King of North Wales, bearing this message from his master: That King
Ryence had discomfited eleven kings, and had compelled each one of them
to cut off his beard; that he had trimmed a mantle with these beards,
and lacked but one more beard to finish it; and that he therefore now
sent for King Arthur's beard, which he required of him forthwith, or
else he would enter his lands and burn and slay, and never leave them
till he had taken by force not his beard only, but his head also.
When King Arthur heard these words he flushed all scarlet, and rising in
great anger said, "Well it is for thee that thou speakest another man's
words with thy lips, and not thine own. Thou hast said thy message,
which is the most insolent and villainous that ever man heard sent to
any king: now hear my reply. My beard is yet too young to trim that
mantle of thy master's with; yet, young although I be, I owe no homage
either to him or any man--nor will ever owe. But, young although I be, I
will have thy master's homage upon both his knees before this year be
past, or else he shall lose his head, by the faith of my body, for this
message is the shamefullest I ever heard speak of. I see well thy king
hath never yet met with a worshipful man; but tell him that King Arthur
will have his head or his worship right soon."
Then the messenger departed, and Arthur, looking round upon his knights,
demanded of them if any there knew this King Ryence. "Yea," answered Sir
Noran, "I know him well, and there be few better or stronger knights
upon a field than he; and he is passing proud and haughty in his heart;
wherefore I doubt not, Lord, he will make war on thee with mighty
power."
"Well," said King Arthur, "I shall be ready for him, and that shall he
find."
While the king thus spoke, there came into the hall a damsel having on a
mantle richly furred, which she let fall, and showed herself to be
girded with a noble sword. The king being surprised at this, said,
"Damsel, wherefore art thou girt with that sword, for it beseemeth thee
not?" "Sir," said she, "I will tell thee. This sword wherewith I am thus
girt gives me great sorrow and encumbrance, for I may not be delivered
from it till I find a knight faithful and pure and true, strong of body
and of valiant deeds, without guile or treachery, who shall be able to
draw it from its scabbard, which no man else can do. And I have but just
now come from the court of King Ryence, for there they told me many
great and good knights were to be ever found; but he and all his knights
have tried to draw it forth in vain--for none of them can move it."
"This is a great marvel," said King Arthur; "I will myself try to draw
forth this sword, not thinking in my heart that I am the best knight,
but rather to begin and give example that all may try after me." Saying
this, he took the sword and pulled at it with all his might, but could
not shake or move it.
"Thou needest not strive so hard, Lord," said the damsel, "for whoever
may be able to pull it forth shall do so very easily."
"Thou sayest well," replied the king, remembering how he had himself
drawn forth the sword from the stone before St. Paul's. "Now try ye, all
my barons; but beware ye be not stained with shame, or any treachery, or
guile." And turning away his face from them, King Arthur mused full
heavily on sins within his breast he knew of, and which his failure
brought to mind right sadly.
Then all the barons present tried each after other, but could none of
them succeed; whereat the damsel greatly wept, and said, "Alas, alas! I
thought in this court to have found the best knight, without shame or
treachery or treason."
Now by chance there was at that time a poor knight with King Arthur, who
had been prisoner at his court for half a year or more, charged with
slaying unawares a knight who was a cousin of the king's. He was named
Balin le Savage, and had been by the good offices of the barons
delivered from prison, for he was of good and valiant address and gentle
blood. He being secretly present at the court saw this advantage, and
felt his heart rise high within him, and longed to try the sword as did
the others; but being poor and poorly clad, he was ashamed to come
forward in the press of knights and nobles. But in his heart he felt
assured that he could do better--if Heaven willed--than any knight among
them all.
So as the damsel left the king, he called to her and said, "Damsel, I
pray thee of thy courtesy, suffer me to try the sword as well as all
these lords; for though I be but poorly clad, I feel assurance in my
heart."
The damsel looked at him, saw in him a likely and an honest man, but
because of his poor garments could not think him to be any knight of
worship, and said, "Sir, there is no need to put me to any more pain or
labor; why shouldst thou succeed where so many worthy ones have failed?"
"Ah, fair lady," answered Balin, "worthiness and brave deeds are not
shown by fair raiment but manhood and truth lie hid within the heart.
There be many worshipful knights unknown to all the people."
"By my faith, thou sayest truth," replied the damsel; "try therefore, if
thou wilt, what thou canst do."
So Balin took the sword by the girdle and hilt, and drew it lightly out,
and looking on its workmanship and brightness, it pleased him greatly.
But the king and all the barons marveled at Sir Balin's fortune, and
many knights were envious of him, for, "Truly," said the damsel, "this
is a passing good knight, and the best man I have ever found, and the
most worshipfully free from treason, treachery, or villainy, and many
wonders shall he achieve.
"Now, gentle and courteous knight," continued she, turning to Balin,
"give me the sword again."
"Nay," said Sir Balin, "save it be taken from me by force, I shall
preserve this sword for evermore."
"Thou art not wise," replied the damsel, "to keep it from me; for if
thou wilt do so, thou shall slay with it the best friend thou hast, and
the sword shall be thine own destruction also."
"I will take whatever adventure God may send," said Balin; "but the
sword will I keep, by the faith of my body."
"Thou will repent it shortly," said the damsel; "I would take the sword
for thy sake rather than for mine, for I am passing grieved and heavy
for thy sake, who wilt not believe the peril I foretell thee." With that
she departed, making great lamentation.
Then Balin sent for his horse and armor, and took his leave of King
Arthur, who urged him to stay at his court. "For," said he, "I believe
that thou art displeased that I showed thee unkindness; blame me not
overmuch, for I was misinformed against thee, and knew not truly what a
knight of worship thou art. Abide in this court with my good knights,
and I will so advance thee that thou shalt be well pleased."
"God thank thee, Lord," said Balin, "for no man can reward thy bounty
and thy nobleness; but at this time I must needs depart, praying thee
ever to hold me in thy favor."
"Truly," said King Arthur, "I am grieved for thy departure; but tarry
not long, and thou shalt be right welcome to me and all my knights when
thou returnest, and I will repair my neglect and all that I have done
amiss against thee."
"God thank thee, Lord," again said Balin, and made ready to depart.
But meanwhile came into the court a lady upon horseback, full richly
dressed, and saluted King Arthur, and asked him for the gift that he had
promised her when she gave him his sword Excalibur, "for," said she, "I
am the lady of the lake."
"Ask what thou wilt," said the king, "and thou shalt have it, if I have
power to give."
"I ask," said she, "the head of that knight who hath just achieved the
sword, or else the damsel's head who brought it, or else both; for the
knight slew my brother, and the lady caused my father's death."
"Truly," said King Arthur, "I cannot grant thee this desire; it were
against my nature and against my name; but ask whatever else thou wilt,
and I will do it."
"I will demand no other thing," said she.
And as she spake came Balin, on his way to leave the court, and saw her
where she stood, and knew her straightway for his mother's murderess,
whom he had sought in vain three years. And when they told him that she
had asked King Arthur for his head, he went up straight to her and said,
"May evil have thee! Thou desirest my head, therefore shalt thou lose
thine"; and with his sword he lightly smote her head off, in the
presence of the king and all the court.
"Alas, for shame!" cried out King Arthur, rising up in wrath; "why hast
thou done this, shaming both me and my court? I am beholden greatly to
this lady, and under my safe conduct came she here; thy deed is passing
shameful; never shall I forgive thy villainy."
"Lord," cried Sir Balin, "hear me; this lady was the falsest living, and
by her witchcraft hath destroyed many, and caused my mother also to be
burnt to death by her false arts and treachery."
"What cause soever thou mightest have had," said the king, "thou
shouldst have forborne her in my presence. Deceive not thyself, thou
shalt repent this sin, for such a shame was never brought upon my court;
depart now from my face with all the haste thou mayest."
Then Balin took up the head of the lady and carried it to his lodgings,
and rode forth with his squire from out the town. Then said he, "Now
must we part; take ye this head and bear it to my friends in
Northumberland, and tell them how I speed, and that our worst foe is
dead; also tell them that I am free from prison, and of the adventure of
my sword."
"Alas!" said the squire, "ye are greatly to blame to have so displeased
King Arthur."
"As for that," said Sir Balin, "I go now to find King Ryence, and
destroy him or lose my life; for should I take him prisoner, and lead
him to the court, perchance King Arthur would forgive me, and become my
good and gracious lord."
"Where shall I meet thee again?" said the squire.
"In King Arthur's court," said Balin.
V
SIR BALIN FIGHTS WITH HIS BROTHER, SIR BALAN
Now there was a knight at the court more envious than the others of Sir
Balin, for he counted himself one of the best knights in Britain. His
name was Lancear; and going to the king, he begged leave to follow after
Sir Balin and avenge the insult he had put upon the court. "Do thy
best," replied the king, "for I am passing wroth with Balin."
In the meantime came Merlin, and was told of this adventure of the sword
and lady of the lake.
"Now hear me," said he, "when I tell ye that this lady who hath brought
the sword is the falsest damsel living."
"Say not so," they answered, "for she hath a brother a good knight, who
slew another knight this damsel loved; so she, to be revenged upon her
brother, went to the Lady Lile, of Avilion, and besought her help. Then
Lady Lile gave her the sword, and told her that no man should draw it
forth but one, a valiant knight and strong, who should avenge her on her
brother. This, therefore, was the reason why the damsel came here."
"I know it all as well as ye do," answered Merlin; "and would to God
she had never come hither, for never came she into any company but to do
harm; and that good knight who hath achieved the sword shall be himself
slain by it, which shall be great harm and loss, for a better knight
there liveth not; and he shall do unto my lord the king great honor and
service."
Then Sir Lancear, having armed himself at all points, mounted, and rode
after Sir Balin, as fast as he could go, and overtaking him, he cried
aloud, "Abide, Sir knight! wait yet awhile, or I shall make thee do so."
Hearing him cry, Sir Balin fiercely turned his horse, and said, "Fair
knight, what wilt thou with me? wilt thou joust?"
"Yea," said Sir Lancear, "it is for that I have pursued thee."
"Peradventure," answered Balin, "thou hadst best have stayed at home,
for many a man who thinketh himself already victor, endeth by his own
downfall. Of what court art thou?"
"Of King Arthur's court," cried Lancear, "and I am come to revenge the
insult thou hast put on it this day."
"Well," said Sir Balin, "I see that I must fight thee, and I repent to
be obliged to grieve King Arthur or his knights; and thy quarrel seemeth
full foolish to me, for the damsel that is dead worked endless evils
through the land, or else I had been loth as any knight that liveth to
have slain a lady."
"Make thee ready," shouted Lancear, "for one of us shall rest forever in
this field."
But at their first encounter Sir Lancear's spear flew into splinters
from Sir Balin's shield, and Sir Balin's lance pierced with such might
through Sir Lancear's shield, that it rove the hauberk also, and passed
through the knight's body and the horse's crupper. And Sir Balin turning
fiercely round again, drew out his sword, and knew not that he had
already slain him; and then he saw him lie a corpse upon the ground.
At that same moment came a damsel riding towards him as fast as her
horse could gallop, who, when she saw Sir Lancear dead, wept and
sorrowed out of measure, crying, "O, Sir Balin, two bodies hast thou
slain, and one heart; and two hearts in one body; and two souls also
hast thou lost."
Therewith she took the sword from her dead lover's side--for she was Sir
Lancear's lady-love--and setting the pommel of it on the ground, ran
herself through the body with the blade.
When Sir Balin saw her dead he was sorely hurt and grieved in spirit,
and repented the death of Lancear, which had also caused so fair a
lady's death. And being unable to look on their bodies for sorrow, he
turned aside into a forest, where presently as he rode, he saw the arms
of his brother, Sir Balan. And when they were met they put off their
helms, and embraced each other, kissing, and weeping for joy and pity.
Then Sir Balin told Sir Balan all his late adventures, and that he was
on his way to King Ryence, who at that time was besieging Castle
Terrabil. "I will be with thee," answered Sir Balan, "and we will help
each other, as brethren ought to do."
Anon by chance, as they were talking, came King Mark, of Cornwall, by
that way, and when he saw the two dead bodies of Sir Lancear and his
lady lying there, and heard the story of their death, he vowed to build
a tomb to them before he left that place. So pitching his pavilion
there, he sought through all the country round to find a monument, and
found at last a rich and fair one in a church, which he took and raised
above the dead knight and his damsel, writing on it--"Here lieth
Lancear, son of the King of Ireland, who, at his own request, was slain
by Balin; and here beside him also lieth his lady Colombe, who slew
herself with her lover's sword for grief and sorrow."
Then as Sir Balin and Sir Balan rode away, Merlin met with them, and
said to Balin, "Thou hast done thyself great harm not to have saved that
lady's life who slew herself; and because of it, thou shalt strike the
most Dolorous Stroke that ever man struck, save he that smote our Lord.
For thou shalt smite the truest and most worshipful of living knights,
who shall not be recovered from his wounds for many years, and through
that stroke three kingdoms shall be overwhelmed in poverty and misery."
"If I believed," said Balin, "what thou sayest, I would slay myself to
make thee a liar."
At that Merlin vanished suddenly away; but afterwards he met them in
disguise towards night, and told them he could lead them to King
Ryence, whom they sought. "For this night he is to ride with sixty
lances only through a wood hard by."
So Sir Balin and Sir Balan hid themselves within the wood, and at
midnight came out from their ambush among the leaves by the highway, and
waited for the king, whom presently they heard approaching with his
company. Then did they suddenly leap forth and smote at him and
overthrew him and laid him on the ground, and turning on his company
wounded and slew forty of them, and put the rest to flight. And
returning to King Ryence they would have slain him there, but he craved
mercy, and yielded to their grace, crying, "Knights full of prowess,
slay me not; for by my life ye may win something--but my death can avail
ye nought."
"Ye say truth," said the two knights, and put him in a horse-litter, and
went swiftly through all the night, till at cock-crow they came to King
Arthur's palace. There they delivered him to the warders and porters, to
be brought before the king, with this message--"That he was sent to King
Arthur by the knight of the two swords" (for so was Balin known by name,
since his adventure with the damsel) "and by his brother." And so they
rode away again ere sunrise.
Within a month or two thereafter, King Arthur being somewhat sick, went
forth outside the town, and had his pavilion pitched in a meadow, and
there abode, and laid him down on a pallet to sleep, but could get no
rest. And as he lay he heard the sound of a great horse, and looking
out of the tent door, saw a knight ride by, making great lamentation.
"Abide, fair sir," said King Arthur, "and tell me wherefore thou makest
this sorrow."
"Ye may little amend it," said the knight, and so passed on.
Presently after Sir Balin, rode, by chance, past that meadow, and when
he saw the king he alighted and came to him on foot, and kneeled and
saluted him.
"By my head," said King Arthur, "ye be welcome, Sir Balin;" and then he
thanked him heartily for revenging him upon King Ryence, and for sending
him so speedily a prisoner to his castle, and told him how King Nero,
Ryence's brother, had attacked him afterwards to deliver Ryence from
prison; and how he had defeated him and slain him, and also King Lot, of
Orkney, who was joined with Nero, and whom King Pellinore had killed in
the battle. Then when they had thus talked, King Arthur told Sir Balin
of the sullen knight that had just passed his tent, and desired him to
pursue him and to bring him back.
So Sir Balin rode and overtook the knight in a forest with a damsel, and
said, "Sir knight, thou must come back with me unto my lord, King
Arthur, to tell him the cause of thy sorrow, which thou hast refused
even now to do."
"That will I not," replied the knight, "for it would harm me much, and
do him no advantage."
"Sir," said Sir Balin, "I pray thee make ready, for thou must needs go
with me--or else I must fight with thee and take thee by force."
"Wilt thou be warrant for safe conduct, if I go with thee?" inquired the
knight.
"Yea, surely," answered Balin, "I will die else."
So the knight made ready to go with Sir Balin, and left the damsel in
the wood.
But as they went, there came one invisible, and smote the knight through
the body with a spear. "Alas," cried Sir Herleus (for so was he named),
"I am slain under thy guard and conduct, by that traitor knight called
Garlon, who through magic and witchcraft rideth invisibly. Take,
therefore, my horse, which is better than thine, and ride to the damsel
whom we left, and follow the quest I had in hand, as she will lead
thee--and revenge my death when thou best mayest."
"That will I do," said Sir Balin, "by my knighthood, and so I swear to
thee."
Then went Sir Balin to the damsel, and rode forth with her; she carrying
ever with her the truncheon of the spear wherewith Sir Herleus had been
slain. And as they went, a good knight, Perin de Mountbelgard, joined
their company, and vowed to take adventure with them wheresoever they
might go. But presently as they passed a hermitage fast by a churchyard,
came the knight Garlon, again invisible, and smote Sir Perin through the
body with a spear, and slew him as he had slain Sir Herleus. Whereat,
Sir Balin greatly raged, and swore to have Sir Garlon's life, whenever
next he might encounter and behold him in his bodily shape. Anon, he
and the hermit buried the good knight Sir Perin, and rode on with the
damsel till they came to a great castle, whereinto they were about to
enter. But when Sir Balin had passed through the gateway, the portcullis
fell behind him suddenly, leaving the damsel on the outer side, with men
around her, drawing their swords as if to slay her.
When he saw that, Sir Balin climbed with eager haste by wall and tower,
and leaped into the castle moat, and rushed towards the damsel and her
enemies, with his sword drawn, to fight and slay them. But they cried
out, "Put up thy sword, Sir knight, we will not fight thee in this
quarrel, for we do nothing but an ancient custom of this castle."
Then they told him that the lady of the castle was passing sick, and had
lain ill for many years, and might never more be cured, unless she had a
silver dish full of the blood of a pure maid and a king's daughter.
Wherefore the custom of the castle was, that never should a damsel pass
that way but she must give a dish full of her blood. Then Sir Balin
suffered them to bleed the damsel with her own consent, but her blood
helped not the lady of the castle. So on the morrow they departed, after
right good cheer and rest.
Then they rode three or four days without adventure, and came at last to
the abode of a rich man, who sumptuously lodged and fed them. And while
they sat at supper Sir Balin heard a voice of some one groaning
grievously. "What noise is this?" said he.
"Forsooth," said the host, "I will tell you. I was lately at a
tournament, and there I fought a knight who is brother to King Pelles,
and overthrew him twice, for which he swore to be revenged on me through
my best friend, and so he wounded my son, who cannot be recovered till I
have that knight's blood, but he rideth through witchcraft always
invisibly, and I know not his name."
"Ah," said Sir Balin, "but I know him; his name is Garlon, and he hath
slain two knights, companions of mine own, in the same fashion, and I
would rather than all the riches in this realm that I might meet him
face to face."
"Well," said his host, "let me now tell thee that King Pelles hath
proclaimed in all the country a great festival, to be held at Listeniss,
in twenty days from now, whereto no knight may come without a lady. At
that great feast we might perchance find out this Garlon, for many will
be there; and if it please thee we will set forth together."
So on the morrow they rode all three towards Listeniss, and traveled
fifteen days, and reached it on the day the feast began. Then they
alighted and stabled their horses, and went up to the castle, and Sir
Balin's host was denied entrance, having no lady with him. But Sir Balin
was right heartily received, and taken to a chamber, where they unarmed
him, and dressed him in rich robes, of any color that he chose, and told
him he must lay aside his sword. This, however, he refused, and said,
"It is the custom of my country for a knight to keep his sword ever with
him; and if I may not keep it here, I will forthwith depart." Then they
gave him leave to wear his sword. So he went to the great hall, and was
set among knights of rank and worship, and his lady before him.
Soon he found means to ask one who sat near him, "Is there not here a
knight whose name is Garlon?"
"Yonder he goeth," said his neighbor, "he with that black face; he is
the most marvelous knight alive, for he rideth invisibly, and destroyeth
whom he will."
"Ah, well," said Balin, drawing a long breath, "is that indeed the man?
I have aforetime heard of him."
Then he mused long within himself, and thought, "If I shall slay him
here and now, I shall not escape myself; but if I leave him,
peradventure I shall never meet with him again at such advantage; and if
he live, how much more harm and mischief will he do!"
But while he deeply thought, and cast his eyes from time to time upon
Sir Garlon, that false knight saw that he watched him, and thinking that
he could at such a time escape revenge, he came and smote Sir Balin on
the face with the back of his hand, and said, "Knight, why dost thou so
watch me? be ashamed, and eat thy meat, and do that which thou camest
for."
"Thou sayest well," cried Sir Balin, rising fiercely; "now will I
straightway do that which I came to do, as thou shalt find." With that
he whirled his sword aloft and struck him downright on the head, and
clove his skull asunder to the shoulder.
"Give me the truncheon," cried out Sir Balin to his lady, "wherewith he
slew thy knight." And when she gave it him--for she had always carried
it about with her, wherever she had gone--he smote him through the body
with it, and said, "With that truncheon didst thou treacherously murder
a good knight, and now it sticketh in thy felon body."
Then he called to the father of the wounded son, who had come with him
to Listeniss, and said, "Now take as much blood as thou wilt, to heal
thy son withal."