do but little against the Knights of the Round Table, and were sore
pressed to maintain their ground. Seeing this, Sir Launcelot said to
Sir Lavaine: "Sir knight, will ye give me your aid if I go to the
rescue of the weaker side? For it seems to me they may not much longer
hold their own unaided." "Sir," answered Lavaine, "I will gladly
follow you and do what I may." So the two laid their lances in rest
and charged into the thickest of the fight and, with one spear, Sir
Launcelot bore four knights from the saddle. Lavaine, too, did nobly,
for he unhorsed the bold Sir Bedivere and Sir Lucan the Butler. Then
with their swords they smote lustily on the left hand and on the
right, and those whom they had come to aid rallying to them, they
drove the Knights of the Round Table back a space. So the fight raged
furiously, Launcelot ever being in the thickest of the press and
performing such deeds of valor, that all marvelled to see him, and
would fain know who was the Knight of the Crimson Sleeve. But the
knights of Arthur's court felt shame of their discomfiture, and, in
especial, those of Launcelot's kin were wroth that one should appear
who seemed mightier even than Launcelot's self. So they called to each
other and, making a rally, directed all their force against the
stranger knight who had so turned the fortunes of the day. With lances
in rest, Sir Lionel, Sir Bors, and Sir Ector, bore down together upon
Sir Launcelot, and Sir Bors' spear pierced Sir Launcelot and brought
him to the earth, leaving the spear head broken off in his side. This
Sir Lavaine saw, and immediately, with all his might, he rode upon the
King of Scots, unhorsed him and took his horse to Sir Launcelot. Now
Sir Launcelot felt as he had got his death-wound, but such was his
spirit that he was resolved to do some great deed while yet his
strength remained. So, with Lavaine's aid, he got upon the horse, took
a spear and laying it in rest, bore down, one after the other, Sir
Bors, Sir Lionel, and Sir Ector. Next he flung himself into the
thickest of the fight, and before the trumpets sounded the signal to
cease, he had unhorsed thirty good knights. Then the Kings of Scotland
and Ireland came to Sir Launcelot and said: "Sir knight, we thank you
for the service done us this day. And now, we pray you, come with us
to receive the prize which is rightly yours; for never have we seen
such deeds as ye have done this day." "My fair lords," answered Sir
Launcelot, "for aught that I have accomplished, I am like to pay
dearly; I beseech you, suffer me to depart." With these words, he rode
away full gallop, followed by Sir Lavaine; and when he had come to a
little wood, he called Lavaine to him, saying: "Gentle knight, I
entreat you, draw forth this spear head, for it nigh slayeth me." "Oh!
my dear lord," said Lavaine, "I fear sore to draw it forth lest ye
die." "If ye love me, draw it out," answered Launcelot. So Lavaine did
as he was bidden, and, with a deathly groan, Sir Launcelot fell in a
swoon to the ground. When he was a little recovered, he begged Lavaine
to help him to his horse and lead him to a hermitage hard by where
dwelt a hermit who, in bygone days, had been known to Launcelot for a
good knight and true. So with pain and difficulty they journeyed to
the hermitage, Lavaine oft fearing that Sir Launcelot would die. And
when the hermit saw Sir Launcelot, all pale and besmeared with blood,
he scarce knew him for the bold Sir Launcelot du Lac; but he bore him
within and dressed his wounds and bade him be of good cheer, for he
should recover. So there Sir Launcelot abode many weeks and Sir
Lavaine with him; for Lavaine would not leave him, such love had he
for the good knight he had taken for his lord.
Now when it was known that the victorious knight had departed from the
field sore wounded, Sir Gawain vowed to go in search of him. So it
chanced that, in his wanderings, he came to Astolat, and there he had
a hearty welcome of the Lord of Astolat, who asked him for news of the
tournament. Then Sir Gawain related how two stranger knights, bearing
white shields, had won great glory, and in especial one, who wore in
his helm a crimson sleeve, had surpassed all others in knightly
prowess. At these words, the fair Elaine cried aloud with delight.
"Maiden," said Gawain, "know ye this knight?" "Not his name," she
replied; "but full sure was I that he was a noble knight when I prayed
him to wear my favor." Then she showed Gawain the shield which she had
kept wrapped in rich broideries, and immediately Sir Gawain knew it
for Launcelot's. "Alas!" cried he, "without doubt it was Launcelot
himself that we wounded to the death. Sir Bors will never recover the
woe of it."
Then, on the morrow, Sir Gawain rode to London to tell the court how
the stranger knight and Launcelot were one; but the Fair Maid of
Astolat rose betimes, and having obtained leave of her father, set out
to search for Sir Launcelot and her brother Lavaine. After many
journeyings, she came, one day, upon Lavaine exercising his horse in a
field, and by him she was taken to Sir Launcelot. Then, indeed, her
heart was filled with grief when she saw the good knight to whom she
had given her crimson sleeve thus laid low; so she abode in the
hermitage, waiting upon Sir Launcelot and doing all within her power
to lessen his pain.
After many weeks, by the good care of the hermit and the fair Elaine,
Sir Launcelot was so far recovered that he might bear the weight of
his armor and mount his horse again. Then, one morn, they left the
hermitage and rode all three, the Fair Maid, Sir Launcelot, and Sir
Lavaine, to the castle of Astolat, where there was much joy of their
coming. After brief sojourn, Sir Launcelot desired to ride to court,
for he knew there would be much sorrow among his kinsmen for his long
absence. But when he would take his departure, Elaine cried aloud:
"Ah! my lord, suffer me to go with you, for I may not bear to lose
you." "Fair child," answered Sir Launcelot gently, "that may not be.
But in the days to come, when ye shall love and wed some good knight,
for your sake I will bestow upon him broad lands and great riches; and
at all times will I hold me ready to serve you as a true knight may."
Thus spoke Sir Launcelot, but the fair Elaine answered never a word.
So Sir Launcelot rode to London where the whole court was glad of his
coming; but from the day of his departure, the Fair Maid drooped and
pined until, when ten days were passed, she felt that her end was at
hand. So she sent for her father and two brothers, to whom she said
gently: "Dear father and brethren, I must now leave you." Bitterly
they wept, but she comforted them all she might, and presently desired
of her father a boon. "Ye shall have what ye will," said the old
lord; for he hoped that she might yet recover. Then first she required
her brother, Sir Tirre, to write a letter, word for word as she said
it; and when it was written, she turned to her father and said: "Kind
father, I desire that, when I am dead, I may be arrayed in my fairest
raiment, and placed on a bier; and let the bier be set within a barge,
with one to steer it until I be come to London, Then, perchance, Sir
Launcelot will come and look upon me with kindness." So she died, and
all was done as she desired; for they set her, looking as fair as a
lily, in a barge all hung with black, and an old dumb man went with
her as helmsman.
Slowly the barge floated down the river until it had come to
Westminster; and as it passed under the palace walls, it chanced that
King Arthur and Queen Guenevere looked forth from a window. Marvelling
much at the strange sight, together they went forth to the quay,
followed by many of the knights. Then the king espied the letter
clasped in the dead maiden's hand, and drew it forth gently and broke
the seal. And thus the letter ran: "Most noble knight, Sir Launcelot,
I, that men called the Fair Maid of Astolat, am come hither to crave
burial at thy hands for the sake of the unrequited love I gave thee.
As thou art peerless knight, pray for my soul."
Then the king bade fetch Sir Launcelot, and when he was come, he
showed him the letter. And Sir Launcelot, gazing on the dead maiden,
was filled with sorrow. "My lord Arthur," he said, "for the death of
this dear child I shall grieve my life long. Gentle she was and
loving, and much was I beholden to her; but what she desired I could
not give." "Yet her request now thou wilt grant, I know," said the
king, "for ever thou art kind and courteous to all." "It is my
desire," answered Sir Launcelot.
So the Maid of Astolat was buried in the presence of the king and
queen and of the fellowship of the Round Table, and of many a gentle
lady who wept, that time, the fair child's fate. Over her grave was
raised a tomb of white marble, and on it was sculptured the shield of
Sir Launcelot; for, when he had heard her whole story, it was the
king's will that she that in life had guarded the shield of his
noblest knight, should keep it also in death.
THE MABINOGION
Mabinogion means Tales, and it is the name given to the collection of
popular tales belonging to the people of Wales. The Welsh is a very
old language, one of the oldest in Europe, with poems dating from the
sixth century. It is so much a spoken language, and so little a
printed language, that it was only in recent years that the tales were
translated into English by Lady Charlotte Guest. The following stories
have been retold from her text.
KYNON'S ADVENTURE AT THE FOUNTAIN
By Lady Charlotte Guest
King Arthur was at Caerleon upon Usk; and one day he sat in his
chamber, and with him were Owain, the son of Urien, and Kynon the son
of Clydno, and Kay the son of Kyner, and Guenevere and her handmaidens
at needlework by the window. In the centre of the chamber King Arthur
sat, upon a seat of green rushes, over which was spread a covering of
flame-covered satin, and a cushion of red satin was under his elbow.
Then Arthur spoke. "If I thought you would not disparage me," said he,
"I would sleep while I wait for my repast; and you can entertain one
another with relating tales, and can obtain a flagon of mead and some
meat from Kay." And the king went to sleep. And Kynon the son of
Clydno asked Kay for that which Arthur had promised them. "I too will
have the good tale which he promised me," said Kay. "Nay," answered
Kynon; "fairer will it be for thee to fulfil Arthur's behest in the
first place, and then we will tell thee the best tale that we know."
So Kay went to the kitchen and to the mead-cellar, and returned,
bearing a flagon of mead, and a golden goblet, and a handful of
skewers, upon which were broiled slices of meat. They ate the collops,
and began to drink the mead. "Now," said Kay, "it is time for you to
give me my story." "Kynon," said Owain, "do thou pay to Kay the tale
that is his due." "I will do so," answered Kynon.
"I was the only son of my mother and father, and I was exceedingly
aspiring, and my daring was very great. I thought there was no
enterprise in the world too mighty for me: and after I had achieved
all the adventures that were in my own country I equipped myself, and
set forth to journey through deserts and distant regions. And at
length it chanced that I came to the fairest valley in the world,
wherein were trees all of equal growth; and a river ran through the
valley, and a path was by the side of the river. I followed the path
until midday, and continued my journey along the remainder of the
valley until the evening; and at the extremity of the plain I came to
a large and lustrous castle, at the foot of which was a torrent. I
approached the castle, and there I beheld two youths with yellow
curling hair, each with a frontlet of gold upon his head, and clad in
a garment of yellow satin; and they had gold clasps upon their
insteps. In the hand of each of them was an ivory bow, strung with the
sinews of the stag, and their arrows and their shafts were of the bone
of the whale, and were winged with peacock's feathers. The shafts also
had golden heads. They had daggers with blades of gold, with hilts of
the bone of the whale, and they were shooting at a mark.
"A little away from them I saw a man in the prime of life, with his
beard newly shorn, clad in a robe and mantle of yellow satin, and
round the top of his mantle was a band of gold lace. On his feet were
shoes of variegated leather, fastened by two bosses of gold. When I
saw him I went towards him and saluted him; and such was his courtesy,
that he no sooner received my greeting than he returned it. And he
went with me towards the castle. Now there were no dwellers in the
castle, except those who were in one hall. There I saw four and twenty
damsels, embroidering satin at a window. And this I tell thee, Kay,
that the least fair of them was fairer than the fairest maid thou
didst ever behold in the island of Britain; and the least lovely of
them was more lovely than Guenevere, the wife of Arthur, when she
appeared loveliest, at the feast of Easter. They rose up at my coming,
and six of them took my horse, and divested me of my armor, and six
others took my arms and washed them in a vessel till they were
perfectly bright. And the third six spread cloths upon the tables, and
prepared meat. And the fourth six took off my soiled garments, and
placed others upon me, namely, an under vest and a doublet of fine
linen, and a robe and a surcoat, and a mantle of yellow satin, with a
broad gold band upon the mantle. And they placed cushions both beneath
and around me, with coverings of red linen. And I sat down. Now the
six maidens who had taken my horse unharnessed him as well as if they
had been the best squires in the island of Britain.
"Then behold they brought bowls of silver, wherein was water to wash,
and towels of linen, some green and some white; and I washed. And in a
little while the man sat down at the table. I sat next to him, and
below me sat all the maidens, except those who waited on us. The table
was of silver, and the cloths upon the table were of linen. No vessel
was served upon the table that was not either of gold or of silver or
of buffalo horn, and our meat was brought to us. And verily, Kay, I
saw there every sort of meat and every sort of liquor that I ever saw
elsewhere; but the meat and the liquor were better served there than I
ever saw them in any other place.
"Until the repast was half over, neither the man nor any one of the
damsels spoke a single word to me; but when the man perceived that it
would be more agreeable for me to converse than to eat any more, he
began to inquire of me who I was. I told the man who I was, and what
was the cause of my journey, and said that I was seeking whether any
one was superior to me, or whether I could gain mastery over all. The
man looked upon me, and smiled and said, 'If I did not fear to do thee
a mischief, I would show thee that which thou seekest.' Then I
desired him to speak freely. And he said: 'Sleep here to-night, and in
the morning arise early, take the road upwards through the valley,
until thou reachest the wood. A little way within the wood thou wilt
come to a large sheltered glade, with a mound in the centre, and thou
wilt see a black man of great stature on the top of the mound. He has
but one foot, and one eye in the middle of his forehead. He is the
wood-ward of that wood. Thou wilt see a thousand wild animals grazing
around him. Inquire of him the way out of the glade, and he will reply
to thee briefly, and will point out the road by which thou shalt find
that which thou art in quest of.'
"Long seemed that night to me. The next morning I arose and equipped
myself, mounted my horse, and proceeded straight through the valley to
the wood, and at length I arrived at the glade. The black man was
there, sitting upon the top of the mound; and I was three times more
astonished at the number of wild animals that I beheld than the man
had said I should be. I inquired of him the way, and he asked me
roughly whither I would go. When I had told him who I was and what I
sought, 'Take,' said he, 'that path that leads toward the head of the
glade, and there thou wilt find an open space like to a large valley,
and in the midst of it a tall tree. Under this tree is a fountain, and
by the side of the fountain a marble slab, and on the marble slab a
silver bowl, attached by a chain of silver, that it may not be carried
away. Take the bowl and throw a bowlful of water on the slab. If thou
dost not find trouble in that adventure, thou needest not seek it
during the rest of thy life'
"So I journeyed on until I reached the summit of the steep. And there
I found everything as the black man had described it to me. I went up
to the tree, and beneath it I saw the fountain, and by its side the
marble slab, and the silver bowl fastened by the chain. Then I took
the bowl, and cast a bowlful of water upon the slab. Immediately I
heard a mighty peal of thunder, so that heaven and earth seemed to
tremble with its fury. And after the thunder came a shower; and of a
truth I tell thee, Kay, that it was such a shower as neither man nor
beast could endure and live. I turned my horse's flank toward the
shower, and placed the point of my shield over his head and neck,
while I held the upper part of it over my own neck. And thus I
withstood the shower. Presently the sky became clear, and with that,
behold, the birds lighted upon the tree, and sang. Truly, Kay, I never
heard any melody equal to that, either before or since. And when I was
most charmed with listening to the birds, lo! a chiding voice was
heard of one approaching me, and saying: 'O knight, what has brought
thee hither? What evil have I done to thee, that thou shouldst act
toward me and my possessions as thou hast this day? Dost thou not know
that the shower to-day has left in my dominions neither man nor beast
alive that was exposed to it?' And thereupon, behold, a knight on a
black horse appeared, clothed in jet-black velvet, and with a tabard
of black linen about him. We charged each other, and as the onset was
furious, it was not long before I was overthrown. Then the knight
passed the shaft of his lance through the bridle-rein of my horse, and
rode off with the two horses, leaving me where I was. He did not even
bestow so much notice upon me as to imprison me, nor did he despoil me
of my arms. So I returned along the road by which I had come. And
when I reached the glade where the black man was, I confess to thee,
Kay, it is a marvel that I did not melt down into a liquid pool,
through the shame that I felt at the black man's derision. That night
I came to the same castle where I had spent the night preceding, and I
was more agreeably entertained that night than I had been the night
before. I conversed freely with the inmates of the castle, and none of
them alluded to my expedition to the fountain, neither did I mention
it to any. And I remained there that night. When I arose on the
morrow I found ready saddled a dark bay palfrey, with nostrils as red
as scarlet. After putting on my armor, and leaving there my blessing,
I returned to my own court. That horse I still possess, and he is in
the stable yonder. And I declare that I would not part with him for
the best palfrey in the island of Britain.
"Now, of a truth, Kay, no man ever before confessed to an adventure so
much to his own discredit; and verily it seems strange to me that
neither before nor since have I heard of any person who knew of this
adventure, and that the subject of it should exist within King
Arthur's dominions without any other person lighting upon it."
OWAIN'S ADVENTURE AT THE FOUNTAIN
By Lady Charlotte Guest
"Now," quoth Owain, "would it not be well to go and endeavor to
discover that place?" "By the hand of my friend," said Kay, "often
dost thou utter that with thy tongue which thou wouldest not make good
with thy deeds."
"In very truth," said Guenevere, "it were better thou wert hanged,
Kay, than to use such uncourteous speech towards a man like Owain."
"By the hand of my friend, good lady," said Kay, "thy praise of Owain
is not greater than mine."
With that Arthur awoke, and asked if he had not been sleeping a
little.
"Yes, lord," answered Owain, "thou hast slept awhile."
"Is it time for us to go to meat?"
"It is, lord," said Owain.
Then the horn for washing was sounded, and the king and all his
household sat down to eat. When the meal was ended Owain withdrew to
his lodging, and made ready his horse and his arms.
On the morrow with the dawn of day he put on his armor, mounted his
charger, and travelled through distant lands, and over desert
mountains. At length he arrived at the valley which Kynon had
described to him, and he was certain that it was the same that he
sought. Journeying along the valley, by the side of the river, he
followed its course till he came to the plain, and within sight of the
castle. When he approached the castle he saw the youths shooting with
their bows, in the place where Kynon had seen them, and the yellow
man, to whom the castle belonged, standing hard by. And no sooner had
Owain saluted the yellow man, than he was saluted by him in return.
He went forward towards the castle, and there he saw the chamber; and
when he had entered the chamber, he beheld the maidens working at
satin embroidery, in chains of gold. Their beauty and their comeliness
seemed to Owain far greater than Kynon had represented to him. They
arose to wait upon Owain, as they had done to Kynon, and the meal
which they set before him gave even more satisfaction to Owain than it
had done to Kynon.
About the middle of the repast the yellow man asked Owain the object
of his journey. Owain made it known to him, and said, "I am in quest
of the knight who guards the fountain." Upon this the yellow man
smiled, and said that he was as loath to point out that adventure to
him as he had been to Kynon. However, he described the whole to Owain,
and they retired to rest.
The next morning Owain found his horse made ready for him by the
damsels, and he set forward and came to the glade where the black man
was. The stature of the black man seemed more wonderful to Owain than
it had done to Kynon; and Owain asked of him his road, and he showed
it to him. And Owain followed the road till he came to the green tree;
and he beheld the fountain, and the slab beside the fountain, with the
bowl upon it. Owain took the bowl and threw a bowlful of water upon
the slab. And, lo! the thunder was heard, and after the thunder came
the shower, more violent than Kynon had described, and after the
shower the sky became bright. Immediately the birds came and settled
upon the tree and sang. And when their song was most pleasing to Owain
he beheld a knight coming towards him through the valley; and he
prepared to receive him, and encountered him violently. Having broken
both their lances, they drew their swords and fought blade to blade.
Then Owain struck the knight a blow through his helmet, head-piece,
and visor, and through the skin, and the flesh, and the bone, until it
wounded the very brain. Then the black knight felt that he had
received a mortal wound, upon which he turned his horse's head and
fled. Owain pursued him, and followed close upon him, although he was
not near enough to strike him with his sword. Then Owain descried a
vast and resplendent castle; and they came to the castle gate. The
black knight was allowed to enter, but the portcullis was let fall
upon Owain, and it struck his horse behind the saddle, and cut him in
two, and carried away the rowels of the spurs that were upon Owain's
heels. And the portcullis descended to the floor. And the rowels of
the spurs and part of the horse were without, and Owain with the other
part of the horse remained between the two gates, and the inner gate
was closed, so that Owain could not go thence; and Owain was in a
perplexing situation. While he was in this state, he could see through
an aperture in the gate a street facing him, with a row of houses on
each side. He beheld a maiden with yellow, curling hair, and a
frontlet of gold upon her head; and she was clad in a dress of yellow
satin, and on her feet were shoes of variegated leather. And she
approached the gate, and desired that it should be opened. "Heaven
knows, lady," said Owain, "it is no more possible for me to open to
thee from hence, than it is for thee to set me free." And he told her
his name, and who he was. "Truly," said the damsel, "it is very sad
that thou canst not be released; and every woman ought to succor thee,
for I know there is no one more faithful in the service of ladies than
thou. Therefore," quoth she, "whatever is in my power to do for thy
release, I will do it. Take this ring and put it on thy finger, with
the stone inside thy hand, and close thy hand upon the stone. As long
as thou concealest it, it will conceal thee. When they come forth to
fetch thee, they will be much grieved that they cannot find thee. I
will await thee on the horseblock yonder, and thou wilt be able to see
me, though I cannot see thee. Therefore come and place thy hand upon
my shoulder, that I may know that thou art near me. And by the way
that I go hence do thou accompany me."
Then the maiden went away from Owain, and he did all that she had told
him. The people of the castle came to seek Owain to put him to death;
and when they found nothing but the half of his horse, they were
sorely grieved.
And Owain vanished from among them, and went to the maiden, and placed
his hand upon her shoulder; whereupon she set off, and Owain followed
her, until they came to the door of a large and beautiful chamber, and
the maiden opened it, and they went in. Owain looked around the
chamber, and behold there was not a single nail in it that was not
painted with gorgeous colors, and there was not a single panel that
had not sundry images in gold portrayed upon it.