the holy priest. + +'And,' went on the bishop, his grave voice and his quiet look not +bating for all the wrathful fire in Sir Gawaine's eyes, 'I bear with me +the bull of his Holiness--see, here it is--by which his Highness doth +charge King Arthur of Britain, as he is a Christian king, to take back +Queen Gwenevere unto his love and worship, and to make peace with Sir +Lancelot.' + +The murmurs of the wild young knights rose in a sudden storm, while Sir +Gawaine glared with looks of hatred at King Geraint and the bishop. + +'And if ye do not this command,' rang out the voice of the bishop (and +there was sorrow in its tone, and silence sank on all), 'if ye do not, +then will his Holiness excommunicate this land. None of ye here have +seen so terrible a thing as a land laid under the interdict of the Holy +Church, and rarely doth she find her children so stubbornly evil as to +merit it. But the Father of the Church, seeing how this land is torn +and rent by this bitter war between brothers, and fearful lest, while +ye tear at each others' lives, the fierce and evil pagan will gain upon +ye and beat the lives from both of ye, and possess this fair island and +drive Christ and His religion from it utterly--seeing all this, his +Holiness would pronounce the doom if ye are too stiffnecked to obey +him. Then will ye see this land lie as if a curse were upon it. Your +churches will be shut, and the relics of the holy saints will be laid +in ashes, the priests will not give prayers nor the Church its holy +offices; and the dead shall lie uncoffined, for no prayers may be said +over them. Say, then, King Arthur of Britain, what shall be the answer +to the command of his Holiness which here I lay before thee.' + +With these words the bishop held a parchment rolled out between his +hands before the eyes of the king. Men craned forward and saw the black +writing on the white skin, and the great seals, or bulls, hanging from +it whereon those who could read saw the device of the Pope of Rome. + +'Say, is this thy doing?' cried Sir Gawaine fiercely, looking at King +Geraint. 'Didst thou send this meddling priest to Rome to get this?' + +'That did I,' replied Geraint. + +'Then now I make this vow,' thundered Sir Gawaine, 'that though thou +hast balked me of my vengeance now, I will mark thee, thou king of two +minds, and be thou sure that erelong I will avenge me of this +treachery, and that upon thy body and in thy blood.' + +'I mark thy words, Sir Gawaine,' said Geraint, whose eyes flashed +fiercely, though his voice was calm, 'and I say again thou art mad. I +will tell thee and the king, our lord and master, why I did advise the +holy bishop to go to Rome and get the Pope's command. First, as ye all +know, I did think this war a wicked one beyond all measure, and ever +have I raised my voice against it. And what I foresaw has come to pass. +As the good priest saith, while ye tore at each other's throats here in +the furthest marches of the north, the sly, fierce pagan, learning how +all the land was rent and weakened by this evil war, has crept up in +his longships, he has landed at many solitary places on the coast, and +has spread far and wide throughout the land, burning and slaughtering. +The long files of his captives, our kinsmen, go day by day, even as ye +fight here, brother with brother, down to the black ships, and ye do +naught to save them or avenge them. Already have I, in my office as +Count of the Saxon Shore, battered them back to their ships at Lemanis, +Llongporth and Rutupiae; but here in the north, for all that the old +lion, Uriens of Reged, worn with war and full of age, hath taken the +field against them, here, behind your backs as ye battle, kin with kin, +a great and a stubborn pagan, whom men call Hyring the Land-waster, +hath entered the land and still prevails. Crafty he is and strong, for +he hath made treaties with some of our weaker kin, and their women he +hath taken in marriage for his leaders, and thus in our very midst +there is treachery, hand-in-hand with the brutal invaders. Yet still +you, Gawaine, are so mad, so lost to all care for your nation's weal, +that you would see your people ruined and your land possessed by the +savage boars of Saxons, while ye slake your vengeance for a private +wrong. If still you so would do, I call you traitor, and, by the grace +of God, I will make good my words upon your body, when we have thrust +the pagan from the land and peace is within our borders once again.' + +While the thunder of his noble anger still rolled through the wide +hall, King Arthur arose, and men marked the resolution in his eyes. + +'I will that there be no more war,' he said, and he looked sternly at +Gawaine. 'Geraint hath spoken the truth, and the truth shall prevail. I +repent me that I have so long forgotten the needs of my kingdom. Do +thou now, good bishop, go to Sir Lancelot, tell him that I will make +peace with him and that I will receive back my queen. And do thou, good +Geraint, fare south again. I thank thee from my heart for what thou +hast done. Would to Heaven that all my knights were as clean-souled and +as single-minded in devotion unto me as thou art. Do thou go and fulfil +thy great office. Watch thou the coasts as hitherto thou hast watched +them; and soon I will follow to aid thee, should the foul and savage +pagans strive again to break into my realm.' + +But, after all, Sir Gawaine had his way in part. The bishop took the +king's assurance, sealed with his great seal, whereby he promised Sir +Lancelot that he should come and go safe from murder or sudden onset, +and desiring him to bring the queen to the king at his hall at +Carlisle. But in that parchment was no word of reconciliation with Sir +Lancelot. Sir Gawaine fiercely told the king that the day on which he, +the king, should clasp the hand of Lancelot in friendship, he, Sir +Gawaine, with all his vassals and his men, would leave the kingdom. So +deep and burning was the hatred which Gawaine bore Sir Lancelot that he +even threatened that, if his will was not granted, he would join the +pagans and fight against the king. + +So shamed and saddened was the king at these words that, to put an end +to his nephew's rage, he consented to do as he desired. Therefore, +though the bishop strove to persuade the king to make his peace with +Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawaine's will was done, and the bishop went sadly to +Joyous Gard. + +He showed his writings to Sir Lancelot and the queen, and both were +sorrowful in that no word of reconciliation was said. + +'I will do my lord's desire,' said the knight, 'but I see that Sir +Gawaine's hatred of me is in no way abated. Nevertheless, do thou ride, +my lord bishop, to the king. Commend me unto his good grace, and say to +him that in five days I will myself bring my lady, Queen Gwenevere, +unto him as he doth desire.' + +On the day appointed, as the king sat in hall at Carlisle, surrounded +by his knights and their ladies, with Sir Gawaine standing on the high +seat beside him, there came the beat of many hoofs, and into the town +rode Sir Lancelot with the queen, knights and squires accompanying +them. They reined up at the wide door of the hall, and Sir Lancelot +alighted, and having helped the queen to dismount, he took her hand, +and led her through the ranks of knights and ladies to where sat King +Arthur. + +Sir Lancelot kneeled upon the edge of the dais, and the queen with him; +and to see so noble a knight and so beautiful a lady, sad of +countenance as they were, forced many a tear to the eyes of the knights +and dames who looked on. Then, rising, and taking up the queen, Sir +Lancelot spoke: + +'My most redoubted lord,' he said, 'you shall understand that by the +pope's commandment and yours I have brought unto you my lady your +queen, as right requireth; and if there be any knight here, of any +degree, who shall say that she or I have ever thought to plot treason +against your person or your crown, or the peace of this realm, then do +I say here and now that I, Lancelot du Lake, will make it good upon his +body, that he lies. And, my gracious lord, if this is all that there is +between you, my king, and myself, there need be naught of ill thought +between us, but only peace and goodwill. But I wist well that one that +hates me will not suffer ye to do what is in your good and kingly +heart.' + +Sternly did Sir Lancelot look at Sir Gawaine, while the tears gushed +from King Arthur's eyes, and from the eyes of many that heard Sir +Lancelot's sad words. + +Fierce and dark was the look which Sir Gawaine returned to Sir +Lancelot. + +'The king may do as he will,' he said harshly and in a loud voice, 'but +wit thou well, Sir Lancelot, thou and I shall never be at peace till +one of us be slain; for thou didst slay my twain brothers, though they +bore no harness against thee nor any ill will. Yet traitorously thou +didst slay them!' + +'Alas, my lord,' said Sir Lancelot, and the tears bedewed his face, 'I +cannot ask you for your forgiveness for that deed, unwitting though it +was done and in my madness. Would to Heaven they had worn harness! Wit +you well that ever will I bewail the death of my dear friend, Sir +Gareth. 'Twas I that made him knight, and ever did I delight to see +him, to hear his manly laugh ring out, and to see the light in his +brave eyes that never suffered a mean or evil action. I wot he loved me +above all other knights, and there was none of my kinsmen that I loved +so much as I loved him. Ever will the sorrow of the death of thy +brethren lie upon my soul; and to make some small amends I will, if my +lord will suffer it and it will please you, Sir Gawaine, I will walk in +my shirt and barefoot from Lemanis even unto this town, and at every +ten miles I will found a holy house, and endow it with monks to pray +for the souls of Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris. Surely, Sir Gawaine, that +will do more good unto their souls than that my most noble lord and you +should war on me.' + +Every cheek was wet and the tears of the king fell from his eyes, yet +made he no effort to restrain or hide them. + +'Out upon such monkish deeds!' cried Sir Gawaine, and his scornful eyes +surveyed the weeping knights and dames. 'Know thee, once for all, that +never shalt thou wipe away the treacherous murder of my brothers but by +thy blood. Ye are safe now for a season, for the pope hath given you +safety, but in this land--whatever comes of it I care not--thou shalt +not abide above fifteen days, or else I shall have thy head. So make ye +no more ado; but deliver the queen from thee, and get thee quickly out +of this court and out of this realm.' + +'Well,' said Sir Lancelot, and laughed grimly, 'if I had known I should +have so short an answer to my proffers of peace, I had thought twice +ere I had come hither. But now, madam,' he said, turning to the weeping +queen beside him, 'I must say farewell to ye, for now do I depart from +this noble fellowship and this dear realm for ever. Pray for me, and +send me word if any lying tongues speak evil of you, and if any +knight's hand may deliver you by battle, believe me mine shall so +deliver you.' + +With these words Sir Lancelot bent and kissed the queen's hand, and so +turned away and departed. There was neither king, baron, knight nor +squire of all that great company who did not weep, nor think that Sir +Gawaine had been of most evil mind to refuse the noble proffers of Sir +Lancelot. + +Heavy was King Arthur ever thereafter, and never might man see his face +brighten nor hear his laugh; and the better of his knights sorrowed +with him, and knew what was in his heart. + +'In this realm will be no more quiet,' said Sir Owen of the Fountain to +his fellows as they stood upon the walls of Carlisle and saw the band +of Sir Lancelot riding southwards, the sunlight flashing from their +helms and armour. 'The pagans have gathered strength daily while we +have fought with each other, and that which would have given us the +strength and the union which would hurl them from our coasts is +shattered and broken. By the noble fellowship of the Round Table was +King Arthur and his realm borne up, and by their nobleness the king and +all his realm was in quietness and in peace. And a great part,' he +ended, 'was because of the noble nature of Sir Lancelot, whom Sir +Gawaine's mad rage hath driven from the kingdom. Nor is all the evil +ended yet.' + + + + +XIII + +OF THE REBELLION OF MORDRED AND THE DEATH OF KING ARTHUR + + +When Sir Lancelot and all his men had left the realm of Britain and had +betaken themselves to Brittany, where Sir Lancelot had a kingdom of his +own, the Saxons began to increase in Britain, both in strength and +numbers. Almost daily a long black ship, crammed with pagans, was +sighted from some part of the coast; and the British, praying that the +fierce pirates would not visit their homes, would watch the terrible +warship till it passed; or else, caught unawares, would have to flee +inland in a breathless panic when the dragon-headed prow loomed through +the sea-mist, and the barbarous warriors swarmed over the sides and ran +knee-deep in the water, their eyes gleaming with the joy of killing and +their hands eager for the looting. + +Then King Arthur made ready a great host, and for two years he fought +in the northern parts against the bands of the pirates. Swift were the +blows he struck, for the great wide Roman roads were still open, not +grass-grown and deserted, and with his mounted knights and men he could +ride quickly from place to place, striking fiercely and scattering the +foul pagans. + +Ten was the number of these battles which he fought in the north, six +against the Saxon pirates and four against the wild cats of Caledonia, +whom men call Picts and Scots, and who had ventured south in greater +numbers as soon as they heard how the king warred with his lords and +the rich land was open to plunder. Two others he fought in the south, +one against an insolent band of pirates who dared even to attack his +palace-city of Caerleon-upon-Usk. But so heavy and deadly a blow did he +strike at them then, that from that battle barely a dozen pagans were +left to flee like fire to their ships. + +Not without loss of many of his brave warriors did Arthur win these +battles, for the pagans were good men of their hands and not easily +were they beaten. Saddest of all was the loss of the noble Geraint, +who, thrusting back the pirates once again from the harbour of +Llongporth, got his death there with many of his valiant men. + +When the fame of King Arthur's prowess and the might of his knights had +gone abroad among the pagans, they were afraid and would not venture in +great numbers to invade the land again, and there was peace and rest in +Britain for a space. + +Then Sir Gawaine, remembering his hatred of Sir Lancelot, persuaded the +king to make him ready another host, with which to invade the land of +Brittany where Sir Lancelot ruled his kingdom. For a long time the king +would not listen to his advice, and the queen, with all her power, +strove against Sir Gawaine. But that knight and his large following of +knights and men-at-arms had been of great service in the recent wars +against the pagans, and the king could not wholly refuse to listen to +Sir Gawaine's demands. + +Also Sir Mordred added his words to those of his brother, and said that +men who came from Brittany said that Sir Lancelot was getting him ready +a large army, and training many men, although he was at peace with his +neighbours in Gaul. But the rumour went, as Sir Mordred reported, that +Sir Lancelot was only waiting his time, and when King Arthur should be +more than usually pressed by his pagan foes, Sir Lancelot and his great +host would sail swiftly across the sea and seize the kingdom of +Britain, when Arthur, exhausted by war, would be unable to withstand +the fresh warriors of Sir Lancelot, and would lose both his queen and +his crown. + +For a time the king would not suffer these evil rumours to be mentioned +in his presence, but many of his counsellors thought there was much +truth in them. At length, so persistent was Sir Mordred and those whom +he craftily persuaded to believe him, that for sheer weariness the king +consented to take an army across to Brittany, and to demand that Sir +Lancelot should own that the king was his overlord, and that he should +do homage to King Arthur for his kingdom. + +The host was prepared, therefore, and at a meeting of his council King +Arthur made his nephew, Sir Mordred, Regent of Britain, to rule in the +king's place while he should be abroad; and Queen Gwenevere he placed +under the governance of Sir Mordred, as well as the officers of the +court. + +When they had passed the sea and landed in the coasts of Sir Lancelot's +country, Sir Gawaine ordered his knights to go through the nearer +parts, burning the houses of the people and wasting their lands. This +he did in order to enrage Sir Lancelot against the king, so that he +would not listen quietly to any demand which the king might make of +him. + +Word was brought to Sir Lancelot of the landing of King Arthur and the +plundering and wasting of the land, but for some days he would do +naught; for he was loath to take up arms against the king he loved, who +had made him a knight. + +At length Sir Bors came to him, and with that knight were others, as +Sir Lunel of the Brake, Sir Magus of Pol, and Sir Alan of the Stones +with his six mighty brothers. + +'My lord, Sir Lancelot,' said Sir Bors, 'it is great shame that we +suffer them to ride over our lands, burning the homes of our folk and +destroying the crops in the fields.' + +Sir Alan also, who with his brothers were seven as noble knights as a +man might seek in seven lands ere he might find a brotherhood as +valiant and withal as courteous, spoke to the like purport, saying: + +'Sir Lancelot, for the love of our land, let us ride out and meet these +invaders in the field, for we have never been wont to cower in castles +nor in towns.' + +Then spoke Sir Lancelot, who was lord of them all. + +'My fair lords,' he said, 'ye wit well that I am loath to raise my hand +against my own dear lord and to shed the blood of Christian men. Yet I +understand how it chafes you to stand by and see your fair land ruined +by those that hate me. Therefore I will send a messenger to my lord +Arthur, desiring him to make treaty with me. Then when we have his +reply, we will consider the matter further.' + +A damsel was therefore sent to the camp of King Arthur, and she bore a +message from Sir Lancelot. She was brought to Sir Lucan, who was the +king's butler, and she told him whence she had come and why. + +'Alas!' said Sir Lucan, 'I fear ye have made your journey in vain, fair +damsel. My lord, King Arthur, would quickly accord with Sir Lancelot, +whom he loves, but Sir Gawaine will not suffer him.' + +Just then Sir Gawaine happened to pass by, and saw the maiden, and knew +that she was not one of their party. He turned towards her, and his +fierce eyes looked at her, grimly sour. + +'Whence come ye?' he said harshly. + +'I come hither to speak with King Arthur,' said the maiden, 'for I +bear a message from my lord, Sir Lancelot.' + +With an angry gesture Sir Gawaine seized her bridle and led her palfrey +swiftly to the edge of the camp. + +'Depart!' he cried harshly, 'and tell your master that it is idle for +him to send to mine uncle. Tell him from me, Sir Gawaine, that by the +vow of my knighthood, I will never leave this land till I or he be +slain. Now go!' + +When this message was told to Sir Lancelot, the tears stood in his eyes +and he went apart, and for that day the knights his comrades held their +counsel. But they resolved that next day they would prevail upon Sir +Lancelot to issue forth and give battle. + +But in the morning, when they looked from the walls of the castle, they +saw that Sir Gawaine had crept up in the dawn, and now was the place +besieged. Thereupon there was fierce fighting, for Sir Gawaine caused +ladders to be reared, and his knights strove to climb over the Wall, +but were mightily beaten back by Sir Lancelot's party. + +Then the attackers drew off for a space, and Sir Gawaine, well armed, +came before the chief gate, upon a stout steed. He shook his lance at +the men over the gate, and cried: + +'Where art thou, false traitor, Sir Lancelot? Why dost thou hide +thyself within holes and walls like a coward? Look out now, thou timid +soul, for when I may get at thee I will revenge upon thy evil body the +death of my brothers twain.' + +These shameful words were heard by Sir Lancelot, and all his knights +and kin that stood about him, and they said: + +'Sir Lancelot, now ye must be done with thy courtesy and go forth and +beat back those evil words upon his foul mouth.' + +'It is even so,' said Sir Lancelot; 'but sorry I am and heavy of spirit +thus to fight with him, who hath been my dear brother-in-arms so long, +and whose brothers I did unwittingly slay. And much evil shall come of +this.' + +Then he commanded his strongest horse to be saddled, and bade his +armour to be dressed upon him, and when he was fully armed he stood at +the top of the gate and cried upon the king. + +'My lord Arthur,' he said, 'you that made me knight, wit you well that +I am right heavy that ever ye do pursue me thus; but now that Sir +Gawaine hath used villainous words about me, I must needs defend +myself.' + +Sir Gawaine, seated upon his horse below, laughed grimly, and cried +upon the other. + +'O Lancelot, Lancelot,' he said, 'what a man of words thou art! If thou +darest to battle with me, cease thy babbling, man, and come off, and +let us ease our hearts with strong blows.' + +Then Sir Lancelot issued forth with many of his knights, and a covenant +was made between the hosts that there should be no fighting until Sir +Gawaine and Sir Lancelot had fought together, and one was either dead +or yielden. + +Thereupon the two knights departed some way and then came together with +all the might of their horses, and each smote the other in the midst of +the shield. So strong were the knights and stout and big the spears, +that their horses could not stand the shock, and so fell to the ground. +Then the knights quickly avoided their horses and dressed their +shields, and fought fiercely together with their swords. So valiantly +did each give and receive blows, and so heavy and grim was their +fighting, that all the knights and lords that stood thereabout +marvelled thereat and were fain to say, in as many good words, that +never had they seen such sword-play. + +In a little while, so shrewd and skilful were they, both were wounded +and the blood oozed from the joints of their armour, and it was great +marvel to see that they could still stand, dashing their shields upon +each other, and each beating upon the other with great slashes of their +swords. + +And which was the stronger of the twain none might say. + +Now Sir Gawaine had a magic power, which had been endowed upon him at +his birth by a great witch who was a friend of his mother, the +sorceress, Queen Morgan le Fay, wife of King Lot. No one knew of this +secret power except King Arthur, and often had it availed Sir Gawaine, +so that in dire perils of onfall, sudden ambush, or long battle, it had +given him the victory, when all about him had been slain or wounded or +taken captive. + +The magic was that, from the hour of nine until high noon, the strength +of his body increased until it was three times his natural strength, +which itself was full great, though in that, for deep wind and breath +and might of arm, Sir Lancelot was the stronger. + +Now while they fought together, Sir Lancelot felt that Sir Gawaine +seemed not to weaken as time went on, and he marvelled greatly. Then he +felt that indeed Sir Gawaine's strength was greater than it had been at +the beginning, and a fear came into his heart that Sir Gawaine was +possessed of a demon. + +But Sir Lancelot was stout of heart as well as old in warcraft, and +knew that if he could tire Sir Gawaine he might, by one blow, get the +better of him when he saw a good chance. Therefore Sir Lancelot began +to husband his strength, and instead of spending it in feinting and +attacking, he bore his shield ever before him, covering himself from +the fierce blows of his enemy. + +Thus he kept up his own strength; but hard put to it was he when, +towards midday, Sir Gawaine seemed to have the might of a very giant, +and the shield arm of Sir Lancelot was numbed by reason of the crashing +blows which Sir Gawaine's sword rained upon it. + +Great travail indeed had Sir Lancelot to stand up and not to yield; and +while men marvelled how he could endure, none knew all he suffered. + +Then, as the bell of the convent in the town boomed forth the hour of +noon, Sir Gawaine heaved up his sword for a final blow; but his sword +descended just as the last stroke of twelve had died away, and Sir +Lancelot marvelled to feel that what should have been so grievous a +blow that, belike, he could not have stood before it, fell upon his +shield with no more than the strength of the blow given by an ordinary +man. + +When Sir Lancelot felt the might of Sir Gawaine so suddenly give way, +he drew himself up to his full height and said: + +'Sir Gawaine, I know not by what evil power ye have fought, but now I +feel that ye have done. Now, my lord, Sir Gawaine, I must do my part, +for none may know the great and grievous strokes I have endured this +day with great pain.' + +With that Sir Lancelot redoubled his blows, and the sword of Sir +Gawaine gave before the might of Sir Lancelot, and his shield was rent. +Then Sir Lancelot gave so great a buffet on the helm of the other that +Sir Gawaine staggered, and with yet another blow Sir Lancelot hurled +him headlong to the ground. + +Men held their breath, for now, after so fierce and stubborn a +struggle, they felt sure that Sir Lancelot, hot and enraged against his +enemy, would rip off the other's helm and strike his head off +instantly. + +But, instead, Sir Lancelot stood for a moment looking at his prostrate +enemy. Then men gasped to see him thrust his sword into its scabbard +with a clang, turn on his heel and begin to walk away. + +They saw the prone knight raise his head and look as if in surprise at +the retreating figure of Sir Lancelot. + +'Why dost thou depart?' cried Sir Gawaine, rage in his mocking voice. +'Turn again, false knight, and slay me! If ye leave me thus, thou shalt +gain nothing from it, for when I am whole I will slay thee when I may.' + +Men marvelled to hear a fallen foe use such shameful and hateful words, +but they marvelled much more when Sir Lancelot, turning, cried: + +'I shall endure you, sir, if God give me grace; but wit you well. Sir +Gawaine, I will never smite you to death.' + +Many that before had hated Sir Lancelot were moved by these noble +words, and by the sight of his mercy; and they deemed that there was +hardly another man in all Christendom that would have shown such +nobility, save Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval, and they were dead. + +So Sir Lancelot went into the city, and Sir Gawaine was borne into King +Arthur's tent and his wounds were cleaned and salved. Thus he lay for +three weeks, hard of mood and bitter in his hatred, and longing eagerly +to get well, so he might try again to slay Sir Lancelot. Meanwhile he +prayed the king to attack Sir Lancelot's walls, to try to draw him +forth, or to take the city by treachery. + +But the king would do naught. He was sick for sorrow because of the war +that was between him and Sir Lancelot, and by reason of the wounds of +his nephew Sir Gawaine. + +'Alas,' was ever his reply, 'neither you nor I, my nephew, will win +worship at these walls. For we make war for no reason, with as noble a +knight as ever drew breath, and one more merciful and courteous than +any that ever graced the court of any Christian king.' + +'Nevertheless,' replied Sir Gawaine, raging at the king's love for Sir +Lancelot, 'neither his mercy nor courtesy would avail against my good +sword, once I could sink it in his treacherous heart.' + +As soon as Sir Gawaine might walk and ride, he armed him at all points +and mounted a great courser, and with a long wide spear in his hand he +went spurring to the great gate of the town. + +'Where art thou, Lancelot?' he cried in a fierce voice. 'Come thou +forth, traitor knight and recreant! I am here to revenge me on thy evil +body for thy treacherous slaughter of my twain brothers.' + +All this language Sir Lancelot heard, and leaning from the tower he +thus spake: + +'Sir Gawaine, it sorrows me that ye will not cease your foul speaking. +I know your might, and all that ye may do, and well ye wot ye may do me +great hurt or death.' + +'Come down, then,' cried Sir Gawaine, 'for what my heart craves is to +slay thee. Thou didst get the better of me the other day, and I come +this day to get my revenge. And wit thee well I will lay thee as low as +thou didst lay me.' + +'I will not keep ye waiting long,' said Sir Lancelot, 'for as ye charge +me of treachery ye shall have your hands full of me erelong, however +the battle between us may end.' + +Then happened it even as before. The knights encountered first with +spears, but Sir Gawaine's broke into a hundred pieces on the shield of +Sir Lancelot. Then, dismounting, the knights fought on foot with +swords. + +Sir Gawaine put forth all his strength, hoping, with the magic power +which he possessed, to dash Sir Lancelot to his knees. But Sir Lancelot +was more wary than before, and under cover of his shield he husbanded +his strength until the hour of noon, when, as before, he felt that Sir +Gawaine's might had strangely ebbed away. + +When that had come to pass, Sir Lancelot said: + +'Now once more have I proved that ye fight not with a man's fair +strength, Sir Gawaine, but with some evil power. And full grievously +was I put to it to withstand many of thy sad blows. Now ye have done +your great deeds, and I will do mine.' + +Then with one stroke, of so marvellous a force that men marvelled, Sir +Lancelot beat down Sir Gawaine's guard, and struck him a full heavy +blow on the side of the helm, beating it in so that the old wound burst +again. + +Sir Gawaine fell to the ground, and for some moments lay still as if he +were dead or in a swoon; but he was only dazed, and soon recovering, he +raved and foamed as he lay there, cursing Sir Lancelot for a traitorous +coward and a base knight, and even, in his madness, thrusting towards +him with his sword. + +'Wit thou well, base knight,' he cried, 'that I am not slain yet. Come +thou near and lie here with me, and we will fight this battle until we +die.' + +'I will do no more than I have done, my lord,' said Sir Lancelot, 'and +when thou art able to stand I will meet thee again. But to smite a +wounded man that may not stand, I will not.' + +Then Sir Lancelot withdrew to the town, while Sir Gawaine still raved +and abused him, and men marvelled both at the exceeding madness of the +hatred of Sir Gawaine and the great restraint and nobleness of +Lancelot. Many said that had Sir Gawaine said half as many shameful +things to one of them, they would have instantly rased his evil head +from his shoulders. + +For a month Sir Gawaine lay sick, but was always eager to be up and +able again. And at length the leech said that in three days he should +ride, whereat Sir Gawaine was joyful. + +'Again,' said he to King Arthur, who sat beside him, 'again shall I +have to do with that base fellow, and ill attend me if I do not end the +matter this time.' + +'Ye had ended it long ago, or been ended,' said the king, 'except for +the nobleness of Sir Lancelot that forbore to slay you.' + +'Ay, we all know your love of the pestilent fool, uncle,' said Sir +Gawaine, 'but we will stay here until we have made an end of him and +his kingdom, if it take us all our lives.' + +Even as he spoke there came the clear call of a trumpet outside in the +camp, and Sir Bedevere came to the door of the king's tent, his grim +old face pale, his grizzled hair unkempt, and every sign of haste and +travel upon his dress. + +The king started up. 'Sir Bedevere, ye bring evil tidings from +Britain,' he cried. 'Can it be that more ruin and wrong is to come than +that I suffer now? What is your news?' + +'O my king, it is that Mordred your nephew hath rebelled,' said Sir +Bedevere, 'and has gathered much people about him, and hath sent many +letters to all the lords and knights your vassals, promising them +wealth and lands if they make him king. And Gwenevere your queen he +hath imprisoned, saying that he will wed her when ye are slain.' + +'Mordred! Mordred!' cried the king, 'him that I thought was a quiet, +strong man--turned so base a traitor!' + +'Ay, he was ever the traitor, though brother of mine,' cried Sir +Gawaine in a voice of rage. 'A man that speaks in whispers, haunts dark +corners, and ever sneers with his lips.' + +'Hardly with my life have I escaped to tell you this,' went on Sir +Bedevere, 'for he placed men to watch me after I had scorned his evil +offers to myself. But now, my lord, quickly ye must betake yourself and +all your army from this fruitless and wrongful War against Sir +Lancelot, and hasten to beat down the poisonous viper whom ye have +nourished in your bosom.' + +Ere the day was done the army of King Arthur had raised the siege of +Sir Lancelot's town and were quickly marching to the sea, there to take +their boats across to Britain to punish the usurper and traitor, Sir +Mordred. + +A fair wind carried them across the sea, but long ere they reached the +shallows of the beach at Dover they saw the sunlight flashing from +thousands of headpieces of knights and men-at-arms, set to oppose the +landing of their rightful lord. The king was fiercely angry, and he +commanded the masters of the ships to launch their small boats, and +into these the knights swarmed and were rowed towards the shore. + +But the rebels of Mordred also launched boats and great pinnaces filled +with knights, and when the boats of the opposite parties met, then +there was fierce fighting and much slaughter of many good knights and +barons and other brave men. Then King Arthur and his chief knights drew +forth their horses from the holds of the ships, and leaped with them +into the sea, and fiercely did they throw themselves upon Sir Mordred +and his knights, and there was grievous fighting on horseback in the +shallow water, which soon was dyed with the blood of the slain. + +So stubborn were the king and his fighting men that the army of Mordred +was forced to retreat towards the land, and then, when the king and +Gawaine had trimmed their own ranks, order was given for one concerted +rush against the enemy. The other side showed little fight now, and +made no stand, but fled inland. + +When the battle was over, King Arthur let bury his people that were +dead, so far as they could be discovered in the waves; and the wounded +he caused to be carried into the town of Dover to be cared for. + +A squire came to the king as he stood giving orders as to these things. + +'My lord king,' said the squire, 'Sir Gawaine lies sore wounded in a +boat, and we know not whether he be alive or dead.' + +'Alas!' cried the king, and the knights about him were full of pity at +the sudden grief that came into his voice and his looks, 'is this true? +Then is all my joy of life at an end.' + +The squire led him to the boat in which Sir Gawaine lay, who stirred as +the king approached, and feebly smiled. + +'My uncle,' said Sir Gawaine, 'wit you well that now is my death-day +come, for I know I shall not last this bout. For I am smitten upon the +wound which Sir Lancelot gave me, and I feel that now I shall die.' + +'Alas, my sister's son,' cried the king, taking Sir Gawaine in his arms +and kissing him, while the tears flowed down his cheeks, 'this is the +wofullest day of all my life. For if ye depart, Gawaine, how solitary +am I! Gawaine! Gawaine! in Sir Lancelot and in thee had I most my love +and my joy, and now shall I lose ye both, and all my earthly joy is +gone from me.' + +'Alas,' said Sir Gawaine, 'sorrow's on me now that I have caused you +such grief, mine uncle. I see now that I have been mad with rage +against that noble knight, Sir Lancelot, who slew my dear brothers +unwittingly. And now I repent me sorely. I would that I could live to +repair the evil that I have done to you and to Sir Lancelot. But my +time is come. I shall not live till evening.' + +They wept together, and the knights that stood about them also wept for +pure grief, to think how much sorrow and ruin was caused by the mad +rage of Sir Gawaine, which had pushed the good king on to make war +against his will. + +'I am the causer of this rebellion by my traitor brother,' said Sir +Gawaine, 'and my name shall be cursed for it. Had I not wilfully driven +thee, thou wouldst have accorded with Sir Lancelot, and he and his +brave kinsmen would have held your cankered enemies in subjection, or +else cut them utterly away. Lift me up, my lord, and let me have a +scribe, for I will send a letter to Sir Lancelot ere I die.' + +Then Sir Gawaine was set up by the king, and a priest was brought, who +wrote at the dying man's dictation. And the purport of the letter was +in this wise: + +'Unto Sir Lancelot, flower of all noble knights that ever I heard of or +saw, and once my dear friend, now do I, Sir Gawaine, King Lot's son of +Orkney and the Lothians, and sister's son to King Arthur, send thee +greeting and let thee know by these writings that I am this day done to +death, having been wounded at the landing against rebellious traitors, +and struck upon the wound which thou didst give me twice, before thy +city. Whereby I have got my death. But I will have thee to wit that I +sought my death of thee, and got that wound deservedly of thee, who +could have slain me twice, but for thy high nobility and great +courtesy. I, Gawaine, beseech of thee forgiveness for my madness, and +crave that thou wilt remember the dear friendly days we have had +together in times long past, and for all the love that was between us. +Come thou over the sea, and with thy knights do thou press to the help +of Arthur, our noble lord, who is beset by a traitorous villain, my +brother Mordred, who hath dared to rebel against his rightful lord, and +hath crowned himself king. Do thou hasten, good Sir Lancelot, when thou +shalt receive this letter, and follow the king. But ere thou goest from +this seashore do thou come to my tomb, and pray some prayer more or +less for my sinful soul, that in its madness did evilly entreat thee.' + +Then was Sir Gawaine shriven, and in a little while he swooned, while +all stood uncovered round about him. When the rays of the afternoon sun +cast long shadows of the knights and fighting men who were hurrying up +and down the shore making ready to depart, Sir Gawaine awoke from his +swoon and looked up. For a moment he did not recognise King Arthur; +then he smiled at him very sweetly and said in a low voice: + +'Kiss me--and forgive me!' + +The king knelt down and kissed the pallid face of Sir Gawaine, and for +very sorrow he felt that the heart in his breast was nigh to bursting. + +So in a little while, with the beat of the surf and the cry of the +seagulls upon his ears, the light of the sun in his eyes, and the free +air of heaven all about him, Sir Gawaine died. And his death was as he +had ever craved it to be, under the open sky, after battle, where he +had given good strokes and received them. + +Now the letter which Sir Gawaine had written was given unto a young +squire of Sir Gawaine's, by name Tewder, and he was commanded to depart +forthwith back to Brittany, and deliver it into the hands of Sir +Lancelot. But, among the knights that had stood about the dying Sir +Gawaine, was a traitor, who was in the service of Sir Mordred the +rebel, and he knew that if Sir Lancelot should receive that letter, and +come to Britain with all his brave kin and their host, Sir Mordred +would have much ado to conquer King Arthur. + +Therefore the traitor knight, whose name was Sir Fergus, did accost +Tewder the squire, and with fair seeming told him that he also was +bidden to go back to Brittany, to bring back certain jewels which the +king in his hasty departure had left in his lodging at the town of Dol. + +Tewder, unsuspecting of all evil, went aboard a boat with Sir Fergus, +and together they bargained with the master to take them across when +the tide should rise again at dark. Together they crossed the sea that +night and took the road towards Sir Lancelot's town; and in a dark wood +Sir Fergus set upon the squire, who fought bravely, but was slain at +last, and the letter of Sir Gawaine was taken by the traitor. + +Then, returning to the seashore, the wretch went aboard another boat, +and chaffered with the merchant to take him across the sea to the town +of Llongporth, whence he thought to get quickly to Mordred, to receive +from him the reward of his treachery and murder. But at night, as they +sailed over the dark sea, a fifty-oared longship, filled with Saxon +pirates, crept upon them; the pagans poured over the sides, slew men +almost in their sleep, and flung their bodies overboard. And though +Fergus fought well, his head was almost struck from his body by a great +sheering axe-blow. When the pirates had taken all the goods they +desired from the merchant vessel, they stove a hole in its side, and it +sank to the bottom of the sea. So that no man ever again saw the letter +which was meant for Sir Lancelot. + +For some weeks Sir Lancelot lay quiet, knowing naught of the death of +Sir Gawaine or of the letter desiring him to go to the help of King +Arthur. Many rumours came to him, through the ship-folk, of the wicked +rebellion of Sir Mordred, and though Sir Lancelot longed to go across +to Britain and fight for King Arthur, his kinsmen would not consent, +but said it would be unseemly, unless the king craved his aid, and sued +for pardon for making war against Sir Lancelot in his own country. + +Thus the precious weeks went by, and much ill fortune happened in +Britain, that had ended otherwise if Sir Lancelot had been by the king. + +Three days after the battle upon the shore, the king's host came up +with the host of Sir Mordred on Barham down. Many folks had joined the +rebels' side, because they hated the king for making war upon Sir +Lancelot, and the king was sorely hurt in his mind to see a banner +borne by one part of the usurper's army, on which was the device of Sir +Lancelot's. + +This the crafty Sir Mordred had commanded to be done, knowing that it +would damp the spirits of King Arthur and his men. + +'Verily,' said King Arthur, 'my evil deeds have sprung up as armed men +against me. I fought unjustly with Sir Lancelot, and here are some that +loved him arrayed against me for that wicked war.' + +'If ye would send for Sir Lancelot,' said Sir Owen of the Fountain, who +stood by him, 'ye would learn, I verily believe, that Sir Lancelot +loves and worships you as of old, and hath no mind to fight on the side +of this sly fox, Mordred. Send for Sir Lancelot, lord.' + +'Nay, I will not--I may not,' said the king. 'If he cometh by the words +which Sir Gawaine wrote to him, I shall know that he loves me and +forgives me; but if he cometh not, I shall know he hates me, and I +shall merit his ill-favour. He owes naught to me since I used him so +evilly, and therefore I may not ask his aid.' + +All day the battle raged upon the great green down, and many were the +fierce fights which took place upon the top thereof, where, behind +great earthworks freshly timbered, the main host of Sir Mordred stood, +the banner of the great red dragon in their midst. + +But at the last, so fast and fierce did the blows of King Arthur's men +fall, and so stubbornly did they press on, that Sir Mordred's host gave +way. Pouring forth by the upper gate, they ran pell-mell northwards, +and the knights and fighting men of Arthur kept up with them for many +miles, and there was a running fight and much wounding and slaying all +through the fresh green countryside, where the hedges were laden with +May-blossoms, and in the sky the larks were trilling. + +And that day many a wounded man crawled groaning into the thickets to +die, many a chalky cart-rut ran red with blood, and many a white face, +with wide-open, sightless eyes, stared up at the blue sky, where the +fleecy clouds sailed in the gentle wind. + +For three weeks after this battle both sides rested, and like great +wrestlers gathered all their strength for one great struggle. Knights +and riders were sent by both sides into all parts, with letters to +lords and knights, charging them to take their sides in the war. Many +people from about London came to the banner of Mordred, and the parts +now called Kent, Sussex and Surrey, Essex and Suffolk held wholly with +him; but those in the west, as Wales, Devon, Cornwall and the middle +parts, thronged to the banner of the king. + +Few came from the north, for there the pagan pirates stalked with fire +and sword through and through the land, and the British lords and +chiefs that were alive had little power to stay them now. King Uriens +was dead, slain by the dagger of a traitor, and so were two other great +chieftains; so that men south of Trent sorrowfully shook their heads +and said that now the north was no longer the land of the British folk, +but was given over to the savage heathen hordes. + +Then, to meet the many that flocked together in his favour, King Arthur +drew him with his host westward beyond Sarum. There on the wide downs +beside the great standing-stones of the Old Princes, which men now call +Stonehenge, a great multitude of chiefs and knights and yeomen came to +his banner. + +But Sir Mordred avoided a battle, and, instead, kept aloof with his +army, and began to burn and harry the country which was on the side of +Arthur. He took Calleva and Cunetio, and put the people to the sword, +and took much gear from those wealthy cities; then he stole through the +great forest by night and came to Palladun, which was a rich town +builded upon the top of a great hill. He thought to take this unawares, +but it was well watched and well armed, and he strove to break into it +and was kept about it for some days. + +That delay was used well by King Arthur, for he made great haste to +pass through the wild country, filled with wide marshes and thick woods +as it was, which separated him from his enemy. Then Mordred, hearing +through the spies of the king's approach, got his host away and thought +to pass into the lands of Devon, which were those of King Dewer, son of +the dead Geraint, and held firmly for Arthur. + +But in the wild waste-land beside the Endless Waters, King Arthur +caught up with him, and barred his further way. And the king remembered +that this was that same land, full of gaunt standing-stones and haunted +by trolls and witches, where Merlin had once led him, and where he had +gained the sword Excalibur. + +It was late in the day when the two armies faced each other, and both +prepared to pass the night upon the field. Bitter was the wind that +evening, and the skies were dun and leaden of hue, as if spring had +been overcome by winter; and to shelter the king a tent had been put up +in a little dark wood of stunted firs, called the Wood of Drood. Just +in the deep dark before the dawn, when the blood in men's veins was +coldest, and the life in their hearts was weakest, a dreadful cry +wailed out through the dark wood, and there came the sound as of +leathery wings flapping heavily to and fro above where the king lay +sleeping. Men started up about their ashen fires, their faces blanching +at the terror that cried in the dark, and they heard the wailing twice +repeated, while none dared try to see the thing that wailed. + +Then, while their blood chilled and their breath stayed, they heard the +heavy flapping pass over their heads and die away towards the camp of +Mordred; and there in the distance did the three cries sound again. + +Men's hearts sickened as they turned and crept the nearer to each +other, but few dared to utter the words upon their lips. + +Two knights slept in the tent with king, Sir Kay and Sir Owen; and they +lay in the dark, trembling at the cries of terrible import. When they +passed, the knights would not move, fearing to be the first to speak. + +'My Lords,' came the quiet voice of King Arthur out of the dark, 'that +was the voice of the Hag of Warning. Men say it hath foretold the +deaths of many of my house, but I know not. Yet will I take the issue +as God shall give it me, trusting in His mercy and the blood of His Son +Jesus, and Him crucified.' + +'Amen,' said the two knights, and said no more. + +When, in a little while, the sun rose, flashing his warm rays into the +fearful eyes that greeted him, men's terror quickly vanished; and when +fires were lit and oaten cakes were browning on the irons, or collops +sputtered on their skewers, tongues were loosened and faces began to +smile. But few spoke of the cries which they had heard, for all loved +their king, and hoped that somehow they had dreamed an evil dream, or +had but heard the cries of some foul night-bird. + +Breakfast being ended, the captains and knights began to trim their men +in army array, and talk was eager of the coming battle. Then were seen, +coming from Sir Mordred's camp, two bishops; and these were taken at +their desire to Arthur, where he stood surrounded by his knights and +chieftains. + +'Lord,' said one of the bishops, he that was head of the great choir or +monastery of Amesbury, 'cannot we make accord between you and your +nephew? Sad it is to see so many great and valiant warriors ranged +against each other. Many are sisters' sons, and all are of one speech, +one kindred. If this unnatural war doth continue, how much sorrow there +will be, how many noble hearts be stilled in death or broken in grief +for him that shall never return! How many puissant bodies, now quick +and passionate and handsome, will be meat for snarling wolves and +carrion for foul birds!' + +'What says my rebellious nephew?' asked the king sternly. + +'My lord,' said the other bishop, a man of soft and silky speech, and +he was chief of the choir of Clovesho, 'he asks but little, and if ye +are willing to make treaty, he also is willing. Grant him but the +earldom of Kent and the Andred, with a seat at London, during your +days, and do thou appoint him king after your days. For now that Sir +Gawaine, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth are slain, he is the only sister's +son you have. If ye grant these things he will be your liege, faithful +in all things, and a strong arm against your enemies.' + +Then some of King Arthur's knights would have him agree to these terms, +but others would not, and said the king should make no treaty with a +traitor, but that Mordred should come and throw himself upon the mercy +of his king and uncle. + +At the last, after much counsel had been taken, King Arthur agreed to +meet Mordred, with fourteen of his chief men, in the space betwixt +their hosts, and the king should also take fourteen knights with him. +So the bishops went back with this message, and King Arthur called the +chieftains of his host about him. + +'I go to see this traitor, my nephew,' he said to them, 'whether he +means falsely or truly with this talk of a treaty. But look ye, I in no +wise trust him. Hold ye your men warily, and if ye see any sword drawn +among us where we stand, do thou sound the horns of attack and come on +fiercely, and slay that rebel and all that hold with him.' + +In like wise did Mordred warn his men, 'for,' said he, knowing how +greatly he had sinned against his generous and noble uncle, 'I know +well that King Arthur and his knights would be avenged on me if they +could.' + +The party from each army went forward over the stony hillside, until +they met midway between the armies, and men watched them keenly. King +Arthur spoke chidingly to his nephew Mordred, who, sour and dark of +face, looked craftily at the faces of his uncle and his knights. And +the chiefs with Mordred, men for the most part of violent and ambitious +natures, looked haughtily at King Arthur's party. Nevertheless, there +was no bad blood shown, and the talk was continued, and Mordred +repeated the demands which the bishops had made. + +'But I care not to give to thee Kent and London,' said the king. 'I +tell thee frankly, Mordred, I would not trust thee there. I fear me +thou wouldst try some crafty plot with the Saxon pagans if I gave them +thee, as that rebel Caros did, who for a time made himself emperor of +the Romans here in this land.' + +'Ha' done, then, my father,' said Gorfalk, the son of Mordred, an +insolent young man. 'Let us cease this. I doubt not we be big enough to +get all the kingdom if we fight.' + +The king looked sternly at the young man, and there was silence among +them all as men waited for Arthur's reply. + +Then it happened that a young chieftain, standing near the king, felt +something bite his foot where the low leathern shoe left it naked. He +looked down and saw that he was treading on a viper, which had struck +him and was about to strike again. With a cry the knight stepped aside, +drew his sword, and cut the reptile in two. + +As the blade flashed, silvery bright in the sunlight, a great hoarse +cry rose like thunder from the two masses of men watching them on +either side; trumpets blared and horns squealed, and shouts of command +rose sharp and keen. + +Instantly the men standing with Arthur and Mordred looked about them, +saw where the young chieftain stood with drawn sword, and knew that now +nothing could avert the battle. + +'The gods will have it so!' sneered Mordred. + +Already the earth trembled and shook with the beat of ten thousand feet +of the armies rushing together. A knight of Mordred's, drawing his +sword, thrust it into the breast of one of Arthur's chieftains, with +the cry: + +'This for thy land, Sir Digon, that marches with mine!' + +Instantly others fell to fighting hand-to-hand, striking on targe and +helm; but Sir Owen, Sir Kay and Sir Bedevere surrounded the king, and +all hurried back to the army approaching them. So likewise did Sir +Mordred. + +Then came the crash of battle, as line on line, with flashing swords +held high, the ranks of war closed. Blades rose again, stained red, +fierce strangled cries came from men in the death-grips, helms were +cracked, shields riven, dirks sank home, and men who once had drunk and +jested with laughing looks over the same mead-board, now met fierce eye +to eye, and never parted until one or both fell in the swaths of the +death-harvest. + +All day the stubborn battle raged, and ever the king sought out the +rebel Mordred, but never reached him. Many valiant deeds he did, +wielding his sword Excalibur; and by his side were Owen and Kay, Lucan +and Bedevere. So spent were they at the last that hardly could they +lift their swords, and so sick of the slaying were they that gladly +would they have ceased. But ever some vicious band of Mordred's knights +would come upon them, and then they quitted them like men, and ceased +not till their enemies had fled or were slain. + +Suddenly the king came to himself, and, standing still, looked upon the +field. In the morning it had been but a bare hillside of hungry, +stunted grass, through which the stones showed grey and sallow, like +ancient bones. Now, in the low light of the sinking orb, it was +red--red, with the pallid faces of the dead stained a lighter red in +the rays of the sun. Here and there bands still fought together, cries +of fury rose, and the groans of the dying mingled with them. + +'Alas!' cried the king, and looked behind him, 'where are all my noble +knights?' + +There were but two with him now, Lucan and his brother Bedevere. + +'Where is Owen, and Kay?' he asked. + +'Alas, lord,' said Bedevere, 'Sir Owen got his death-wound by the thorn +where we fought those five knights but now, and Sir Kay suddenly fell +as he walked. And when I knelt to speak to him, I found him dead.' + +'Alas,' said the king, 'that ever I should see this doleful day, for +now is my end come. But would to Heaven that I wist where is that +traitor Mordred, that hath caused all this sorrow and ruin.' + +Then, as he spoke, he looked towards the east, and saw where, by a tall +standing-stone, a man leaned as if spent with a wound. And he was aware +that this was Mordred. + +'Now give me my spear,' said the king to Sir Lucan, 'for yonder is the +traitor, and he shall not escape me.' + +'Lord,' said Sir Lucan in a weak voice, 'let him bide, for he hath none +with him, while we three are still alive.' + +'Now, betide me death, betide me life,' said the king, 'now that I see +him yonder I will slay the serpent, lest he live to work more havoc on +this my poor kingdom.' + +'God speed you well,' said Sir Bedevere, and gave the king his spear. + +Then the king ran towards Sir Mordred, crying: + +'Traitor, prepare, now is thy death-day come!' + +When Sir Mordred heard King Arthur he raised his head, then came +towards the king with his sword in his hand. + +And there, in the shadow of the great stone, King Arthur smote Sir +Mordred under the shield, with so keen a stroke of his spear that it +went through the body and out beyond. Sir Mordred, feeling that death +was upon him, thrust himself along the spear almost to the butt +thereof, nigh where King Arthur held it, and grasping his sword in both +his hands, he struck his uncle on the side of the head, with so keen +and fierce a blow that the sword pierced the helm and the skull. + +With that stroke Sir Mordred fell stark dead to the earth, and the king +sank in a swoon upon his body. + +Then Sir Bedevere and Sir Lucan, who were both sore wounded and weakly, +came up, and between them, with many rests upon the way, took the king +to a little combe beside the waters, and there they took off his helm +and bathed his wound and bound it. After which the king felt easier. + +'We may do naught else with thee here, lord,' said Sir Lucan, 'and it +were best that we got thee to some town.' + +'It would be better so,' said the king, 'but I fear me I have my +death-wound.' + +When they had rested Sir Lucan tried to rise, so as to take up the +king. + +'I may not rise,' he cried, his hands upon his head, 'my brain works +so.' + +Nevertheless, the knight staggered to his feet and lifted up the feet +of the king. But the effort was too much for him, and with a deathly +groan he fell to the ground, and when he had twitched and struggled a +little he lay dead. + +'Alas,' said the king, 'this is to me a full heavy sight, to see this +noble knight so die for my sake. He would not complain, so set was he +to help me, and now his heart has broken.' + +Then Sir Bedevere went to his brother and kissed him, and closed his +eyes. + +'Now,' said the king, 'come hither to me, Bedevere, for my time goeth +fast and I remember me of a promise. Therefore,' he bade Sir Bedevere, +'do thou take Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it beyond the combe +side there where a low thorn grows, and when thou comest there, I +charge thee, throw my sword in that water, and come again and tell me +what thou seest.' + +So Sir Bedevere departed with the sword, and on the way he looked at +the sword, and saw how noble was the blade and how shining, and how the +pommel and haft were full of precious stones. + +'If I throw this sword into the water,' said Sir Bedevere to himself, +'how great a sin 'twould be to waste so noble a weapon.' + +Therefore he hid it in the branches of the thorn and returned to the +king. + +'What sawest thou?' asked the king when Bedevere returned. + +'Sir,' he said, 'I saw the wind beat on the waves.' + +'Ye have not done as I bid thee,' said the king. 'Now, therefore, do +thou go again and do as I bid thee; and as thou art dear to me, spare +it not, but throw it in.' + +Then Sir Bedevere went back and took the sword in his hand; but again +he could not bring himself to throw away that noble sword, so again he +hid the sword and went back to the king. + +'What sawest thou this time?' said the king. + +'Lord,' said Bedevere, 'I saw the waters ebb and flow and the sedges +trembling.' + +'Ah, traitor untrue!' said the king, deep sorrow in his voice, 'who +would have weened that thou who hast been so true and dear to me, and +who hast been named a noble knight, would betray me for the jewels on a +sword? Now go ye again, I charge thee, and as thou shalt answer for thy +sins at the last day, throw ye the sword far into the waters.' + +Then in heavy mood Sir Bedevere went the third time, and took the sword +from its hiding-place, and looking away from the weapon lest its beauty +should soften him, he bound the girdle about the hilt, and then he +threw the sword with all his might far out over the water. + +As he looked, inwardly lamenting, he saw the jewels flash in the low +light as the sword passed through the air. Then suddenly, when it +neared the water, he marvelled to see a great arm and hand come up +through the waves. The hand caught the weapon by the haft, shook it and +brandished it thrice, and then vanished with the sword under the waves. + +With some fear in his heart Sir Bedevere went back to the king and told +him all that he had seen. + +'It is well,' said the king. 'Now have I performed my promise. Help me +hence to some village, for I am cold and would die beneath a roof, if I +may.' + +Then Sir Bedevere took the king upon his back, thinking that he would +find some road in a little while which should lead them to a hamlet. +And as he went along, he passed by the waterside, near the low thorn +whence he had thrown the sword into the water. + +There, in the sedges, he marvelled to see a barge draped all in black +cloth, and in it sat many fair ladies, all with black hoods on. When +they saw Sir Bedevere with the king upon his back, they shrieked and +wept. + +And one that looked a queen, so fair and stately, yet so sad was she, +held out her arms towards the king, and cried unto him in a voice +wondrous sweet, 'Come to me, brother!' + +'Put me into the barge,' said the king to Bedevere, 'for there I shall +have rest.' + +Softly did Sir Bedevere lay him in the barge, and the fair ladies wept +over the king with much mourning, and one laid his head in her lap and +caressed it with soft hands. + +Then, without sails or oars, the barge went from the shore, and fear +and sorrow shook the soul of Sir Bedevere to see them go from him. + +'Alas, my lord Arthur,' he cried, 'what shall become of me if ye are +leaving me lonely?' + +'Comfort thyself,' said the king in a faint voice, 'and do as well as +thou mayest, for in me ye may no longer trust. For I will go into the +vale of Avalon to heal me of my grievous wound, and if thou hear never +more of me, pray for my soul.' + +Sir Bedevere stood watching till the barge went from his sight in the +mists of evening, and then he wept a little, and so fared forward +through the night, weeping as he thought how all the glory that was +Arthur's was now past, and how he himself was very old and very lonely. + +When morning broke he was aware of a little chapel and a hermitage +between two hoar woods upon a knoll beside the marshes, and entering +therein he got cheer of the holy hermit and rested. + + * * * * * + +Now, when King Arthur had gone westwards to collect his host, Sir Owen, +marvelling that Sir Lancelot had sent no word in reply to the letter of +Sir Gawaine, had charged a trusty squire of his to go across to +Brittany, to tell Sir Lancelot of all that had passed and how King +Arthur longed for his aid and his love. Nigh mad with grief was Sir +Lancelot when he had learned all, and so deep was his sorrow and so +wild was his regret, that hardly could he wait till the ships were +ready to take him and his knights and army across to Britain. + +When they arrived at Dover, Sir Lancelot sought out the tomb of Sir +Gawaine, and there with much weeping he prayed long and earnestly for +the repose of the soul of that dead warrior, his once dear friend. All +the other knights prayed likewise for the soul of Gawaine, and Sir +Lancelot gave one hundred pounds for masses to be said, and the others +gave according to their means. + +Then word was brought him of the daylong dreadful battle in the west, +and how King Arthur was gone, mortally wounded, none knew whither, and +how all the knights of the Round Table were dead. + +Silent was Sir Lancelot at this news, but men saw how his stern face +paled; and for a time he walked apart and would suffer none to speak to +him. Then he came to his knights, and all could see how his looks had +changed. Grief was deeply lined upon his face, and he had the air of an +aged and weary man. + +'My fair lords,' he said, 'I thank you all for your coming with me, but +we came too late. But now I go alone to find the body of my dear lord, +and if I may, I will see my lady, Queen Gwenevere. And do ye all go +back into your country, for now we have no place in this.' + +Thus Sir Lancelot fared forth, and would suffer none to go with him. +First he went to Amesbury, and in the convent there he saw Queen +Gwenevere. Few but very sad were the words they spake. Sir Lancelot +offered to give her a home in Brittany, away from the trouble and the +ruin of the land, but she would not. + +'My lord is dead,' she said, weeping, 'and this dear kingdom may not +long stand, but while I live I will stay on its dear soil.' + +Then Sir Lancelot fared far west through the wastelands, and came to +the battlefield; and there he wept sorely to see the long lines of +dead. Many were the dead knights of the Round Table whom he found +unburied, and these with his own hands he laid in the grave, and he +procured a priest to say prayers over them. + +Further he went beside the shores of the Endless Waters, until one day +he found a black barge, and stepping therein he was taken without sail +or oars far over the wide sea, until the twilight. Then, raising his +sorrowing eyes, he was aware of a fair green island with a valley +between two sweet hills, and there was a chapel, and all about it were +trees all laden with blossoms. + +A little bell began to ring just as the barge lightly touched the +shore, and stepping therefrom, Sir Lancelot went into the chapel, and +heard mass. Afterwards a bishop came unto him where he kneeled, and a +hermit, and the latter seized his hand; and when he looked up Sir +Lancelot knew it for Sir Bedevere. Neither could speak for the great +tears that rolled down their grim faces, but Sir Bedevere drew him +forth and led him to where a great white marble slab was lying, freshly +cut, in the midmost part of the chapel. + +Thereon Sir Lancelot saw the words, cut deep and wide, in black +letters: + + HIC JACET + + ARTHURUS REX + + QUONDAM REX QUE FUTURUS + +Then did Sir Lancelot's heart almost burst with sorrow; and when he had +finished praying and weeping, he kneeled unto the bishop and prayed him +to shrive him and assoil him. Afterwards he besought him that he might +live with him, and the holy man granted his request, and there ever +after did Sir Lancelot, putting off all the fame and glory which he had +gotten in the world, pass all his days and nights, serving God with +prayers and fastings and much abstinence. + +When, within a year, Queen Gwenevere died in her cell at Amesbury, Sir +Lancelot, having been advised in a dream of her death, braved the bands +of lawless men that now ravaged the fair land of Britain, and brought +her body to the isle of Glastonbury. He laid it solemnly beside the +body of her dear lord Arthur, and thereafter he endured greater +penance. + +'For,' said he, 'by my stiffnecked pride did all this evil come. If I +had gone straightway to my dear lord, and cast myself upon his love and +justice, my lady the queen would not have been led to the stake, and I +should not unwittingly have slain young Gareth. I am the causer of all +the ruin and the sorrow that hath come upon this land, and never while +I live may I forgive me.' + +Thus evermore he prayed and mourned, day and night, but sometimes he +slumbered a broken sleep. He ate but little, and neither the bishop nor +Sir Bedevere could make him take comfort. And if you would know the +time and place where Lancelot was happiest, it was when he was lying on +the tomb of King Arthur and Queen Gwenevere. + +At last, on a sweet morn in June, they found him lying there, stark +dead, but with a gentle smile upon his wasted face. And when they had +made the mass of requiem, they laid him in the tomb at the feet of the +king and the queen, and on the slab that covered him they caused these +words to be graven: + + HERE LIETH + SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE + WHO WAS CHIEF OF ALL CHRISTIAN KNIGHTS; + THE MOST COURTEOUS MAN AND THE TRUEST + FRIEND, THE MEEKEST DOER OF GREAT DEEDS, + AND THE GENTLEST TO ALL LADIES AND + WEAK CREATURES. + R. I. 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