Orkney, whom King Pellinore slew--and my mother, Belisent, is
half-sister to the king."
When the lady heard that, she went and presently got leave for him to
quit the castle; and they gave him the head of the white hart to take
with him, because it was in his quest; but made him also carry the dead
lady with him--her head hung round his neck and her body lay before him
on his horse's neck.
So in that fashion he rode back to Camelot; and when the king and queen
saw him, and heard tell of his adventures, they were heavily displeased,
and, by order of the queen, he was put upon his trial before a court of
ladies--who judged him to be evermore, for all his life, the knight of
ladies' quarrels, and to fight always on their side, and never against
any, except he fought for one lady and his adversary for another; also
they charged him never to refuse mercy to him that asked it, and swore
him to it on the Holy Gospels. Thus ended the adventure of the white
hart.
Meanwhile, Sir Tor had made him ready, and followed the knight who rode
away with the hound. And as he went, there suddenly met him in the road
a dwarf, who struck his horse so viciously upon the head with a great
staff, that he leaped backwards a spear's length.
"Wherefore so smitest thou my horse, foul dwarf?" shouted Sir Tor.
"Because thou shalt not pass this way," replied the dwarf, "unless thou
fight for it with yonder knights in those pavilions," pointing to two
tents, where two great spears stood out, and two shields hung upon two
trees hard by.
"I may not tarry, for I am on a quest I needs must follow," said Sir
Tor.
"Thou shalt not pass," replied the dwarf, and therewith blew his horn.
Then rode out quickly at Sir Tor one armed on horseback, but Sir Tor was
quick as he, and riding at him bore him from his horse, and made him
yield. Directly after came another still more fiercely, but with a few
great strokes and buffets Sir Tor unhorsed him also, and sent them both
to Camelot to King Arthur. Then came the dwarf and begged Sir Tor to
take him in his service, "for," said he, "I will serve no more recreant
knights."
"Take then a horse, and come with me," said Tor.
"Ride ye after the knight with the white hound?" said the dwarf; "I can
soon bring ye where he is."
So they rode through the forest till they came to two more tents. And
Sir Tor alighting, went into the first, and saw three damsels lie there,
sleeping. Then went he to the other, and found another lady also
sleeping, and at her feet the white hound he sought for, which instantly
began to bay and bark so loudly, that the lady woke. But Sir Tor had
seized the hound and given it to the dwarf's charge.
"What will ye do, Sir knight?" cried out the lady; "will ye take away my
hound from me by force?"
"Yea, lady," said Sir Tor; "for so I must, having the king's command;
and I have followed it from King Arthur's court, at Camelot, to this
place."
"Well," said the lady, "ye will not go far before ye be ill handled, and
will repent ye of the quest."
"I shall cheerfully abide whatsoever adventure cometh, by the grace of
God," said Sir Tor; and so mounted his horse and began to ride back on
his way. But night coming on, he turned aside to a hermitage that was in
the forest, and there abode till the next day, making but sorrowful
cheer of such poor food as the hermit had to give him, and hearing a
Mass devoutly before he left on the morrow.
And in the early morning, as he rode forth with the dwarf towards
Camelot, he heard a knight call loudly after him, "Turn, turn! Abide,
Sir knight, and yield me up the hound thou tookest from my lady." At
which he turned, and saw a great and strong knight, armed full
splendidly, riding down upon him fiercely through a glade of the forest.
Now Sir Tor was very ill provided, for he had but an old courser, which
was as weak as himself, because of the hermit's scanty fare. He waited,
nevertheless, for the strange knight to come, and at the first onset
with their spears, each unhorsed the other, and then fell to with their
swords like two mad lions. Then did they smite through one another's
shields and helmets till the fragments flew on all sides, and their
blood ran out in streams; but yet they carved and rove through the thick
armor of the hauberks, and gave each other great and ghastly wounds. But
in the end, Sir Tor, finding the strange knight faint, doubled his
strokes until he beat him to the earth. Then did he bid him yield to his
mercy.
"That will I not," replied Abellius, "while my life lasteth and my soul
is in my body, unless thou give me first the hound."
"I cannot," said Sir Tor, "and will not, for it was my quest to bring
again that hound and thee unto King Arthur, or otherwise to slay thee."
With that there came a damsel riding on a palfrey, as fast as she could
drive, and cried out to Sir Tor with a loud voice, "I pray thee, for
King Arthur's love, give me a gift."
"Ask," said Sir Tor, "and I will give thee."
"Gramercy," said the lady, "I ask the head of this false knight
Abellius, the most outrageous murderer that liveth."
"I repent me of the gift I promised," said Sir Tor. "Let him make thee
amends for all his trespasses against thee."
"He cannot make amends," replied the damsel, "for he hath slain my
brother, a far better knight than he, and scorned to give him mercy,
though I kneeled for half an hour before him in the mire, to beg it, and
though it was but by a chance they fought, and for no former injury or
quarrel. I require my gift of thee as a true knight, or else will I
shame thee in King Arthur's court; for this Abellius is the falsest
knight alive, and a murderer of many."
When Abellius heard this, he trembled greatly, and was sore afraid, and
yielded to Sir Tor, and prayed his mercy.
"I cannot now, Sir knight," said he, "lest I be false to my promise. Ye
would not take my mercy when I offered it; and now it is too late."
Therewith he unlaced his helmet, and took it off; but Abellius, in
dismal fear, struggled to his feet, and fled, until Sir Tor overtook
him, and smote off his head entirely with one blow.
"Now, sir," said the damsel, "it is near night, I pray ye come and lodge
at my castle hard by."
"I will, with a good will," said he, for both his horse and he had fared
but poorly since they left Camelot.
So he went to the lady's castle and fared sumptuously, and saw her
husband, an old knight, who greatly thanked him for his service, and
urged him oftentimes to come again.
On the morrow he departed, and reached Camelot by noon, where the king
and queen rejoiced to see him, and the king made him Earl; and Merlin
prophesied that these adventures were but little to the things he should
achieve hereafter.
Now while Sir Gawain and Sir Tor had fulfilled their quests, King
Pellinore pursued the lady whom the knight had seized away from the
wedding-feast. And as he rode through the woods, he saw in a valley a
fair young damsel sitting by a well-side, and a wounded knight lying in
her arms, and King Pellinore saluted her as he passed by.
As soon as she perceived him she cried out, "Help, help me, knight, for
our Lord's sake!" But Pellinore was far too eager in his quest to stay
or turn, although she cried a hundred times to him for help; at which
she prayed to heaven he might have such sore need before he died as she
had now. And presently thereafter her knight died in her arms; and she,
for grief and love, slew herself with his sword.
But King Pellinore rode on till he met a poor man, and asked him had he
seen a knight pass by that way, leading by force a lady with him.
"Yea, surely," said the man, "and greatly did she moan and cry; but even
now another knight is fighting with him to deliver the lady; ride on and
thou shalt find them fighting still."
At that King Pellinore rode swiftly on, and came to where he saw the two
knights fighting, hard by where two pavilions stood. And when he looked
in one of them, he saw the lady that was his quest, and with her the two
squires of the two knights who fought.
"Fair lady," said he, "ye must come with me unto King Arthur's court."
"Sir knight," said the two squires, "yonder be two knights fighting for
this lady; go part them, and get their consent to take her, ere thou
touch her."
"Ye say well," said King Pellinore, and rode between the combatants, and
asked them why they fought.
"Sir knight," said the one, "yon lady is my cousin, mine aunt's
daughter, whom I met borne away against her will, by this knight here,
with whom I therefore fight to free her."
"Sir knight," replied the other, whose name was Hantzlake of Wentland,
"this lady got I, by my arms and prowess, at King Arthur's court
to-day."
"That is false," said King Pellinore; "ye stole the lady suddenly, and
fled away with her, before any knight could arm to stay thee. But it is
my service to take her back again. Neither of ye shall therefore have
her; but if ye will fight for her, fight with me now and here."
"Well," said the knights, "make ready, and we will assail thee with all
our might."
Then Sir Hantzlake ran King Pellinore's horse through with his sword, so
that they might be all alike on foot. But King Pellinore at that was
passing wroth, and ran upon Sir Hantzlake, with a cry, "Keep well thy
head!" and gave him such a stroke upon the helm as clove him to the
chin, so that he fell dead to the ground. When he saw that, the other
knight refused to fight, and kneeling down said, "Take my cousin the
lady with thee, as thy quest is; but as thou art a true knight, suffer
her to come to neither shame nor harm."
So the next day King Pellinore departed for Camelot, and took the lady
with him; and as they rode in a valley full of rough stones, the
damsel's horse stumbled and threw her, so that her arms were sorely
bruised and hurt. And as they rested in the forest for the pain to
lessen, night came on, and there they were compelled to make their
lodging. A little before midnight they heard the trotting of a horse.
"Be ye still," said King Pellinore, "for now we may hear of some
adventure," and therewith he armed her. Then he heard two knights meet
and salute each other, in the dark; one riding from Camelot, the other
from the north.
"What tidings at Camelot?" said one.
"By my head," said the other, "I have but just left there, and have
espied King Arthur's court, and such a fellowship is there as never may
be broke or overcome; for wellnigh all the chivalry of the world is
there, and all full loyal to the king, and now I ride back homewards to
the north to tell our chiefs, that they waste not their strength in wars
against him."
"As for all that," replied the other knight, "I am but now from the
north, and bear with me a remedy, the deadliest poison that ever was
heard tell of, and to Camelot will I with it; for there we have a friend
close to the king, and greatly cherished of him, who hath received gifts
from us to poison him, as he hath promised soon to do."
"Beware," said the first knight, "of Merlin, for he knoweth all things,
by the devil's craft."
"I will not fear for that," replied the other, and so rode on his way.
Anon King Pellinore and the lady passed on again; and when they came to
the well at which the lady with the wounded knight had sat, they found
both knight and damsel utterly devoured by lions and wild beasts, all
save the lady's head.
When King Pellinore saw that, he wept bitterly, saying, "Alas! I might
have saved her life had I but tarried a few moments in my quest."
"Wherefore make so much sorrow now?" said the lady.
"I know not," answered he, "but my heart grieveth greatly for this poor
lady's death, so fair she was and young."
Then he required a hermit to bury the remains of the bodies, and bare
the lady's head with him to Camelot, to the court.
When he was arrived, he was sworn to tell the truth of his quest before
the King and Queen, and when he had entered the Queen somewhat upbraided
him, saying, "Ye were much to blame that ye saved not that lady's life."
"Madam," said he, "I shall repent it all my life."
"Ay, king," quoth Merlin, who suddenly came in, "and so ye ought to do,
for that lady was your daughter, not seen since infancy by thee. And she
was on her way to court, with a right good young knight, who would have
been her husband, but was slain by treachery of a felon knight, Lorraine
le Savage, as they came; and because thou wouldst not abide and help
her, thy best friend shall fail thee in thine hour of greatest need, for
such is the penance ordained thee for that deed."
Then did King Pellinore tell Merlin secretly of the treason he had heard
in the forest, and Merlin by his craft so ordered that the knight who
bare the poison was himself soon after slain by it, and so King Arthur's
life was saved.
VII
THE ADVENTURE OF ARTHUR AND SIR ACCOLON OF GAUL
Being now happily married, King Arthur for a season took his pleasure,
with great tournaments, and jousts, and huntings. So once upon a time
the king and many of his knights rode hunting in a forest, and Arthur,
King Urience, and Sir Accolon of Gaul, followed after a great hart, and
being all three well mounted, they chased so fast that they outsped
their company, and left them many miles behind; but riding still as
rapidly as they could go, at length their horses fell dead under them.
Then being all three on foot, and seeing the stag not far before them,
very weary and nigh spent--"What shall we do," said King Arthur, "for we
are hard bested?" "Let us go on afoot," said King Urience, "till we can
find some lodging." At that they saw the stag lying upon the bank of a
great lake, with a hound springing at his throat, and many other hounds
trooping towards him. So, running forward, Arthur blew the death-note on
his horn, and slew the hart. Then lifting up his eyes he saw before him
on the lake a barge, all draped down to the water's edge, with silken
folds and curtains, which swiftly came towards him, and touched upon
the sands; but when he went up close and looked in, he saw no earthly
creature. Then he cried out to his companions, "Sirs, come ye hither,
and let us see what there is in this ship." So they all three went in,
and found it everywhere throughout furnished, and hung with rich
draperies of silk and gold.
By this time eventide had come, when suddenly a hundred torches were set
up on all sides of the barge, and gave a dazzling light, and at the same
time came forth twelve fair damsels, and saluted King Arthur by his
name, kneeling on their knees, and telling him that he was welcome, and
should have their noblest cheer, for which the king thanked them
courteously. Then did they lead him and his fellows to a splendid
chamber, where was a table spread with all the richest furniture, and
costliest wines and viands; and there they served them with all kinds of
wines and meats, till Arthur wondered at the splendor of the feast,
declaring he had never in his life supped better, or more royally. After
supper they led him to another chamber, than which he had never beheld a
richer, where he was left to rest. King Urience, also, and Sir Accolon
were each conducted into rooms of like magnificence. And so they all
three fell asleep, and being very weary slept deeply all that night.
But when the morning broke, King Urience found himself in his own house
in Camelot, he knew not how; and Arthur awaking found himself in a dark
dungeon, and heard around him nothing but the groans of woeful knights,
prisoners like himself. Then said King Arthur, "Who are ye, thus
groaning and complaining?" And some one answered him, "Alas, we be all
prisoners, even twenty good knights, and some of us have lain here seven
years--some more--nor seen the light of day for all that time." "For
what cause?" said King Arthur. "Know ye not then yourself?" they
answered--"we will soon tell you. The lord of this strong castle is Sir
Damas, and is the falsest and most traitorous knight that liveth; and he
hath a younger brother, a good and noble knight, whose name is Outzlake.
This traitor Damas, although passing rich, will give his brother nothing
of his wealth, and save what Outzlake keepeth to himself by force, he
hath no share of the inheritance. He owneth, nevertheless, one fair rich
manor, whereupon he liveth, loved of all men far and near. But Damas is
as altogether hated as his brother is beloved, for he is merciless and
cowardly: and now for many years there hath been war between these
brothers, and Sir Outzlake evermore defieth Damas to come forth and
fight with him, body to body, for the inheritance; and if he be too
cowardly, to find some champion knight that will fight for him. And
Damas hath agreed to find some champion, but never yet hath found a
knight to take his evil cause in hand, or wager battle for him. So with
a strong band of men-at-arms he lieth ever in ambush, and taketh captive
every passing knight who may unwarily go near and bringeth him into this
castle, and desireth him either to fight Sir Outzlake, or to lie for
evermore indurance. And thus hath he dealt with all of us, for we all
scorned to take up such a cause for such a false foul knight--but rather
one by one came here, where many a good knight hath died of hunger and
disease. But if one of us would fight, Sir Damas would deliver all the
rest."
"God of his mercy send you deliverance," said King Arthur, and sat
turning in his mind how all these things should end, and how he might
himself gain freedom for so many noble hearts.
Anon there came a damsel to the king, saying, "Sir, if thou wilt fight
for my lord thou shalt be delivered out of prison, but else nevermore
shalt thou escape with thy life." "Nay," said King Arthur, "that is but
a hard choice, yet had I rather fight than die in prison, and if I may
deliver not myself alone, but all these others, I will do the battle."
"Yea," said the damsel, "it shall be even so." "Then," said King Arthur,
"I am ready now, if but I had a horse and armor." "Fear not," said she,
"that shalt thou have presently, and shalt lack nothing proper for the
fight." "Have I not seen thee," said the king, "at King Arthur's court?
for it seemeth that thy face is known to me." "Nay," said the damsel, "I
was never there; I am Sir Damas' daughter, and have never been but a
day's journey from this castle." But she spoke falsely, for she was one
of the damsels of Morgan le Fay, the great enchantress, who was King
Arthur's half-sister.
When Sir Damas knew that there had been at length a knight found who
would fight for him, he sent for Arthur, and finding him a man so tall
and strong, and straight of limb, he was passingly well pleased, and
made a covenant with him, that he should fight unto the uttermost for
his cause, and that all the other knights should be delivered. And when
they were sworn to each other on the Holy Gospels, all those imprisoned
knights were straightway led forth and delivered, but abode there one
and all to see the battle.
In the meanwhile there had happened to Sir Accolon of Gaul a strange
adventure; for when he awoke from his deep sleep upon the silken barge,
he found himself upon the edge of a deep well, and in instant peril of
falling thereinto. Whereat, leaping up in great affright, he crossed
himself and cried aloud, "May God preserve my lord King Arthur and King
Urience, for those damsels in the ship have betrayed us, and were
doubtless devils and no women; and if I may escape this misadventure, I
will certainly destroy them wheresoever I may find them." With that
there came to him a dwarf with a great mouth, and a flat nose, and
saluted him, saying that he came from Queen Morgan le Fay. "And she
greeteth you well," said he, "and biddeth you be strong of heart, for
to-morrow you shall do battle with a strange knight, and therefore she
hath sent you here Excalibur, King Arthur's sword, and the scabbard
likewise. And she desireth you as you do love her to fight this battle
to the uttermost, and without any mercy, as you have promised her you
would fight when she should require it of you; and she will make a rich
queen forever of any damsel that shall bring her that knight's head
with whom you are to fight."
"Well," said Sir Accolon, "tell you my lady Queen Morgan, that I shall
hold to that I promised her, now that I have this sword--and," said he,
"I suppose it was to bring about this battle that she made all these
enchantments by her craft." "You have guessed rightly," said the dwarf,
and therewithal he left him.
Then came a knight and lady, and six squires, to Sir Accolon, and took
him to a manor house hard by, and gave him noble cheer; and the house
belonged to Sir Outzlake, the brother of Sir Damas, for so had Morgan le
Fay contrived with her enchantments. Now Sir Outzlake himself was at
that time sorely wounded and disabled, having been pierced through both
his thighs by a spear-thrust. When, therefore, Sir Damas sent down
messengers to his brother, bidding him make ready by to-morrow morning,
and be in the field to fight with a good knight, for that he had found a
champion ready to do battle at all points, Sir Outzlake was sorely
annoyed and distressed, for he knew he had small chance of victory,
while yet he was disabled by his wounds; notwithstanding, he determined
to take the battle in hand, although he was so weak that he must needs
be lifted to his saddle. But when Sir Accolon of Gaul heard this, he
sent a message to Sir Outzlake offering to take the battle in his stead,
which cheered Sir Outzlake mightily, who thanked Sir Accolon with all
his heart, and joyfully accepted him.
So, on the morrow, King Arthur was armed and well horsed, and asked Sir
Damas, "When shall we go to the field?" "Sir," said Sir Damas, "you
shall first hear mass." And when mass was done, there came a squire on a
great horse, and asked Sir Damas if his knight were ready, "for our
knight is already in the field." Then King Arthur mounted on horseback,
and there around were all the knights, and barons, and people of the
country; and twelve of them were chosen to wait upon the two knights who
were about to fight. And as King Arthur sat on horseback, there came a
damsel from Morgan le Fay, and brought to him a sword, made like
Excalibur, and a scabbard also, and said to him, "Morgan le Fay sendeth
you here your sword for her great love's sake." And the king thanked
her, and believed it to be as she said; but she traitorously deceived
him, for both sword and scabbard were counterfeit, brittle, and false,
and the true sword Excalibur was in the hands of Sir Accolon. Then, at
the sound of a trumpet, the champions set themselves on opposite side of
the field, and giving rein and spur to their horses urged them to so
great a speed that each smiting the other in the middle of the shield,
rolled his opponent to the ground, both horse and man. Then starting up
immediately, both drew their swords and rushed swiftly together. And so
they fell to eagerly, and gave each other many great and mighty strokes.
And as they were thus fighting, the damsel Vivien, lady of the lake, who
loved King Arthur, came upon the ground, for she knew by her
enchantments how Morgan le Fay had craftily devised to have King Arthur
slain by his own sword that day, and therefore came to save his life.
And Arthur and Sir Accolon were now grown hot against each other, and
spared not strength nor fury in their fierce assaults; but the king's
sword gave way continually before Sir Accolon's, so that at every stroke
he was sore wounded, and his blood ran from him so fast that it was a
marvel he could stand. When King Arthur saw the ground so sore
be-blooded, he bethought him in dismay that there was magic treason
worked upon him, and that his own true sword was changed, for it seemed
to him that the sword in Sir Accolon's hand was Excalibur, for fearfully
it drew his blood at every blow, while what he held himself kept no
sharp edge, nor fell with any force upon his foe.