The Madness of Sir Launcelot
_Here follows the story of how Sir Launcelot went mad from grief and of
how he roamed the woods as a wild man of the woods. Also many other
adventures that befell him are herein told, wherefore I hope that you
may have pleasure in reading that which is here written for your
entertainment._
[Illustration: The Madman of the Forest who was Sir Launcelot:]
[Illustration]
Chapter First
_How Sir Launcelot became a madman of the forest and how he was brought
to the castle of Sir Blyant._
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot driveth through the forest._]
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot falleth in a fit._]
Now when Sir Launcelot had quitted the presence of Queen Guinevere as
aforetold, and having leaped to horse as aforetold, he rode very
furiously away, he wist not whither and cared not. And he raced like a
whirlwind, striving, as it were, to escape from himself and his own
despair. Thus he drove onward until he reached the shades of the forest,
and he rode through the forest, rending the branches with his body,
until his horse was all a lather of sweat. So he pursued his way till
night descended upon him, and still he drove ever forward, he knew not
whitherward. And he travelled in that wise all that night until about
the dawning of the day, what time he came to that part of the woodland
where was the hut of the hermit of the forest, and there he beheld the
chapel and the cell of the hermit. Here Sir Launcelot leaped down from
his horse, and he burst very violently into the dwelling-place of that
good man so that the hermit was amazed at his coming. And Sir Launcelot
cried out in a loud and violent voice, "God save you!" and therewith he
fell forward and lay with his face upon the floor.
Then the hermit ran to him and he lifted up his head and looked in his
face and he beheld that Sir Launcelot was in a fit.
So the hermit eased Sir Launcelot of his armor and he loosed the jerkin
and the shirt at his throat so that his throat was bare. And he lifted
Sir Launcelot and brought him to his own cot and he laid him down
thereon and there Sir Launcelot lay for the entire day.
But toward the sloping of the afternoon the sick man opened his eyes and
he aroused and sat up and gazed about him, and he said, "Where am I?"
The hermit said, "Thou art with me," and he further said, "What aileth
thee, Sir Launcelot?"
But to this Sir Launcelot answered naught but ever looked about him as
though not knowing who he was or where he was; for he was like to one
who is bedazed by a heavy blow he hath received. Then by and by Sir
Launcelot said, "I know not what it is that hath happened." Thus he
spake because his brains were bewildered by the passion through which he
had passed, for even at that time the madness which afterward gat hold
of him had begun to ferment in his brains so that he wist not very well
what he said or did.
Then the hermit knew that some great trouble had befallen Sir Launcelot,
and he thought that maybe if Sir Launcelot would eat he would perhaps be
refreshed and might maybe recover his mind once more. So the good man
said, "Messire, will you not eat?" and Sir Launcelot said, "Yea, give me
to eat."
[Sidenote: _The hermit cherisheth Sir Launcelot._]
So the hermit brought bread and milk and honey and fruit and he set
those things before Sir Launcelot. And Sir Launcelot fell upon those
things and ate of them very fiercely and voraciously, devouring them
more like a savage than a worshipful and worthy knight.
Then after Sir Launcelot had thus eaten he said, "I am aweary," and
therewith he arose and ungirded his armor, and laid it aside, piece by
piece, even to the very last piece thereof. Then when he was thus eased
of his armor, he flung himself down in his jerkin and hose upon the
hermit's pallet and therewith in a moment had fallen into a slumber so
deep that it was like the sleep of death. And as he slept thus the
hermit sat beside the pallet whereon Sir Launcelot lay. And he gazed
very steadfastly upon Sir Launcelot, and was greatly grieved to see him
in that condition.
Now it happened that about the middle of the night the hermit fell
asleep where he sat and shortly after that Sir Launcelot awoke and was
aware how the old man slept. And Sir Launcelot took of a sudden a great
fear of the hermit he wist not wherefore, so that the only thought in
his mind was to escape from the hermit. Wherefore he arose and went very
softly and in his bare feet out from that place, doing this so silently
that he did not awaken the hermit from his sleep.
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot escapeth from the hermitage._]
Thus Sir Launcelot came outside the hermit's hut, and after he had thus
escaped therefrom, he took of a sudden great fear lest the hermit should
awake and pursue him for to bring him back to the hut again. So
straightway he turned him and sped away into the forest with great
speed, like as though he were a wild animal pursued by the hunter. And
he fled away for all the rest of that night. And when the dawn had come
he ceased to fly and he crouched down and hid himself in the thickets of
the forest. For in his madness he was ever pursued by the fear that the
hermit would follow him and that he was even then hunting for him for to
bring him back to the hut again.
Thus it was that Sir Launcelot escaped from the hut of the hermit, and
after that he abided in the forest for a long while. What time he
gathered the wild fruit of the forest for his food. And he drank of the
forest fountains and that was all the food and drink that he had. And
after a while the clothes of Sir Launcelot were all torn into shreds by
the thorns and briars, and his hair grew down into his eyes and his
beard grew down upon his breast so that he became in all appearance a
wild man of the forest, all naked, and shaggy, and gaunt like to a
hungry wolf.
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot becometh the forest madman._]
And now and again it chanced that some one who travelled in the forest
would see him as he ran through the thickets of the woodland like to a
wild creature, and hence it was that much talk of that wild man of the
forest went about the countryside, and folk were afraid of all that part
of the woodlands because of him.
Now one pleasant morning in the autumn season when the early frosts were
come, and when all the trees had taken on their clothing of crimson and
russet and gold, Sir Launcelot, in his mad wanderings, came to the edge
of the woodland and there before him he beheld a little open plain all
yellow and bright in the broad beams of the shining sunlight. And Sir
Launcelot beheld that in the midst of that small plain was a fair
pavilion of blue silk. And he beheld that near by the pavilion there
were three horses tethered browsing upon the autumn grass. And he beheld
that a bright shield hung to a tree that grew near the pavilion, and
that a fair sword hung nigh the shield, and that a spear leaned against
the tree beside the shield and sword.
Then Sir Launcelot was pleased with the bright color of the pavilion and
something of knighthood awoke within him at the sight of the shield and
the sword and the spear, wherefore he desired to handle the sword and
the spear and to touch the shield.
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot beateth upon the shield of Sir Blyant._]
So Sir Launcelot went forward into that plain and he came to the tree
where were the sword and the shield and the spear. And he took the
pommel of the sword into his hand. Thereupon a great desire for battle
came upon him, and he straightway catched the pommel of the sword in
both his hands and he drew the blade forth from the sheath. And he
whirled the sword about his head and he smote the shield; and he smote
it again and again, striking great dents into it with the blade of the
sword; and the sound of those blows made such a din and uproar that it
was as though ten men were fighting in that place.
Therewith, at all that sudden din and uproar, there came running out of
that pavilion a misshapen dwarf very broad of shoulder and strong of
limb. And when that dwarf beheld a madman smiting the shield in that
wise, he ran at him with intent to take the sword away from him.
But Sir Launcelot beheld the dwarf coming in that wise, and straightway
he dropped the sword which he held, and he catched the dwarf by the
shoulders and he flung him so violently down upon the earth that the
neck of the dwarf was wellnigh broken by that fall.
Then the dwarf was overwhelmed with the terror of Sir Launcelot,
wherefore he did not dare to arise from the ground whereon he had
fallen, but lay there calling out for help in a loud voice of outcry.
Thereupon, there immediately came forth from out of the pavilion a noble
knight clad all in scarlet and wrapped in a scarlet cloak trimmed with
miniver. And that knight was Sir Blyant whose castle stood not more than
four or five leagues from that place. For at such pleasant season of the
year, Sir Blyant was wont to ride forth with his lady, and ever when he
chose he would have a pavilion set up in some such pleasant place as
this little glade. And sometimes Sir Blyant and his lady would lodge in
that pavilion over-night, as was the case at this time.
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant pitieth the madman._]
So Sir Blyant came forth out of the pavilion as aforesaid, and he beheld
the dwarf lying upon the ground. And he beheld that Sir Launcelot had
catched up the sword again, and that he stood above the dwarf, making
play with his sword as though there were many enemies thereabouts; and
Sir Blyant wist that he whom he beheld must be the Madman of the Forest
of whom folk talked so much. Then Sir Blyant pitied that madman a very
great deal, and he spake very mildly to him, saying: "Good man, put down
that sword, for meseems thou art in greater need of food and of warm
clothes and of nourishing and comforting than of playing with a sharp
sword in that wise."
But ever Sir Launcelot waved the sword this way and that, crying out in
a great loud voice, "Keep thou away or I will slay thee."
Then Sir Blyant perceived that there was great danger in having to do
unarmed with that madman, wherefore he called upon his dwarf to arise
and come to him, and therewith he withdrew into the pavilion with intent
to arm himself and so to take away that sword from Sir Launcelot by
force.
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant armeth himself._]
So the dwarf, who by that time had arisen from where he lay, went into
the pavilion to where Sir Blyant was, and he aided Sir Blyant to don his
armor, and so Sir Blyant armed himself from head to foot. When he was
thus armed he took sword in hand and went forth from out of the pavilion
prepared to deal with the madman in such wise as was necessary to take
that dangerous sword from him. For even if it must be that he had to
slay that madman, Sir Blyant wist that he must not leave him thus with a
sharp sword in his hand. So Sir Blyant came out of the pavilion armed at
all points.
But when Sir Launcelot beheld him coming forth thus armed as for battle,
the love of battle awoke to full life in his heart, wherefore he shouted
aloud. And he rushed at Sir Blyant and he struck Sir Blyant upon the
helm so fierce and terrible a buffet that nor guard nor armor could
withstand that stroke. And had the sword not turned a little in the
hands of Sir Launcelot that had been Sir Blyant's last day upon earth.
[Sidenote: _The madman overthroweth Sir Blyant._]
Natheless, the sword, though turned, fell with full force upon the crest
of Sir Blyant, and at that dreadful, terrible stroke the brains of Sir
Blyant flashed fire into his eyeballs. Then blackness came roaring upon
him and therewith he fell down in a deathly swoon, the blood running out
from his nose and ears from the force of that woeful stroke he had
suffered.
So when Sir Launcelot beheld Sir Blyant fall thus beneath the blow, he
shouted aloud for joy. And straightway with the naked sword in his hand
he ran into the pavilion with intent to find what other enemies there
might be in that place.
Now the lady of Sir Blyant was alone in that pavilion, so when she
beheld that half-naked madman rush therein with the shining sword in his
hand, and a terrible fierce look of madness upon his face, she shrieked
with terror and straightway ran forth from the tent upon the other side
thereof.
So Sir Launcelot stood and gazed all about him, waving his sword from
side to side, but could behold no enemies such as he might assault. And
then he saw where there was a fine soft couch spread with a covering of
flame-colored linen in that place, and therewith he ran to that bed and
leaped into it and straightway covered himself all over with the
coverlet.
[Sidenote: _The Lady is adread._]
When the lady of Sir Blyant ran in that wise out of the pavilion as
aforesaid, she beheld where her lord, Sir Blyant, lay stretched out upon
the ground, and she beheld the dwarf bending over him, removing the helm
from his head. And beholding that sight she shrieked more than ever and
ran frantically to where that stricken knight lay. Therewith, beholding
his face all white as milk and streaked with blood, she thought that he
had certes been killed by that madman, whereupon she flung herself down
upon his body, crying aloud in a most piercing voice, "My lord! My lord!
Assuredly thou art dead!"
"Not so, lady," said the dwarf, "he is not dead, but aswoon." And even
as the dwarf spoke, Sir Blyant sighed very deeply and opened his eyes.
And he said: "Where is that madman who struck me anon? Never in all my
life felt I such a buffet as that which he gave me." The dwarf said,
"Lord, that madman ran but now into the pavilion and drove your lady out
thence." "Go, Sirrah," said Sir Blyant, "and see what he is at in the
pavilion."
So the dwarf went very fearfully to the door of the pavilion and peeped
within, and he beheld where Sir Launcelot lay sleeping upon the couch.
Thereupon the dwarf returned to Sir Blyant and he said: "Sir, that
madman hath taken to your bed, and he lyeth there now very soundly
asleep as he were in a swoon." And then the dwarf said: "Give me leave
to take this sword and go thither and I will slay him where he lieth.
For only so may we hope to save ourselves from the madness of his
phrenzy when he shall awake."
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant looketh upon the madman._]
But Sir Blyant pitied the madman and he said: "Let be and harm him not,
for I misdoubt this madman is not what he seemeth to be." And he said,
"Help me to arise, for my head swimmeth." So the lady and the dwarf
helped Sir Blyant to his feet and in a little while he was able to stand
and to walk. And anon Sir Blyant went into the pavilion, and he went to
where Sir Launcelot lay and he stood and looked down upon him. And he
beheld that Sir Launcelot wore a rich ring upon his finger (and that was
the ring of magic which the Lady of the Lake had given him) and he
beheld that Sir Launcelot's body was covered with many scars of wounds
such as a knight might receive in battle. So seeing these things, Sir
Blyant said: "This is no common madman, but some great champion who has
fallen into misfortune, for I behold that he weareth a ring such as only
a knight of great credit might wear, and I behold that he beareth many
honorable scars of battle."
And Sir Blyant said to the dwarf: "Take thou thy horse and ride with all
speed to my castle. When thou art come there, bid my brother Sir
Selivant to make haste hither with several men. And bid him to fetch a
horse litter with him so that we may be able to bring this mad knight to
where he may have succor and where he may haply be cured of his
infirmities."
So the dwarf did as Sir Blyant commanded him; he took horse and rode
with all speed to the castle of Sir Blyant, and there he gave Sir
Blyant's word to Sir Selivant. And straightway Sir Selivant came to that
place with those men and a horse litter for to bring Sir Launcelot away;
and he reached that place within three hours after the messenger had
been sent to him.
[Sidenote: _They bear the madman thence._]
So Sir Selivant and Sir Blyant and those men lifted Sir Launcelot as he
lay in his bed, and they laid him on the litter and Sir Launcelot did
not awake. And they took him away from that place and still he did not
awake; for all that while he lay in a deep slumber that was like to a
swoon. Thus they brought him to the castle of Sir Blyant without his
ever arousing from that swoonlike sleep.
After that they fetched the barber of the castle and the barber trimmed
the hair and the beard of Sir Launcelot and they put fresh decent
clothes upon him, and all that time Sir Launcelot did not awake but lay
ever in that swoonlike sleep.
Now when they of that castle beheld Sir Launcelot as he lay after he had
been thus clothed and clipped; and when they beheld how noble and comely
was his appearance, they said, "Certes, this is indeed some noble and
haughty champion of high estate, though who he may be we know not."
So they all took great pity for Sir Launcelot, but yet they feared his
phrenzy when he should awake. So they sent for the smith of the castle,
and the smith fastened light strong chains of steel to the wrists of Sir
Launcelot and to his ankles; so that he might do no harm to any one.
[Sidenote: _The madman is made prisoner._]
So when Sir Launcelot awoke he was a prisoner in chains in the castle of
Sir Blyant. And Sir Launcelot remained dwelling in the castle of Sir
Blyant for a year and a half, and ever he remained bound with those
light strong chains of steel. For still his wits flitted and he wist not
where he was or who he was, wherefore they feared he might at any moment
break forth into a phrenzy.
But ever the folk of the castle treated Sir Launcelot with great
kindness and gentleness. And especially Sir Blyant was kind to him,
wherefore Sir Launcelot loved Sir Blyant as some dumb creature loveth
its master, and he would follow Sir Blyant about whithersoever he went.
Thus it was that Sir Launcelot went mad and thus he came to be chained
in the castle of Sir Blyant.
And now remaineth other adventures to be told that befell at this time.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Forest Madman saveth ye Life of King Arthur:]
[Illustration]
Chapter Second
_How Sir Launcelot saved the life of Sir Blyant. How he escaped from the
castle of Sir Blyant, and how he slew the great wild boar of Lystenesse
and saved the life of King Arthur, his liege lord._
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant rideth in the woodland._]
Now it happened upon a day that Sir Blyant rode in a little wood nigh to
his castle, and whilst he was thus alone he beheld two knights riding
side by side all in the clear bright springtime. As these drew nigh to
him Sir Blyant was aware from the devices upon their shields that one of
them was Sir Breuce sans Pitie and that the other was Sir Bertolet his
brother, which same, you are to know, were Sir Blyant's bitter enemies.
For in the tournament at Astolat Sir Blyant had very grievously hurt a
young knight who was their brother, and afterward that knight (whose
name was Sir Gelotius) had died of those hurts.
Yet though Sir Blyant wist that this meeting boded ill for him yet would
he not withdraw therefrom but went forward. So it came about that when
he was pretty close to those two knights, the foremost of them (who was
Sir Breuce sans Pitie) rode forth and bespoke him, saying, "Sir Knight,
who are you and whither go you?" Sir Blyant said: "Messires, I am a
knight of these marches, riding errant in search of adventure." Sir
Breuce said, "Art thou not Sir Blyant of the White Castle?" Sir Blyant
said, "Thou sayest it and I am he."
Then Sir Breuce sans Pitie spoke very savagely, saying: "Sir Knight,
this is well that we meet you here who are the slayer of our brother Sir
Gelotius at the tournament of Astolat." To this Sir Blyant said:
"Messires, what do you have against me for that? Certes, it is that I
overthrew Sir Gelotius and that he died thereafter, yet it was by chance
of battle that this happened and with no evil intent of mine. Moreover,
your brother, Sir Gelotius, took his chances of battle as did all those
who entered that tournament."
"Say no more!" said Sir Breuce. "Say no more! but prepare you straight
for battle with us who have every day sought you from that time till
now, and so have found you here to our hand."
"Messires," cried Sir Blyant, "would you fall upon me thus, two against
one?" They say, "Aye," and thereupon they drew sword and prepared
themselves for battle.
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant is assailed in the woodland._]
Then Sir Blyant perceiving how it was, and that there was no other way
for him to do than to fight this battle against odds, straightway drew
his sword and put himself into posture of defence. Then in a moment they
three came to battle together in the woods, two of them against the one.
Yet, for a while, although he stood one to two, Sir Blyant defended
himself with great courage and address, striking now upon this side and
now upon that, anon wheeling his horse away from a stroke, anon lashing
a stroke at his enemies. And so great was the defence he made that it
was a long time ere that those two knights had their will of him.
But one knight could not hope to fight thus a continued battle against
two who were his equals, wherefore it befell that in a little while Sir
Blyant was wounded here and there, and in another place; and then, in a
little while longer it came about that, what with weariness and what
from the loss of blood, he was aware that he must die in that battle
alone in the woodlands unless he saved himself from his enemies.
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant fleeth._]
Therewith a great despair fell upon him and with that he put his horse
straight at Sir Breuce as though to strike him a buffet. Then as Sir
Breuce drew aside to avoid that stroke, Sir Blyant drave his horse very
fiercely against Sir Breuce's horse, so that Sir Breuce's horse wellnigh
fell to the ground with his rider upon his back. Therewith Sir Blyant
thrust past his enemy and quickly fled away toward his castle with all
the speed that he could drive his horse to make.
Now at first those two knights were astonished at the sudden escape of
their enemy. But immediately they awoke to his going and so set spurs to
horse upon their part and chased after Sir Blyant; and if he sped fast,
they sped as fast after him. And ever and anon they lashed furiously at
him, yet because of his speed they could do him no great harm.
So Sir Blyant raced for his castle and he rushed forward beneath the
walls of the castle with those two knights thundering after him amain.
And because they were so close upon him, Sir Blyant could not draw rein
to turn his steed into the drawbridge of the castle, but must needs rush
past the drawbridge, calling for aid to those who were within the
walls.
[Sidenote: _The madman beholdeth Sir Blyant's danger._]
Now at that time Sir Launcelot lay (chained as was aforetold) in a
certain window of the castle where the sun shone down strong and warm
upon him, and Sir Launcelot slumbered there in the sunlight. And as Sir
Launcelot so slumbered he was aroused by the sound of galloping horses
and a loud noise of shouting and the din of lashing of blows. So,
looking forth from that window, he beheld the three knights as they came
thundering past the walls of the castle. And Sir Launcelot beheld that
the one knight who was pursued by the two knights was his master, Sir
Blyant; and he beheld that Sir Blyant was much put to it to save his
life; for he was all covered over with blood and, whilst anon he would
wheel his horse and strike right and left, yet anon he would wheel again
and flee for his life; and Sir Launcelot beheld that Sir Blyant reeled
in his saddle under every blow that his enemies lashed at him.
Meanwhile, in the castle was a great shouting and calling to arms,
wherefore it came to Sir Launcelot to know that Sir Blyant was being
slain.
[Sidenote: _The madman breaketh his bonds._]
Then a great rage of battle awoke in Sir Launcelot's heart against those
who pressed his beloved master, Sir Blyant, in that wise, wherefore he
would have hastened to the aid of Sir Blyant, but could not because of
the chains that bound him. Then, in his madness, and being driven
furious at being thus bound, Sir Launcelot catched those strong steel
chains in his hands and wrestled with them. And the chains bit deep into
his flesh in his wrestlings so that he was sore wounded by the iron. But
in spite of that Sir Launcelot put forth his entire strength, and even
though the blood flowed from his arms and hands yet he snapped the
chains that bound his arms. After that he catched up a great stone in
his hands and he beat upon the chains that bound his legs and brake
those also, and so he was free again.
Then Sir Launcelot leaped upon the window-ledge, and he leaped out of
the window of the castle and into the moat below and he swam the moat
and so came out upon the other side thereof.
Right there came Sir Blyant striving to defend himself against those who
followed him, and at that time he was very nigh falling from his horse
at every blow he received. This Sir Launcelot beheld and when he saw how
those two knights ever smote Sir Blyant and how that Sir Blyant reeled
in his saddle beneath those blows, he roared aloud in pity and in rage.
[Sidenote: _The madman doeth battle for Sir Blyant._]
Therewith, thus roaring, he straightway rushed upon Sir Bertolet, who
was nighest to him, and he leaped up and catched that knight about the
body and dragged him down upon the pommel of his saddle with great force
of strength, and Sir Launcelot catched the sword of Sir Bertolet and he
wrestled with Sir Bertolet and so plucked the sword out of Sir
Bertolet's hand.
Then Sir Bertolet cried out to Sir Breuce: "Help! Help! my brother! For
this madman slayeth me."
Therewith Sir Breuce turned from Sir Blyant for to succor his brother,
and upon that Sir Launcelot quitted Sir Bertolet and rushed at Sir
Breuce. And Sir Launcelot gave Sir Breuce such a buffet upon the helm
with the sword of Sir Bertolet that he smote Sir Breuce with that one
blow clean over the crupper of his horse.
Then Sir Bertolet took his spear in hand and therewith rushed his horse
upon Sir Launcelot with intent to pierce him through the body. But from
that assault Sir Launcelot leaped nimbly aside. Thereupon he rushed in
and catched the spear of Sir Bertolet in his hand; and he ran up the
length of the spear, and reached forward, and smote Sir Bertolet such a
blow that he cut through the epaulier of the shoulder and deep into the
shoulder to the very bone thereof, so that the arm of Sir Bertolet was
half cut away from the body at that blow. Then Sir Launcelot would have
struck again only that Sir Bertolet let go his spear from his hand,
shrieking aloud, and wheeled his horse to escape.
Now by that time Sir Breuce sans Pitie had got him to horse again
wherefore, beholding that terrible blow and beholding how his brother
Sir Bertolet fled away from that madman, he also drove spurs to flank
and fled away with might and main.
So it was that Sir Launcelot, unarmed, save for the sword in his naked
hand, defeated two strong and doughty knights and so saved his master's
life.
[Sidenote: _Sir Blyant cherisheth the madman._]
But by now the castle folk had come running to where were Sir Blyant and
him whom they called the mad fool of the castle, and they beheld them
both panting and bleeding. And Sir Blyant looked upon Sir Launcelot and
beheld how his arms and hands were torn and bleeding from breaking those
chains, and he said, "Poor fool! and hast thou suffered all that for my
sake?" And at that Sir Launcelot laughed and nodded. Then Sir Blyant
said to the folk of the castle: "Never let those chains be put upon his
body again, for he is gentle and kind, and meaneth harm to no one."
So they did not chain Sir Launcelot again, but suffered him to go free,
and after that he wandered whithersoever he willed to go, and no one
stayed him in his going or his coming. And ever he was kind and gentle
to all so that no one in all that place had any fear of him but all were
pleased and merry with him.
Yet ever there lay within the heart of Sir Launcelot some remembrance
that told him that he was too worthy to content himself with being a mad
fool in a lord's castle, wherefore it was always in his will to escape
from the castle of Sir Blyant if he was able to do so.
[Sidenote: _The madman escapeth from the castle of Sir Blyant._]
So now, being unchained, it happened one night when none observed him,
that he dropped privily from the wall of the castle into the moat
thereof, and swam the moat to the other side. And after he had thus
escaped into the night he ran on without stopping until he had reached
the forest, and there he roamed once more altogether wild as he had been
aforetime. For the remnant of his knighthood said to him that it would
be better for him to die alone there in the woodlands than to dwell in
shame in a lord's castle.
* * * * *
Now at that time there was a great wild boar in those parts that was the
terror of all men, and this boar was called the boar of
Lystenesse--taking its name from that part of the forest which was
called the Forest of Lystenesse.
[Sidenote: _King Arthur hunts the boar of Lystenesse._]
So word of this great wild boar, and news of its ravages came to the
ears of King Arthur, whereupon the King ordained that a day should be
set apart for a hunt in which the beast should be slain and the
countryside set free from the ravages thereof.
[Sidenote: _The madman chases the boar._]
Thus it befell that upon a time Sir Launcelot, where he lived in his
madness alone in the forest, was aware of the baying of hounds and the
shouting of voices sounding ever nearer and nearer to where he was. Anon
the baying of the hounds approached him very near indeed, and presently
there came a great cracking and rending of the bushes and the small
trees. Thereupon as he gazed, there burst out of the forest that great
savage wild boar of Lystenesse. And lo! the jowl of that boar was all
white with the foam that was churned by his tusks, and the huge tusks of
the boar gleamed white in the midst of the foam. And the bristles of
that great beast were like sharp wires of steel, and they too were all
flecked with the foam that had fallen from the jowl of the beast. And
the eyes of the wild boar gleamed like to two coals of fire, and it
roared like to a devil as it fled, rending, through the forest. And ever
the hounds pursued the boar, hanging upon its flanks but not daring to
grapple with it in its flight, because of the terror that surrounded it.
Then when Sir Launcelot beheld that sight the love of the chase flamed
up within his heart and thereupon he shouted aloud and fell to running
beside the dogs after the boar, tearing his way through the briars and
thorns and thickets, even as the boar and the hounds burst through
them. And so Sir Launcelot and the dogs chased the boar for a great
while, until at last the beast came to bay, with his back set against a
great crag of stone, and there the dogs surrounded it, yelling and
baying. And ever Sir Launcelot shouted them on to the assault, yet not
one of the hounds dared to grapple with the wild beast because of the
terror of its appearance.
So as Sir Launcelot and the dogs joined in assault about the boar, there
came the sound of a horseman riding with speed and winding his horn.
Then in a moment there came King Arthur himself, bursting out of the
forest alone; for he had outridden all his court and was the first of
all upon the field.
Then King Arthur, beholding the boar where he stood at bay, set his
lance in rest with intent to charge the beast and to pierce him through
the body. But the boar, all fierce and mad with the chase it had
suffered, did not wait that charge of the King but himself charged the
horseman. And at that charge King Arthur's horse was affrighted, with
the terror of the beast and flung suddenly aside so that the lance of
King Arthur failed of its aim.
[Sidenote: _The boar overthroweth King Arthur._]
Therewith the boar ran up under the point of the lance and he catched
the horse of the King with his tusks and ripped the horse so that both
horse and rider fell to the ground; King Arthur beneath the wounded
animal, so that he could not free his leg to rise from his fall.
Then it would have been ill indeed with King Arthur but for that forest
madman. For beholding the fall of the King, Sir Launcelot ran
straightway to him. And he seized the sword of the King and plucked it
forth from its sheath. Therewith he leaped at the boar and lashed at it
a mighty buffet, and as he did so his foot slipped in the blood of the
horse which there lay upon the ground, and he fell flat with the force
of that blow which he purposed should destroy the boar.
Thereupon the boar, finding himself thus attacked by another, turned
upon that other and ere Sir Launcelot could arise from his fall it was
upon him. And the boar ripped Sir Launcelot with its tusks through the
flesh of the thigh, even to the hip bone.
[Sidenote: _The madman slayeth the boar._]
Now, when Sir Launcelot felt the pang of that dreadful wound which the
boar gave him he yelled aloud. At the same time his soul was filled with
a great passion of rage and madness so that, ere the boar could charge
him again, he leaped to his feet and rushed upon the boar. And Sir
Launcelot smote the boar such a terrible dreadful stroke that he cut
through the bristles of the neck and through the spine of the neck and
half-way through the neck itself, so that the head of the boar was
wellnigh cut away from its body.
Therewith the boar fell down dead and Sir Launcelot staggered and stood
leaning upon the sword, groaning amain with the bitter pangs of pain
that racked him.
Right so, as Sir Launcelot stood thus, the other huntsmen of the King's
party came bursting out of the forest with the sound of horses and of
shouting voices.
Then when Sir Launcelot beheld them he thought, because of his madness
and the raging of his torments, that these were they who had hurt him.
So therewith he roared like to a wild beast and he ran at those
newcomers, whirling the sword of King Arthur like lightning around his
head.
Then several of those set their lances in rest with intent to run the
madman through the body ere he could do a harm to any one, but King
Arthur cried out: "Beware what you do! Do him no harm, for he hath saved
my life." So those who would else have charged Sir Launcelot held their
hands and drew away in retreat before him.
But already Sir Launcelot's strength was failing him, for his brains
were even then swimming with faintness. So in a little he sank down in a
swoon and lay all of a heap upon the ground.
Then the King, and the others who were there came to where he lay
bleeding and swooning, and all looked down upon him, and because he was
all naked and unkempt they knew him not. But nevertheless, they beheld
that he was of great girth and that he was covered over with a great
many scars of battle, and they all felt deep pity for him as he lay
there. Then King Arthur said: "This is the framework of a mighty
champion. Pity indeed that he should have come to this as we behold
him." And he said: "Lift him up tenderly and bear him hence to where he
may have comfort and nourishment."
So they lifted Sir Launcelot with great gentleness, and they bare him
away from that place, and they brought him to the hut of that hermit
where he had been healed aforetime when he had received that grievous
wound in the tournament at Astolat.
* * * * *
So the hermit received Sir Launcelot and wist not who he was. For though
he beheld that here was a man of mighty girth and stature, yet was the
great champion so changed by his madness and by his continued fasting in
the forest that even his nearest friends might not know him.
Nevertheless, though the hermit knew him not, yet he had them lay that
forest madman upon a cot in his cell, and he searched that wound in the
madman's thigh and bathed it with tepid water, and anointed it with
balm and bound it up with bands of smooth white linen, so that that
wound was in all ways well searched and dressed.
[Sidenote: _The madman lyeth in the hermit's cell._]
And the hermit looked upon Sir Launcelot and beheld that he was all
gaunt and hollow with hunger and he said: "If this poor mad creature is
not fed, he will die in a little while." So when Sir Launcelot had
revived him from that swoon, the good old man fetched milk and white
bread and offered them to the sick man. But he would not touch that
food. For, though he was dying of hunger, yet he loathed that food
because of his madness.
So Sir Launcelot lay there wounded and famishing and the hermit wist not
what to do to make him eat. And he lay in that wise for three days and
ever the hermit watched him and tried to make him partake of food, and
ever the madman would fling away from the food that was offered him.
[Sidenote: _The madman escapeth from the cell of the hermit._]
Now upon the fourth day, the hermit being at his orisons in the chapel,
Sir Launcelot made assay to rise, and in spite of his weakness, he did
arise. And having thus arisen, he found strength in some wise for to
crawl out of the hut of the hermit, and the hermit at his prayers wist
not that the wounded man was gone. And after that Sir Launcelot crept
away into the forest and so hid himself, very cunningly, like to a wild
creature, so that, though the hermit searched for him ever so closely,
yet he was not able to find him. And the hermit said: "Alas for this!
For certes this poor madman will die of his wound and of starvation all
alone here in the forest, and no one can bring him succor."
* * * * *
So it was that Sir Launcelot escaped from the cell of the hermit a
second time. And now it remaineth to be told how he returned to Corbin
and to the Lady Elaine the Fair, and how the Lady Elaine cherished him
and brought him back to health and strength and comeliness again. So I
pray you to read that which followeth if you would fain learn concerning
those things.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Lady Elaine the Fair knoweth Sir Launcelot:]
[Illustration]
Chapter Third
_How Sir Launcelot returned to Corbin again and how the Lady Elaine the
Fair cherished him and brought him back to health. Also how Sir
Launcelot with the Lady Elaine withdrew to Joyous Isle._
So Sir Launcelot escaped from the cell of the hermit as aforetold. And
he lay hidden in the thickets all that day till the night had come. And
when the night had come he arose and turned his face toward the eastward
and thitherward he made his way.
[Sidenote: _How Sir Launcelot returneth to Corbin._]
For death was very close to Sir Launcelot and there was but one thought
in his mind and that thought was to return to Corbin. For even through
his clouds of madness, Sir Launcelot wist that there at Corbin a great
love awaited him and that if he might reach that place he might there
have rest and peace; wherefore in this time of weakness and of pain, he
willed to return to that place once more.
So Sir Launcelot made his way toward Corbin, and he travelled
thitherward several days and God alone knows how he did so. And one
morning at the breaking of the day he came to the town of Corbin, and he
entered the town by a postern gate he knew of old. And after he had
entered the town he made his way slowly and with great pain up through
the streets of the town and the town was still asleep. So he came unseen
to the market-place of Corbin where he had aforetime slain the Worm of
Corbin as aforetold, and there sat him down upon that slab of stone
beneath which the Worm had made its habitation. And why he came there
who shall say except that maybe there lay very dimly within his mind
some remembrance that here he had one time had great honor and glory of
knighthood.
[Sidenote: _The people behold the madman._]
So there he sat, and when the people of the town awoke they beheld
sitting there in the midst of that market-place one all naked and
famished who gazed about him with wild and terrified looks like to a
starving wolf who had come out of the forest driven by hunger.
And many gathered and stared at Sir Launcelot from a distance, and these
laughed and jeered at him as he sat there in his nakedness, and not one
of those wist that this was he who had aforetime slain the Worm of
Corbin and so saved them in a time of their direst need. So they laughed
and mocked him and anon some of those who were there began to cast
stones at him with intent to drive him away from that place. So, at
last, one of those stones struck Sir Launcelot where he sat, and at that
his rage flamed up and took possession of him, whereupon he leaped up
and ran at those who were tormenting him. And he catched a young man of
the town and heaved him up and cast him down so violently upon the earth
that he broke the bone of his thigh.
[Sidenote: _The people assail the madman._]
Upon that all those who were there shouted and screamed and fled away.
And anon they returned and began stoning Sir Launcelot where he stood
glaring and gnashing his teeth with the man whom he had hurt lying upon
the ground at his feet. And many stones struck Sir Launcelot, some
wounding him upon the head and some upon the body. And now and then Sir
Launcelot would charge the mob in his rage, and the mob would scatter
before him like chaff before a gust of wind; but ever they would return
and begin stoning him again.
So stoning Sir Launcelot and so Sir Launcelot charging the mob, the
people drove him out of the market-place. And they drave him through the
town and Sir Launcelot retreated before them toward the castle; for he
wist even in his madness that there were friends there who should help
him. So he ever retreated until he had come to a postern gate of the
castle, and there he took stand with his back set against a wall. So at
that place he maintained his stand, facing the mob and glaring upon
them, until at last a stone smote him upon the head and he fell to the
earth.
[Sidenote: _They of the castle save Sir Launcelot._]
Then it would have fared very hard with Sir Launcelot, even to his
death, had not they within the castle, hearing the uproar of the
multitude, flung open the postern gate of a sudden and so come charging
out upon the mob. Thereupon the multitude, being thus charged by the
armed folk of the castle, scattered upon all sides and ran away, leaving
Sir Launcelot lying where he was.
Then they of the castle came and gazed upon Sir Launcelot where he lay,
and they beheld what a great and noble frame of man it was that lay
there, and thereupon they took great pity that such a man should be in
that condition. So the captain of the guard said: "Alas, that such a man
as this has been should come to such a pass. Now let us lift him up and
bear him away into the castle where he may have care and nourishment."
So they did as that captain said, and they brought Sir Launcelot into
the castle of Corbin and to safety.
[Sidenote: _The Lady Elaine knoweth Sir Launcelot._]
Now it chanced that the Lady Elaine the Fair happened to be at her
window, and looking down therefrom and into the courtyard she beheld
where several men at arms bore a wounded man into the castle from that
postern gate. As they passed beneath where she was, the Lady Elaine
looked down upon the countenance of the wounded man. Then she beheld his
face with the sun shining bright upon it, and at that a thought struck
through her like to the stroke of a keen, sharp knife, whereat the Lady
Elaine clasped her hands and cried out aloud: "My soul! My soul! What is
this? Can it be he?"
Now there was in attendance upon the Lady Elaine at that time a certain
very old and sedate lady of the court who had been her nurse and
caretaker ever since her mother had died, leaving her a little helpless
babe cast adrift upon the world. And the name of that lady was Dame
Brysen. So Elaine ran to where Dame Brysen was and she cast herself upon
her knees before Dame Brysen and buried her face in Dame Brysen's lap
even as though it were her mother who sat there. And she cried out from
where she lay with her face in that lady's lap, "Alas! Alas! Alas!
Methinks I have beheld a most terrible sight!" Dame Brysen, speaking as
in affright, said, "What hast thou seen, my child?" The Lady Elaine
said: "Methinks I have beheld Sir Launcelot all starved with famine, and
bruised and bleeding, and lying so nigh to death that I know not whether
he is dead or not."
Dame Brysen said: "What is this thou sayst, my child? Where sawst thou
such a sight as that? Hast thou been dreaming?" The Lady Elaine said:
"Nay, I have not been dreaming, for, certes, as I stood at the window a
little while ago I saw Sir Launcelot, and several men bore him into the
castle courtyard through the postern gate, and he was all naked and
starved and wounded and bruised."
The Dame Brysen said: "Nay, child, calm thyself; what ails thee to think
so strange a thing as that? That man whom thou didst see was not Sir
Launcelot, but was a poor madman whom the townsfolk were stoning at the
postern gate."
But the Lady Elaine cried out all the more vehemently: "I fear! I fear!
Certes that was Sir Launcelot! Now take me to him so that I may be
assured whether it was he or not, for otherwise meseems I shall go mad!"
Then Dame Brysen perceived how it was with the Lady Elaine and that she
was like one gone distracted, and she wist that there was naught to do
but to let her have her will of this matter. Wherefore she said, "It
shall be as thou wilt have it."
[Sidenote: _The Lady Elaine cometh to Sir Launcelot._]
So Dame Brysen arose and she took the Lady Elaine by the hand and she
led her to that place where the madman lay, and they beheld that he lay
in a little cell of stone, very gloomy and dark. For the only light that
came into that place was through a small window, barred with iron, and
the window was not more than two hands' breadth in width. Yet by the dim
light of this small window they beheld the wounded man where he lay upon
a hard pallet of straw. And they beheld that he was in a sleep as though
it were a swoon of death and they beheld that his face was like death
for whiteness.
Then in that gloomy light the Lady Elaine came and kneeled down beside
the couch whereon he lay and looked down into Sir Launcelot's face and
she studied his face as though it were a book written very fine and
small; and ever her breath came more and more quickly as it would
suffocate her, for she felt assured that this was indeed Sir Launcelot.
And anon she took Sir Launcelot's hand, all thin with famine and as cold
as ice, and she looked at it and she beheld a ring upon the finger and
the ring was set with a clear blue stone, and thereupon the Lady Elaine
knew that this was the ring which the Lady of the Lake had given Sir
Launcelot aforetime.
[Sidenote: _The Lady Elaine weepeth._]
Thereupon she knew that this was indeed Sir Launcelot and she cried out
in a very loud and piercing voice, "It is he! It is he!" and so crying
she fell to weeping with great passion. And she kissed Sir Launcelot's
hand and pressed it to her throat and kissed it again and yet again.
Then Dame Brysen leaned over the Lady Elaine and catched her beneath the
arm and said: "Lady, Lady! restrain your passion! remember yourself, and
that people are here who will see you." Therewith Dame Brysen lifted the
Lady Elaine up from where she kneeled, and she brought her out of that
gloomy place, still weeping with a great passion of love and pity. But
yet the Lady Elaine had so much thought for herself that she drew her
veil across her face so that none might behold her passion, and she said
to Dame Brysen, "Take me to my father," and so, Dame Brysen, embracing
her with one arm, led her to where King Pelles was.
[Sidenote: _The Lady Elaine telleth her father of Sir Launcelot._]
Then, when the Lady Elaine beheld her father standing before her, she
flung herself upon her knees and embraced him about the thighs, crying:
"Father! Father! I have seen him and he is in this castle!" At this
passion of sorrow King Pelles was much amazed and he said, "Whom hast
thou seen, my daughter?" She said: "I have seen Sir Launcelot, and it
was he whom they fetched into the castle but now to save him from the
townsfolk who were stoning him to death at the postern gate." Then King
Pelles was amazed beyond measure and he said: "Can such a thing be true?
How knowest thou it was he?" She said: "I know him by many signs, for I
knew him by my love for him and I knew him by his face, and I knew him
by the ring set with a blue stone which he weareth upon his finger."
Then King Pelles lifted up the Lady Elaine where she kneeled at his feet
and he said: "Daughter, stay thy weeping and I will go and examine into
this."
So he did as he said and he went to the cell and he looked long upon Sir
Launcelot as he lay there. And he looked at the ring which the wounded
man wore upon his finger. So after a while King Pelles knew that that
was indeed Sir Launcelot who lay there, albeit he would not have known
him, had not the Lady Elaine first declared that it was he.
So immediately King Pelles bade those who were in attendance to lift Sir
Launcelot up and to bear him very tenderly away from that place and to
bring him to a fair large room. So they did as King Pelles commanded and
they laid Sir Launcelot upon a couch of down spread with a coverlet of
wadded satin. And King Pelles sent for a skilful leech to come and to
search Sir Launcelot's hurts and he bade the physician for to take all
heed to save his life. And all that while Sir Launcelot lay in that deep
swoon like to death and awoke not.
And Sir Launcelot slept in that wise for three full days and when he
awoke the Lady Elaine and her father and Dame Brysen and the leech alone
were present. And lo! when Sir Launcelot awoke his brain was clear of
madness and he was himself again, though weak, like to a little child
who hath been ill abed.
[Sidenote: _How Sir Launcelot awoke from his madness._]
That time the Lady Elaine was kneeling beside Sir Launcelot's couch and
hers was the face he first beheld. Then Sir Launcelot said, speaking
very faint and weak, "Where am I?" and the Lady Elaine wept and said,
"Lord, you are safe with those who hold you very dear." Sir Launcelot
said, "What has befallen me?" She said: "Lord, thou hast been bedazed in
thy mind and hast been sorely hurt with grievous wounds, wherefore thou
hast been upon the very edge of death. But now thou art safe with those
who love thee."
He said, "Have I then been mad?" And to that they who were there said
naught. Then Sir Launcelot said again, "Have I been mad?" and thereupon
King Pelles said, "Yea, Messire."
Then Sir Launcelot groaned as from his soul, and he covered his face
with one hand (for the Lady Elaine held the other hand in hers) and he
said, "What shame! What shame!" And therewith he groaned again.
[Sidenote: _How Sir Launcelot was cherished._]
Then, ever weeping, the Lady Elaine said, "No shame, Lord, but only very
great pity!" and she kissed his hand and washed it with her tears. And
Sir Launcelot wept also because of his great weakness, and by and by he
said, "Elaine, meseems I have no hope or honor save in thee," and she
said, "Take peace, Sir, for in my heart there is indeed both honor for
you and hope for your great happiness." And so Sir Launcelot did take
peace.
Then after a while Sir Launcelot said, "Who here knoweth of my madness?"
and King Pelles said, "Only a very few in this castle, Messire."
Then Sir Launcelot said: "I pray you that this be all as secret as
possible, and that no word concerning me goes beyond these walls." And
King Pelles said, "It shall be as you would have it, Messire."
So it was that the news of Sir Launcelot's madness and of his recovery
was not carried beyond those walls.
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot and Elaine commune together._]
Now after a fortnight had passed, Sir Launcelot was fast becoming cured
in body and mind. And one day he and the Lady Elaine were alone in that
room where he lay and he said, "Lady, meseems you have had great cause
to hate me." At this she looked upon him and smiled, and she said, "How
could I hate thee, Launcelot?" Sir Launcelot said, "Elaine, I have done
thee great and grievous wrong in times gone by." She said, "Say naught
of that." "Yea," he said, "I must say much of that, for I have this to
say of it, that I would that I could undo that wrong which I did thee by
my neglect. But what have I aught to offer thee in compensation? Naught
but mine own broken and beggared life. Yet that poor life and all that
it holds dearest I would fain offer thee if only it might be a
compensation to thee."
Then the Lady Elaine looked very long and intently at Sir Launcelot and
she said: "Sir Launcelot, thy lips speak of duty, but that which boots
is that thy heart should speak of duty. For if so be that thou hast ever
done me wrong, thou canst not hope to remove that wrong by the words of
thy mouth. But if from thy heart thou sayst, 'I have wronged this one
and I would fain make amends,' then indeed may that wrong be very
quickly amended."
Then Sir Launcelot smiled and he said: "And so I have looked well into
my heart ere I spake to thee, and so it is my heart that speaks and not
my lips. For in my heart meseems I find great love for thee and certes I
find all honor and reverence for thee lying therein, and moving me to
everything that I now hope to do or to perform. Now tell me, Lady, what
can any heart hold more than that?" And Elaine said, "Meseems it can
hold no more."
Then Sir Launcelot took her by the hand and drew her to him and she went
to him, and he kissed her upon the lips and she forbade him not. So they
two were reconciled in peace and happiness.
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot and the Lady Elaine are wedded._]
So when Sir Launcelot was altogether healed of his sickness, they two
were married. And after they were married, King Pelles gave to them a
very noble castle for to be their dwelling-place and that castle was
called the Castle of Blayne.
That castle stood upon a very beautiful island in the midst of a lake of
pure water as clear as crystal. And the island was covered over with
many plantations and orchards of beautiful trees of various foliages.
And there were gardens and meadows upon that island and there was a town
about the castle so fair that when one stood upon the margin of that
lake and gazed across the lake to the town and the castle he beheld such
a place as one may see in a shining dream.
So Sir Launcelot, because of the great peace of that island and because
of the peace which he hoped to find there, called it the Joyous Isle,
and so it was known of all men from that time forth.
* * * * *
So endeth this part of the history of Sir Launcelot with only this to
say. That he dwelt there in Joyous Isle in seeming peace and
contentment.
[Sidenote: _How Sir Launcelot dwelt in Joyous Isle._]
Yet was it indeed peace and contentment that he felt? Alas, that it
should be so, but so it was that ever and anon he would remember him of
other days of doughty deeds of glory and renown, and ever and anon he
would bethink him of that beautiful queen to whom he had one time
uplifted his eyes, and of whom he had now no right to think of in that
wise. Then his soul would up in arms and would cry out aloud: "Let us go
hence and seek that glory and that other's love once more! Are not all
thy comrades waiting for thee to return, and doth not she also look for
thee?" Then Sir Launcelot would ever say to his soul, "Down, proud
spirit, and think not of these things, but of duty." But ever and anon
that spirit would arise again within him and would struggle with the
bonds of honor that held it in check. And ever Sir Launcelot would say,
"That which remaineth for me is my duty and my peace of soul."
For indeed it is so that the will of a man is but a poor weak defence
against the thoughts that arise within a stubborn heart. For, though a
man may will to do that which is right, yet may his thoughts ever turn
to that which is wrong; and though he may refrain from doing wrong, yet
it is in spite of his desirings that he thus refraineth. Yea; there is
no help for a man to contain himself within the bounds of duty, save
only that he hath the love of God within his heart. For only when his
feet are planted upon that rock may he hope to withstand the powerful
thoughts that urge him to do that which is wrong.
So it was with Sir Launcelot at that time; for though he ever willed to
do that which was right, yet his desires ever called to him to depart
from the paths of honor and truth in which he walked, and so he was
oftentimes much troubled in his spirit.
[Illustration]