_Longmans’ Class-Books of English Literature_
TALES OF KING ARTHUR
AND
THE ROUND TABLE
ADAPTED FROM
THE BOOK OF ROMANCE
BY
ANDREW LANG
WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, ETC., BY
J. C. ALLEN
AND
TWENTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY
H. J. FORD
NEW IMPRESSION
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
FOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORK
BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS
1918
_All rights reserved_
INTRODUCTION
The tales of King Arthur and his Knights are of Celtic origin. The Celts
were the people who occupied Britain at the time when the history of the
country opens, and a few words are necessary to explain why the
characters in the stories act and speak as though they belonged to a
later age.
It is believed that King Arthur lived in the sixth century, just after
the Romans withdrew from Britain, and when the Britons, left to defend
themselves against the attacks of the marauding Saxons, rose and
defeated them at Mount Badon, securing to themselves peace for many
years. It was probably about this time that King Arthur and his company
of Knights performed the deeds which were to become the themes of
stories and lays for generations afterwards.
In olden times, it was the custom of minstrels and story-tellers to
travel through the land from court to court, telling of tales of
chivalry and heroism, and for many centuries the tales of King Arthur
formed the stock from which the story-teller drew.
In this way the stories came to be handed down from father to son, in
Brittany (whose people are of the same family as the Welsh) as well as
in Wales and England, and by this means alone were they prevented from
being lost. But in the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I., they were set
down on paper, and so became literature. Before this, however, a British
writer had written out some of the tales, and from him as well as from
the lips of the bards and story-tellers of their own generation, the
writers in the time of Henry II. were able to collect their information.
Now, it will be remembered that the second and third crusades were being
carried on during the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I., and many
English and French Knights were therefore fighting in the fields of
Palestine.
The story-teller, whose living depended on the welcome his stories met
with, instead of telling them according to tradition, altered them to
suit the tastes of his hearers. Thus, the old heroes of tradition were
placed upon prancing horses, clothed in coats of mail, and armed with
lances as if they had been vassals of King Henry or King Richard. And in
this way the story-teller called up before the minds of the listeners
pictures of deeds of chivalry, such as husbands and brothers were
performing for the Christian faith in far-off Palestine. The writers of
the time, both English and French, set them down as they heard and knew
them, and so in their altered and historically inaccurate form they have
reached us at the present day.
One of the most famous of the books compiled by old English writers was
the “Historia Britonum,” which was written (in Latin) by Geoffrey,
Bishop of Asaph. It contained an account of a war which King Arthur
waged in Western Europe, but made no mention of the Holy Grail.
From this and other books of romances compiled in England, and very
largely, too, from books of French romances, Sir Thomas Malory obtained
the material for his “Morte d’Arthur,” which was written in 1470. This
is the most famous of the early books of Arthurian legend, and it is
from the “Morte d’Arthur” that most of the stories in this book are
taken. Some, however, are taken from the “High History of the Holy
Graal,” translated from the French by Dr. Sebastian Evans. The language
throughout has been modified with a view to making the legends more easy
of study.
CONTENTS
PART I.
PAGE
Introduction v, vi
The Drawing of the Sword 1
The Sword Excalibur 6
How the Round Table began 7
The Story of Sir Balin 11
What Beaumains asked of the King 18
How Morgan Le Fay tried to kill King Arthur 42
The Passing of Merlin 45
PART II.
The Quest of the Holy Graal (Parts I. to XI.) 48
PART III.
The Fight for the Queen 78
The Fair Maid of Astolat 88
PART IV.
Lancelot and Guenevere 107
The End of it All 136
ILLUSTRATIONS
FULL-PAGE PLATES.
PAGE
How Arthur drew the Sword 4
The Death of Balin and Balan 17
Gareth and Linet 24
Linet and the Black Knight 27
The Lady of Lyonesse sees Sir Gareth 34
Morgan Le Fay casts away the Scabbard 44
Merlin and Vivien 47
Sir Galahad opens the Tomb 56
Sir Percivale slays the Serpent 63
Arthur and Guenevere kiss before all the People 86
Elaine ties her Sleeve round Sir Lancelot’s Helmet 92
The Black Barget 104
The Archers threaten Lancelot 113
Sir Mordred 141
Excalibur returns to the Mere 144
IN TEXT.
The Damsel warns Sir Balin 14
How Sir Bors was saved from killing his Brother 68
Sir Mador accuses Guenevere 81
Guenevere sends her Page to Lancelot for help 111
Lancelot comes out of Guenevere’s Room 123
TALES OF KING ARTHUR
AND
THE ROUND TABLE
PART I.
THE DRAWING OF THE SWORD.
Long, long ago, after Uther Pendragon died, no king reigned in Britain,
and every Knight hoped to seize the crown for himself. The country was
like to fare ill when laws were broken on every side, and the corn which
was to give bread to the poor was trodden underfoot, and there was none
to bring the evildoer to justice. Then, when things were at their worst,
came forth Merlin the magician, and fast he rode to the place where the
Archbishop of Canterbury had his dwelling. They took counsel together,
and agreed that all the lords and gentlemen of Britain should ride to
London and meet on Christmas Day, now at hand, in the Great Church. So
this was done. And on Christmas morning, as they left the church, they
saw in the churchyard a large stone, and on it a bar of steel, and in
the steel a naked sword was held, and about it was written in letters of
gold, “Whoso pulleth out this sword is by right of birth King of
England.” They marvelled at these words, and called for the Archbishop,
and brought him into the place where the stone stood. Then those Knights
who fain would be King took firm hold of the hilt, and they tugged at
the sword with all their might; but it never stirred. The Archbishop
watched them in silence, but when they were faint from pulling he spoke:
“The man is not here who shall lift out that sword, nor do I know where
to find him. But this is my counsel—that two Knights be chosen, good and
true men, to keep guard over the sword.”
Thus it was done. But the lords and gentlemen-at-arms cried out that
every man had a right to try to win the sword, and they decided that on
New Year’s Day a tournament should be held, and any Knight who would,
might enter the lists.
So on New Year’s Day, the Knights, according to custom, went to hear
service in the Great Church, and after it was over they met in the field
to make ready for the tourney. Among them was a brave Knight called Sir
Ector, who brought with him Sir Kay, his son, and Arthur, Kay’s
foster-brother. Now Kay had unbuckled his sword the evening before, and
in his haste to be at the tourney had forgotten to put it on again, and
he begged Arthur to ride back and fetch it for him. But when Arthur
reached the house the door was locked, for the women had gone out to see
the tourney, and, though Arthur tried his best to get in, he could not.
Then he rode away in great anger, and said to himself, “Kay shall not be
without a sword this day. I will take that sword in the churchyard, and
give it to him;” and he galloped fast till he reached the gate of the
churchyard. He jumped down, tied his horse tightly to a tree, and,
running up to the sword, seized the handle, and lightly and fiercely
drew it out; then he mounted his horse again, and delivered the sword to
Sir Kay. The moment Sir Kay saw the sword he knew it was not his own,
but the sword of the stone, and he sought out his father Sir Ector, and
said to him, “Sir, this is the sword of the stone, therefore I am the
rightful King.” Sir Ector made no answer, but signed to Kay and Arthur
to follow him, and they all three went back to the church. Leaving their
horses outside, they entered the choir, and here Sir Ector took a holy
book and bade Sir Kay swear how he came by that sword. “My brother
Arthur gave it to me,” replied Sir Kay. “How did you come by it?” asked
Sir Ector, turning to Arthur. “Sir,” said Arthur, “when I rode home for
my brother’s sword, I found no one to deliver it to me, and as I
resolved he should not be swordless, I thought of the sword in this
stone, and I pulled it out.” “Were any Knights present when you did
this?” asked Sir Ector. “No, none,” said Arthur. “Then you are the
rightful King of this land,” said Sir Ector. “But why am I the King?”
inquired Arthur. “Because,” answered Sir Ector, “this is an enchanted
sword, and no man could draw it but he who was born a King. Therefore
put the sword back into the stone, and let me see you take it out.”
“That is soon done,” said Arthur, replacing the sword, and Sir Ector
himself tried to draw it, but he could not. “Now it is your turn,” he
said to Sir Kay, but Sir Kay fared no better than his father, though he
tugged with all his might and main. “Now you, Arthur,” and Arthur pulled
it out as easily as if it had been lying in its sheath, and as he did so
Sir Ector and Sir Kay sank on their knees before him. “Why do you, my
father and brother, kneel to me?” asked Arthur in surprise. “Nay, nay,
my lord,” answered Sir Ector, “I am not your father, though till to-day
I could not tell you who your father really was. You are the son of
Uther Pendragon, and you were brought to me when you were born by Merlin
himself, who promised that when the time came you should know from whom
you sprang.” When Arthur heard that Sir Ector was not his father, he
wept bitterly. “If I am King,” he said at last, “ask what you will, and
I shall not fail you. For to you, and to my lady and mother, I owe more
than to any one in the world, for she loved me and treated me as her
son.” “Sir,” replied Sir Ector, “I only ask that you will make your
foster-brother, Sir Kay, Seneschal of all your lands.” “That I will
readily,” answered Arthur, “and while he and I live no other shall fill
that office.”
[Illustration: HOW ARTHVR DREW THE SWORD]
Sir Ector then bade them seek out the Archbishop with him, and they told
him all that had happened concerning the sword, which Arthur had left
standing in the stone. And on Twelfth Day the Knights and Barons came
again, but none could draw it out but Arthur. When they saw this, many
of the Barons became angry and cried out that they would never own a boy
for King whose blood was no better than their own. So it was agreed to
wait till Candlemas, when more Knights might be there, and meanwhile the
same two men who had been chosen before watched the sword night and day;
but at Candlemas it was the same thing, and at Easter. And when
Pentecost came, the common people who were present, and saw Arthur pull
out the sword, cried with one voice that he was their King, and they
would kill any man who said differently.
Then rich and poor fell on their knees before him, and Arthur took the
sword and offered it upon the altar where the Archbishop stood, and the
best man who was there made him Knight. After that the crown was put on
his head, and he swore to his lords and commons that he would be a true
King, and would do them justice all the days of his life.
THE SWORD EXCALIBUR.
King Arthur, accompanied by Merlin the magician, had left the comfort of
the court to seek adventures. He had fought a hard battle with the
tallest Knight in all the land, and though he struck hard and well, he
would have been slain had not Merlin enchanted the Knight and cast him
into a deep sleep, and brought the King to a hermit who had studied the
art of healing, and cured all his wounds in three days. Then Arthur and
Merlin waited no longer, but gave the hermit thanks and departed.
As they rode together Arthur said, “I have no sword,” but Merlin bade
him be patient and he would soon give him one. In a little while they
came to a large lake, and in the midst of the lake Arthur beheld an arm
rising out of the water, holding up a sword. “Look!” said Merlin, “that
is the sword I spoke of.” And the King looked again, and a maiden stood
upon the water. “That is the Lady of the Lake,” said Merlin, “and she is
coming to you, and if you ask her courteously she will give you the
sword.” So when the maiden drew near, Arthur saluted her and said,
“Maiden, I pray you tell me whose sword is that which an arm is holding
out of the water? I wish it were mine, for I have lost my sword.”
“That sword is mine, King Arthur,” answered she, “and I will give it to
you, if you in return will give me a gift when I ask you.”
“By my faith,” said the King, “I will give you whatever gift you ask.”
“Well,” said the maiden, “get into the barge yonder, and row yourself to
the sword, and take it and the scabbard with you.” For this was the
sword Excalibur. “As for _my_ gift, I will ask it in my own time.” Then
King Arthur and Merlin dismounted from their horses and tied them up
safely, and went into the barge, and when they came to the place where
the arm was holding the sword Arthur took it by the handle, and the arm
disappeared. And they brought the sword back to land. As they rode the
King looked lovingly on his sword, which Merlin saw, and, smiling, said,
“Which do you like best, the sword or the scabbard?” “I like the sword,”
answered Arthur. “You are not wise to say that,” replied Merlin, “for
the scabbard is worth ten of the sword, and as long as it is buckled on
you you will lose no blood, however sorely you may be wounded.” So they
rode into the town of Carlion, and Arthur’s Knights gave them a glad
welcome, and said it was a joy to serve under a King who risked his life
as much as any common man.
HOW THE ROUND TABLE BEGAN.
After King Arthur had fought and conquered many enemies, he said one day
to Merlin, whose counsel he took all the days of his life, “My Barons
will let me have no rest, but bid me take a wife, and I have answered
them that I shall take none, except you advise me.”
“It is well,” replied Merlin, “that you should take a wife, but is there
any woman that you love better than another?” “Yes,” said Arthur, “I
love Guenevere, daughter of Leodegrance, King of Cameliard, in whose
house is the Round Table that my father gave him. This maiden is the
fairest that I have ever seen, or ever shall see.” “Sir,” answered
Merlin, “what you say as to her beauty is true, but, if your heart was
not set on her, I could find you another as fair, and of more goodness,
than she. But if a man’s heart is once set it is idle to try to turn
him.” Then Merlin asked the King to give him a company of knights and
esquires, that he might go to the Court of King Leodegrance and tell him
that King Arthur desired to wed his daughter, which Arthur did gladly.
Therefore Merlin rode forth and made all the haste he could till he came
to the Castle of Cameliard, and told King Leodegrance who had sent him
and why.
“That is the best news I have ever had,” replied Leodegrance, “for
little did I think that so great and noble a King should seek to marry
my daughter. As for lands to endow her with, I would give whatever he
chose; but he has lands enough of his own, so I will give him instead
something that will please him much more, the Round Table which Uther
Pendragon gave me, where a hundred and fifty Knights can sit at one
time. I myself can call to my side a hundred good Knights, but I lack
fifty, for the wars have slain many, and some are absent.” And without
more words King Leodegrance gave his consent that his daughter should
wed King Arthur. And Merlin returned with his Knights and esquires,
journeying partly by water and partly by land, till they drew near to
London.
When King Arthur heard of the coming of Merlin and of the Knights with
the Round Table he was filled with joy, and said to those that stood
about him, “This news that Merlin has brought me is welcome indeed, for
I have long loved this fair lady, and the Round Table is dearer to me
than great riches.” Then he ordered that Sir Lancelot should ride to
fetch the Queen, and that preparations for the marriage and her
coronation should be made, which was done. “Now, Merlin,” said the King,
“go and look about my kingdom and bring fifty of the bravest and most
famous Knights that can be found throughout the land.” But no more than
eight and twenty Knights could Merlin find. With these Arthur had to be
content, and the Bishop of Canterbury was fetched, and he blessed the
seats that were placed by the Round Table, and the Knights sat in them.
“Fair Sirs,” said Merlin, when the Bishop had ended his blessing, “arise
all of you, and pay your homage to the King.” So the Knights arose to do
his bidding, and in every seat was the name of the Knight who had sat on
it, written in letters of gold, but two seats were empty. After that
young Gawaine came to the King, and prayed him to make him a Knight on
the day that he should wed Guenevere. “That I will gladly,” replied the
King, “for you are my sister’s son.”
As the King was speaking, a poor man entered the Court, bringing with
him a youth about eighteen years old, riding on a lean mare, though it
was not the custom for gentlemen to ride on mares. “Where is King
Arthur?” asked the man. “Yonder,” answered the Knights. “Have you
business with him?” “Yes,” said the man, and he went and bowed low
before the King: “I have heard, O King Arthur, flower of Knights and
Kings, that at the time of your marriage you would give any man the gift
he should ask for.”
“That is truth,” answered the King, “as long as I do no wrong to other
men or to my kingdom.”
“I thank you for your gracious words,” said the poor man; “the boon I
would ask is that you would make my son a Knight.” “It is a great boon
to ask,” answered the King. “What is your name?”
“Sir, my name is Aries the cowherd.”
“Is it you or your son that has thought of this honour?”
“It is my son who desires it, and not I,” replied the man. “I have
thirteen sons who tend cattle, and work in the fields if I bid them; but
this boy will do nothing but shoot and cast darts, or go to watch
battles and look on Knights, and all day long he beseeches me to bring
him to you, that he may be knighted also.”
“What is your name?” said Arthur, turning to the young man.
“Sir, my name is Tor.”
“Where is your sword that I may knight you?” said the King.
“It is here, my lord.”
“Take it out of its sheath,” said the King, “and require me to make you
a Knight.” Then Tor jumped off his mare and pulled out his sword, and
knelt before the King, praying that he might be made a Knight and a
Knight of the Round Table.
“As for a Knight, that I will make you,” said Arthur, smiting him in the
neck with the sword, “and if you are worthy of it you shall be a Knight
of the Round Table.” Then was the high feast made ready, and the King
was wedded to fair Guenevere at Camelot in the Church of St. Stephen
with all due observance. And the next day Gawaine was made a Knight
also.
Sir Tor proved before long by his gallant deeds that he was well worthy
to sit in one of the empty seats at the Round Table.
THE STORY OF SIR BALIN.
In those days many Kings reigned in the Islands of the Sea, and they
constantly waged war upon each other, and on their liege lord, and news
came to Arthur that Ryons, King of North Wales, had collected a large
host and had ravaged his lands and slain some of his people. When he
heard this, Arthur rose in anger, and commanded that all lords, Knights,
and gentlemen of arms should meet him at Camelot, where he would call a
council, and hold a tourney.
From every part the Knights flocked to Camelot, and the town was full to
overflowing of armed men and their horses. And when they were all
assembled, there rode in a damsel, who said she had come with a message
from the great Lady Lile of Avelion, and begged that they would bring
her before King Arthur. When she was led into his presence she let her
mantle of fur slip off her shoulders, and they saw that by her side a
richly wrought sword was buckled. The King was silent with wonder at the
strange sight, but at last he said, “Damsel, why do you wear this sword?
for swords are not the ornaments of women.” “Oh, my lord,” answered she,
“I would I could find some Knight to rid me of this sword, which weighs
me down and causes me much sorrow. But the man who will deliver me of it
must be one who is mighty of his hands, and pure in his deeds, without
villainy, or treason. If I find a Knight such as this, he will draw this
sword out of its sheath, and he only. For I have been at the Court of
King Ryons, and he and his Knights tried with all their strength to draw
the sword and they could not.”
“Let me see if I can draw it,” said Arthur, “not because I think myself
the best Knight, for well I know how far I am outdone by others, but to
set them an example that they may follow me.” With that the King took
the sword by the sheath and by the girdle, and pulled at it with all his
force, but the sword stuck fast. “Sir,” said the damsel, “you need not
pull half so hard, for he that shall pull it out shall do it with little
strength.” “It is not for me,” answered Arthur, “and now, my Barons, let
each man try his fortune.” So most of the Knights of the Round Table
there present pulled, one after another, at the sword, but none could
stir it from its sheath. “Alas! alas!” cried the damsel in great grief,
“I thought to find in this Court Knights that were blameless and true of
heart, and now I know not where to look for them.” “By my faith,” said
Arthur, “there are no better Knights in the world than these of mine,
but I am sore displeased that they cannot help me in this matter.”
Now at that time there was a poor Knight at Arthur’s Court who had been
kept prisoner for a year and a half because he had slain the King’s
cousin. He was of high birth and his name was Balin, and after he had
suffered eighteen months the punishment of his misdeed the Barons prayed
the King to set him free, which Arthur did willingly. When Balin,
standing apart beheld the Knights one by one try the sword, and fail to
draw it, his heart beat fast, yet he shrank from taking his turn, for he
was meanly dressed, and could not compare with the other Barons. But
after the damsel had bid farewell to Arthur and his Court, and was
setting out on her journey homewards, he called to her and said,
“Damsel, I pray you to suffer me to try your sword, as well as these
lords, for though I am so poorly clothed, my heart is as high as
theirs.” The damsel stopped and looked at him, and answered, “Sir, it is
not needful to put you to such trouble, for where so many have failed it
is hardly likely that you will succeed.” “Ah! fair damsel,” said Balin,
“it is not fine clothes that make good deeds.” “You speak truly,”
replied the damsel, “therefore do what you can.” Then Balin took the
sword by the girdle and sheath, and pulled it out easily, and when he
looked at the sword he was greatly pleased with it. The King and the
Knights were dumb with surprise that it was Balin who had triumphed over
them, and many of them envied him and felt anger towards him. “In
truth,” said the damsel, “this is the best Knight that I ever found,
but, Sir, I pray you give me the sword again.”
“No,” answered Balin, “I will keep it till it is taken from me by
force.” “It is for your sake, not mine, that I ask for it,” said the
damsel, “for with that sword you shall slay the man you love best, and
it will bring about your own ruin.” “I will take what befalls me,”
replied Balin, “but the sword I will not give up, by the faith of my
body.” So the damsel departed in great sorrow. The next day Sir Balin
left the Court, and, armed with his sword, set forth in search of
adventures, which he found in many places where he had not thought to
meet with them. In all the fights that he fought, Sir Balin was the
victor, and Arthur, and Merlin his friend, knew that there was no Knight
living of greater deeds, or more worthy of worship. And he was known to
all as Sir Balin le Savage, the Knight of the two swords.
One day he was riding forth when at the turning of a road he saw a
cross, and on it was written in letters of gold, “Let no Knight ride
towards this castle.” Sir Balin was still reading the writing when there
came towards him an old man with white hair, who said, “Sir Balin le
Savage, this is not the way for you, so turn again and choose some other
path.” And so he vanished, and a horn blew loudly, as a horn is blown at
the death of a beast. “That blast,” said Balin, “is for me, but I am
still alive,” and he rode to the castle, where a great company of
knights and ladies met him and welcomed him, and made him a feast. Then
the lady of the castle said to him, “Knight with the two swords, you
must now fight a Knight that guards an island, for it is our law that no
man may leave us without he first fight a tourney.”
[Illustration: The Damsel Warns Sir Balin.]
“That is a bad custom,” said Balin, “but if I must I am ready; for
though my horse is weary my heart is strong.”
“Sir,” said a Knight to him, “your shield does not look whole to me; I
will lend you another;” so Balin listened to him and took the shield
that was offered, and left his own with his own coat of arms behind him.
He rode down to the shore, and led his horse into a boat which took them
across. When he reached the other side, a damsel came to him crying, “O
knight Balin, why have you left your own shield behind you? Alas! you
have put yourself in great danger, for by your shield you should have
been known. I grieve over your doom, for there is no man living that can
rival you for courage and bold deeds.”
“I repent,” answered Balin, “ever having come into this country, but for
very shame I must go on. Whatever befalls me, either for life or death,
I am ready to take it.” Then he examined his armour, and saw that it was
whole, and mounted his horse.
As he went along the path he beheld a Knight come out of a castle in
front, clothed in red, riding a horse with red trappings. When this red
Knight looked on the two swords, he thought for a moment it was Balin,
but the shield did not bear Balin’s device. So they rode at each other
with their spears, and smote each other’s shields so hard that both
horses and men fell to the ground with the shock, and the Knights lay
unconscious on the ground for some minutes. But soon they rose up again
and began the fight afresh, and they fought till the place was red with
their blood, and they had each seven great wounds. “What Knight are
you?” asked Balin le Savage, pausing for breath, “for never before have
I found any Knight to match me.” “My name,” said he, “is Balan, brother
to the good Knight Balin.”
“Alas!” cried Balin, “that I should ever live to see this day,” and he
fell back fainting to the ground. At this sight Balan crept on his feet
and hands, and pulled off Balin’s helmet, so that he might see his face.
The fresh air revived Balin, and he awoke and said: “O Balan, my
brother, you have slain me, and I you, and the whole world will speak
ill of us both.”
“Alas,” sighed Balan, “if I had only known you! I saw your two swords,
but from your shield I thought you had been another knight.”
“Woe is me!” said Balin, “all this was wrought by an unhappy knight in
the castle, who caused me to change my shield for his. If I lived, I
would destroy that castle that he should not deceive other men.”
“You would have done well,” answered Balan, “for they have kept me
prisoner ever since I slew a Knight that guarded this island, and they
would have kept you captive too.” Then came the lady of the castle and
her companions, and listened as they made their moan. And Balan prayed
that she would grant them the grace to lie together, there where they
died, and their wish was given them, and she and those that were with
her wept for pity.
So they died; and the lady made a tomb for them, and put Balan’s name
alone on it, for Balin’s name she knew not. But Merlin knew, and next
morning he came and wrote it in letters of gold, and he ungirded Balin’s
sword, and unscrewed the pommel, and put another pommel on it, and bade
a Knight that stood by handle it, but the Knight could not. At that
Merlin laughed.
[Illustration: The Death of Balin and Balan]
“Why do you laugh?” asked the Knight. “Because,” said Merlin, “no man
shall handle this sword but the best Knight in the world, and that is
either Sir Lancelot or his son Sir Galahad. With this sword Sir Lancelot
shall slay the man he loves best, and his name is Sir Gawaine.” And this
was later done, in a fight across the seas.
All this Merlin wrote on the pommel of the sword. Next he made a bridge
of steel to the island, six inches broad, and no man could pass over it
that was guilty of any evil deeds. The scabbard of the sword he left on
this side of the island, so that Galahad should find it. The sword
itself he put in a magic stone, which floated down the stream to
Camelot, that is now called Winchester. And the same day Galahad came to
the river, having in his hand the scabbard, and he saw the sword and
pulled it out of the stone, as is told in another place.
WHAT BEAUMAINS ASKED OF THE KING.
As Pentecost drew near King Arthur commanded that all the Knights of the
Round Table should keep the feast at a city called Kin-Kenadon, hard by
the sands of Wales, where there was a great castle. Now it was the
King’s custom that he would eat no food on the day of Pentecost, which
we call Whit Sunday, until he had heard or seen some great marvel. So on
that morning Sir Gawaine was looking from the window a little before
noon when he espied three men on horseback, and with them a dwarf on
foot, who held their horses when they alighted. Then Sir Gawaine went to
the King and said, “Sir, go to your food, for strange adventures are at
hand.” And Arthur called the other Kings that were in the castle, and
all the Knights of the Round Table that were a hundred and fifty, and
they sat down to dine. When they were seated there entered the hall two
men well and richly dressed, and upon their shoulders leaned the
handsomest young man that ever was seen of any of them, higher than the
other two by a cubit. He was wide in the chest and large handed, but his
great height seemed to be a burden and a shame to him, therefore it was
he leaned on the shoulders of his friends. As soon as Arthur beheld him
he made a sign, and without more words all three went up to the high
daïs, where the King sat. Then the tall young man stood up straight, and
said: “King Arthur, God bless you and all your fair fellowship, and in
especial the fellowship of the Table Round. I have come hither to pray
you to give me three gifts, which you can grant me honourably, for they
will do no hurt to you or to any one.” “Ask,” answered Arthur, “and you
shall have your asking.”
“Sir, this is my petition for this feast, for the other two I will ask
after. Give me meat and drink for this one twelvemonth.” “Well,” said
the king, “you shall have meat and drink enough, for that I give to
every man, whether friend or foe. But tell me your name!”
“I cannot tell you that,” answered he. “That is strange,” replied the
King, “but you are the goodliest young man I ever saw,” and, turning to
Sir Kay, the steward, charged him to give the young man to eat and drink
of the best, and to treat him in all ways as if he were a lord’s son.
“There is little need to do that,” answered Sir Kay, “for if he had come
of gentlemen and not of peasants he would have asked of you a horse and
armour. But as the birth of a man is so are his requests. And seeing he
has no name I will give him one, and it shall be Beaumains, or
Fair-hands, and he shall sit in the kitchen and eat broth, and at the
end of a year he shall be as fat as any pig that feeds on acorns.” So
the young man was left in charge of Sir Kay, that scorned and mocked
him.
Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawaine were wroth when they heard what Sir Kay
said, and bade him leave off his mocking, for they believed the youth
would turn out to be a man of great deeds; but Sir Kay paid no heed to
them, and took him down to the great hall, and set him among the boys
and lads, where he ate sadly. After he had finished eating both Sir
Lancelot and Sir Gawaine bade him come to their room, and would have had
him eat and drink there, but he refused, saying he was bound to obey Sir
Kay, into whose charge the King had given him. So he was put into the
kitchen by Sir Kay, and slept nightly with the kitchen boys. This he
bore for a whole year, and was always mild and gentle, and gave hard
words to no one. Only, whenever the Knights played at tourney he would
steal out and watch them. And Sir Lancelot gave him gold to spend, and
clothes to wear, and so did Gawaine. Also, if there were any games held
whereat he might be, none could throw a bar nor cast a stone as far as
he by two good yards.
Thus the year passed by till the feast of Whitsuntide came again, and
this time the king held it at Carlion. But King Arthur would eat no meat
at Whitsuntide till some adventures were told him, and glad was he when
a squire came and said to him, “Sir you may go to your food, for here is
a damsel with some strange tales.” At this the damsel was led into the
hall, and bowed low before the King, and begged he would give her help.
“For whom?” asked the King, “and what is the adventure?” “Sir,” answered
she, “my sister is a noble lady of great fame, who is besieged by a
tyrant, and may not get out of her castle. And it is because your
Knights are said to be the noblest in all the world that I came to you
for aid.” “What is your sister’s name, and where does she dwell? And who
is the man that besieges her, and where does he come from?” “Sir King,”
answered she, “as for my sister’s name, I cannot tell it you now, but
she is a lady of great beauty and goodness, and of many lands. As for
the tyrant who besieges her, he is called the Red Knight of the Red
Lawns.” “I know nothing of him,” said the King. “But I know him,” cried
Sir Gawaine, “and he is one of the most dangerous Knights in the world.
Men say he has the strength of seven, and once when we had crossed
swords I hardly escaped from him with my life.” “Fair damsel,” then said
the King, “there are many Knights here who would go gladly to the rescue
of your lady, but none of them shall do so with my consent unless you
will tell us her name, and the place of her castle.” “Then I must speak
further,” said the damsel. But before she had made answer to the King up
came Beaumains, and spoke to Arthur, saying, “Sir King, I thank you that
for this whole year I have lived in your kitchen, and had meat and
drink, and now I will ask you for the two gifts that you promised me on
this day.” “Ask them,” answered the King. “Sir, these shall be my two
gifts. First grant me the adventure of this damsel, for it is mine by
right.” “You shall have it,” said the King. “Then, Sir, you shall bid
Sir Lancelot du Lake to make me Knight, for I will receive Knighthood at
the hands of no other.” “All this shall be done,” said the King. “Fie on
you,” cried the damsel, “will you give me none but a kitchen boy to
rescue my lady?” and she went away in a rage, and mounted her horse.
No sooner had she left the hall than a page came to Beaumains and told
him that a horse and fair armour had been brought for him, also there
had arrived a dwarf carrying all things that a Knight needed. And when
he was armed there were few men that were handsomer than he, and the
Court wondered greatly whence these splendid trappings had come. Then
Beaumains came into the hall, and took farewell of the King, and Sir
Gawaine and Sir Lancelot, and prayed Sir Lancelot that he would follow
after him. So he departed, and rode after the damsel. Many looked upon
him and marvelled at the strength of his horse, and its golden
trappings, and envied Beaumains his shining coat of mail; but they noted
that he had neither shield nor spear. “I will ride after him,” laughed
Sir Kay, “and see if my kitchen boy will own me for his better.” “Leave
him and stay at home,” said Sir Gawaine and Sir Lancelot, but Sir Kay
would not listen and sprang upon his horse. Just as Beaumains came up
with the damsel, Sir Kay reached Beaumains, and said, “Beaumains, do you
not know me?”
Beaumains turned and looked at him, and answered, “Yes, I know you for
an ill-mannered Knight, therefore beware of me.” At this Sir Kay put his
spear in rest and charged him, and Beaumains drew his sword and charged
Sir Kay, and dashed aside the spear, and thrust him through the side,
till Sir Kay fell down as if he had been dead, and Beaumains took his
shield and spear for himself. Then he sprang on his own horse, bidding
first his dwarf take Sir Kay’s horse, and rode away. All this was seen
by Sir Lancelot, who had followed him, and also by the damsel. In a
little while Beaumains stopped, and asked Sir Lancelot if he would tilt
with him, and they came together with such a shock that both the horses
and their riders fell to the earth and were bruised sorely. Sir Lancelot
was the first to rise, and he helped Beaumains from his horse, and
Beaumains threw his shield from him, and offered to fight on foot. And
they rushed together like wild boars, turning and thrusting and parrying
for the space of an hour, and Sir Lancelot marvelled at the young man’s
strength, and thought he was more like a giant than a Knight, and
dreading lest he himself should be put to shame, he said: “Beaumains, do
not fight so hard, we have no quarrel that forbids us to leave off.”
“That is true,” answered Beaumains, laying down his arms, “but it does
me good, my lord, to feel your might.” “Well,” said Sir Lancelot, “I
promise you I had much ado to save myself from you unshamed, therefore
have no fear of any other Knight.” “Do you think I could really stand
against a proved Knight?” asked Beaumains. “Yes,” said Lancelot, “if you
fight as you have fought to-day I will be your warrant against any one.”
“Then I pray you,” cried Beaumains, “give me the order of knighthood.”
“You must first tell me your name,” replied Lancelot, “and who are your
kindred.” “You will not betray me if I do?” asked Beaumains. “No, that I
will never do, till it is openly known,” said Lancelot. “Then, Sir, my
name is Gareth, and Sir Gawaine is my brother.” “Ah, Sir,” cried
Lancelot, “I am more pleased with you than ever. I was sure you came of
good blood, and that you did not come to the Court for meat and drink
only.” And he bade him kneel, and gave him the order of knighthood.
After that Sir Gareth wished to go his own ways, and departed. When he
was gone, Sir Lancelot went back to Sir Kay and ordered some men that
were by to bear him home on a shield, and in time his wounds were
healed; but he was scorned of all men, and especially of Sir Gawaine and
Sir Lancelot, who told him it was no good deed to treat any young man
so, and no one could tell what his birth might be, or what had brought
him to the Court.
[Illustration: Faugh Sir! You Smell of Y^e Kitchen / Gareth & Linet]
Then Beaumains rode after the damsel, who stopped when she saw him
coming. “What are you doing here?” said she. “Your clothes smell of the
grease and tallow of the kitchen! Do you think to change my heart
towards you because of yonder Knight whom you slew? No, truly! I know
well who you are, you turner of spits! Go back to King Arthur’s kitchen,
which is your proper place.” “Damsel,” replied Beaumains, “you may say
to me what you will, but I shall not quit you whatever you may do, for I
have vowed to King Arthur to relieve the lady in the castle, and I shall
set her free or die fighting for her.” “Fie on you, Scullion,” answered
she. “You will meet with one who will make you such a welcome that you
would give all the broth you ever cooked never to have seen his face.”
“I shall do my best to fight him,” said Beaumains, and held his peace.
Soon they entered the wood, and there came a man flying towards them,
galloping with all his might. “Oh, help! help! lord,” cried he, “for my
master lies in a thicket, bound by six thieves, and I greatly fear they
will slay him.” “Show me the way,” said Sir Beaumains, and they rode
together till they reached the place where the Knight lay bound. Then
Sir Beaumains charged the six thieves, and struck one dead, and another,
and another still, and the other three fled, not liking the battle. Sir
Beaumains pursued them till they turned at bay, and fought hard for
their lives; but in the end Sir Beaumains slew them, and returned to the
Knight and unbound him. The Knight thanked Beaumains heartily for his
deliverance, and prayed him to come to his castle, where he would reward
him. “Sir,” said Beaumains, “I was this day made Knight by noble Sir
Lancelot, and that is reward enough for anything I may do. Besides, I
must follow this damsel.” But when he came near her she reviled him as
before, and bade him ride far from her. “Do you think I set store by
what you have done? You will soon see a sight that will make you tell a
very different tale.” At this the Knight whom Beaumains had rescued rode
up to the damsel, and begged that she would rest in his castle that
night, as the sun was now setting. The damsel agreed, and the Knight
ordered a great supper, and gave Sir Beaumains a seat above the seat of
the damsel, who rose up in anger. “Fie! fie! Sir Knight,” cried she,
“you are uncourteous to set a mere kitchen page before me; he is not fit
to be in the company of highborn people.” Her words struck shame into
the Knight, and he took Beaumains and set him at a side table, and
seated himself before him.
In the early morning Sir Beaumains and the damsel bade farewell to the
Knight, and rode through the forest till they came to a great river,
where stood two Knights on the further side, guarding the passage.
“Well, what do you say now?” asked the damsel. “Will you fight them or
turn back?” “I would not turn if there were six more of them,” answered
Sir Beaumains, and he rushed into the water and so did one of the
Knights. They came together in the middle of the stream, and their
spears broke in two with the force of the charge, and they drew their
swords, hitting hard at each other. At length Sir Beaumains dealt the
other Knight such a blow that he fell from his horse, and was drowned in
the river. Then Beaumains put his horse at the bank, where the second
Knight was waiting for him, and they fought long together, till Sir
Beaumains clave his helmet in two. So he left him dead, and rode after
the damsel.
[Illustration: LINET AND THE BLACK KNIGHT]
“Alas!” she cried, “that even a kitchen page should have power to
destroy two such Knights! You think you have done mighty things, but you
are wrong! As to the first Knight, his horse stumbled, and he was
drowned before you ever touched him. And the other you took from behind,
and struck him when he was defenceless.” “Damsel!” answered Beaumains,
“you may say what you will, I care not what it is, so I may deliver this
lady.” “Fie, foul kitchen knave, you shall see Knights that will make
you lower your crest.” “I pray you be more civil in your language,”
answered Beaumains, “for it matters not to me what Knights they be, I
will do battle with them.” “I am trying to turn you back for your own
good,” answered she, “for if you follow me you are certainly a dead man,
as well I know all you have won before has been by luck.” “Say what you
will, damsel,” said he, “but where you go I will follow you,” and they
rode together till eventide, and all the way she chid him and gave him
no rest.
At length they reached an open space where there was a black lawn, and
on the lawn a black hawthorn, whereon hung a black banner on one side,
and a black shield and spear, big and long, on the other. Close by stood
a black horse covered with silk, fastened to a black stone. A Knight,
covered with black armour, sat on the horse, and when she saw him the
damsel bade him ride away, as his horse was not saddled. But the Knight
drew near and said to her, “Damsel, have you brought this Knight from
King Arthur’s Court to be your champion?” “No, truly,” answered she,
“this is but a kitchen boy, fed by King Arthur for charity.” “Then why
is he clad in armour?” asked the Knight; “it is a shame that he should
even bear you company.” “I cannot be rid of him,” said she, “he rides
with me against my will. I would that you were able to deliver me from
him! Either slay him or frighten him off, for by ill fortune he has this
day slain the two Knights of the passage.” “I wonder much,” said the
Black Knight, “that any man who is well born should consent to fight
with him.” “They do not know him,” replied the damsel, “and they think
he must be a famous Knight because he rides with me.” “That may be,”
said the Black Knight, “but he is well made, and looks likely to be a
strong man; still I promise you I will just throw him to the ground, and
take away his horse and armour, for it would be a shame to me to do
more.” When Sir Beaumains heard him talk thus he looked up and said,
“Sir Knight, you are lightly disposing of my horse and armour, but I
would have you know that I will pass this lawn against your will or not,
and you will only get my horse and armour if you win them in fair fight.
Therefore let me see what you can do.” “Say you so?” answered the
Knight, “now give up the lady at once, for it ill becomes a kitchen page
to ride with a lady of high degree.” “It is a lie,” said Beaumains, “I
am a gentleman born, and my birth is better than yours, as I will prove
upon your body.”
With that they drew back their horses so as to charge each other hotly,
and for the space of an hour and a half they fought fiercely and well,
but in the end a blow from Beaumains threw the Knight from his horse,
and he swooned and died. Then Beaumains jumped down, and seeing that the
Knight’s horse and armour were better than his own, he took them for
himself and rode after the damsel. While they were thus riding together,
and the damsel was chiding him as ever she did, they saw a Knight coming
towards them dressed all in green. “Is that my brother the Black Knight
who is with you?” asked he of the damsel. “No, indeed,” she replied,
“this unhappy kitchen knave has slain your brother, to my great sorrow.”
“Alas!” sighed the Green Knight, “that my brother should die so meanly
at the hand of a kitchen knave. Traitor!” he added, turning to
Beaumains, “thou shalt die for slaying my brother, for he was a noble
Knight, and his name was Sir Percard.” “I defy you,” said Beaumains,
“for I slew him as a good Knight should.”
Then the Green Knight seized a horn which hung from a thorn tree, and
blew three notes upon it, and two damsels came and armed him, and
fastened on him a green shield and a green spear. So the fight began and
raged long, first on horseback and then on foot, till both were sore
wounded. At last the damsel came and stood beside them, and said, “My
lord the Green Knight, why for very shame do you stand so long fighting
a kitchen knave? You ought never to have been made a Knight at all!”
These scornful words stung the heart of the Green Knight, and he dealt a
mighty stroke which cleft asunder the shield of Beaumains. And when
Beaumains saw this, he struck a blow upon the Knight’s helmet which
brought him to his knees, and Beaumains leapt on him, and dragged him to
the ground. Then the Green Knight cried for mercy, and offered to yield
himself prisoner unto Beaumains. “It is all in vain,” answered
Beaumains, “unless the damsel prays me for your life,” and therewith he
unlaced his helmet as though he would slay him. “Fie upon thee, false
kitchen page!” said the damsel, “I will never pray to save his life, for
I am sure he is in no danger.” “Suffer me not to die,” entreated the
Knight, “when a word may save me! Fair Knight,” he went on, turning to
Beaumains, “save my life, and I will forgive you the death of my
brother, and will do you service for ever, and will bring thirty of my
Knights to serve you likewise.” “It is a shame,” cried the damsel, “that
such a kitchen knave should have you and thirty Knights besides.” “Sir
Knight,” said Beaumains, “I care nothing for all this, but if I am to
spare your life the damsel must ask for it,” and he stepped forward as
if to slay him. “Let be, foul knave,” then said the damsel, “do not slay
him. If you do, you will repent it.” “Damsel,” answered Beaumains, “it
is a pleasure to me to obey you, and at your wish I will save his life.
Sir Knight with the green arms, I release you at the request of this
damsel, and I will fulfil all she charges me.”
Then the Green Knight kneeled down, and did him homage with his sword.
“I am sorry,” said the damsel, “for the wounds you have received, and
for your brother’s death, for I had great need of you both, and have
much dread of passing the forest.” “Fear nothing,” answered the Green
Knight, “for this evening you shall lodge in my house, and to-morrow I
will show you the way through the forest.” And they went with the Green
Knight. But the damsel did not mend her ways with Beaumains, and ever
more reviled him, till the Green Knight rebuked her, saying Beaumains
was the noblest Knight that held a spear, and that in the end she would
find he had sprung from some great King. And the Green Knight summoned
the thirty Knights who did him service, and bade them henceforth do
service to Beaumains, and guard him from treachery, and when he had need
of them they would be ready to obey his orders. So they bade each other
farewell, and Beaumains and the damsel rode forth anew. In like manner
did Sir Beaumains overcome the Red Knight, who was the third brother,
and the Red Knight cried for mercy, and offered to bring sixty Knights
to do him service, and Beaumains spared his life at the request of the
damsel, and likewise it so happened to Sir Persant of Inde.
And this time the damsel prayed Beaumains to give up the fight, saying,
“Sir, I wonder who you are and of what kindred you have come. Boldly you
speak, and boldly you have done; therefore I pray you to depart and save
yourself while you may, for both you and your horse have suffered great
fatigues, and I fear we delay too long, for the besieged castle is but
seven miles from this place, and all the perils are past save this one
only. I dread sorely lest you should get some hurt; yet this Sir Persant
of Inde is nothing in might to the Knight who has laid siege to my
lady.” But Sir Beaumains would not listen to her words, and vowed that
by two hours after noon he would have overthrown him, and that it would
still be daylight when they reached the castle. “What sort of a man can
you be?” answered the damsel, looking at him in wonder, “for never did a
woman treat a Knight as ill and shamefully as I have done you, while you
have always been gentle and courteous to me, and no one bears himself
like that save he who is of noble blood.” “Damsel,” replied Beaumains,
“your hard words only drove me to strike the harder, and though I ate in
King Arthur’s kitchen, perhaps I might have had as much food as I wanted
elsewhere. But all I have done was to make proof of my friends, and
whether I am a gentleman or not, fair damsel, I have done you
gentleman’s service, and may perchance do you greater service before we
part from each other.” “Alas, fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I have
said and done against you.” “With all my heart,” he answered, “and since
you are pleased now to speak good words to me, know that I hear them
gladly, and there is no Knight living but I feel strong enough to meet
him.”
So Beaumains conquered Sir Persant of Inde, who brought a hundred
Knights to be sworn into his service, and the next morning the damsel
led him to the castle, where the Red Knight of the Red Lawn held fast
the lady. “Heaven defend you,” cried Sir Persant, when they told him
where they were going; “that is the most perilous Knight now living, for
he has the strength of seven men. He has done great wrong to that lady,
who is one of the fairest in all the world, and it seems to me that this
damsel must be her sister. Is not her name Linet?” “Yes, Sir,” answered
she, “and my lady my sister’s name is dame Lyonesse.” “The Red Knight
has drawn out the siege for two years,” said Sir Persant, “though he
might have forced an entrance many a time, but he hoped that Sir
Lancelot du Lake or Sir Tristram or Sir Gawaine should come to do battle
with him.” “My Lord Sir Persant of Inde,” said the damsel, “I bid you
knight this gentleman before he fight with the Red Knight.” “That I will
gladly,” replied Sir Persant, “if it please him to take the order of
knighthood from so simple a man as I am.” “Sir,” answered Beaumains, “I
thank you for your goodwill, but at the beginning of this quest I was
made a Knight by Sir Lancelot. My name is Sir Gareth of Orkney and Sir
Gawaine is my brother, though neither he nor King Arthur, whose sister
is my mother, knows of it. I pray you to keep it close also.”
Now word was brought unto the besieged lady by the dwarf that her sister
was coming to her with a Knight sent by King Arthur. And when the lady
heard all that Beaumains had done, and how he had overthrown all who
stood in his way, she bade her dwarf take baked venison, and fat capons,
and two silver flagons of wine and a gold cup, and put them into the
hands of a hermit that dwelt in a hermitage close by. The dwarf did so,
and the lady then sent him to greet her sister and Sir Beaumains, and to
beg them to eat and drink in the hermit’s cell, and rest themselves,
which they did. When they drew near the besieged castle Sir Beaumains
saw full forty Knights, with spurs on their heels and swords in their
hands, hanging from the tall trees that stood upon the lawn. “Fair Sir,”
said the damsel, “these Knights came hither to rescue my sister, dame
Lyonesse; and if you cannot overthrow the Knight of the Red Lawn, you
will hang there too.”
[Illustration: The Lady of Lyonesse sees Sir Gareth]
“Truly,” answered Beaumains, “it is a marvel that none of King Arthur’s
Knights has dealt with the Knight of the Red Lawn ere this;” and they
rode up to the castle, which had round it high walls and deep ditches,
till they came to a great sycamore tree, where hung a horn. And whoso
desired to do battle with the Red Knight must blow that horn loudly.
“Sir, I pray you,” said Linet, as Beaumains bent forward to seize it,
“do not blow it till it is full noontide, for during three hours before
that the Red Knight’s strength so increases that it is as the strength
of seven men; but when noon is come, he has the might of one man only.”
“Ah! for shame, damsel, to say such words. I will fight him as he is, or
not at all,” and Beaumains blew such a blast that it rang through the
castle. And the Red Knight buckled on his armour, and came to where
Beaumains stood. So the battle began, and a fierce one it was, and much
ado had Beaumains to last out till noon, when the Red Knight’s strength
began to wane; they rested, and came on again, and in the end the Red
Knight yielded to Sir Beaumains, and the lords and barons in the castle
did homage to the victor, and begged that the Red Knight’s life might be
spared on condition they all took service with Beaumains. This was
granted to them, and Linet bound up his wounds and put ointment on them,
and so she did likewise to Sir Beaumains. But the Red Knight was sent to
the Court of King Arthur, and told him all that Sir Beaumains had done.
And King Arthur and his Knights marvelled.
Now Sir Beaumains had looked up at the windows of Castle Perilous before
the fight, and had seen the face of the Lady Lyonesse, and had thought
it the fairest in all the world. After he had subdued the Red Knight, he
hasted into the castle, and the Lady Lyonesse welcomed him, and he told
her he had bought her love with the best blood in his body. And she did
not say him nay, but put him off for a time. Then the King sent letters
to her to bid her, and likewise Sir Gareth, come to his Court, and by
the counsel of Sir Gareth she prayed the King to let her call a
tournament, and to proclaim that the Knight who bore himself best
should, if he was unwedded, take her and all her lands. But if he had a
wife already he should be given a white ger-falcon, and for his wife a
crown of gold, set about with precious stones.
So the Lady Lyonesse did as Sir Gareth had counselled her, and answered
King Arthur that where Sir Gareth was she could not tell, but that if
the King would call a tourney he might be sure that Sir Gareth would
come to it. “It is well thought of,” said Arthur, and the Lady Lyonesse
departed unto Castle Perilous, and summoned all her Knights around her,
and told them what she had done, and how they were to make ready to
fight in the tournament. She began at once to set her castle in order,
and to think what she should do with the great array of Knights that
would ride hither from the furthest parts—from Scotland and Wales and
Cornwall—and to lodge fitly the Kings, Dukes, Earls, and Barons that
should come with Arthur. Queen Guenevere also she awaited, and the Queen
of Orkney, Sir Gareth’s mother. But Sir Gareth entreated the Lady
Lyonesse and those Knights that were in the castle with him not to let
his name be known, and this they agreed to.
“Sir Gareth,” said dame Lyonesse, “I will lend you a ring, which I
beseech you for the love you bear me to give me back when the tournament
is done, for without it I have but little beauty. This ring is like no
other ring, it will turn green red, and blue white, and the bearer shall
lose no blood, however sore he may be wounded.”
“Truly, my own lady,” answered Sir Gareth, “this ring will serve me
well, and by its help I shall not fear that any man shall know me.” And
Sir Gringamore, brother to the Lady Lyonesse, gave him a bay horse, and
strong armour, and a sharp sword that had once belonged to his father.
On the morning of the fifteenth of August, when the Feast of the
Assumption was kept, the King commanded his heralds to blow loudly their
trumpets, so that every Knight might know that he must enter the lists.
It was a noble sight to see them flocking clad in shining armour, each
man with his device upon his shield. And the heralds marked who bare
them best, and who were overthrown. All marvelled as to who the Knight
could be whose armour sometimes seemed green, and sometimes white, but
no man knew it was Sir Gareth. And whosoever Sir Gareth tilted with was
straightway overthrown. “Of a truth,” cried King Arthur, “that Knight
with the many colours is a good Knight,” and he called Sir Lancelot and
bade him to challenge that Knight to combat. But Sir Lancelot said that
though the Knight had come off victor in every fight, yet his limbs must
be weary, for he had fought as a man fights under the eyes of his lady,
“and for this day,” said Sir Lancelot, “he shall have the honour. Though
it lay in my power to put it from him, I would not.”
Then they paused for a while to rest, and afterwards the tournament
began again more fiercely than before, and Sir Lancelot was set upon by
two Knights at once. When Sir Gareth saw that, he rode in between them,
but no stroke would he deal Sir Lancelot, which Sir Lancelot noted, and
guessed that it was the good Knight Sir Gareth. Sir Gareth went hither
and thither, smiting any one that came in his way, and by fortune he met
with his brother Sir Gawaine, and knocked off his helmet. Now it
happened that while he was fighting a Knight dealt Sir Gareth a fierce
blow on his helm, and he rode off the field to mend it. Then his dwarf
who had been watching eagerly, cried out to Sir Gareth to leave the ring
with him, lest he should lose it while he was drinking, which Sir Gareth
did; and when he had drunk and mended his helm he forgot the ring, at
which the dwarf was glad, for he knew his name could no longer be hid.
And when Sir Gareth returned to the field, his armour shone yellow like
gold, and King Arthur marvelled what Knight he was, for he saw by his
hair that he was the same Knight who had worn the many colours. “Go,” he
said to his heralds, “ride near him and see what manner of Knight he is,
for none can tell me his name.” So a herald drew close to him, and saw
that on his helm was written in golden letters “This helm belongs to Sir
Gareth of Orkney”; and the herald cried out and made proclamation, and
the Kings and Knights pressed to behold him. And when Sir Gareth saw he
was discovered, he struck more fiercely than before, and smote down Sir
Sagramore, and his brother Sir Gawaine. “O brother,” said Sir Gawaine,
“I did not think you would have smitten me!” When Sir Gareth heard him
say that he rode out of the press, and cried to his dwarf, “Boy, you
have played me foul, for you have kept my ring. Give it to me now, that
I may hide myself,” and he galloped swiftly into the forest, and no one
knew where he had gone. “What shall I do next?” asked he of the dwarf.
“Sir,” answered the dwarf, “send the Lady Lyonesse back her ring.” “Your
counsel is good,” said Gareth; “take it to her, and commend me to her
grace, and say I will come when I may, and bid her to be faithful to me,
as I am to her.” After that Sir Gareth rode deeper into the forest.
Though Sir Gareth had left the tournament he found that there were as
many fights awaiting him as if he had remained there. He overcame all
his foes, and sent them and their followers to do homage to King Arthur,
but he himself stayed behind. He was standing alone after they had gone,
when he beheld an armed Knight coming towards him. Sir Gareth sprang on
his horse, and without a word the two crashed together like thunder, and
strove hard for two hours, till the ground was wet with blood. At that
time the damsel Linet came riding by, and saw what was doing, and knew
who were the fighters. And she cried “Sir Gawaine, Sir Gawaine, leave
fighting with your brother Sir Gareth.” Then he threw down his shield
and sword, and ran to Sir Gareth, and first took him in his arms and
next kneeled down and asked mercy of him. “Why do you, who were but now
so strong and mighty, so suddenly yield to me?” asked Sir Gareth, who
had not perceived the damsel. “O Gareth, I am your brother, and have had
much sorrow for your sake.” At this Sir Gareth unlaced his helm and
knelt before Sir Gawaine, and they rose and embraced each other. “Ah, my
fair brother,” said Sir Gawaine, “I ought rightly to do you homage, even
if you were not my brother, for in this twelvemonth you have sent King
Arthur more Knights than any six of the best men of the Round Table.”
While he was speaking there came the Lady Linet, and healed the wounds
of Sir Gareth and of Sir Gawaine. “What are you going to do now?” asked
she. “It is time that King Arthur had tidings of you both, and your
horses are not fit to bear you.”
“Ride, I pray you,” said Sir Gawaine, “to my uncle King Arthur, who is
but two miles away, and tell him what adventure has befallen me.” So she
mounted her mule, and when she had told her tale to King Arthur, he bade
them saddle him a palfrey and invited all the Knights and ladies of his
Court to ride with him. When they reached the place they saw Sir Gareth
and Sir Gawaine sitting on the hill-side. The King jumped off his horse,
and would have greeted them, but he swooned away for gladness, and they
ran and comforted him, and also their mother.
The two Knights stayed in King Arthur’s Court for eight days, and rested
themselves and grew strong. Then said the King to Linet, “I wonder that
your sister, dame Lyonesse, does not come here to visit me, or more
truly to visit my nephew, Sir Gareth, who has worked so hard to win her
love.”
“My lord,” answered Linet, “you must, by your grace, hold her excused,
for she does not know that Sir Gareth is here.”
“Go and fetch her, then,” said Arthur.
“That I will do quickly,” replied Linet, and by the next morning she had
brought dame Lyonesse, and her brother Sir Gringamore, and forty
Knights, but among the ladies dame Lyonesse was the fairest, save only
Queen Guenevere. They were all welcomed of King Arthur, who turned to
his nephew Sir Gareth and asked him whether he would have that lady to
his wife.
“My lord,” replied Sir Gareth, “you know well that I love her above all
the ladies in the world.”
“And what say you, fair lady?” asked the King.
“Most noble King,” said dame Lyonesse, “I would sooner have Sir Gareth
as my husband than any King or Prince that may be christened, and if I
may not have him I promise you I will have none. For he is my first
love, and shall be my last. And if you will suffer him to have his will
and choice, I dare say he will have me.”
“That is truth,” said Sir Gareth.
“What, nephew,” cried the King, “sits the wind in that door? Then you
shall have all the help that is in my power,” and so said Gareth’s
mother. And it was fixed that the marriage should be at Michaelmas, at
Kin-Kenadon by the seashore, and thus it was proclaimed in all places of
the realm. Then Sir Gareth sent his summons to all the Knights and
ladies that he had won in battle that they should be present, and he
gave a rich ring to the Lady Lyonesse, and she gave him one likewise.
And before she departed she had from King Arthur a shining golden bee,
as a token. After that Sir Gareth set her on her way towards her castle,
and returned unto the King. But he would ever be in Sir Lancelot’s
company, for there was no Knight that Sir Gareth loved so well as Sir
Lancelot. The days drew fast to Michaelmas, and there came the Lady
Lyonesse with her sister Linet and her brother Sir Gringamore to
Kin-Kenadon by the sea, and there were they lodged by order of King
Arthur. And upon Michaelmas Day the Bishop of Canterbury wedded Sir
Gareth and the Lady Lyonesse with great ceremonies, and King Arthur
commanded that Sir Gawaine should be joined to the damsel Linet, and Sir
Agrawaine to the niece of dame Lyonesse, whose name was Laurel. Then the
Knights whom Sir Gareth had won in battle came with their followings and
did homage to him, and the Green Knight besought him that he might act
as chamberlain at the feast, and the Red Knight that he might be his
steward. As soon as the feast was ended, they had all manner of
minstrelsy and games and a great tournament that lasted three days, but
at the prayer of dame Lyonesse the King would not suffer that any man
who was wedded should fight at that feast.
HOW MORGAN LE FAY TRIED TO KILL KING ARTHUR.
King Arthur had a sister called Morgan le Fay, who was skilled in magic
of all sorts, and hated her brother because he had slain in battle a
Knight whom she loved. The better to gain her own ends, and to revenge
herself upon the King, she kept a smiling face, and let none guess the
passion in her heart.
One day Morgan le Fay went to Queen Guenevere, and asked her leave to go
into the country. The Queen wished her to wait till Arthur returned, but
Morgan le Fay said she had had bad news and could not wait. Then the
Queen let her depart without delay.
Early next morning at break of day Morgan le Fay mounted her horse and
rode all day and all night, and at noon next day reached the Abbey of
nuns where King Arthur had gone to rest, for he had fought a hard
battle, and for three nights had slept but little. “Do not wake him,”
said Morgan le Fay, who had come there knowing she would find him, “I
will rouse him myself when I think he has had enough sleep,” for she
thought to steal his sword Excalibur from him. The nuns dared not
disobey her, so Morgan le Fay went straight into the room where King
Arthur was lying fast asleep in his bed, and in his right hand was
grasped his sword Excalibur. When she beheld that sight, her heart fell,
for she dared not touch the sword, knowing well that if Arthur waked and
saw her she was a dead woman. So she took the scabbard, and went away on
horseback.
When the King awoke and missed his scabbard, he was angry, and asked who
had been there; and the nuns told him that it was his sister Morgan le
Fay, who had gone away with a scabbard under her mantle.—“Alas!” said
Arthur, “you have watched me badly!”
“Sir,” said they, “we dared not disobey your sister.”
“Saddle the best horse that can be found,” commanded the King, “and bid
Sir Ontzlake take another and come with me.” And they buckled on their
armour and rode after Morgan le Fay.
They had not gone far before they met a cowherd, and they stopped to ask
if he had seen any lady riding that way. “Yes,” said the cowherd, “a
lady passed by here, with forty horses behind her, and went into the
forest yonder.” Then they galloped hard till Arthur caught sight of
Morgan le Fay, who looked back, and, seeing that it was Arthur who gave
chase, pushed on faster than before. And when she saw she could not
escape him, she rode into a lake that lay in the plain on the edge of
the forest, and, crying out, “Whatever may befall me, my brother shall
not have the scabbard,” she threw the scabbard far into the water, and
it sank, for it was heavy with gold and jewels. After that she fled into
a valley full of great stones, and turned herself and her men and her
horses into blocks of marble. Scarcely had she done this when the King
rode up, but seeing her nowhere thought some evil must have befallen her
in vengeance of her misdeeds. He then sought high and low for the
scabbard, but being unable to find it, he returned to the Abbey. When
Arthur was gone, Morgan le Fay turned herself and her horses and her men
back into their former shapes and said, “Now, Sirs, we may go where we
will.” And she departed into the country of Gore, and made her towns and
castles stronger than before, for she feared King Arthur greatly.
Meanwhile King Arthur had rested himself at the Abbey, and afterwards he
rode to Camelot, and was welcomed by his Queen and all his Knights. And
when he told his adventures and how Morgan le Fay sought his death they
longed to burn her for her treason.
[Illustration: MORGAN LE FAY CASTS AWAY THE SCABBARD]
The next morning there arrived a damsel at the Court with a message from
Morgan le Fay, saying that she had sent the King her brother a rich
mantle for a gift, covered with precious stones, and begged him to
receive it and to forgive her in whatever she might have offended him.
The King answered little, but the mantle pleased him, and he was about
to throw it over his shoulders when the Lady of the Lake stepped
forward, and begged that she might speak to him in private. “What is
it?” asked the King. “Say on here, and fear nothing.” “Sir,” said the
lady, “do not put on this mantle, or suffer your Knights to put it on,
till the bringer of it has worn it in your presence.” “Your words are
wise,” answered the King, “I will do as you counsel me. Damsel, I desire
you to put on this mantle that you have brought me, so that I may see
it.” “Sir,” said she, “it does not become me to wear a King’s garment.”
“By my head,” cried Arthur, “you shall wear it before I put it on my
back, or on the back of any of my Knights,” and he signed to them to put
it on her, and she fell down dead, burnt to ashes by the enchanted
mantle. Then the King was filled with anger, more bitter than before,
that his sister should have dealt so wickedly by him.
THE PASSING OF MERLIN.
Many of King Arthur’s Knights set out on journeys in search of
adventure, and one of them, Sir Pellinore, brought a damsel of the lake
to Arthur’s Court, and when Merlin saw her he fell in love with her, so
that he desired to be always in her company. The damsel laughed in
secret at Merlin, but made use of him to tell her all she would know,
and the wizard had no strength to say her nay, though he knew what would
come of it. For he told King Arthur that before long he should be put
into the earth alive, for all his cunning. He likewise told the King
many things that should befall him, and warned him always to keep the
scabbard as well as the sword Excalibur, and foretold that both sword
and scabbard should be stolen from him by a woman whom he most trusted.
“You will miss my counsel sorely,” added Merlin, “and would give all
your lands to have me back again.” “But since you know what will
happen,” said the King, “you may surely guard against it.” “No,”
answered Merlin, “that will not be.” So he departed from the King, and
the maiden followed him whom some call Nimue and others Vivien, and
wherever she went Merlin went also.
They journeyed together to many places, both at home and across the
seas, and the damsel was wearied of him, and sought by every means to be
rid of him, but he would not be shaken off. At last these two wandered
back to Cornwall, and one day Merlin showed Vivien a rock under which he
said great marvels were hidden. Then Vivien put forth all her powers,
and told Merlin how she longed to see the wonders beneath the stone,
and, in spite of all his wisdom, Merlin listened to her and crept under
the rock to bring forth the strange things that lay there. And when he
was under the stone she used the magic he had taught her, and the rock
rolled over him, and buried him alive, as he had told King Arthur. But
the damsel departed with joy, and thought no more of him, now that she
knew all the magic he could teach her.
[Illustration: MERLIN and VIVIEN]