PART I

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THE STORY OF THE CHAMPIONS OF THE ROUND TABLE

Written and Illustrated by

HOWARD PYLE.

In 1902 the distinguished American artist Howard Pyle undertook to retell

and illustrate the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round

Table. His four-volume work has long been considered one of the outstanding

interpretations of the Arthur cycle.

_The Story of the Champions of the Round Table_, the second of Pyle's

volumes, was originally published in 1905. Reissued now, identical in

format to the original volume, with Pyle's superb illustrations and

decorations, it is destined to reach new generations of readers. _The Story

of the Champions of the Round Table_ recounts the full and moving saga of

three of Arthur's famous knights: Percival, Tristram, and Launcelot of the

Lake.

* * * * *

_"The period in which Howard Pyle did his work frequently has been spoken

of as that Golden Age in children's literature that was to last for the

decade to follow. It is difficult to do justice to his contribution to the

shining quality of that era. The magnitude and diversity of his work eludes

definition. Creative artist and born storyteller, each aspect of his

twofold genius enriched and interpreted the other."_

--Elizabeth Nesbitt, in _A Critical History of Children's Literature_

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot of the Lake]

Foreword

In a book which was written by me aforetime, and which was set forth in

print, I therein told much of the history of King Arthur; of how he

manifested his royalty in the achievement of that wonderful magic sword

which he drew forth out of the anvil; of how he established his royalty; of

how he found a splendid sword yclept Excalibur in a miraculously wonderful

manner; of how he won the most beautiful lady in the world for his queen;

and of how he established the famous Round Table of noble worthy knights,

the like of whose prowess the world hath never seen, and will not be likely

ever to behold again.

Also I told in that book the adventures of certain worthy knights and

likewise how the magician Merlin was betrayed to his undoing by a sorceress

hight Vivien.

Now, if you took any joy in reading that book, I have great hope that that

which follows may be every whit as pleasing to you; for I shall hereinafter

have to do with the adventures of certain other worthies with whom you may

have already become acquainted through my book and otherwise; and likewise

of the adventures of certain other worthies, of whom you have not yet been

told by me.

More especially, I believe, you will find entertainment in what I shall

have to tell you of the adventures of that great knight who was altogether

the most noble of spirit, and the most beautiful, and the bravest of heart,

of any knight who ever lived--excepting only his own son, Galahad, who was

the crowning glory of his house and of his name and of the reign of King

Arthur.

However, if Sir Launcelot of the Lake failed now and then in his behavior,

who is there in the world shall say, "I never fell into error"? And if he

more than once offended, who is there shall have hardihood to say, "I never

committed offence"?

Yea, that which maketh Launcelot so singularly dear to all the world, is

that he was not different from other men, but like other men, both in his

virtues and his shortcomings; only that he was more strong and more brave

and more untiring than those of us who are his brethren, both in our

endeavors and in our failures.

CONTENTS

The Story of Launcelot

Chapter First

How Sir Launcelot Came Forth From the Enchanted Castle of the

Lake and Entered Into the World Again, and How King Arthur

Made Him Knight

Chapter Second

How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel Rode Forth Errant Together

and How Sir Lionel Met Sir Turquine to His Great Dole. Also

How Sir Ector Grieved for the Departure of His Brother Launcelot

and So, Following Him, Fell into a Very Sorry Adventure

Chapter Third

How Sir Launcelot was Found in a Sleep by Queen Morgana

le Fay and Three Other Queens who were with Her, and How He

was Taken to a Castle of Queen Morgana's and of What Befell Him

There

Chapter Fourth

How Sir Launcelot Sought Sir Lionel and How a Young Damsel

Brought Him to the Greatest Battle that Ever He Had in All His

Life

Chapter Fifth

How Sir Launcelot Went Upon an Adventure with the Damsel

Croisette as Companion, and How He Overcame Sir Peris of the

Forest Sauvage

Chapter Sixth

How Sir Launcelot Took Part in the Tournament Between King

Bagdemagus and the King of North Wales, and How He Won that

Battle for King Bagdemagus

Chapter Seventh

How Sir Launcelot Fell Into the Greatest Peril that Ever He Encountered

in all His Life. Also How He Freed a Misfortunate Castle

and Town From the Giants Who Held Them, and How He Released

the Lord Thereof From a Dungeon

Chapter Eighth

How Sir Launcelot Rescued Sir Kay From a Perilous Pass Also

How He Changed Armor with Sir Kay and what Befell

The Book of Sir Tristram

PART I

THE STORY OF SIR TRISTRAM AND THE LADY

BELLE ISOULT

Chapter First

How the new Queen of Lyonesse sought Tristram's life; how he went

to France, and how he Returned again to Lyonesse and was Received

With Love at that Place

Chapter Second

How Sir Tristram was made Knight by the King of Cornwall,

and how he Fought a Battle with a Famous Champion

Chapter Third

How Sir Tristram went to Ireland to be healed of his Wound by

the King's Daughter of Ireland, and of how he came to love the Lady

Belle Isoult. Also concerning Sir Palamydes and the Lady Belle

Isoult

Chapter Fourth

How Sir Tristram encountered Sir Palamydes at the Tournament

and of what befell. Also how Sir Tristram was Forced to leave the

Kingdom of Ireland

Chapter Fifth

How Sir Tristram was sent by Command of King Mark to go to

Ireland to Bring the Lady the Belle Isoult from Ireland to Cornwall

and how it fared with him

Chapter Sixth

How Sir Tristram had to do in Battle with Three Knights of the

Round Table. Also how he had Speech with King Arthur

Chapter Seventh

How Sir Tristram had Speech with King Angus of Ireland; how

he Undertook to Champion the Cause of King Angus and of what Happened

Thereafter

PART II

THE STORY OF SIR TRISTRAM AND SIR LAMORACK

Chapter First

How Sir Lamorack of Gales came to Tintagel and how he and Sir

Tristram Sware Friendship Together in the Forest

Chapter Second

How Sir Tristram Started to go to Camelot, and how he Stayed by

the Way to do Battle with Sir Nabon le Noir

Chapter Third

How Sir Tristram did justice in the island, and Thereby Released

Sir Lamorack from Captivity. Also how Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack

Renewed their Great Tenderness Toward one another

PART III

THE MADNESS OF SIR TRISTRAM

Chapter First

How Sir Tristram was Discovered with the Lady Belle Isoult;

how he Assaulted King Mark, and how he Escaped from Tintagel into

the Forest

Chapter Second

How Sir Tristram got him a Sword from Sir Kay, and how he Slew

Therewith a Huge Knight in the Forest and Rescued a Lady in very

Great Distress. Also how Sir Launcelot found Sir Tristram in the

Forest and Brought him Thence to Tintagel again

Chapter Third

How Sir Tristram was Discovered at Tintagel and of what Befell

Thereby

Chapter Fourth

How Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult Returned to Cornwall,

and how they Ended their Days Together

The Book of Sir Percival

Chapter First

How Percival Departed into the World and how he Found a Fair

Damsel in a Pavilion; likewise how he came before Queen Guinevere

and how he Undertook his First Adventure

Chapter Second

How Sir Percival was made Knight by King Arthur; how he rode

Forth with Sir Lamorack and how he Left Sir Lamorack in quest

of Adventure upon his own Account; likewise how a Great Knight

Taught him craft in Arms

Chapter Third

How Sir Percival met two Strange People in the Forest, and how

he Succored a Knight who was in very Great Sorrow and Dole

Chapter Fourth

How Sir Percival Undertook the Adventure of the Castle of Beaurepaire

and how he Fared Therein after Several Excellent Adventures

Chapter Fifth

How Sir Percival Repaid Sir Kay the Buffet he one time gave

Yelande the Dumb Maiden, and how, Thereafter, he went Forth to

Seek his own Lady of Love

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Head Piece--Table of Contents

Tail Piece--Table of Contents

Head Piece--List of Illustrations

Tail Piece--List of Illustrations

The Lady Nymue beareth away Launcelot into the Lake

Head Piece--Prologue

Tail Piece--Prologue

Sir Launcelot greets Queen Guinevere

Head Piece--The Story of Launcelot

Sir Lionel of Britain

Queen Morgana appears unto Sir Launcelot

Sir Launcelot doeth battle with Sir Turquine

Sir Launcelot sits with Sir Hilaire and Croisette

Sir Launcelot and Elouise the Fair

Sir Launcelot climbs to catch the lady's falcon

Sir Launcelot takes the armor of Sir Kay

Tail Piece--The Story of Launcelot

Sir Tristram of Lyonesse

Head Piece--Prologue

Tail Piece--Prologue

Tristram succors the Lady Moeya

Head Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult

King Mark of Cornwall

The Lady Belle Isoult

The Queen of Ireland seeks to slay Sir Tristram

Sir Tristram harpeth before King Mark

Sir Tristram sits with Sir Launcelot

Tail Piece

Belle Isoult and Sir Tristram drink the love draught

Tail Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult

Sir Lamorack of Gales

Head Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack

Sir Tristram cometh to ye castle of Sir Nabon

Sir Lamorack herds the swine of Sir Nabon

Tail Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack

Sir Tristram assaults King Mark

Head Piece--The Madness of Sir Tristram

Sir Kay and the Forest Madman

Sir Tristram leaps into ye Sea

King Mark broods mischief

Tail Piece--The Madness of Sir Tristram

Sir Percival of Gales

Head Piece--Prologue

The Lady Yvette the Fair

Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack ride together

Sir Percival overcometh ye Enchantress Vivien

The Demoiselle Blanchefleur

Sir Kay interrupts ye meditations of Sir Percival

Tail Piece--The Book of Sir Percival

[Illustration: The Lady Nymue beareth away Launcelot into the Lake]

Prologue.

It hath already been set forth in print in a volume written by me

concerning the adventures of King Arthur when he first became king, how

there were certain lesser kings who favored him and were friendly allies

with him, and how there were certain others of the same sort who were his

enemies.

Among those who were his friends was King Ban of Benwick, who was an

exceedingly noble lord of high estate and great honor, and who was of a

lineage so exalted that it is not likely that there was anyone in the world

who was of a higher strain.

[Sidenote: Of King Ban and his misfortunes] Now, upon a certain time, King

Ban of Benwick fell into great trouble; for there came against him a very

powerful enemy, to wit, King Claudas of Scotland. King Claudas brought unto

Benwick a huge army of knights and lords, and these sat down before the

Castle of Trible with intent to take that strong fortress and destroy it.

This noble Castle of Trible was the chiefest and the strongest place of

defence in all King Ban's dominions, wherefore he had intrenched himself

there with all of his knights and with his Queen, hight Helen, and his

youngest son, hight Launcelot.

Now this child, Launcelot, was dearer to Queen Helen than all the world

besides, for he was not only large of limb but so extraordinarily beautiful

of face that I do not believe an angel from Paradise could have been more

beautiful than he. He had been born with a singular birth-mark upon his

shoulder, which birth-mark had the appearance as of a golden star enstamped

upon the skin; wherefore, because of this, the Queen would say: "Launcelot,

by reason of that star upon thy shoulder I believe that thou shalt be the

star of our house and that thou shalt shine with such remarkable glory that

all the world shall behold thy lustre and shall marvel thereat for all time

to come." So the Queen took extraordinary delight in Launcelot and loved

him to the very core of her heart--albeit she knew not, at the time she

spake, how that prophecy of hers concerning the star was to fall so

perfectly true.

Now, though King Ban thought himself very well defended at his Castle of

Trible, yet King Claudas brought so terribly big an army against that place

that it covered the entire plain. A great many battles were fought under

the walls of the castle, but ever King Claudas waxed greater and stronger,

and King Ban's party grew weaker and more fearful.

[Sidenote: King Ban bethinks him of King Arthur] So by and by things came

to such a pass that King Ban bethought him of King Arthur, and he said to

himself: "I will go to my lord the King and beseech help and aid from him,

for he will certainly give it me. Nor will I trust any messenger in this

affair other than myself; for I myself will go to King Arthur and will

speak to him with my own lips."

Having thus bethought him, he sent for Queen Helen to come into his privy

closet and he said to her: "My dear love, nothing remaineth for me but to

go unto the court of King Arthur and beseech him to lend his powerful aid

in this extremity of our misfortunes; nor will I trust any messenger in

this affair but myself. Now, this castle is no place for thee, when I am

away, therefore, when I go upon this business, I will take thee and

Launcelot with me, and I will leave you both in safety at King Arthur's

court with our other son, Sir Ector, until this war be ended and done." And

to these Queen Helen lent her assent.

So King Ban summoned to him the seneschal of the castle, who was named Sir

Malydor le Brun, and said to him: "Messire, I go hence to-night by a secret

pass, with intent to betake me unto King Arthur, and to beseech his aid in

this extremity. Moreover, I shall take with me my lady and the young child

Launcelot, to place them within the care of King Arthur during these

dolorous wars. But besides these, I will take no other one with me but only

my favorite esquire, Foliot. Now I charge thee, sir, to hold this castle in

my behalf with all thy might and main, and yield it not to our enemies upon

any extremity; for I believe I shall in a little while return with

sufficient aid from King Arthur to compass the relief of this place."

[Sidenote: King Ban with Queen Helen and Launcelot escape from Trible] So

when night had fallen very dark and still, King Ban, and Queen Helen, and

the young child Launcelot, and the esquire Foliot left the town privily by

means of a postern gate. Thence they went by a secret path, known only to a

very few, that led down a steep declivity of rocks, with walls of rock upon

either side that were very high indeed, and so they came out in safety

beyond the army of King Claudas and into the forest of the valley below.

And the forest lay very still and solemn and dark in the silence of the

nighttime.

Having thus come out in safety into the forest, that small party journeyed

on with all celerity that they were able to achieve until, some little time

before dawn, they came to where was a lake of water in an open meadow of

the forest. Here they rested for a little while, for Queen Helen had fallen

very weary with the rough and hasty journey which they had traveled.

[Sidenote: Foliot seeth a light] Now whilst they sat there resting, Foliot

spake of a sudden, saying unto King Ban: "Lord, what is that light that

maketh the sky so bright yonder-ways?" Then King Ban looked a little and

presently said: "Methinks it must be the dawn that is breaking." "Lord,"

quoth Foliot, "that cannot very well be; for that light in the sky lieth in

the south, whence we have come, and not in the east, where the sun should

arise."

Then King Ban's heart misgave him, and his soul was shaken with a great

trouble. "Foliot," he said, "I believe that you speak sooth and that that

light bodes very ill for us all." Then he said: "Stay here for a little and

I will go and discover what that light may be." Therewith he mounted his

horse and rode away in the darkness.

[Sidenote: King Ban beholdeth the burning of Trible] Now there was a very

high hill near-by where they were, and upon the top of the hill was an open

platform of rock whence a man could see a great way off in every direction.

So King Ban went to this place, and, when he had come there, he cast his

eyes in the direction of the light and he straightway beheld with a manner

of terror that the light came from Trible; and then, with that terror still

growing greater at his heart, he beheld that the town and the castle were

all in one great flame of fire.

When King Ban saw this he sat for a while upon his horse like one turned

into a stone. Then, after a while, he cried out in a great voice: "Woe!

Woe! Woe is me!" And then he cried out still in a very loud voice, "Certes,

God hath deserted me entirely."

[Sidenote: The death of King Ban] Therewith a great passion of grief took

hold upon him and shook him like to a leaf, and immediately after that he

felt that something brake within him with a very sharp and bitter pain, and

he wist that it was his heart that had broken. So being all alone there

upon the hilltop, and in the perfect stillness of the night, he cried out,

"My heart! My heart!" And therewith, the shadows of death coming upon him,

he could not sit any longer upon his horse, but fell down upon the ground.

And he knew very well that death was nigh him, so, having no cross to pray

upon, he took two blades of grass and twisted them into that holy sign, and

he kissed it and prayed unto it that God would forgive him his sins. So he

died all alone upon that hilltop.

Meanwhile, Queen Helen and Foliot sat together waiting for him to return

and presently they heard the sound of his horse's hoofs coming down that

rocky path. Then Queen Helen said: "Foliot, methinks my lord cometh." So in

a little came the horse with the empty saddle. When Foliot beheld that he

said: "Lady, here meseems is great trouble come to us, for methinks

something hath befallen my lord, and that he is in sore travail, for here

is his horse without him."

Then it seemed to Queen Helen as though the spirit of life suddenly went

away from her, for she foresaw what had befallen. So she arose like one in

a dream, and, speaking very quietly, she said: "Foliot, take me whither my

lord went awhile since!" To this Foliot said: "Lady, wait until the

morning, which is near at hand, for it is too dark for you to go

thitherward at this present." Whereunto the Lady Helen replied: "Foliot, I

cannot wait, for if I stay here and wait I believe I shall go mad." Upon

this, Foliot did not try to persuade her any more but made ready to take

her whither she would go.

Now the young child Launcelot was then asleep upon the Queen's knees,

wherefore she took her cloak and wrapped the child in it and laid him very

gently upon the ground, so that he did not wake. Then she mounted upon her

palfrey and Foliot led the palfrey up the hill whither King Ban had gone a

short time since.

[Sidenote: The Lady Helen findeth the King] When they came to that place

of open rocks above told of, they found King Ban lying very quiet and still

upon the ground and with a countenance of great peace. For I believe of a

surety that God had forgiven him all his sins, and he would now suffer no

more because of the cares and the troubles of this life. Thus Queen Helen

found him, and finding him she made no moan or outcry of any kind, only she

looked for a long while into his dead face, which she could see very

plainly now, because that the dawn had already broken. And by and by she

said: "Dear Lord, thou art at this time in a happier case than I." And by

and by she said to Foliot: "Go and bring his horse to this place, that we

may bear him hence." "Lady," said Foliot, "it is not good for you to be

left here alone." "Foliot," said the Queen, "thou dost not know how much

alone I am; thy leaving me here cannot make me more alone." Therewith she

fell to weeping with great passion.

Then Foliot wept also in great measure and, still weeping like rain, he

went away and left her. When he came again with King Ban's horse the sun

had risen and all the birds were singing with great jubilation and

everything was so blithe and gay that no one could have believed that care

and trouble could dwell in a world that was so beautiful.

[Sidenote: The Lady Helen bringeth her dead down from the Mountain] So

Queen Helen and Foliot lifted the dead king to his horse and then the Queen

said: "Come thou, Foliot, at thine own gait, and I will go ahead and seek

my child, for I have yet Launcelot to be my joy. Haply he will be needing

me at this moment." So the Queen made haste down the steep hill ahead of

Foliot and by and by she came to the margin of that little lake where they

had rested awhile since.

By now the sun had risen very strong and warm so that all the lake, and the

meadows circumadjacent, and the forest that stood around about that meadow

were illumined with the glory of his effulgence.

Now as Queen Helen entered that meadow she beheld that a very wonderful

lady was there, and this lady bare the child Launcelot in her arms. And the

lady sang to Launcelot, and the young child looked up into her face and

laughed and set his hand against her cheek. All this Queen Helen beheld;

and she likewise beheld that the lady was of a very extraordinary

appearance, being clad altogether in green that glistered and shone with a

wonderful brightness. And she beheld that around the neck of the lady was a

necklace of gold, inset with opal stones and emeralds; and she perceived

that the lady's face was like ivory--very white and clear--and that her

eyes, which were very bright, shone like jewels set into ivory. And she saw

that the lady was very wonderfully beautiful, so that the beholder, looking

upon her, felt a manner of fear--for that lady was Fay.

(And that lady was the Lady of the Lake, spoken of aforetime in the Book of

King Arthur, wherein it is told how she aided King Arthur to obtain that

wonderful, famous sword yclept Excalibur, and how she aided Sir Pellias,

the Gentle Knight, in the time of his extremity, and took him into the lake

with her. Also divers other things concerning her are told of therein.)

Then the Queen came near to where the lady was, and she said to her,

"Lady, I pray you give me my child again!" Upon this the Lady of the Lake

smiled very strangely and said: "Thou shalt have thy child again, lady, but

not now; after a little thou shalt have him again." Then Queen Helen cried

out with great agony of passion: "Lady, would you take my child from me?

Give him to me again, for he is all I have left in the world. Lo, I have

lost house and lands and husband, and all the other joys that life has me

to give, wherefore, I beseech you, take not my child from me." To this the

Lady of the Lake said: "Thou must endure thy sorrow a while longer; for it

is so ordained that I must take thy child; for I take him only that I may

give him to thee again, reared in such a wise that he shall make the glory

of thy house to be the glory of the world. For he shall become the greatest

knight in the world, and from his loins shall spring a greater still than

he, so that the glory of the House of King Ban shall be spoken of as long

as mankind shall last." But Queen Helen cried out all the more in a great

despair: "What care I for all this? I care only that I shall have my little

child again! Give him to me!"

[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake taketh Launcelot into the Lake] Therewith

she would have laid hold of the garments of the Lady of the Lake in

supplication, but the Lady of the Lake drew herself away from Queen Helen's

hand and said: "Touch me not, for I am not mortal, but Fay." And thereupon

she and Launcelot vanished from before Queen Helen's eyes as the breath

vanishes from the face of a mirror.

For when you breathe upon a mirror the breath will obscure that which lieth

behind; but presently the breath will disappear and vanish, and then you

shall behold all things entirely clear and bright to the sight again. So

the Lady of the Lake vanished away, and everything behind her where she had

stood was clear and bright, and she was gone.

Then Queen Helen fell down in a swoon, and lay beside the lake of the

meadow like one that is dead; and when Foliot came he found her so and wist

not what to do for her. There was his lord who was dead and his lady who

was so like to death that he knew not whether she was dead or no. So he

knew not what to do but sat down and made great lamentation for a long

while.

[Sidenote: The Lady Helen taketh to a Nunnery] What time he sat thus there

came that way three nuns who dwelt in an abbey of nuns which was not a

great distance away from that place. These made great pity over that

sorrowful sight, and they took away from there the dead King and the woeful

Queen, and the King they buried in holy ground, and the Queen they let live

with them and she was thereafter known as the "Sister of Sorrows."

[Sidenote: How Launcelot dwelt in the lake] Now Launcelot dwelt for nigh

seventeen years with the Lady Nymue of the Lake in that wonderful,

beautiful valley covered over with the appearance of such a magical lake as

hath been aforetime described in the Book of King Arthur.

And that land of the lake was of this sort that shall here be described:--

Unto anyone who could enter into the magic water of that lake (and there

were very few of those who were mortal who were allowed to come to those

meadows of Faery that were there concealed beneath those enchanted waters)

he would behold before him a wide and radiant field of extraordinary

beauty. And he would behold that that field was covered all over with such

a multitude of exquisite and beautiful flowers that the heart of the

beholder would be elated with pure joy to find himself in the midst of that

waving sea of multitudinous and fragrant blossoms. And he would behold many

fair and shady groves of trees that here and there grew up from that

valley, each glade overshadowing a fountain of water as clear as crystal.

And he would perhaps behold, at such pleasant places beneath the shade of

those trees, some party of the fair and gentle folk of that country; and he

would see them playing in sport, or he would hear them chanting to the

music of shining golden harps. And he would behold in the midst of that

beautiful plain a wonderful castle with towers and roofs uplifted high into

the sky, and all shining in the peculiar radiance of that land, like to

castles and battlements of pure gold.

Such was the land unto which Launcelot was brought, and from what I have

told you you may see what a wonderful, beautiful place it was.

And the mystery of that place entered into the soul of Launcelot, so that

thereafter, when he came out thence, he was never like other folk, but

always appeared to be in a manner remote and distant from other of his

fellow-mortals with whom he dwelt.

For though he smiled a great deal, it was not often that he laughed; and if

he did laugh, it was never in scorn, but always in loving-kindness.

* * * * *

It was here in this land that Sir Pellias had now dwelt for several years,

with great peace and content. (For it hath been told in the Book of King

Arthur how, when he was upon the edge of death, the Lady Nymue of the Lake

brought him back to life again, and how, after that time, he was half fay

and half mortal.)

And the reason why Launcelot was brought to that place was that Sir Pellias

might teach him and train him in all the arts of chivalry. For no one in

all the world was more skilful in arms than Sir Pellias, and no one could

so well teach Launcelot the duties of chivalry as he.

So Sir Pellias taught Launcelot all that was best of knighthood, both as to

conduct of manner, and as to the worthiness and skill at arms, wherefore it

was that when Launcelot was completely taught, there was no knight in all

the world who was his peer in strength of arms or in courtesy of behavior,

until his own son, Sir Galahad, appeared in the courts of chivalry as shall

by and by be told of.

So when Launcelot came forth into the world again he became the greatest

knight in all the history of chivalry, wherefore that prophecy of his

mother was fulfilled as to his being like to a bright star of exceeding

lustre.

Accordingly, I have herein told you with great particularity all these

circumstances of his early history so that you may know exactly how it was

that he was taken away into the lake, and why it was that he was afterward

known as Sir Launcelot, surnamed of the Lake.

As to how he came into the world to achieve that greatness unto which he

had been preordained, and as to how King Arthur made him knight, and as to

many very excellent adventures that befell him, you shall immediately read

in what followeth.

PART I

The Story of Launcelot

_Here beginneth the story of Sir Launcelot, surnamed of the Lake, who was

held by all men to be the most excellent, noble, perfect knight-champion

who was ever seen in the world from the very beginning of chivalry unto the

time when his son, Sir Galahad, appeared like a bright star of

extraordinary splendor shining in the sky of chivalry.

In this Book it shall be told how he was taken into a magic lake, how he

came out thence to be made knight by King Arthur, and of how he undertook

several of those adventures that made him at once the wonder and the

admiration of all men, and the chiefest glory of the Round Table of

Arthur-Pendragon._

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot greets Queen Guinevere]

Chapter First

_How Sir Launcelot Came Forth From the Enchanted Castle of the Lake and

Entered Into the World Again, and How King Arthur Made Him Knight._

[Sidenote: Of the springtime of long ago] I know not any time of the year

that is more full of joyfulness than the early summer season; for that time

the sun is wonderfully lusty and strong, yet not so very hot; that time the

trees and shrubs are very full of life and very abundant of shade and yet

have not grown dry with the heats and droughts of later days; that time the

grass is young and lush and green, so that when you walk athwart the

meadow-lands it is as though you walked through a fair billowy lake of

magical verdure, sprinkled over with a great multitude of little flowers;

that time the roses are everywhere a-bloom, both the white rose and the

red, and the eglantine is abundant; that time the nests are brimful of

well-fledged nestlings, and the little hearts of the small parent fowls

are so exalted with gladness that they sing with all their mights and

mains, so that the early daytime is filled full of the sweet jargon and the

jubilant medley of their voices. Yea; that is a goodly season of the year,

for though, haply, the spirit may not be so hilarious as in the young and

golden springtime, yet doth the soul take to itself so great a content in

the fulness of the beauty of the world, that the heart is elated with a

great and abundant joy that it is not apt to feel at another season.

[Sidenote: King Arthur and two knights ride a-hunting] Now it chanced upon

the day before Saint John's day in the fulness of a summer-time such as

this, that King Arthur looked forth from his chamber very early in the

morning and beheld how exceedingly fair and very lusty was the world

out-of-doors--all in the freshness of the young daylight. For the sun had

not yet risen, though he was about to rise, and the sky was like to pure

gold for brightness; all the grass and leaves and flowers were drenched

with sweet and fragrant dew, and the birds were singing so vehemently that

the heart of any man could not but rejoice in the fulness of life that lay

all around about him.

There were two knights with King Arthur at that time, one was Sir Ewain,

the son of Morgana le Fay (and he was King Arthur's nephew), and the other

was Sir Ector de Maris, the son of King Ban of Benwick and of Queen

Helen--this latter a very noble, youthful knight, and the youngest of all

the Knights of the Round Table who were at that time elected. These stood

by King Arthur and looked forth out of the window with him and they also

took joy with him in the sweetness of the summer season. Unto them, after a

while, King Arthur spake, saying: "Messires, meseems this is too fair a day

to stay within doors. For, certes, it is a shame that I who am a king

should be prisoner within mine own castle, whilst any ploughman may be free

of the wold and the green woods and the bright sun and the blue sky and the

wind that blows over hill and dale. Now, I too would fain go forth out of

doors and enjoy these things; wherefore I ordain that we shall go

a-hunting this day and that ye and I shall start before any others of the

lords and the ladies that dwell herein are awake. So let us take our horses

and our hounds and let us take certain foresters and huntsmen, and let us

go forth a-hunting into the green forest; for this day shall be holiday for

me and for you and we shall leave care behind us, and for a while we shall

disport ourselves in pleasant places."

So they all did as King Arthur bade; they made them each man ready with his

own hands, and they bade the huntsmen and the foresters to attend thereupon

as the King had ordained. Then they rode forth from the castle and out into

the wide world that lay beyond, and it was yet so early in the morning that

none of the castle folk were astir to know of their departure.

All that day they hunted in the forest with much joy and with great sport,

nor did they turn their faces toward home again until the day was so far

spent that the sun had sunk behind the tops of the tall leafy trees. Then,

at that time, King Arthur gave command that they should bend their ways

toward Camelot once more.

[Sidenote: King Arthur and his companions find a strange damsel and a

dwarf] Now this time, being the Eve of Saint John, fairies and those folk

who are fay come forth, as is very well known, into the world from which

they dwell apart at other times. So when King Arthur and those two knights

and their several foresters and huntsmen came to a certain outlying part of

the forest, they were suddenly aware of a damsel and a dwarf waiting where

the road upon which they were travelling crossed another road, and they

perceived, from her very remarkable appearance, that the damsel was very

likely Fay. For both she and her dwarf sat each upon a milk-white horse,

very strangely still, close to where was a shrine by a hedge of hawthorne;

and the damsel was so wonderfully fair of face that it was a marvel to

behold her. Moreover, she was clad all in white samite from top to toe and

her garments were embroidered with silver; and the trappings and garniture

of her horse were of white samite studded with bright silver bosses,

wherefore, because of this silver, she glistered with a sudden lustre

whensoever she moved a little. When King Arthur and the two knights who

were with him drew nigh this damsel, much marvelling at her appearance, she

hailed him in a voice that was both high and clear, crying: "Welcome, King

Arthur! Welcome, King Arthur! Welcome, King Arthur!" saying three words

three times; and "Welcome, Sir Ewain!" "Welcome, Sir Ector de Maris!"

addressing each of those lords by his name.

"Damsel," quoth King Arthur, "it is very singular that you should know who

we are and that we should not know you. Now, will you not tell us your name

and whence you come and whither you go? For of a surety I believe you are

Fay."

"Lord," said the damsel, "it matters not who I am, saving that I am of the

court of a wonderful lady who is your very good friend. She hath sent me

here to meet you and to beseech you to come with me whither I shall lead

you, and I shall lead you unto her."

"Damsel," said King Arthur, "I shall be right glad to go with you as you

desire me to do. So, if you will lead me to your lady, I and my knights

will gladly follow you thitherway to pay our court unto her."

[Sidenote: King Arthur and his knights follow the damsel] Upon this the

damsel waved her hand, and drawing her bridle-rein she led the way,

accompanied by the dwarf, and King Arthur and the two knights followed her,

and all their party of foresters and huntsmen and hounds and beagles

followed them.

By this time the sun had set and the moon had risen very fair and round and

as yellow as gold, making a great light above the silent tree-tops.

Everything now was embalmed in the twilight, and all the world was

enshrouded in the mystery of the midsummer eve. Yet though the sun had gone

the light was wonderfully bright, wherefore all that the eye could see

stood sharp-cut and very clear to the vision.

So the damsel and the dwarf led the way for somewhat of a distance, though

not for so very far, until they came of a sudden to where was an open

meadow in the forest, hedged all around with the trees of the woodland. And

here the King and his knights were aware of a great bustle of many people,

some working very busily in setting up several pavilions of white samite,

and others preparing a table as for a feast, and others upon this business

and others upon that; and there were various sumpter-mules and pack-horses

and palfreys all about, as though belonging to a party of considerable

estate.

Then King Arthur and those who were with him beheld that, at some distance

away upon the other side of the meadow, there were three people sitting

under a crab-apple tree upon a couch especially prepared for them, and they

were aware that these people were the chief of all that company.

[Sidenote: King Arthur and his companions are brought to speak with strange

folk] The first party of the three was a knight of very haughty and noble

appearance, clad all in armor as white as silver; and his jupon was white

embroidered with silver, and the scabbard of the sword and the sword-belt

were white, and his shield hung in the crab-tree above him and that, too,

was all white as of silver. This knight still wore his helmet, so that his

countenance was not to be seen. The second party of the three was a lady

clad all in white raiment. Her face was covered by her wimple so that her

countenance also was not to be seen very clearly, but her garments were of

wonderful sort, being of white sarcenet embroidered over with silver in the

pattern of lily flowers. Also she wore around her breast and throat a chain

of shining silver studded with bright and sparkling gems of divers sorts.

The third party of the three was a youth of eighteen years, so beautiful of

face that it seemed to King Arthur that he had never beheld so noble a

being. For his countenance was white and shining, and his hair was as soft

as silk and as black as it was possible to be, and curled down upon his

shoulders; and his eyes were large and bright and extraordinarily black,

and his eyebrows arched so smoothly that if they had been painted they

could not have been marked upon his forehead more evenly than they were;

and his lips, which pouted a little, though not very much, were as red as

coral, and his upper lip was shaded with a soft down of black. Moreover,

this youth was clad altogether in white cloth of satin with no ornaments

whatsoever saving only a fine chain of shining silver set with opal-stones

and emeralds that hung about his neck.

Then when King Arthur approached near enough he perceived by certain signs

that the lady was the chiefest of those three, wherefore he paid his court

to her especially, saying to her: "Lady, it seems that I have been brought

hitherward unto you and that you were aware of my name and estate when you

sent for me. Now I should be exceedingly glad if you would enlighten me in

the same manner as to yourself."

"Sir," she said, "that I shall be glad to do; for if I have known you

aforetime, you have also seen me afore time and have known me as your

friend." Therewith the lady lowered the wimple from her face and King

Arthur perceived that it was the Lady of the Lake.

[Sidenote: King Arthur findeth Sir Pellias again] Upon this he kneeled

down upon one knee and took her hand and set it to his lips. "Lady," quoth

he, "I have indeed cause to know you very well, for you have, as you

affirm, been a friend to me and to my friends upon many several occasions."

Then King Arthur turned to that knight who was with that Lady of the Lake,

and he said unto him: "Messire, if I mistake not, I should know you also;

and I doubt not, if you will lift the umbril of your helmet, we shall all

three know your face." Upon this the knight without more ado lifted his

umbril as King Arthur had desired him to do and the three beheld that it

was Sir Pellias, the Gentle Knight.

Now it hath already been very fully told about Sir Pellias in the Book of

King Arthur, and those of you who read of him therein will remember, no

doubt, how sorely he was wounded in a combat with Sir Gawaine, who was his

best friend, and of how the Lady of the Lake took him to dwell with her in

that wonderful city that was hidden by the appearance as of an enchanted

lake, and of how it was Sir Gawaine who last beheld him upon that occasion.

But if Sir Gawaine was the dearest friend that Sir Pellias had at that

time, then Sir Ewain was only less dear to him. Therefore, when Sir Ewain

beheld that the strange knight was Sir Pellias, he wist not what to think

for pure wonder; for no mortal eyes had ever beheld Sir Pellias since he

had gone into the lake with the Lady of the Lake that time as foretold, and

it was not thought that anyone would ever see him again.

So when Sir Ewain beheld that the knight was Sir Pellias he emitted a great

cry of joy and ran to him and catched him in his arms, and Sir Pellias

forbade him not. For though at most times those who are of Faery do not

suffer themselves to be touched by mortal hands, yet, upon the Eve of Saint

John's Day, fairies and mortals may commune as though they were of the same

flesh and blood. Wherefore Sir Pellias did not forbid Sir Ewain, and they

embraced, as one-time brethren-in-arms should embrace. And each kissed the

other upon the face, and each made great joy the one over the other. Yea,

so great was their joy that all those who stood about were moved with pure

happiness at beholding them.

Then Sir Pellias came to King Arthur and kneeled down before him and kissed

his hand, as is the bounden duty of every knight unto his lord.

"Ha, Messire," quoth King Arthur, "methought when I beheld this lady, that

you would not be very far distant from her." Then he said unto the Lady of

the Lake: "Lady, I prithee tell me, who is this fair youth who is with you.

For methinks I never beheld before so noble and so beautiful a countenance

as his. Maybe you will make us acquainted with him also."

"Lord," said the Lady Nymue, "who he is, and of what quality, shall, I

hope, be made manifest in due time; just now I would not wish that he

should be known even unto you. But touching him, I may say that it was for

his sake that I sent my damsel to meet you at the cross-roads awhile ago.

But of that, more anon; for see! the feast is now spread which we have

prepared for your entertainment. So let us first eat and drink and make

merry together, and then we shall speak further of this matter."

[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake prepareth a feast for King Arthur] So they

all six went and sat down to the table that had been spread for them in the

open meadow-land. For the night was very pleasant and warm and a wonderful

full moon shone down upon them with a marvellous lustre, and there was a

pleasant air, soft and warm, from the forest, and, what with the scores of

bright waxen tapers that stood in silver candlesticks upon the table (each

taper sparkling as bright as any star), the night was made all illuminate

like to some singular mid-day. There was set before them a plenty of divers

savory meats and of several excellent wines, some as yellow as gold, and

some as red as carbuncle, and they ate and they drank and they made merry

in the soft moonlight with talk and laughter. Somewhiles they told Sir

Pellias and the lady of all that was toward at court at Camelot;

otherwhiles Sir Pellias and the lady told them such marvellous things

concerning the land in which they two dwelt that it would be hard to

believe that the courts of Heaven could be fairer than the courts of

Fairyland whence they had come.

Then, after the feast was ended, the Lady of the Lake said to King Arthur,

"Sir, an I have won your favor in any way, there is a certain thing I would

ask of you." To the which King Arthur made reply: "Ask it, Lady, and it

shall be granted thee, no matter what it may be." "Sir," said the Lady of

the Lake, "this is what I would ask of you. I would ask you to look upon

this youth who sits beside me. He is so dear to me that I cannot very well

make you know how dear he is. I have brought him hither from our

dwelling-place for one certain reason; to wit, that you should make him

knight. That is the great favor I would ask of you. To this intent I have

brought armor and all the appurtenances of knighthood; for he is of such

noble lineage that no armor in the world could be too good for him."

"Lady," quoth King Arthur, "I will do what you ask with much pleasure and

gladness. But, touching that armor of which you speak, it is my custom to

provide anyone whom I make a knight with armor of mine own choosing."

To this the Lady of the Lake smiled very kindly, saying, "Lord, I pray you,

let be in this case, for I daresay that the armor which hath been provided

for this youth shall be so altogether worthy of your nobility and of his

future credit that you will be entirely contented with it." And with that,

King Arthur was altogether satisfied.

[Sidenote: Of the armor, etc., of Sir Launcelot] And, touching that armor,

the ancient history that speaketh of these matters saith that it was of

such a sort as this that followeth, and that it was brought from that

enchanted court of the lake in this wise; to wit, in the front came two

youths, leading two white mules, and the mules bore two chests studded with

silver bosses. In one chest was the hauberk of that armor and in the other

were the iron boots. These were bright like to silver and were inlaid with

cunningly devised figures, all of pure gold. Next to them came two

esquires, clad in white robes and mounted upon white horses, bearing the

one a silver shield and the other a shining helmet, as of silver--it

likewise being very wonderfully inlaid with figures of pure gold. After

these came two other esquires, the one bearing a sword in a white sheath

embossed with studs of silver (the belt whereof was of silver with facets

of gold) and the other leading a white charger, whose coat was as soft and

as shining as silk. And all the gear and furniture of this horse was of

silver and of white samite embellished with silver. So from this you can

see how nobly that young acolyte was provided with all that beseemed his

future greatness. For, as you may have guessed, this youth was Launcelot,

King Ban's son of Benwick, who shortly became the greatest knight in the

world.

[Sidenote: Launcelot guards his armor at night] Now there was in that part

of the forest border a small abbey of monks, and in the chapel of that

abbey Launcelot watched his armor for that night and Sir Ewain was with him

for all that time. Meantime King Arthur and Sir Ector de Maris slept each

in a silken pavilion provided for them by the Lady of the Lake.

In the morning Sir Ewain took Launcelot to the bath and bathed him, for

such was the custom of those who were being prepared for knighthood.

Now, whilst Sir Ewain was bathing the youth, he beheld that on his shoulder

was a mark in the likeness of a golden star and he marvelled very much

thereat; but he made no mention of it at that time, but held his peace

concerning what he saw; only he marvelled very greatly thereat.

[Sidenote: King Arthur creates Sir Launcelot a Knight-Royal] Then, after

Sir Ewain had bathed Launcelot, he clothed him in raiment fitted for that

ceremony unto which he was ordained, and when the youth was so clothed, Sir

Ewain brought him to King Arthur, and King Arthur knighted Launcelot with

great ceremony, and buckled the belt around him with his own hands. After

he had done this Sir Ewain and Sir Ector de Maris set the golden spurs to

his heels, and Sir Ector wist not that he was performing such office for

his own brother.

So Sir Launcelot was made knight with great estate and ceremony, whereof I

have told you all, unto every particular. For it is fitting that all things

should be so told concerning that most great and famous knight.

After King Arthur had so dubbed Sir Launcelot knight, it was time that

those two parties should part company--to wit, the party of the Lady of the

Lake and the party of King Arthur. But when they were about to leave one

another the Lady of the Lake took Sir Launcelot aside, and she spake to him

after this manner:

[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake gives Sir Launcelot good advice]

"Launcelot, forget not that you are a king's son, and that your lineage is

as noble as that of anyone upon earth--for so I have often told you

aforetime. Wherefore, see to it that your worthiness shall be as great as

your beauty, and that your courtesy and gentleness shall be as great as

your prowess. To-day you shall go unto Camelot with King Arthur to make

yourself known unto that famous Court of Chivalry. But do not tarry there,

but, ere the night cometh, depart and go forth into the world to prove your

knighthood as worthily as God shall give you grace to do. For I would not

have you declare yourself to the world until you have proved your

worthiness by your deeds. Wherefore, do not yourself proclaim your name,

but wait until the world proclaimeth it; for it is better for the world to

proclaim the worthiness of a man than that the man should proclaim his own

worthiness. So hold yourself ready to undertake any adventure whatsoever

that God sendeth to you to do, but never let any other man complete a task

unto which you yourself have set your hand." Then, after the Lady of the

Lake had so advised Sir Launcelot, she kissed him upon the face, and

therewith gave him a ring curiously wrought and set with a wonderful purple

stone, which ring had such power that it would dissolve every enchantment.

Then she said: "Launcelot, wear this ring and never let it be from off your

finger." And Launcelot said: "I will do so." So Sir Launcelot set the ring

upon his finger and it was so that it never left his finger whilst he drew

the breath of life.

Then King Arthur and Sir Ewain and Sir Ector de Maris and the young Sir

Launcelot laid their ways toward Camelot. And, as they journeyed so

together, Sir Ewain communicated privily to Sir Ector de Maris how that the

youth had a mark as of a golden star upon the skin of his shoulder, and

upon this news Sir Ector fell very silent. For Sir Ector knew that that

sign was upon his own brother's shoulder, and he did not know how it could

be upon the shoulder of any other man. Wherefore, he wist not what to think

that it should be upon the shoulder of this youth. But he said naught of

these thoughts to Sir Ewain, but held his peace.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh to Camelot] So they reached Camelot whilst

it was still quite early in the morning and all they who were there made

great joy at the coming of so wonderfully fair and noble a young knight as

Sir Launcelot appeared to be. Wherefore, there was great sound of rejoicing

at his coming.

Then, after a while, King Arthur said: "Let us go and see if, haply, this

youth's name is marked upon any of the seats of the Round Table, for I

think it should be there." So all they of the court went to that pavilion

afore described, where the Round Table was established, and they looked;

and lo! upon the seat that King Pellinore had one time occupied was this

name:

THE KNIGHT OF THE LAKE

So the name stood at first, nor did it change until the name of Sir

Launcelot of the Lake became so famous in all the world. Then it became

changed to this:

SIR LAUNCELOT OF THE LAKE.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot becometh knight of the Round Table] So Sir

Launcelot remained at Camelot for that entire day and was made acquainted

with a great many of the lords and ladies and knights and dames of King

Arthur's court. And all that while he was like one that walked in a dream,

for he had never before beheld anything of the world of mankind since he

had been carried away into the lake, wherefore he wist not very well

whether what he saw was real or whether he beheld it in a vision of

enchantment. For it was all very new and wonderful to him and he took great

delight in it because that he was a man and because this world was the

world of mankind. Wherefore, though that Castle of the Lake was so

beautiful, yet he felt his heart go forth to this other and less beautiful

land as it did not go forth to that, because he was human and this was

human.

Nevertheless, though that was so joyful a day for him, yet Sir Launcelot

did not forget what the Lady of the Lake had said concerning the time he

was to abide there! Wherefore, when it drew toward evening he besought

leave of King Arthur to depart from that place in search of adventures, and

King Arthur gave him leave to do as he desired.

So Sir Launcelot prepared to depart, and whilst he was in his chamber

making ready there came in unto him Sir Ector de Maris. And Sir Ector said

unto him: "Sir, I prithee tell me--is it true that you bear upon your right

shoulder a mark like unto a golden star?" And Sir Launcelot made reply:

"Yea, that is true." Then Sir Ector said: "I beseech you to tell me if your

name is Launcelot." And Sir Launcelot said: "Yea, that is my name."

[Sidenote: Of the brotherhood of Sir Ector and Sir Launcelot] Upon this

Sir Ector broke out into great weeping and he catched Sir Launcelot in his

arms and he cried out: "Launcelot, thou art mine own brother! For thy

father was my father, and my mother was thy mother! For we are both sons

unto King Ban of Benwick, and Queen Helen was our mother." Therewith he

kissed Sir Launcelot with great passion upon the face. And Sir Launcelot

upon his part kissed Sir Ector with a great passion of joy that he had

found a brother in this strange world into which he had so newly come. But

Sir Launcelot charged Sir Ector that he should say nothing of this to any

man; and Sir Ector pledged his knightly word to that effect. (Nor did he

ever tell anyone who Sir Launcelot was until Sir Launcelot had performed

such deeds that all the world spake his name.)

For when Sir Launcelot went out into the world in that wise he undertook

several very weighty achievements and brought them all to a successful

issue, so that his name very quickly became known in every court of

chivalry.

[Sidenote: Of sundry adventures of Sir Launcelot] First he removed an

enchantment that overhung a castle, hight Dolorous Gard; and he freed that

castle and liberated all the sad, sorry captives that lay therein. (And

this castle he held for his own and changed the name from Dolorous Gard to

Joyous Gard and the castle became very famous afterward as his best-loved

possession. For this was the first of all his possessions that he won by

the prowess of his arms and he loved it best of all and considered it

always his home.) After that Sir Launcelot, at the bidding of Queen

Guinevere, took the part of the Lady of Nohan against the King of

Northumberland, and he overcame the King of Northumberland and made him

subject unto King Arthur. Then he overcame Sir Gallehaut, King of the

Marches, and sent him captive to the court of King Arthur (and afterward

Sir Gallehaut and Sir Launcelot became great friends for aye). So in a

little while all the world spoke of Sir Launcelot, for it was said of him,

and truly, that he had never been overcome by any other knight, whether

upon horseback or upon foot, and that he always succeeded in every

adventure which he undertook, whether that adventure were great or whether

it were small. So it was as the Lady of the Lake desired it to be, for Sir

Launcelot's name became famous, not because he was his father's son, but

because of the deeds which he performed upon his own account.

So Sir Launcelot performed all these famous adventures, and after that he

returned again to the court of King Arthur crowned with the glory of his

successful knighthood, and there he was received with joy and acclaim and

was duly installed in that seat of the Round Table that was his. And in

that court he was held in the greatest honor and esteem of all the knights

who were there. For King Arthur spake many times concerning him to this

effect: that he knew not any honor or glory that could belong to a king

greater than having such a knight for to serve him as was Sir Launcelot of

the Lake. For a knight like Sir Launcelot came hardly ever into the world,

and when he did come his glory must needs illuminate with its effulgence

the entire reign of that king whose servant he was.

So it was that Sir Launcelot was greatly honored by everybody at the court

of King Arthur, and he thereafter abided at that court for the most part of

his life.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Of Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere] And now I must needs make

mention of that friendship that existed betwixt Sir Launcelot and Queen

Guinevere, for after he thus returned to the court of the king, they two

became such friends that no two people could be greater friends than they

were.

Now I am aware that there have been many scandalous things said concerning

that friendship, but I do not choose to believe any such evil sayings. For

there are always those who love to think and say evil things of others. Yet

though it is not to be denied that Sir Launcelot never had for his lady any

other dame than the Lady Guinevere, still no one hath ever said with truth

that she regarded Sir Launcelot otherwise than as her very dear friend. For

Sir Launcelot always avouched with his knightly word, unto the last day of

his life, that the Lady Guinevere was noble and worthy in all ways,

wherefore I choose to believe his knightly word and to hold that what he

said was true. For did not he become an hermit, and did not she become a

nun in their latter days, and were they not both broken of heart when King

Arthur departed from this life in so singular a manner as he did? Wherefore

I choose to believe good of such noble souls as they, and not evil of them.

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot dwelt at Camelot] Yet, though Sir Launcelot

thus abided at the court of the King, he ever loved the open world and a

life of adventure above all things else. For he had lived so long in the

Lake that these things of the sturdy life of out-of-doors never lost their

charm for him. So, though he found, for a while, great joy in being at the

court of the King (for there were many jousts held in his honor, and,

whithersoever he rode forth, men would say to one another: "Yonder goeth

that great knight, Sir Launcelot, who is the greatest knight in the

world"), yet he longed ever to be abroad in the wide world again. So one

day he besought King Arthur for leave to depart thence and to go forth for

a while in search of adventures; and King Arthur gave him leave to do as he

desired.

So now shall be told of several excellent adventures that Sir Launcelot

undertook, and which he carried through with entire success, and to the

great glory and renown of the Round Table, of which he was the foremost

knight.

[Illustration: Sir Lionel of Britain]

Chapter Second

_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel Rode Forth Errant Together and How Sir

Lionel Met Sir Turquine to His Great Dole. Also How Sir Ector Grieved for

the Departure of His Brother Launcelot and So, Following Him, Fell into a

Very Sorry Adventure_.

Now after King Arthur had thus given Sir Launcelot leave to go errant and

whilst Sir Launcelot was making himself ready to depart there came to him

Sir Lionel, who was his cousin germain, and Sir Lionel besought leave to go

with him as his knight-companion, and Sir Launcelot gave him that leave.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel depart in search of adventure] So

when King Arthur confirmed Sir Launcelot's permission Sir Lionel also made

himself ready very joyfully, and early of the morning of the next day they

two took their leave of the court and rode away together; the day being

very fair and gracious and all the air full of the joy of that

season--which was in the flower of the spring-time.

So, about noon-tide, they came to a certain place where a great apple-tree

stood by a hedge, and by that time they had grown an-hungered. So they tied

their horses near-by in a cool and shady place and straightway sat them

down under the apple-tree in the soft tall grass, which was yet fresh with

the coolness of the morning.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot sleepeth beneath an apple-tree] Then when they

had ended their meal Sir Launcelot said: "Brother, I have a great lust to

sleep for a little space, for I find myself so drowsy that mine eyelids are

like scales of lead." Unto which Sir Lionel made reply: "Very well; sleep

thou for a while, and I will keep watch, and after that thou shalt watch,

and I will sleep for a little space." So Sir Launcelot put his helmet

beneath his head and turned upon his side, and in a little had fallen into

a sleep which had neither dream nor thought of any kind, but which was deep

and pure like to a clear well of water in the forest.

And, whilst he slept thus, Sir Lionel kept watch, walking up and down in

the shade of a hedge near-by.

[Sidenote: Sir Lionel perceives how one knight pursues three knights]

Where they were was upon the side of a hill, and beneath them was a little

valley; and a road ran through the valley, very white and shining in the

sunlight, like a silken ribbon, and the road lay between growing fields of

corn and pasture-land. Now as Sir Lionel walked beside the hedge he beheld

three knights come riding into that valley and along that road with very

great speed and in several clouds of dust; and behind them came a fourth

knight, who was very huge of frame and who was clad altogether in black

armor. Moreover, this knight rode upon a black horse and his shield was

black and his spear was black and the furniture of his horse was black, so

that everything appertaining to that knight was as black as any raven.

And Sir Lionel beheld that this one knight pursued those other three

knights and that his horse went with greater speed than theirs, so that by

and by he overtook the hindermost knight. And Sir Lionel beheld that the

sable knight smote the fleeing knight a great buffet with his sword, so

that that knight fell headlong from his horse and rolled over two or three

times upon the ground and then lay as though he were dead. Then the black

knight catched the second of the three, and served him as he had served his

fellow. Then the third of the three, finding that there was no escape for

him, turned as if to defend himself; but the black knight drave at him, and

smote him so terrible a blow that I believe had a thunderbolt smitten him

he would not have fallen from his horse more suddenly than he did. For,

though that combat was full three furlongs away, yet Sir Lionel heard the

sound of that blow as clearly as though it had been close by.

Then after the black knight had thus struck down those three knights he

went to each in turn and tied his hands behind his back. Then, lifting each

man with extraordinary ease, he laid him across the saddle of that horse

from which he had fallen, as though he were a sack of grain. And all this

Sir Lionel beheld with very great wonder, marvelling much at the strength

and prowess of that black knight. "Ha," quoth he to himself, "I will go and

inquire into this business, for it may haply be that yonder black knight

shall not find it to be so easy to deal with a knight of the Round Table as

with those other three knights."

So, with this, Sir Lionel loosed his horse very quietly and went his way so

softly that Sir Launcelot was not awakened. And after he had gone some way,

he mounted his steed and rode off at a fast gallop down into that valley.

[Sidenote: Sir Lionel addresses the sable knight] When Sir Lionel had come

to that place where the knight was, he found that he had just bound the

last of the three knights upon the saddle of his horse as aforetold. So Sir

Lionel spoke to the sable knight in this wise: "Sir, I pray you tell me

your name and degree and why you treat those knights in so shameful a

fashion as I behold you to do."

"Messire," said the black knight very fiercely, "this matter concerns you

not at all; yet I may tell you that those knights whom I have overthrown

are knights of King Arthur's court, and so I serve all such as come into

this place. So will I serve you, too, if you be a knight of King Arthur's."

"Well," said Sir Lionel, "that is a very ungracious thing for you to say.

And as for that, I too am a knight of King Arthur's court, but I do not

believe that you will serve me as you have served those three. Instead of

that, I have great hope that I shall serve you in such a fashion that I

shall be able to set these knights free from your hands."

[Sidenote: The sable knight overcomes Sir Lionel] Thereupon, without more

ado, he made him ready with spear and shield, and the black knight,

perceiving his design, also made him ready. Then they rode a little

distance apart so as to have a fair course for a tilt upon the roadway.

Then each set spur to his horse and the two drave together with such

violence that the earth shook beneath them. So they met fair in the middle

of the course, but lo! in that encounter the spear of Sir Lionel broke into

as many as thirty or forty pieces, but the spear of the black knight held,

so that Sir Lionel was lifted clean out from his saddle and over the

crupper of his horse with such violence that when he smote the ground he

rolled three times over ere he ceased to fall. And because of that fierce,

terrible blow he swooned away entirely, and all was black before his eyes,

and he knew nothing.

Therewith the black knight dismounted and tied Sir Lionel's arms behind his

back and he laid him across the saddle of his horse as he had laid those

others across the saddles of their horses; and he tied him there very

securely with strong cords so that Sir Lionel could not move.

And all this while Sir Launcelot slept beneath the apple-tree upon the

hillside, for he was greatly soothed by the melodious humming of the bees

in the blossoms above where he lay.

[Sidenote: Of Sir Turquine the sable knight] Now you are to know that he

who had thus taken Sir Lionel and those three knights prisoner was one Sir

Turquine, a very cruel, haughty knight, who had a great and strong castle

out beyond the mouth of that valley in which these knights took combat as

aforetold. Moreover, it was the custom of Sir Turquine to make prisoner all

the knights and ladies who came that way; and all the knights and ladies

who were not of King Arthur's court he set free when they had paid a

sufficient ransom unto him; but the knights who were of King Arthur's

court, and especially those who were of the Round Table, he held prisoner

for aye within his castle. The dungeon of that castle was a very cold,

dismal, and unlovely place, and it was to this prison that he proposed to

take those four knights whom he had overcome, with intent to hold them

prisoner as aforetold.

And now turn we to King Arthur's court and consider what befell there after

Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel had left it in search of adventures.

[Sidenote: Sir Ector follows Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel] When Sir Ector

found that Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel had gone away in that fashion he

was very much grieved in spirit; wherefore he said to himself, "Meseems my

brother might have taken me with him as well as our cousin." So he went to

King Arthur and besought his leave to quit the court and to ride after

those other two and to join in their adventures, and King Arthur very

cheerfully gave him that leave. So Sir Ector made him ready with all

despatch, and rode away at a great gait after Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel.

And ever as Sir Ector rode he made diligent inquiry and he found that those

two knights had ridden before him, so he said to himself: "By and by I

shall overtake them--if not to-day, at least by night, or by to-morrow

day."

[Sidenote: Sir Ector seeks adventure] But after a while he came to a

cross-roads, and there he took a way that Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel had

not taken; so that, after he had gone a distance, he found that he had

missed them by taking that road. Nevertheless, he went on until about the

prime of the day, what time he met a forester, to whom he said: "Sirrah,

saw you two knights ride this way--one knight clad in white armor with a

white shield upon which was depicted the figure of a lady, and the other

knight clad in red armor with the figure of a red gryphon upon his shield?"

"Nay," said the forester, "I saw not such folk." Then said Sir Ector, "Is

there any adventure to be found hereabouts?" Upon this the forester fell to

laughing in great measure. "Yea," he said, "there is an adventure to be

found hard by and it is one that many have undertaken and not one yet hath

ever fulfilled." Then Sir Ector said, "Tell me what that adventure is and I

will undertake it."

"Sir," said the forester, "if you will follow along yonder road for a

distance you will find a very large, strong castle surrounded by a broad

moat. In front of that castle is a stream of water with a fair, shallow

ford, where the roadway crosses the water. Upon this side of that ford

there groweth a thorn-tree, very large and sturdy, and upon it hangs a

basin of brass. Strike upon that basin with the butt of your spear, and you

shall presently meet with that adventure concerning which I have just now

spoken." "Fellow," said Sir Ector, "grammercy for your news." And,

therewith, straightway he rode off in search of that adventure.

He rode a great distance at a very fast gait and by and by he came to the

top of a hill and therewith he saw before him the mouth of a fair valley.

Across from where he stood was another hill not very large or high, but

exceedingly steep and rocky. Upon this farther hill was builded a tall,

noble castle of gray stone with many towers and spires and tall chimneys

and with several score of windows, all shining bright in the clear weather.

A fair river ran down into the mouth of that valley and it was as bright

and as smooth as silver, and on each side of it were smooth level

meadow-lands--very green--and here and there shady groves of trees and

plantations of fruit-trees. And Sir Ector perceived that the road upon

which he travelled crossed the aforesaid river by a shallow ford, and he

wist that this must be the ford whereof the forester had spoken. So he rode

down unto that ford, and when he had come nigh he perceived the thorn-tree

of which the forester had told him, and he saw that a great basin of brass

hung to the thorn-tree, just as the forester had said.

[Sidenote: Sir Ector smites upon the brazen basin] Then Sir Ector rode to

that thorn-tree and he smote upon that basin of brass with the butt of his

spear, so that the basin rang with a noise like thunder; and he smote it

again and again, several times over. But though he was aware of a great

commotion within that fair castle, yet no adventure befell him, although he

smote the brazen basin several times.

Now, his horse being athirst, Sir Ector drove him into the ford that he

might drink, and whilst he was there he was suddenly aware where, on the

other side of the stream, was a singular party coming along the roadway.

For first of all there rode a knight entirely clad in black, riding upon a

black horse, and all the harness and furniture of that horse entirely of

black. Behind him, that knight led four horses as though they were

pack-horses, and across each one of those four horses was a knight in full

armor, bound fast to the saddle like to a sack of grain, whereat Sir Ector

was very greatly astonished.

As soon as that sable knight approached the castle, several came running

forth and relieved him of those horses he led and took them into the

castle, and as soon as he had been thus relieved the sable knight rode very

violently up to where Sir Ector was. As soon as he had come to the water's

edge he cried out: "Sir Knight, come forth from out of that water and do me

battle."

"Very well," said Sir Ector, "I will do so, though it will, I think, be to

thy very great discomfort."

[Sidenote: Sir Ector essays battle with the sable knight] With that he

came quickly out from the ford, the water whereof was all broken and

churned into foam at his passing, and straightway he cast aside his spear

and drew his sword and, driving against that sable knight, he smote him

such a buffet that his horse turned twice about.

"Ha," said the black knight, "that is the best blow that ever I had struck

me in all of my life." Therewith he rushed upon Sir Ector, and without

using a weapon of any sort he catched him about the body, underneath the

arms, and dragged him clean out of his saddle, and flung him across the

horn of his own saddle. Thereupon, having accomplished this marvellous

feat, and with Sir Ector still across his saddle-bow, he rode up unto his

castle, nor stopped until he had reached the court-yard of the keep. There

he set Sir Ector down upon the stone pavement. Then he said: "Messire, thou

hast done to me this day what no other knight hath ever done to me before,

wherefore, if thou wilt promise to be my man from henceforth, I will let

thee go free and give thee great rewards for thy services as well."

But Sir Ector was filled very full of shame, wherefore he cried out

fiercely, "Rather would I lie within a prison all my life than serve so

catiff a knight as thou, who darest to treat other knights as thou hast

just now treated me."

"Well," said the black knight very grimly, "thou shalt have thy choice."

Therewith he gave certain orders, whereupon a great many fierce fellows set

upon Sir Ector and stripped him of all his armor, and immediately haled him

off, half-naked, to that dungeon aforementioned.

[Sidenote: The sable knight makes prisoner of Sir Ector] There he found

many knights of King Arthur's court, and several of the Round Table, all of

whom he knew, and when they beheld Sir Ector flung in unto them in that

fashion they lifted up their voices in great lamentation that he should

have been added to their number, instead of freeing them from their

dolorous and pitiable case. "Alas," said they, "there is no knight alive

may free us from this dungeon, unless it be Sir Launcelot. For this Sir

Turquine is, certes, the greatest knight in all the world, unless it be Sir

Launcelot."

[Illustration: Queen Morgana appears unto Sir Launcelot]

Chapter Third

_How Sir Launcelot was Found in a Sleep by Queen Morgana le Fay and Three

Other Queens who were with Her, and How He was Taken to a Castle of Queen

Morgana's and of What Befell Him There._

[Sidenote: Four Queens and their courts pass by where Sir Launcelot lies

sleeping] So Sir Launcelot lay in deep slumber under that apple-tree, and

knew neither that Sir Lionel had left him nor what ill-fortune had befallen

that good knight. Whilst he lay there sleeping in that wise there came by,

along the road, and at a little distance from him, a very fair procession

of lordly people, making a noble parade upon the highway. The chiefest of

this company were four ladies, who were four queens. With them rode four

knights, and, because the day was warm, the four knights bore a canopy of

green silk by the four corners upon the points of their lances in such wise

as to shelter those queens from the strong heat of the sun. And those four

knights rode all armed cap-a-pie on four noble war-horses, and the four

queens, bedight in great estate, rode on four white mules richly

caparisoned with furniture of divers colors embroidered with gold. After

these lordly folk there followed a very excellent court of esquires and

demoiselles to the number of a score or more; some riding upon horses and

some upon mules that ambled very easily.

Now all these folk of greater or lesser degree were entirely unaware that

Sir Launcelot lay sleeping so nigh to them as they rode by chattering very

gayly together in the spring-time weather, taking great pleasure in the

warm air, and in growing things, and the green fields, and the bright sky;

and they would have had no knowledge that the knight was there, had not Sir

Launcelot's horse neighed very lustily. Thereupon, they were aware of the

horse, and then they were aware of Sir Launcelot where he lay asleep under

the apple-tree, with his head lying upon his helmet.

Now foremost of all those queens was Queen Morgana le Fay (who was King

Arthur's sister, and a potent, wicked enchantress, of whom much hath been

told in the Book of King Arthur), and besides Queen Morgana there was the

Queen of North Wales, and the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Outer

Isles.

Now when this party of queens, knights, esquires, and ladies heard the

war-horse neigh, and when they beheld Sir Launcelot where he lay, they

drew rein and marvelled very greatly to see a knight sleeping so soundly at

that place, maugre all the noise and tumult of their passing. So Queen

Morgana called to her one of the esquires who followed after them, and she

said to him: "Go softly and see if thou knowest who is yonder knight; but

do not wake him."

[Sidenote: An esquire knoweth Sir Launcelot] So the esquire did as she

commanded; he went unto that apple-tree and he looked into Sir Launcelot's

face, and by hap he knew who it was because he had been to Camelot

erstwhiles and he had seen Sir Launcelot at that place. So he hastened back

to Queen Morgana and he said to her: "Lady, I believe that yonder knight is

none other than the great Sir Launcelot of the Lake, concerning whom there

is now such report; for he is reputed to be the most powerful of all the

knights of King Arthur's Round Table, and the greatest knight in the world,

so that King Arthur loves him and favors him above all other knights."

Now when Queen Morgana le Fay was aware that the knight who was asleep

there was Sir Launcelot, it immediately entered her mind for to lay some

powerful, malignant enchantment upon him to despite King Arthur. For she

too knew how dear Sir Launcelot was to King Arthur, and so she had a mind

to do him mischief for King Arthur's sake. So she went softly to where Sir

Launcelot lay with intent to work some such spell upon him. But when she

had come to Sir Launcelot she was aware that this purpose of mischief was

not possible whilst he wore that ring upon his finger which the Lady of the

Lake had given him; wherefore she had to put by her evil design for a

while.

[Sidenote: Queen Morgana le Fay sets a mild enchantment upon Sir

Launcelot] But though she was unable to work any malign spell upon him,

she was able to cause it by her magic that that sleep in which he lay

should remain unbroken for three or four hours. So she made certain

movements of her hands above his face and by that means she wove the

threads of his slumber so closely together that he could not break through

them to awake.

After she had done this she called to her several of the esquires who were

of her party, and these at her command fetched the shield of Sir Launcelot

and laid him upon it. Then they lifted him and bore him away, carrying him

in that manner to a certain castle in the forest that was no great distance

away. And the name of that castle was Chateaubras and it was one of Queen

Morgana's castles.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot awakens in a fair chamber] And all that while Sir

Launcelot wist nothing, but lay in a profound sleep, so that when he awoke

and looked about him he was so greatly astonished that he knew not whether

he was in a vision or whether he was awake. For whilst he had gone asleep

beneath that apple-tree, here he now lay in a fair chamber upon a couch

spread with a coverlet of flame-colored linen.

Then he perceived that it was a very fair room in which he lay, for it was

hung all about with tapestry hangings representing fair ladies at court and

knights at battle. And there were woven carpets upon the floor, and the

couch whereon he lay was of carved wood, richly gilt. There were two

windows to that chamber, and when he looked forth he perceived that the

chamber where he was was very high from the ground, being built so loftily

upon the rugged rocks at its foot that the forest lay far away beneath him

like a sea of green. And he perceived that there was but one door to this

chamber and that the door was bound with iron and studded with great bosses

of wrought iron, and when he tried that door he found that it was locked.

So Sir Launcelot was aware from these things that he was a prisoner--though

not a prisoner in a hard case--and he wist not how he had come thither nor

what had happened to him.

[Sidenote: A fair damsel beareth light and food unto Sir Launcelot] Now

when the twilight of the evening had fallen, a porter, huge of frame and

very forbidding of aspect, came and opened the door of the chamber where

Sir Launcelot lay, and when he had done so there entered a fair damsel,

bearing a very good supper upon a silver tray. Moreover, she bore upon the

tray three tapers of perfumed wax set in three silver candlesticks, and

these gave a fair light to the entire room. But, when Sir Launcelot saw the

maiden coming thus with intent to serve him, he arose and took the tray

from her and set it himself upon the table; and for this civility the

damsel made acknowledgement to him. Then she said to him: "Sir Knight, what

cheer do you have?" "Ha, damsel," said Sir Launcelot, "I do not know how to

answer you that, for I wist not what cheer to have until I know whether I

be with friends or with enemies. For though this chamber wherein I lie is

very fair and well-bedight, yet meseems I must have been brought here by

some enchantment, and that I am a prisoner in this place; wherefore I know

not what cheer to take."

[Sidenote: The damsel has pity for Sir Launcelot] Then the damsel looked

upon Sir Launcelot, and she was very sorry for him. "Sir," quoth she, "I

take great pity to see you in this pass, for I hear tell you are the best

knight in the world and, of a surety, you are of a very noble appearance. I

must tell you that this castle wherein you lie is a castle of enchantment,

and they who dwell here mean you no good; wherefore I would advise you to

be upon your guard against them."

"Maiden," said Sir Launcelot, "I give you grammercy for your kind words,

and I will be upon my guard as you advise me."

Then the damsel would have said more, but she durst not for fear that she

should be overheard and that evil should befall her, for the porter was

still without the door. So in a little she went away and Sir Launcelot was

left alone.

But though the damsel bade Sir Launcelot have good cheer, yet he had no

very good cheer for that night, as anyone may well suppose, for he wist not

what was to befall him upon the morrow.

Now when the morning had come Sir Launcelot was aware of someone at his

chamber door, and when that one entered it was Queen Morgana le Fay.

[Sidenote: How Queen Morgana cometh to Sir Launcelot] She was clad in all

the glory at her command, and her appearance was so shining and radiant

that when she came into that room Sir Launcelot knew not whether it was a

vision his eyes beheld or whether she was a creature of flesh and blood.

For she came with her golden crown upon her head, and her hair, which was

as red as gold, was bound around with ribbons of gold; and she was clad all

in cloth of gold; and she wore golden rings with jewels upon her fingers

and golden bracelets upon her arms and a golden collar around her

shoulders; wherefore, when she came into the room she shone with an

extraordinary splendor, as if she were a marvellous statue made all of pure

gold--only that her face was very soft and beautiful, and her eyes shone

exceedingly bright, and her lips, which were as red as coral, smiled, and

her countenance moved and changed with all the wiles of fascination that

she could cause it to assume.

When Sir Launcelot beheld her come thus gloriously into his room he rose

and greeted her with a very profound salutation, for he was astonished

beyond measure at beholding that shining vision. Then Queen Morgana gave

him her hand, and he kneeled, and took her jewelled fingers in his and set

her hand to his lips. "Welcome, Sir Launcelot!" quoth she; "welcome to this

place! For it is indeed a great honor to have here so noble and famous a

knight as you!"

"Ha, Lady," said Sir Launcelot, "you are gracious to me beyond measure! But

I pray you tell me how I came to this place and by what means? For when I

fell asleep yesterday at noon I lay beneath an apple-tree upon a hillside;

and when I awoke--lo! I found myself in this fair chamber."

[Sidenote: Queen Morgana seeks to beguile Sir Launcelot] To this Queen

Morgana le Fay made smiling reply as follows: "Sir, I am Queen Morgana le

Fay, of whom you may have heard tell, for I am the sister of King Arthur,

whose particular knight you are. Yesterday, at noon, riding with certain

other queens and a small court of knights, esquires, and demoiselles, we

went by where you lay sleeping. Finding you lying so, alone and without any

companion, I was able, by certain arts which I possess, to lay a gentle

enchantment upon you so that the sleep wherein you lay should remain

unbroken for three or four hours. So we brought you to this place in hopes

that you would stay with us for two or three days or more, and give us the

pleasure of your company. For your fame, which is very great, hath reached

even as far as this place, wherefore we have made a gentle prisoner of you

for this time being."

"Lady," said Sir Launcelot, "such constraint as that would be very pleasing

to me at another time. But when I fell asleep I was with my cousin, Sir

Lionel, and I know not what hath become of him, and haply he will not know

what hath become of me should he seek me. Now I pray you let me go forth

and find my cousin, and when I have done so I will return to you again at

this place with an easy spirit."

"Well, Messire," said Queen Morgana, "it shall be as you desire, only I

require of you some pledge of your return." (Herewith she drew from her

finger a golden ring set very richly with several jewels.) "Now take this

ring," she said, "and give me that ring which I see upon your finger, and

when you shall return hither each shall have his ring again from the

other."

"Lady," said Sir Launcelot, "that may not be. For this ring was placed upon

my finger with such a pledge that it may never leave where it is whilst my

soul abideth in my body. Ask of me any other pledge and you shall have it;

but I cannot give this ring to you."

[Sidenote: Queen Morgana hath anger for Sir Launcelot] Upon this Queen

Morgana's cheeks grew very red, and her eyes shone like sparks of fire.

"Ha, Sir Knight," she said, "I do not think you are very courteous to

refuse a lady and a queen so small a pledge as that. I am much affronted

with you that you should have done so. Wherefore, I now demand of you, as

the sister of King Arthur whom you serve, that you give me that ring."

"Lady," said Sir Launcelot, "I may not do that, though it grieveth me much

to refuse you."

Then Queen Morgana looked at Sir Launcelot awhile with a very angry

countenance, but she perceived that she was not to have her will with him,

wherefore she presently turned very quickly and went out of the room,

leaving Sir Launcelot much perturbed in spirit. For he knew how great were

the arts of Queen Morgana le Fay, and he could not tell what harm she might

seek to work upon him by those arts. But he ever bore in mind how that the

ring which he wore was sovereign against such malignant arts as she

practised, wherefore he took what comfort he could from that circumstance.

Nevertheless, he abode in that chamber in great uncertainty for all that

day, and when night came he was afraid to let himself slumber, lest they of

the castle should come whilst he slept and work him some secret ill;

wherefore he remained awake whilst all the rest of the castle slept. Now at

the middle of the night, and about the time of the first cock-crow, he was

aware of a sound without and a light that fell through the crack of the

door. Then, in a little, the door was opened and there entered that young

damsel who had served him with his supper the night before, and she bare a

lighted taper in her hand.

[Sidenote: The damsel cometh again to Sir Launcelot] When Sir Launcelot

perceived that damsel he said: "Maiden, do you come hither with good intent

or with evil intent?" "Sir," she said, "I come with good intent, for I take

great pity to see you in such a sorry case as this. I am a King's daughter

in attendance upon Queen Morgana le Fay, but she is so powerful an

enchantress that, in good sooth, I am in great fear lest she some time do

me an ill-hap. So to-morrow I leave her service and return unto my father's

castle. Meantime, I am of a mind to help you in your adversity. For Queen

Morgana trusts me, and I have knowledge of this castle and I have all the

keys thereof, wherefore I can set you free. And I will set you free if you

will, upon your part, serve me in a way that you can very easily do."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "provided I may serve you in a way fitting my

knightly honor, I shall be glad to do so under any condition. Now I pray

you tell me what it is you would have of me."

[Sidenote: The damsel speaketh to Sir Launcelot of her father, King

Bagdemagus] "Sir," said the damsel, "my father hath made a tournament

betwixt him and the King of North Wales upon Tuesday next, and that is just

a fortnight from this day. Now, already my father hath lost one such a

tournament, for he hath no very great array of knights upon his side, and

the King of North Wales hath three knights of King Arthur's Round Table to

aid his party. Because of the great help of these knights of the Round

Table, the King of North Wales won the last tournament and my father lost

it, and now he feareth to lose the tournament that is to be. Now if you

will enter upon my father's side upon the day of the tournament, I doubt

not that he shall win that tournament; for all men say that you are the

greatest knight in the world at this time. So if you will promise to help

my father and will seal that promise with your knightly word, then will I

set you free of this castle of enchantment."

"Fair maiden," said Sir Launcelot, "tell me your name and your father's

name, for I cannot give you my promise until I know who ye be."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot promises to aid King Bagdemagus] "Sir," said the

demoiselle, "I am called Elouise the Fair, and my father is King

Bagdemagus." "Ha!" quoth Sir Launcelot, "I know your father, and I know

that he is a good king and a very worthy knight besides. If you did me no

service whatsoever, I would, at your simple asking, were I free of this

place, lend him such aid as it is in my power to give."

At this the damsel took great joy and gave Sir Launcelot thanks beyond

measure. So they spoke together as to how that matter might be brought

about so that Sir Launcelot should be brought to talk to King Bagdemagus.

And the damsel Elouise said: "Let it be this way, Sir Launcelot.

Imprimis--thou art to know that somewhat of a long distance to the

westward of that place where thou didst fall asleep yesterday, there

standeth a very large, fair abbey known as the Abbey of Saint James the

Lesser. This abbey is surrounded by an exceedingly noble estate that lieth

all around about it so that no man that haps in that part of the country

can miss it if he make inquiry for it. Now I will go and take lodging at

that abbey a little while after I leave this place. So when it suits thee

to do so, come thou thither and thou wilt find me there and I will bring

thee to my father."

"Very well," said Sir Launcelot, "let it be that way. I will come to that

place in good time for the tournament. Meantime, I prithee, rest in the

assurance that I shall never forgot thy kindness to me this day, nor thy

gracious behavior and speech unto me. Wherefore I shall deem it not a duty

but a pleasure to serve thee."

[Sidenote: The damsel bringeth Sir Launcelot to freedom] So, having

arranged all these matters, the damsel Elouise opened the door of that room

and led Sir Launcelot out thence; and she led him through various passages

and down several long flights of steps, and so brought him at last unto a

certain chamber, where was his armor. Then the damsel helped Sir Launcelot

to encase him in his armor, so that in a little while he was altogether

armed as he had been when he fell asleep under that apple-tree. Thereafter

the damsel brought him out past the court-yard and unto the stable where

was Sir Launcelot's horse, and the horse knew him when he came. So he

saddled the horse by the light of a half-moon which sailed like a boat high

up in the sky through the silver, floating clouds, and therewith he was

ready to depart. Then the damsel opened the gate and he rode out into the

night, which was now drawing near the dawning of the day.

Thus Elouise the Fair aided Sir Launcelot to escape from that castle of

enchantment, where else great ill might have befallen him.

* * * * *

And now it shall be told how Sir Launcelot did battle with Sir Turquine and

of what happened thereat.

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot doeth battle with Sir Turquine]

Chapter Fourth

_How Sir Launcelot Sought Sir Lionel and How a Young Damsel Brought Him to

the Greatest Battle that Ever He Had in All His Life_.

So Sir Launcelot rode through the forest, and whilst he rode the day began

to break. About sunrise he came out into an open clearing where certain

charcoal-burners were plying their trade.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot breaks his fast in the forest] To these rude

fellows he appeared out of the dark forest like some bright and shining

vision; and they made him welcome and offered him to eat of their food, and

he dismounted and sat down with them and brake his fast with them. And when

he had satisfied his hunger, he gave them grammercy for their

entertainment, and took horse and rode away.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh again to the place of the apple-tree] He

made forward until about the middle of the morning, what time he came

suddenly upon that place where, two days before, he had fallen asleep

beneath the blooming apple-tree. Here he drew rein and looked about him for

a considerable while; for he thought that haply he might find some trace of

Sir Lionel thereabouts. But there was no trace of him, and Sir Launcelot

wist not what had become of him.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot perceives a damsel upon a palfrey] Now whilst Sir

Launcelot was still there, not knowing what to do to find Sir Lionel, there

passed that way a damsel riding upon a white palfrey. Unto her Sir

Launcelot made salutation, and she made salutation to him and asked him

what cheer. "Maiden," said Sir Launcelot, "the cheer that I have is not

very good, seeing that I have lost my companion-at-arms and know not where

he is." Then he said: "Did you haply meet anywhere with a knight with the

figure of a red gryphon upon his shield?" whereunto the damsel answered:

"Nay, I saw none such." Then Sir Launcelot said: "Tell me, fair damsel,

dost thou know of any adventure hereabouts that I may undertake? For, as

thou seest, I am errant and in search of such."

Upon this the damsel fell a-laughing: "Yea, Sir Knight," said she, "I know

of an adventure not far away, but it is an adventure that no knight yet

that ever I heard tell of hath accomplished. I can take thee to that

adventure if thou hast a desire to pursue it."

"Why should I not pursue it," said Sir Launcelot, "seeing that I am here

for that very cause--to pursue adventure?"

"Well," said the damsel, "then come with me, Sir Knight, I will take thee

to an adventure that shall satisfy thee."

[Sidenote: The damsel leads Sir Launcelot to an adventure] So Sir

Launcelot and that damsel rode away from that place together; he upon his

great war-horse and she upon her ambling palfrey beside him. And the sun

shone down upon them, very pleasant and warm, and all who passed them

turned to look after them; for the maiden was very fair and slender, and

Sir Launcelot was of so noble and stately a mien that few could behold him

even from a distance without looking twice or three times upon him. And as

they travelled in that way together they fell into converse, and the damsel

said to Sir Launcelot: "Sir, thou appearest to be a very good knight, and

of such a sort as may well undertake any adventure with great hope of

success. Now I prithee to tell me thy name and what knight thou art."

"Fair maiden," said Sir Launcelot, "as for telling you my name, that I will

gladly do. I am called Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I am a knight of King

Arthur's court and of his Round Table."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and the maiden discourse together] At this the

damsel was very greatly astonished and filled with admiration. "Hah!" quoth

she, "it is a great pleasure to me to fall in with you, Sir Launcelot, for

all the world now bespeaketh your fame. Little did I ever think to behold

your person, much less speak with you, and ride in this way with you. Now I

will tell you what this adventure is on which we are set; it is this--there

is, some small distance from this, a castle of a knight hight Sir Turquine,

who hath in his prison a great many knights of King Arthur's court, and

several knights of his Round Table. These knights he keepeth there in great

dole and misery, for it is said that their groans may be heard by the

passers along the high-road below the castle. This Sir Turquine is held to

be the greatest knight in the world (unless it be thou) for he hath never

yet been overcome in battle, whether a-horseback or a-foot. But, indeed, I

think it to be altogether likely that thou wilt overcome him."

"Fair damsel," quoth Sir Launcelot, "I too have hope that I shall hold mine

own with him, when I meet him, and to that I shall do my best endeavor. Yet

this and all other matters are entirely in the hands of God."

Then the damsel said, "If you should overcome this Sir Turquine, I know of

still another adventure which, if you do not undertake it, I know of no one

else who may undertake to bring it to a successful issue."

Quoth Sir Launcelot, "I am glad to hear of that or of any other adventure,

for I take great joy in such adventuring. Now, tell me, what is this other

adventure?"

[Sidenote: The maiden tells Sir Launcelot of the savage forest knight]

"Sir," said the damsel, "a long distance to the west of this there is a

knight who hath a castle in the woods and he is the evilest disposed knight

that ever I heard tell of. For he lurks continually in the outskirts of the

woods, whence he rushes forth at times upon those who pass by. Especially

he is an enemy to all ladies of that country, for he hath taken many of

them prisoners to his castle and hath held them in the dungeon thereof for

ransom; and sometimes he hath held them for a long while. Now I am fain

that thou undertake that adventure for my sake."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "I believe it would be a good thing for any

knight to do to rid the world of such an evil-disposed knight as that, so

if I have the good fortune to overcome this Sir Turquine, I give my

knightly word that I will undertake this adventure for thy sake, if so be

thou wilt go with me for to show me the way to his castle."

"That I will do with all gladness," said the damsel, "for it is great pride

for any lady to ride with you upon such an adventure."

Thus they talked, and all was arranged betwixt them. And thus they rode

very pleasantly through that valley for the distance of two leagues or a

little more, until they came to that place where the road crossed the

smooth stream of water afore told of; and there was the castle of Sir

Turquine as afore told of; and there was the thorn-bush and the basin

hanging upon the thorn-bush as afore told of. Then the maiden said: "Sir

Launcelot, beat upon that basin and so thou shalt summon Sir Turquine to

battle with thee."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot smites upon the basin] So Sir Launcelot rode to

that basin where it hung and he smote upon it very violently with the butt

of his spear. And he smote upon that basin again and again until he smote

the bottom from out it; but at that time immediately no one came.

Then, after a while, he was ware of one who came riding toward him, and he

beheld that he who came riding was a knight very huge of frame, and long

and strong of limb. And he beheld that the knight was clad entirely in

black, and that the horse upon which he rode and all the furniture of the

horse was black. And he beheld that this knight drave before him another

horse, and that across the saddle of that other horse there lay an armed

knight, bound hand and foot; and Sir Launcelot wist that the sable knight

who came riding was that Sir Turquine whom he sought.

[Sidenote: The sable knight bringeth Sir Gaheris captive] So Sir Turquine

came very rapidly along the highway toward where Sir Launcelot sat, driving

that other horse and the captive knight before him all the while. And as

they came nearer and nearer Sir Launcelot thought that he should know who

the wounded knight was and when they came right close, so that he could see

the markings of the shield of that captive knight, he wist that it was Sir

Gaheris, the brother of Sir Gawaine, and the nephew of King Arthur, whom

Sir Turquine brought thither in that wise.

At this Sir Launcelot was very wroth; for he could not abide seeing a

fellow-knight of the Round Table treated with such disregard as that which

Sir Gaheris suffered at the hands of Sir Turquine; wherefore Sir Launcelot

rode to meet Sir Turquine, and he cried out: "Sir Knight! put that wounded

man down from his horse, and let him rest for a while, and we two will

prove our strength, the one against the other! For it is a shame for thee

to treat a noble knight of the Round Table with such despite as thou art

treating that knight."

"Sir," said Sir Turquine, "as I treat that knight, so treat I all knights

of the Round Table--and so will I treat thee if thou be of the Round

Table."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "as for that, I am indeed of the Round Table,

and I have come hither for no other reason than for to do battle with

thee."

"Sir Knight," said Sir Turquine, "thou speakest very boldly; now I pray

thee to tell me what knight thou art and what is thy name."

"Messire," said Sir Launcelot, "I have no fear to do that. I am called Sir

Launcelot of the Lake, and I am a knight of King Arthur's, who made me

knight with his own hand."

"Ha!" said Sir Turquine, "that is very good news to me, for of all knights

in the world thou art the one I most desire to meet, for I have looked for

thee for a long while with intent to do battle with thee. For it was thou

who didst slay my brother Sir Caradus at Dolorous Gard, who was held to be

the best knight in all the world. Wherefore, because of this, I have the

greatest despite against thee of any man in the world, and it was because

of that despite that I waged particular battle against all the knights of

King Arthur's court. And in despite of thee I now hold five score and eight

knights, who are thy fellows, in the dismallest dungeon of my castle. Also

I have to tell thee that among those knights is thine own brother, Sir

Ector, and thy kinsman, Sir Lionel. For I overthrew Sir Ector and Sir

Lionel only a day or two ago, and now they lie almost naked in the lower

parts of that castle yonder. I will put down this knight as thou biddst me,

and when I have done battle with thee I hope to tie thee on his

saddle-horn in his place."

So Sir Turquine loosed the cords that bound Sir Gaheris and set him from

off the horse's back, and Sir Gaheris, who was sorely wounded and very

weak, sat him down upon a slab of stone near-by.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Sir Turquine do battle together] Then Sir

Launcelot and Sir Turquine made themselves ready at all points, and each

took such stand as seemed to him to be best; and when each was ready for

the assault, each set spurs to his horse and rushed the one against the

other with such terrible violence that they smote together like a clap of

thunder.

So fierce was that onset that each horse fell back upon the ground and only

by great skill and address did the knight who rode him void his saddle, so

as to save himself from a fall. And in that meeting the horse of Sir

Turquine was killed outright and the back of Sir Launcelot's horse was

broken and he could not rise, but lay like dead upon the ground.

Then each knight drew his sword and set his shield before him and they came

together with such wrath that it appeared as though their fierce eyes shot

sparks of fire through the oculariums of their helmets. So they met and

struck; and they struck many scores of times, and their blows were so

violent that neither shield nor armor could withstand the strokes they

gave. For their shields were cleft and many pieces of armor were hewn from

their limbs, so that the ground was littered with them. And each knight

gave the other so many grim wounds that the ground presently was all

sprinkled with red where they stood.

Now that time the day had waxed very hot, for it was come high noontide, so

presently Sir Turquine cried out: "Stay thee, Sir Launcelot, for I have a

boon to ask!" At this Sir Launcelot stayed his hand and said: "What is it

thou hast to ask, Sir Knight?" Sir Turquine said: "Messire, I am

athirst--let me drink." And Sir Launcelot said: "Go and drink."

So Sir Turquine went to that river and entered into that water, which was

presently stained with red all about him. And he stooped where he stood and

drank his fill, and presently came forth again altogether refreshed.

Therewith he took up his sword once more and rushed at Sir Launcelot and

smote with double strength, so that Sir Launcelot bent before him and had

much ado to defend himself from these blows.

Then by and by Sir Launcelot waxed faint upon his part and was athirst, and

he cried out: "I crave of thee a boon, Sir Knight!" "What wouldst thou

have?" said Sir Turquine. "Sir Knight," said Sir Launcelot, "bide while I

drink, for I am athirst." "Nay," said Sir Turquine, "thou shalt not drink

until thou quenchest thy thirst in Paradise." "Ha!" cried Sir Launcelot,

"thou art a foul churl and no true knight. For when thou wert athirst, I

let thee drink; and now that I am athirst, thou deniest me to quench my

thirst."

Therewith he was filled with such anger that he was like one gone wode;

wherefore he flung aside his shield and took his sword in both hands and

rushed upon Sir Turquine and smote him again and again; and the blows he

gave were so fierce that Sir Turquine waxed somewhat bewildered and bore

aback, and held his shield low for faintness.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overcometh Sir Turquine] Then when Sir Launcelot

beheld that Sir Turquine was faint in that wise, he rushed upon him and

catched him by the beaver of his helmet and pulled him down upon his knees.

And Sir Launcelot rushed Sir Turquine's helmet from off his head. And he

lifted his sword and smote Sir Turquine's head from off his shoulders, so

that it rolled down upon the ground.

Then for a while Sir Launcelot stood there panting for to catch his breath

after that sore battle, for he was nearly stifled with the heat and fury

thereof. Then he went down into the water, and he staggered like a drunken

man as he went, and the water ran all red at his coming. And Sir Launcelot

stooped and slaked his thirst, which was very furious and hot.

Thereafter he came up out of the water again, all dripping, and he went to

where the damsel was and he said to her; "Damsel, lo, I have overcome Sir

Turquine; now I am ready to go with thee upon that other adventure, as I

promised thee I would."

At this the damsel was astonished beyond measure, wherefore she cried:

"Sir, thou art sorely hurt, and in need of rest for two or three days, and

maybe a long time more, until thy wounds are healed."

"Nay," said Sir Launcelot, "no need to wait; I will go with thee now."

Then Sir Launcelot went to Sir Gaheris--for Sir Gaheris had been sitting

for all that while upon that slab of stone. Sir Launcelot said to Sir

Gaheris: "Fair Lord, be not angry if I take your horse, for I must

presently go with this damsel, and you see mine own horse hath broke his

back."

"Sir Knight," said Sir Gaheris, "this day you have saved both me and my

horse, wherefore it is altogether fitting that my horse or anything that is

mine should be yours to do with as you please. So I pray you take my horse,

only tell me your name and what knight you are; for I swear by my sword

that I never saw any knight in all the world do battle so wonderfully as

you have done to-day."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot makes himself known to Sir Gaheris] "Sir," said

Sir Launcelot, "I am called Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I am a knight of

King Arthur's. So it is altogether fitting that I should do such service

unto you as this, seeing that you are the brother of that dear knight, Sir

Gawaine. For if I should not do this battle that I have done for your sake,

I should yet do it for the sake of my lord, King Arthur, who is your uncle

and Sir Gawaine's uncle."

Now when Sir Gaheris heard who Sir Launcelot was, he made great exclamation

of amazement. "Ha, Sir Launcelot!" he cried, "and is it thou! Often have I

heard of thee and of thy prowess at arms! I have desired to meet thee more

than any knight in the world; but never did I think to meet thee in such a

case as this." Therewith Sir Gaheris arose, and went to Sir Launcelot, and

Sir Launcelot came to him and they met and embraced and kissed one another

upon the face; and from that time forth they were as brethren together.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot bids Sir Gaheris to free the castle captives]

Then Sir Launcelot said to Sir Gaheris: "I pray you, Lord, for to go up

unto yonder castle, and bring succor to those unfortunates who lie therein.

For I think you will find there many fellow-knights of the Round Table. And

I believe that you will find therein my brother, Sir Ector, and my cousin,

Sir Lionel. And if you find any other of my kindred I pray you to set them

free and to do what you can for to comfort them and to put them at their

ease. And if there is any treasure in that castle, I bid you give it unto

those knights who are prisoners there, for to compensate them for the pains

they have endured. Moreover, I pray you tell Sir Ector and Sir Lionel not

to follow after me, but to return to court and wait for me there, for I

have two adventures to undertake and I must essay them alone."

Then Sir Gaheris was very much astonished, and he cried out upon Sir

Launcelot: "Sir! Sir! Surely you will not go forth upon another adventure

at this time, seeing that you are so sorely wounded."

But Sir Launcelot said: "Yea, I shall go now; for I do not think that my

wounds are so deep that I shall not be able to do my devoirs when my time

cometh to do them."

At this Sir Gaheris was amazed beyond measure, for Sir Launcelot was very

sorely wounded, and his armor was much broken in that battle, wherefore Sir

Gaheris had never beheld a person who was so steadfast of purpose as to do

battle in such a case.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot departs with the damsel] So Sir Launcelot mounted

Sir Gaheris' horse and rode away with that young damsel, and Sir Gaheris

went to the castle as Sir Launcelot had bidden him to do.

[Sidenote: Sir Gaheris frees the castle captives] In that castle he found

five score and eight prisoners in dreadful case, for some who were there

had been there for a long time, so that the hair of them had grown down

upon their shoulders, and their beards had grown down upon their breasts.

And some had been there but a short time, as was the case of Sir Lionel and

Sir Ector. But all were in a miserable sorry plight; and all of those sad

prisoners but two were knights of King Arthur's court, and eight of them

were knights of the Round Table. All these crowded around Sir Gaheris, for

they saw that he was wounded and they deemed that it was he had set them

free, wherefore they gave him thanks beyond measure.

"Not so," said Sir Gaheris, "it was not I who set you free; it was Sir

Launcelot of the Lake. He overcame Sir Turquine in such a battle as I never

before beheld. For I saw that battle with mine own eyes, being at a little

distance seated upon a stone slab and wounded as you see. And I make my

oath that I never beheld so fierce and manful a combat in all of my life.

But now your troubles are over and done, and Sir Launcelot greets you all

with words of good cheer and bids me tell you to take all ease and comfort

that you can in being free, and in especial he bids me greet you, Sir

Ector, and you, Sir Lionel, and to tell you that you are to follow him no

farther, but to return to court and bide there until he cometh; for he

goeth upon an adventure which he must undertake by himself."

[Sidenote: Sir Lionel and Sir Ector and Sir Kay follow after Sir

Launcelot] "Not so," said Sir Lionel, "I will follow after him, and find

him." And so said Sir Ector likewise, that he would go and find Sir

Launcelot. Then Sir Kay the Seneschal said that he would ride with those

two; so the three took horse and rode away together to find Sir Launcelot.

As for those others, they ransacked throughout the castle of Sir Turquine,

and they found twelve treasure-chests full of treasure, both of silver and

of gold, together with many precious jewels; and they found many bales of

cloth of silk and of cloth of gold. So, as Sir Launcelot had bid them do

so, they divided the treasure among themselves, setting aside a part for

Sir Ector and a part for Sir Lionel and a part for Sir Kay. Then, whereas

before they had been mournful, now they were joyful at having been made so

rich with those precious things.

Thus happily ended that great battle with Sir Turquine which was very

likely the fiercest and most dolorous fight that ever Sir Launcelot had in

all of his life. For, unless it was Sir Tristram, he never found any other

knight so big as Sir Turquine except Sir Galahad, who was his own son.

And now it shall be told how Sir Launcelot fared upon that adventure which

he had promised the young damsel to undertake.

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot sits with Sir Hilaire and Croisette]

Chapter Fifth

_How Sir Launcelot Went Upon an Adventure with the Damsel Croisette as

Companion, and How He Overcame Sir Peris of the Forest Sauvage._

Now after Sir Launcelot had finished that battle with Sir Turquine as

aforetold, and when he had borrowed the horse of Sir Gaheris, he rode away

from that place of combat with the young damsel, with intent to carry out

the other adventure which he had promised her to undertake.

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot's wounds pain him] But though he rode with

her, yet, for a while, he said very little to her, for his wounds ached him

sorely and he was in a great deal of pain. So, because of this, he had

small mind to talk, but only to endure what he had to endure with as much

patience as he might command. And the damsel upon her part was somewhat

aware of what Sir Launcelot was suffering and she was right sorry for him,

wherefore she did not trouble him with idle discourse at that moment, but

waited for a while before she spake.

Then by and by she said to him: "Messire, I would that thou wouldst rest

for some days, and take thine ease, and have thy wounds searched and

dressed, and have thy armor looked to and redded. Now there is a castle at

some distance from this, and it is my brother's castle, and thither we may

go in a little pass. There thou mayst rest for this night and take thine

ease. For I know that my brother will be wonderfully glad to see thee

because thou art so famous."

Then Sir Launcelot turned his eyes upon the damsel: "Fair maiden," quoth

he, "I make confession that I do in sooth ache a very great deal, and that

I am somewhat aweary with the battle I have endured this day. Wherefore I

am very well content to follow thy commands in this matter. But I prithee,

damsel, tell me what is thy name, for I know not yet how thou art called."

"Sir," she said, "I am called Croisette of the Dale, and my brother is

called Sir Hilaire of the Dale, and it is to his castle that I am about to

take thee to rest for this time."

Then Sir Launcelot said: "I go with thee, damsel, wherever it is thy will

to take me."

[Sidenote: Of how Sir Launcelot and the damsel ride together] So they two

rode through that valley at a slow pace and very easily. And toward the

waning of the afternoon they left the valley by a narrow side way, and so

in a little while came into a shallow dale, very fertile and smiling, but

of no great size. For the more part that dale was all spread over with

fields and meadow-lands, with here and there a plantation of trees in full

blossom and here and there a farm croft. A winding river flowed down

through the midst of this valley, very quiet and smooth, and brimming its

grassy banks, where were alder and sedge and long rows of pollard willows

overreaching the water.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Croisette come to a fair valley] At the

farther end of the valley was a castle of very comely of appearance, being

built part of stone and part of bright red bricks; and the castle had many

windows of glass and tall chimneys, some a-smoke. About the castle and nigh

to it was a little village of thatched cottages, with many trees in blossom

and some without blossom shading the gables of the small houses that took

shelter beneath them.

Now when Sir Launcelot and Croisette came into that little valley it was at

the declining of the day and the sky was all alight with the slanting sun,

and the swallows were flying above the smooth shining surface of the river

in such multitudes that it was wonderful to behold them. And the lowing

herds were winding slowly along by the river in their homeward way, and all

was so peaceful and quiet that Sir Launcelot drew rein for pure pleasure,

and sat for some while looking down upon that fair, happy dale. Then by and

by he said: "Croisette, meseems I have never beheld so sweet and fair a

country as this, nor one in which it would be so pleasant to live."

Upon this Croisette was very much pleased, and she smiled upon Sir

Launcelot. "Think you so, Sir Launcelot?" quoth she. "Well, in sooth, I am

very glad that this valley pleasures you; for I love it beyond any other

place in all the world. For here was I born and here was I raised in that

castle yonder. For that is my brother's castle and it was my father's

castle before his time; wherefore meseems that no place in all the world

can ever be so dear to my heart as this dale."

[Sidenote: Croisette bringeth Sir Launcelot to her brother's house]

Thereupon they went forward up that little valley, and along by the

smoothly flowing river, and the farther they went the more Sir Launcelot

took pleasure in all that he beheld. Thus they came through the pretty

village where the folk stood and watched with great admiration how that

noble knight rode that way; and so they came to the castle and rode into

the court-yard thereof. Then presently there came the lord of that castle,

who was Sir Hilaire of the Dale. And Sir Hilaire greeted Sir Launcelot,

saying: "Welcome, Sir Knight. This is great honor you do me to come into

this quiet dale with my sister, for we do not often have with us travellers

of such quality as you."

"Brother," said Croisette, "you may well say that it is an honor to have

this knight with us, for this is none other knight than the great Sir

Launcelot of the Lake. This day I beheld him overcome Sir Turquine in fair

and honorable battle. So he doth indeed do great honor for to visit us in

this wise."

Then Sir Hilaire looked at Sir Launcelot very steadily, and he said: "Sir

Launcelot, your fame is so great that it hath reached even unto this

peaceful outland place; wherefore it shall not soon be forgotten here how

you came hither. Now, I pray you, come in and refresh yourself, for I see

that you are wounded and I doubt not you are weary."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot is made at ease] Upon this several attendants

came, and they took Sir Launcelot and led him to a pleasant chamber. There

they unarmed him and gave him a bath in tepid water, and there came a leech

and searched his wounds and dressed them. Then those in attendance upon him

gave him a soft robe of cloth of velvet, and when Sir Launcelot had put it

on he felt much at ease, and in great comfort of body.

By and by, when evening had fallen, a very good, excellent feast was spread

in the hall of the castle, and there sat down thereto Sir Launcelot and Sir

Hilaire and the damsel Croisette. As they ate they discoursed of various

things, and Sir Launcelot told many things concerning his adventures, so

that all who were there were very quiet, listening to what he said. For it

was as though he were a visitor come to them from some other world, very

strange and distant, of which they had no knowledge, wherefore they all

listened so as not to lose a single word of what he told them. So that

evening passed very pleasantly, and Sir Launcelot went to his bed with

great content of spirit.

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot abides at the castle of Sir Hilaire] So Sir

Launcelot abided for several days in that place until his wounds were

healed. Then one morning, after they had all broken their fast, he made

request that he and the damsel might be allowed to depart upon that

adventure which he had promised her to undertake, and unto this Sir Hilaire

gave his consent.

Now, during this while, Sir Launcelot's armor had been so pieced and mended

by the armor-smiths of that castle that when he donned it it was, in a

measure, as sound as it had ever been, and of that Sir Launcelot was very

glad. So having made ready in all ways he and Croisette took leave of that

place, and all they who were there bade them adieu and gave Sir Launcelot

God-speed upon that adventure.

Now some while after they left that dale they rode through a very ancient

forest, where the sod was exceedingly soft underfoot and silent to the

tread of the horses, and where it was very full of bursting foliage

overhead. And as they rode at an easy pace through that woodland place they

talked of many things in a very pleasant and merry discourse.

Quoth the damsel unto Sir Launcelot: "Messire, I take very great wonder

that thou hast not some special lady for to serve in all ways as a knight

should serve a lady."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Croisette discourse together] "Ha, damsel,"

said Sir Launcelot, "I do serve a lady in that manner and she is peerless

above all other ladies; for that lady is the Lady Guinevere, who is King

Arthur's queen. Yet though I am her servant I serve her from a very great

distance. For in serving her I am like one who standeth upon the earth, yet

looketh upward ever toward the bright and morning star. For though such an

one may delight in that star from a distance, yet may he never hope to

reach an altitude whereon that star standeth."

"Heyday!" quoth Croisette, "for that matter, there are other ways of

serving a lady than that wise. Were I a knight meseems I would rather serve

a lady nearer at hand than at so great distance as that of which thou

speakest. For in most cases a knight would rather serve a lady who may

smile upon him nigh at hand, and not stand so far off from him as a star in

the sky." But to this Sir Launcelot made no reply but only smiled. Then in

a little Croisette said: "Dost thou never think of a lady in that wise, Sir

Launcelot?"

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot speaketh of the Lady Guinevere] "Nay," said Sir

Launcelot, "and neither do I desire so to serve any lady. For it is thus

with me, Croisette--for all that while of my life until I was eighteen

years of age I lived in a very wonderful land beneath a magical lake, of

which I may not tell thee. Then I came out of that lake and into this world

and King Arthur made me a knight. Now because I was so long absent from

this world of mankind and never saw aught of it until I was grown into a

man, meseems I love that world so greatly that I cannot tell thee how

beautiful and wonderful it seems to me. For it is so wonderful and so

beautiful that methinks my soul can never drink its fill of the pleasures

thereof. Yea; methinks I love every blade of grass upon the fields, and

every leaf upon every tree: and that I love everything that creepeth or

that flyeth, so that when I am abroad under the sky and behold those things

about me I am whiles like to weep for very joy of them. Wherefore it is,

Croisette, that I would rather be a knight-errant in this world which I

love so greatly than to be a king seated upon a throne with a golden crown

upon my head and all men kneeling unto me. Yea; meseems that because of my

joy in these things I have no room in my heart for such a love of lady as

thou speakest of, but only for the love of knight-errantry, and a great

wish for to make this world in which I now live the better and the happier

for my dwelling in it. Thus it is, Croisette, that I have no lady for to

serve in the manner thou speakest of. Nor will I ever have such, saving

only the Lady Guinevere, the thought of whom standeth above me like that

bright star afore spoken of."

"Ha," quoth Croisette, "then am I sad for the sake of some lady, I know not

who. For if thou wert of another mind thou mightest make some lady very

glad to have so great a knight as thou art to serve her." Upon this Sir

Launcelot laughed with a very cheerful spirit, for he and the damsel were

grown to be exceedingly good friends, as you may suppose from such

discourse as this.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot perceives the Castle of Sir Peris] So they wended

their way in this fashion until somewhat after the prime of day, and by

that time they had come out of that forest and into a very rugged country.

For this place into which they were now come was a sort of rocky valley,

rough and bare and in no wise beautiful. When they had entered into it they

perceived, a great way off, a castle built up upon the rocks. And that

castle was built very high, so that the roofs and the chimneys thereof

stood wonderfully sharp and clear against the sky; yet the castle was so

distant that it looked like a toy which you might easily take into your

hand and hold betwixt your fingers.

Then Croisette said to Sir Launcelot: "Yonder is the castle of that

evil-minded knight of whom I spake to thee yesterday, and his name is Sir

Peris of the Forest Sauvage. Below that castle, where the road leads into

that woodland, there doth he lurk to seize upon wayfarers who come

thitherward. And indeed he is a very catiff knight, for, though he is

strong and powerful, he doth not often attack other knights, but only

ladies and demoiselles who come hither. For these he may take captive

without danger to himself. For I believe that though he is so big of frame

yet is he a coward in his heart."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot advises Croisette what to do] Then Sir Launcelot

sat for a while and regarded that castle, and fell into thought; and he

said, "Damsel, if so be this knight is such a coward as thou sayest,

meseems that if I travel with thee I shall have some ado to come upon him;

because, if he sees me with thee, he may keep himself hidden in the thicket

of the forest from my sight. Now I will have it this way; do thou ride

along the highway in plain sight of the castle, and I will keep within the

woodland skirts, where I may have thee in sight and still be hidden from

the sight of others. Then if this knight assail thee, as I think it likely

he may do, I will come out and do battle with him ere he escapes."

So it was arranged as Sir Launcelot said and they rode in that wise:

Croisette rode along the highway, and Sir Launcelot rode under the trees in

the outskirts of the forest, where he was hidden from the eyes of anyone

who might be looking that way. So they went on for a long pass until they

came pretty nigh to where the castle was.

[Sidenote: Sir Peris attacks Croisette] Then, as they came to a certain

part of the road that dipped down toward a small valley, they were suddenly

aware of a great noise, and immediately there issued out from the forest a

knight, large and strong of frame, and followed close behind by a squire

dressed altogether in scarlet from head to foot. This knight bore down with

great speed upon where Croisette was, and the esquire followed close behind

him. When these two had come near to Croisette, the esquire leaped from off

his horse and caught her palfrey by the bridle, and the knight came close

to her and catched her as though to drag her off from her horse.

With that Croisette shrieked very loud, and immediately Sir Launcelot broke

out from the woods and rode down upon where all this was toward with a

noise like to thunder. As he came he cried aloud in a great and terrible

voice: "Sir Knight, let go that lady, and turn thou to me and defend

thyself!"

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Peris] Then Sir Peris of the

Forest Sauvage looked this way and that with intent to escape, but he was

aware that he could not escape from Sir Launcelot, wherefore he took his

shield in hand and drew his sword and put himself into a position of

defence; for, whereas he could not escape, he was, perforce, minded to do

battle. Then Sir Launcelot threw aside his spear, and he set his shield

before him and he took his sword in his hand, and he drave his horse

against Sir Peris. And when he had come nigh to Sir Peris he raised himself

in his stirrups and struck him such a buffet that I believe nothing in the

world could withstand its force. For though Sir Peris raised his shield

against that blow, yet the sword of Sir Launcelot smote through the shield

and it smote down the arm that held the shield, and it smote with such a

terrible force upon the helm of Sir Peris that Sir Peris fell down from his

horse and lay in a swoon without any motion at all.

Then Sir Launcelot leaped down from his horse and rushed off the helm of

Sir Peris, and lifted his sword with intent to strike off his head.

Upon that the senses of Sir Peris came somewhat back to him, and he set his

palms together and he cried out, though in a very weak voice: "Spare me,

Sir Knight! I yield myself to thee!"

"Why should I spare thee?" said Sir Launcelot.

"Sir," said Sir Peris, "I beseech thee, by thy knighthood, to spare me."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "since thou hast besought me upon my knighthood

I cannot do else than spare thee. But if I do spare thee, thou shalt have

to endure such shame that any true knight in thy stead would rather die

than be spared in such a manner."

"Sir Knight," said Sir Peris, "I am content with anything thou mayst do, so

be that thou wilt spare my life."

Upon this Sir Launcelot bade Sir Peris rise. And he took the halter of Sir

Peris's horse, and he bound Sir Peris's arms behind his back, and when he

had done this he drove him up to his castle at the point of his lance. And

when they came to the castle he bade Sir Peris have open the castle; and

Sir Peris did so; and thereupon Sir Launcelot and Sir Peris entered the

castle and the damsel and the squire followed after them.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot liberates the captive ladies] In that castle were

fourteen ladies of high degree held captive for ransom; and some of these

had been there for a considerable time, to their great discomfort. All

these were filled with joy when they were aware that Sir Launcelot had set

them free. So they came to Sir Launcelot and paid their court to him and

gave him great thanks beyond measure.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot gives the castle treasure to the captive ladies]

Sir Launcelot and Croisette abode in that castle all that night, and when

the next morning had come Sir Launcelot made search all over that castle,

and he found a considerable treasure of silver and gold, which had been

gathered there by the ransom of the ladies and the damsels of degree whom

Sir Peris had made prisoner aforetime. All this treasure Sir Launcelot

divided among those ladies who were prisoners, and a share of the treasure

he gave to the damsel Croisette, because that they two were such good

friends and because Croisette had brought him thither to that adventure,

and thereof Croisette was very glad. But Sir Launcelot kept none of that

treasure for himself.

Then Croisette said: "How is this, Sir Launcelot? You have not kept any of

this treasure for yourself, yet you won it by your own force of arms,

wherefore it is altogether yours to keep if you will to do so."

"Croisette," said Sir Launcelot, "I do not care for such things as this

treasure; for when I lived within that lake of which I have spoken to thee,

such things as this treasure were there as cheap as pebbles which you may

gather up at any river-bed, wherefore it has come to pass that such things

have no value to me."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot makes Sir Peris a dishonored captive] Now, after

all this had been settled, Sir Launcelot had Sir Peris of the Forest

Sauvage haled before him, and Sir Launcelot said: "Catiff Knight, now is it

time for thy shame to come upon thee." Therewith he had Sir Peris stripped

of all armor and raiment, even to his jerkin and his hose, and he had his

arms tied behind his back, and he had a halter set about his neck; and Sir

Launcelot tied the halter that was about the neck of Sir Peris to the horn

of the saddle of his own horse, so that when he rode away with Croisette

Sir Peris must needs follow behind him at whatever gait the horse of Sir

Launcelot might take.

[Sidenote: Sir Hilaire sendeth Sir Peris to King Arthur] So Sir Launcelot

and Croisette rode back to the manor of Sir Hilaire of the Dale with Sir

Peris running behind them, and when they had come there Sir Launcelot

delivered Sir Peris unto Sir Hilaire, and Sir Hilaire had Sir Peris bound

upon a horse's back with his feet underneath the belly of the horse; and

sent him to Camelot for King Arthur to deal with him as might seem to the

King to be fit.

But Sir Launcelot remained with Sir Hilaire of the Dale all the next day

and he was very well content to be in that pleasant place. And upon the day

after that, which was Sunday, he set forth at about the prime of the day to

go to that abbey of monks where he had appointed to meet the damsel Elouise

the Fair, as aforetold.

And now you shall hear how Sir Launcelot behaved at the tournament of King

Bagdemagus, if it please you to read that which herewith immediately

followeth.

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot and Elouise the Fair]

Chapter Sixth

_How Sir Launcelot Took Part in the Tournament Between King Bagdemagus and

the King of North Wales, and How He Won that Battle for King Bagdemagus._

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot rode to find Elouise the Fair] Sir Launcelot

rode by many highways and many byways at a very slow pace, stopping now and

then when it pleased him to do so, for he took great joy in being free in

the open air again. For the day was warm and that time the clouds were very

thick, drifting in great abundance across the sky. And anon there would

fall a sudden shower of rain, and anon the sun would shine forth again,

very warm and strong, so that all the world sparkled as with incredible

myriads of jewels. Then the cock crowed lustily because the shower was

past, and another cock answered him far away, and all the world suddenly

smiled, and the water trickled everywhere, and the little hills clapped

their hands for joy. So Sir Launcelot took great pleasure in the day and he

went his way at so easy a pace that it was night-time ere he reached that

abbey of monks where he was to meet Elouise the Fair.

Now that evening Elouise was sitting in a certain apartment of the abbey

overlooking the court-yard, and a maiden was reading to her by the light of

several waxen tapers from a book of painted pictures. And the maiden read

in a voice that was both high and clear; meanwhile, Elouise sat very still

and listened to what she read. Now while Elouise the Fair sat so, there was

of a sudden the sound of a great horse coming on the stone pavement of the

court below. Therewith Elouise arose hastily and ran to the window and

looked down into that court-yard. Then she saw who he was that came, and

that it was Sir Launcelot of the Lake. For the light was not yet altogether

gone from the sky, which was all shining with gray, so that she could see

who it was who came there.

Then Elouise gave great exclamation of joy, and clapped her hands. And she

ran down to the court where Sir Launcelot was, and several of her maidens

went with her.

[Sidenote: Elouise the Fair gives welcome to Sir Launcelot] When she had

come to the court she gave great welcome to Sir Launcelot, and she summoned

many attendants and she bade them look to Sir Launcelot. So some of them

aided Sir Launcelot to dismount and some took his horse, and some brought

him up to a chamber that had been set apart for him, and there unarmed and

served him, and set him at his ease.

Then Elouise sent to him a soft robe of purple cloth of velvet, lined with

fur, and Sir Launcelot put it upon him and took great comfort in it.

After that Sir Launcelot descended to where Elouise was, and he found that

a fair supper had been set for his refreshment. So he sat and ate, and

Elouise the Fair herself served him.

[Sidenote: Elouise sends for King Bagdemagus] Meanwhile she had sent for

her father, King Bagdemagus, who was at that time no great distance away,

and a little after Sir Launcelot had finished his supper King Bagdemagus

came to that place, much wondering why Elouise had sent for him.

When King Bagdemagus came, Elouise took him by the hand and led him to Sir

Launcelot, and she said: "Sire, here is a knight who, for my sake, is come

to help you in this tournament upon Tuesday."

Now King Bagdemagus had never before seen Sir Launcelot, so he knew not who

that knight was. Wherefore he said to him: "Messire, I am much beholden to

you for coming to my aid in this battle. Now I pray you that you tell me

your name and what knight you are."

"Lord," said Sir Launcelot, "I am hight Launcelot, and am surnamed 'He of

the Lake.'"

Now when King Bagdemagus heard this he was astonished beyond measure,

wherefore he cried out, "This is wonderful, that you who are the very

flower of knighthood should be here, and that you should come to aid me in

my battle!"

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot talks with King Bagdemagus] "Sire," said Sir

Launcelot, "I know not how much aid I may be to thee until that matter is

proven. But of a surety I owe it to this damsel to do what I am able at her

request, in return for all that she hath done for me to aid me in my time

of great peril. So it is a very small repayment for me to aid thee, her

father, in thy time of difficulties. Wherefore if, by good hap, I may be of

use to thee in this battle which is nigh at hand, then I shall be glad

beyond measure that I have paid some part of that debt which I owe to this

lady."

"Messire," said King Bagdemagus, "I give thee grammercy for thy good will

in this matter. I am sure that, with thy aid, I shall be successful in this

battle, and that it will always be most renowned in the history of chivalry

because thou hast taken part in it."

So spake they with great courtesy to one another. Then, by and by, Sir

Launcelot said: "Sir, I pray you tell me who are those knights of King

Arthur's court who are upon the part of the King of North Wales? For I

would fain know against whom I am to do battle." To which King Bagdemagus

said: "Messire, those three knights of the Round Table are as

follows--there is Sir Mordred, nephew unto King Arthur, and there is Sir

Galahantine, and there is Sir Mador de la Porte."

"Ha," quoth Sir Launcelot, "these are three very good knights indeed, and I

am not at all astonished that the King of North Wales should have had such

good fortune aforetime in that other tournament with you, seeing that he

had three such knights as they to do battle upon his side."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot arranges the order of battle with King

Bagdemagus] After this they fell into discourse as to the manner in which

they should do battle upon the morrow, and Sir Launcelot advised in this

wise: "Lord, let me take three knights of yours, such as you trust, and

such as you hold to be the strongest knights of your party. Let these three

knights paint their shields altogether white and I will paint mine white,

and then no man will know who we are. For I would have it so that I should

not be known to be in this battle until I shall have approved myself in it.

Now, when you have chosen those three knights, we four will take hiding in

some wood or glade nigh to the place of combat, and when you are most

busily engaged, and when you begin to be hard-pressed, then we will come

forth and fall upon the flank of the party of the King of North Wales with

intent to throw them into confusion. Then you will push your assault very

hard, and I doubt not by the grace of God that we shall betwixt us be able

to bear back their array in confusion."

This advice seemed very good to King Bagdemagus, and so he did as Sir

Launcelot said. He chose him three very strong, worthy, honorable knights,

and these made their shields white as Sir Launcelot directed.

Thus, all things being arranged as Sir Launcelot willed, it came to be the

eve before the battle. So a little after sunset Sir Launcelot and those

three knights whom King Bagdemagus had chosen rode over toward the place of

tourney (which was some twelve miles from the abbey where the damsel

Elouise was lodged). There they found a little woodland of tall, leafy

trees fit for Sir Launcelot's purpose, and that wood stood to one side of

the meadow of battle and at about the distance of three furlongs from it.

In this little wood Sir Launcelot and the three knights-companion whom King

Bagdemagus had chosen laid themselves down upon the ground and wrapped,

each man, his cloak about him. So they slept there until the morrow, when

the battle was ordained to be.

Now there had been very great preparation made for this tournament for on

three sides of the meadow of battle scaffolds had been built and rows of

seats had been placed. These were covered over with tapestries and hangings

of divers colors--some of figured and some of plain weaving--so that the

green and level meadow-land was hung all about with these gay and gaudy

colors.

Now when the morning had come, the folk who came to witness that tournament

began to assemble from all directions--lords and ladies of high degree,

esquires and damsels of lesser rank, burghers and craftsmen with their

wives, townspeople from the town, yeomen from the woodlands, and

freeholders from the farm crofts. With these came many knights of the two

parties in contest, and with the knights came their esquires in attendance.

Now these knights were all in full armor, shining very bright, and the

esquires were clad in raiment of many textures and various colors, so that

they were very gay and debonair. So, with all this throng moving along the

highway toward the meadow of battle, it seemed as though the entire world

was alive with gay and moving figures.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and his companions lie near the place of

tournament] Now the place where Sir Launcelot and those three knights who

were with him lay hidden was not far from the highway, so, whence they lay,

they could see all that goodly procession of folk taking their way toward

the lists, and they could look down upon the meadow of battle, which, as

hath been said, was not more than three furlongs distant, and they could

see the crowds of people of high and low degree taking their places upon

those seats according to their rank and station. And they could see how the

knights-contestant arrayed themselves upon this side of the field and upon

that, and how the esquires and attendants hurried hither and thither,

busying themselves in making their lords ready for the encounter that was

soon to befall. Yea, all this could they see as plainly as though it lay

upon the palm of a hand.

So they saw that about noontide all those who had come thither had taken

their places, and that the field was clean, and that the two parties of

combat were arrayed in order for battle.

Then Sir Launcelot perceived that the party of the King of North Wales was

very much greater than the party of King Bagdemagus; for while the party of

the King of North Wales had nigh eight score of helms, the party of King

Bagdemagus had hardly four score of helms. So Sir Launcelot perceived that

that party of King Bagdemagus would have much labor to do if it was to win

in the battle.

[Sidenote: How the battle began] Now, all being prepared, the marshal

stood forth and blew upon his trumpet, and therewith those two parties of

knights rushed the one against the other, each in so great a cloud of dust

that one could hardly see the knights in their passage. Therewith they met

in the midst of the meadow of battle, with such a crash and uproar of

splintered lances as was terrible to hear.

And for a while no man could see what was toward, so great was the dust and

the tumult. But by and by the dust raised itself a little and then Sir

Launcelot perceived that the party of King Bagdemagus had been pushed back

by that other party, as might have been supposed in such a case.

So Sir Launcelot looked upon the battle for some while and he saw that the

party of King Bagdemagus was pushed farther and farther back. Then by and

by Sir Launcelot said to his knights-companion: "Messires, methinks now is

our time to enter this engagement."

Therewith he and they rode forth out of that woods, and they rode down the

hill and across the fields and so came into that meadow-of-battle.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and his companions enter the battle] At that time

the party of the King of North Wales was so busily engaged in its assault

upon the party of King Bagdemagus that very few of those knights engaged

were aware of those four knights coming, and those who were aware of them

thought but very little of the coming of so small a number. So no one

interfered with their coming, wherefore they were able to bear down with

great speed upon the flank of the party of the King of North Wales.

Therewith they struck that flank with such force that both horses and

horsemen were overturned by their assault.

In that encounter Sir Launcelot carried a spear that was wonderfully strong

and tough. With it he ran with great fierceness into the very thickest of

the press, and before he was checked he struck down five knights with that

one spear. And likewise those three knights that were with him did such

good service that all that flank of the party of the King of North Wales

was thrown into great confusion and wist not what to do for to guard

themselves against that fierce, furious onset.

Then Sir Launcelot and his three companions bore back a little, and when

they got their distance they ran again into the press, and this time Sir

Launcelot overthrew the King of North Wales himself, and that with such

violence that the bone of his thigh was broken, and he had to be carried

away out of that field by his attendants. And in this second assault Sir

Launcelot and the three knights who were with him overthrew eleven knights

besides the King of North Wales, wherefore all that part of the press began

to break away from them and to seek some place where they could defend

themselves from such another assault.

Now when the party of King Bagdemagus saw into what confusion the other

party were thrown by these four knights-champion, they began a very fierce

and furious attack, and with such vehemence that in a little the party of

the King of North Wales began to bear back before them. So, what with those

who withdrew before Sir Launcelot's assault, and what with those who

withdrew from the assault of King Bagdemagus, there was a great deal of

confusion in the ranks of the party of the King of North Wales.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Mordred] Now those three knights

who were of King Arthur's court perceived how Sir Launcelot and his

knights-companion were throwing the ranks of the party of the King of North

Wales into confusion, and they knew that unless the onset of Sir Launcelot

was checked, the day would of a surety be lost unto them. Wherefore said

Sir Mador de la Porte: "Yonder is a very strong and fierce-fighting knight;

if we do not check his onset we will very likely be brought to shame in

this battle." "Yea," said Sir Mordred, "that is so. Now I will take it upon

me to joust with that knight and to overthrow him." Upon that those other

two knights bade him go and do as he said. So Sir Mordred made way to where

Sir Launcelot was, coming forward very fiercely and with great violence,

and Sir Launcelot was aware of Sir Mordred's coming and made him ready for

that assault. So the two came together with terrible violence and Sir

Launcelot struck Sir Mordred such a buffet that the breast-band of Sir

Mordred's saddle brake, and both the saddle and Sir Mordred flew over his

horse's tail. Therewith Sir Mordred fell upon his head and struck with such

violence upon the ground that his neck was nigh broken, and he lay

altogether in a dead swoon and had to be carried out of the lists by his

attendants.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Mador] This saw Sir Mador de la

Porte, and he cried out: "Ha! see what hath befallen Sir Mordred!" And

therewith he also bare down upon Sir Launcelot with all his might and main

with intent to overthrow him. And Sir Launcelot ran against him, and they

struck together so fiercely that it was terrible to behold. But the spear

of Sir Mador de la Porte burst into pieces, whilst the spear of Sir

Launcelot held, so that both Sir Mador and his horse were overthown, the

horse rolling upon the man. And in that encounter Sir Mador's shoulder went

out of place, and he also had to be borne away by his attendants.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot strikes Sir Galahantine a sad blow] Then Sir

Galahantine took a great spear from his esquire, who was nigh him, and he

also ran against Sir Launcelot with all his might; and Sir Launcelot met

him in full course and that onset was more terrible than either of the

other two. For the spear of each knight was burst into splinters, even to

the butt thereof. Then each threw away the butt of his spear and drew out

his sword, and Sir Galahantine struck Sir Launcelot such a blow that the

legs of Sir Launcelot's horse trembled under him because of the weight of

that stroke. At this Sir Launcelot waxed wroth beyond measure and he rose

in his stirrups and he smote Sir Galahantine such a buffet that the blood

burst out from his nose and his ears, and all his senses so went away from

him that he might hardly behold the light of day because of the swimming of

his sight.

Therewith Sir Galahantine's head hung down upon his breast and he had no

power to guide his horse, wherefore his horse made way out of the press and

galloped off, bearing Sir Galahantine away, whether he would or no. And

after the horse had galloped a little distance Sir Galahantine could not

any longer sit upon his saddle, but he fell off of his horse and rolled

over upon the ground and had not strength to rise therefrom.

Then Sir Launcelot catched another spear, great and strong, from the

esquire who followed him, and before ever that spear broke he overthrew

sixteen knights therewith. Wherefore all who beheld him were amazed and

terrified at what he did.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot wins the battle for King Bagdemagus] By now the

party of the King of North Wales began to bear more and more aback and in a

little they broke, and then the party of King Bagdemagus pursued them

hither and thither, and those who did not surrender were overthrown so that

it was not possible for them to make any new order of battle. Then that

party surrendered itself as conquered, one and all, and so King Bagdemagus

won that tournament with the greatest glory that it was possible for him to

have. For it had never been heard of before that a party of four-score

knights should overcome in that way a party of eight-score knights, with

three knights of the Round Table to champion them. Nor would such a victory

have been possible only for what Sir Launcelot did in that battle.

So Sir Launcelot won that tournament for King Bagdemagus, and after the

battle was over and done King Bagdemagus came to Sir Launcelot and said to

him: "Messire, thou hast brought to me the greatest glory this day that

ever fell to my lot in all of my life. Now I prithee come with me and

refresh thyself with me, so that I may give thee fitting thanks for all

thou hast done, and so that I may reward thee in such a way as is fit for a

king to reward a knight-champion such as thou art."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot departs without reward] Unto this Sir Launcelot

made reply: "Lord, I give you thanks for your courtesy, but I need no

reward; for it is meet that I should have done what I could for the sake of

the demoiselle Elouise the Fair, seeing that she rescued me from the

mischiefs that Queen Morgana had intent to do me."

Then King Bagdemagus besought Sir Launcelot that he would tarry awhile and

rest, but Sir Launcelot would not do so, but would be going upon his way

without any tarrying. But he said to King Bagdemagus: "I prithee greet your

daughter for me, and say to her that if ever she hath need of my services

again let her send to me, and I will come to her even if it be to the end

of the earth. For I have not yet repaid her for what she hath done for me."

Therewith Sir Launcelot went his way from that meadow of battle, and,

coming to the skirts of the forest he entered therein, and those who were

there at the meadow of battle did not see him any more.

So endeth the history of that famous tournament betwixt King Bagdemagus and

the King of North Wales.

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot climbs to catch the lady's falcon]

Chapter Seventh

_How Sir Launcelot Fell Into the Greatest Peril that Ever He Encountered in

all His Life. Also How He Freed a Misfortunate Castle and Town From the

Giants Who Held Them, and How He Released the Lord Thereof From a Dungeon._

Now Sir Launcelot wandered errant for many days, meeting no adventure of

any moment, but taking great joy in all that he beheld of the wide world

about him, and in that time he found lodging wheresoever he chanced to be

(if not in house, then beneath the skies), and he endured all sorts of

weather, both wet and dry.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh to a fair valley with a castle] Upon a

certain day, in the prime of the morning, he came across a hilltop, and

beheld beneath him a valley, very fertile and well-tilled, with fields and

meadow-lands spread all over it like to a fair green carpet woven in divers

patterns. And in the midst of the valley was a very large and noble castle,

with many towers, and tall, steep roofs, and clustering chimneys. So Sir

Launcelot descended into that valley, and the road which he took ended in

front of the castle and under the shade of the tall gray walls thereof. But

he did not stop at that castle but went on by it.

Now after Sir Launcelot had passed by that castle it seemed to him that he

heard very delicate silver bells ringing sweetly in the air above him, and

when he looked up he beheld that a falcon was flying over his head toward a

high elm tree that stood at a little distance, and he wist that it was the

bells upon the cap of the falcon that rang so sweetly. And Sir Launcelot

beheld that long lunes hung from the feet of the falcon as she flew,

wherefore he was aware that the falcon had slipped her lunes and had flown

from her owner.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot beholdeth a falcon entangled] So Sir Launcelot

watched the falcon, and he beheld that she lit in a tall elm tree, where

she took her perch and rested, balancing with her wings part spread. Then

by and by she would have taken her flight again, but the lunes about her

feet had become entangled around the bough on which she sat, so that when

she would have flown she could not do so. Now Sir Launcelot was very sorry

to see the falcon beating herself in that wise, straining to escape from

where she was prisoner, but he knew not what to do to aid her, for the tree

was very high, and he was no good climber of trees.

While he stood there watching that falcon he heard the portcullis of the

castle lifted, with a great noise, and the drawbridge let fall, and

therewith there came a lady riding out of the castle very rapidly upon a

white mule, and she rode toward where Sir Launcelot watched the falcon upon

the tree. When that lady had come nigh to Sir Launcelot, she cried out to

him: "Sir Knight, didst thou see a falcon fly this way?" Sir Launcelot

said: "Yea, Lady, and there she hangs, caught by her lunes in yonder

elm-tree."

Then when that lady beheld how that her falcon hung there she smote her

hands together, crying out: "Alas, alas! what shall I do? That falcon is my

lord's favorite hawk! While I was playing with her a while since, she

slipped from me and took flight, and has sped as thou dost see. Now when my

lord findeth that I have lost his hawk in that wise he will be very angry

with me, and will haply do me some grievous hurt."

[Sidenote: The Lady beseeches Sir Launcelot to get her the falcon again]

Quoth Sir Launcelot: "Lady, I am very sorry for you." "Sir," she said, "it

boots nothing for you to be sorry for me unless you can aid me." "How may I

aid you in this?" said Sir Launcelot. "Messire," quoth she, "how otherwise

could you aid me than by climbing up into this tree for my hawk? For if you

aid me not in such a fashion, I know not what I shall do, for my lord hath

a very hot and violent temper, and he is not likely to brook having his

favorite hawk lost to him, as it is like to be."

Upon this Sir Launcelot was put to a great pass and knew not what to do,

for he had no good mind to climb that tree. "Lady," quoth he, "I prithee

tell me what is thy lord's name." "Messire," she replied, "he is hight Sir

Phelot, and is a knight of the court of the King of North Wales."

"Well, Lady," said Sir Launcelot, "thou dost put upon me a very sore task

in this, for God knoweth I am no climber of trees. Yea, I would rather do

battle with twenty knights than to climb one such tree as this.

Nevertheless, I cannot find it in me to refuse the asking of any lady, if

so be it lieth at all in my power to perform her will. Now if you will aid

me to unarm myself, I will endeavor to climb this tree and get your hawk."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot climbs the tree] So the lady dismounted from her

mule, and Sir Launcelot dismounted from his horse, and the lady aided Sir

Launcelot to unarm himself. And when he had unarmed himself he took off all

his clothes saving only his hosen and his doublet. Then he climbed that

tree, though with great labor and pain to himself, and with much dread lest

he should fall. So he, at last, reached the falcon where it was, and he

loosened the lunes from where they were entangled about the branch, and he

freed the bird. Then he brake off a great piece of rotten bough of the tree

and he tied the lunes of the falcon to it and he tossed the falcon down to

where the lady was; and the lady ran with great joy and caught the falcon

and loosed it from the piece of branch and tied the lunes to her wrist, so

that it could not escape again.

Then Sir Launcelot began to descend the tree with as great labor and pain

as he had climbed into it.

[Sidenote: Sir Phelot threatens Sir Launcelot's life] But he had not come

very far down when he perceived a knight who came riding very rapidly

toward that tree, and he saw that the knight was in full armor. When this

knight came to the tree he drew rein and bespoke the lady who was there,

though Sir Launcelot could not hear what he said. So, after he had spoken

for a little, the knight dismounted from his horse and went to Sir

Launcelot's shield and looked upon the face of it very carefully. Then

presently he looked upward toward Sir Launcelot, and he said: "Art thou Sir

Launcelot of the Lake?" And Sir Launcelot said: "Yea." "Very well," said

the knight, "I am pleased beyond measure at that. For I am Sir Phelot, the

lord of this castle, and the brother of that Sir Peris of the Forest

Sauvage, whom thou didst treat so shamefully after thou hadst overcome him

in battle."

"Sir," said Sir Launcelot, "I treated him nowise differently from what he

deserved." "No matter for that," said Sir Phelot, "he was my brother, and

thou didst put great despite and shame upon him. So now I will be revenged

upon thee, for now I have thee where I would have thee, and I will slay

thee as shamefully as thou didst put shame upon him. So say thy prayers

where thou art, for thou shalt never go away from this place alive."

"Sir Knight," said Sir Launcelot, "I do not believe that thou wouldst

really assault a naked and harmless man, for it would certainly be a great

shame to thee to do me a harm in that wise. For lo! thou art armed in full,

and I am a naked man, and to slay me as I am would be both murder and

treason."

"No matter for that," said Sir Phelot; "as for the shame of it, I take no

thought of it. I tell thee thou shalt have no grace nor mercy from me.

Wherefore make thy peace with Heaven, for thine hour is come."

"Sir Knight," said Sir Launcelot, "I ask only one boon of thee; if thou art

of a mind to take so much shame upon thee, as appears to be the case, let

me not, at least, die like a felon without any weapon. Let me have my sword

in my hand, even if I have no other defence. For if a knight must die, it

is a shame for him to die without weapons. So hang my sword upon yonder

bough, where I may reach it, and then thou mayst slay me."

"Nay," said Sir Phelot, "I will not do that, for I know very well how

wonderful is thy prowess. Wherefore I believe that even if thou wert

otherwise unarmed thou mightst overcome me if thou hadst thy sword. So I

will give thee no such chance, but will have my will of thee as thou art."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot is put to a sad pass to escape] Then Sir

Launcelot was put to a great pass of anxiety, for he wist not what to do to

escape from that danger in which he lay. Wherefore he looked all about him

and above him and below him, and at last he beheld a great branch of the

elm tree just above his head, very straight and tough. So he catched this

branch and broke it off from the tree and shaped it to a club of some sort.

Then he came lower, and the knight waited to strike him with his sword,

when he was low enough; but Sir Launcelot did not come low enough for that.

Then Sir Launcelot perceived that his horse stood below him and a little to

one side, so of a sudden he ran out along the branch whereon he stood and

he leaped quickly down to the earth upon the farther side of his horse from

where the knight stood.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overcomes Sir Phelot with a strange weapon] At

this Sir Phelot ran at him and lashed at him with his sword, thinking to

slay him before he had recovered from his leap. But Sir Launcelot was

quicker than he, for he recovered his feet and put away the blow of Sir

Phelot with his club which he held. Then he ran in upon Sir Phelot under

his sword arm, and before he could use his sword he struck Sir Phelot with

all his might upon the side of his head. And he struck him very quickly

again, and he struck him the third time, all in the space whilst one might

count two. And those blows he struck were so direful that Sir Phelot fell

down upon his knees, all stunned and bedazed, and the strength went out of

his thews because of faintness. Then Sir Launcelot took the sword out of

the hand of Sir Phelot and Sir Phelot did not have strength to deny him.

And Sir Launcelot plucked off Sir Phelot's helm and catched him by the hair

and dragged his neck forward so as to have ease to strike his head from off

his body.

Now all this while the lady had been weeping and watching what befell. But

when she saw the great danger Sir Phelot was in, she ran and clasped her

arms about him, and cried out in a very loud and piercing voice upon Sir

Launcelot to spare Sir Phelot and to slay him not. But Sir Launcelot, still

holding him by the hair of the head, said: "Lady, I cannot spare him, for

he has treated me more treacherously than any other knight with whom I ever

had dealings." But the lady cried out all the more vehemently, "Sir

Launcelot, thou good knight, I beseech thee, of thy knighthood, to spare

him."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot spares Sir Phelot's life] "Well," said Sir

Launcelot, "it hath yet to be said of me that I have denied anything that I

was able to grant unto any lady that hath asked it of me upon my

knighthood. And yet I know not how to trust either of ye. For thou didst

not say one word in my behalf when I was in danger of being slain so

treacherously just now. As for this knight, I perceive that he is every

whit as great a traitor and a coward as was his brother Sir Peris of the

Sauvage Forest. So I will spare him, but I will not trust him, lest he turn

against me ere I arm myself again. Wherefore give me hither the halter rein

of your mule." So the lady gave Sir Launcelot the halter rein, weeping

amain as she did so. And Sir Launcelot took the halter rein and he tied the

arms of Sir Phelot behind him. Then he bade the lady of Sir Phelot to help

him arm himself from head to foot, and she did so, trembling a very great

deal. Then, when she had done so, quoth Sir Launcelot: "Now I fear the

treachery of no man." Therewith he mounted his horse and rode away from

that place And he looked not behind him at all, but rode away as though he

held too much scorn of that knight and of that lady to give any more

thought to them.

So after that Sir Launcelot travelled for a while through the green fields

of that valley, till by and by he passed out of that valley, and came into

a forest through which he travelled for a very long time.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh to a marish country] For it was about the

slanting of the afternoon ere he came forth out of that forest and under

the open sky again. And when he came out of the forest he beheld before him

a country of perfectly level marish, very lush and green, with many ponds

of water and sluggish streams bordered by rushes and sedge, and with

pollard willows standing in rows beside the waters. In the midst of this

level plain of green (which was like to the surface of a table for

flatness) there stood a noble castle, part built of brick and part of

stone, and a town of no great size and a wall about the town. And this

castle and town stood upon an island surrounded by a lake of water, and a

long bridge, built upon stone buttresses, reached from the mainland to the

island. And this castle and town were a very long distance away, though

they appeared very clear and distinct to the sight across the level marish,

like, as it were, to a fine bit of very small and cunning carving.

Now the way that Sir Launcelot travelled, led somewhat toward that town,

wherefore he went along that way with intent to view the place more near

by. So he conveyed by that road for some time without meeting any soul upon

the way. But at last he came of a sudden upon an archer hiding behind an

osier tree with intent to shoot the water-fowl that came to a pond that was

there--for he had several such fowl hanging at his girdle. To him Sir

Launcelot said: "Good fellow, what town is that yonderway?" "Sir," said the

yeoman, "that is called the Town of the Marish because it stands in these

Fenlands. And that castle is called the Castle of the Fenlands for the same

reason."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot talks with a yeoman] Quoth Sir Launcelot: "What

manner of place is that? Is it a good place, or is it otherwise?" "Sir,"

said the archer, "that place was one while a very good, happy place; for in

times gone by there was a lord who dwelt there who was both just and noble,

and kind to all folk, wherefore he was loved by all the people. But one

night there came two very grim and horrible giants thither from the Welsh

Mountains and these entered into the castle by treachery and made prisoner

of the lord of the castle. Him they cast into the dungeon of the castle,

where they held him prisoner as an hostage. For they threaten that if

friends of that lord's should send force against them to dispossess them,

they will slay him. As for any other rescue, there is no knight who dareth

to go against them because of their terrible size, and their strength, and

their dreadful, horrible countenances."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "that is a pity and I am sorry for that noble

lordling. Now, since there is no other single knight who dareth to

undertake this adventure, I myself will go and encounter these giants."

"Nay, Sir Knight," said the yeoman, "do not do so, for they are not like

mortal men, but rather like monsters that are neither beast nor man.

Wherefore anyone who beholdeth them, feareth them."

"Grammercy for thy thought of me, good fellow," quoth Sir Launcelot, "but

if I shall refuse an adventure because I find it perilous, then I am not

like to undertake any adventure at all."

Therewith he bade good den to that yeoman and rode upon his way, directing

his course toward that town at an easy pass.

So he came at last to the long bridge that reached from the land to the

island, and he saw that at the farther end of the bridge was the gateway of

the town and through the arch thereof he could perceive a street of the

town, and the houses upon either side of the street, and the people thereof

coming and going.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot crosses the bridge to the town] So he rode forth

upon the bridge and at the noise of his coming (for the hoofs of his horse

sounded like thunder upon the floor of the bridge) the people of the town

came running to see who it was that dared to come so boldly into their

town.

These, when Sir Launcelot came nigh, began to call to him on high, crying:

"Turn back, Sir Knight! Turn back! Else you will meet your death at this

place."

But Sir Launcelot would not turn back, but advanced very steadfastly upon

his way.

Now somewhat nigh the farther end of that bridge there stood a little lodge

of stone, built to shelter the warden of the bridge from stress of weather.

When Sir Launcelot came nigh to this lodge there started suddenly out from

it a great churl, above seven feet high, who bore in his hand a huge club,

shod with iron and with great spikes of iron at the top. This churl ran to

Sir Launcelot and catched his horse by the bridle-rein and thrust it back

upon its haunches, crying out in a great hoarse voice: "Whither goest thou,

Sir Knight, for to cross this bridge?" Sir Launcelot said: "Let go my

horse's rein, Sir Churl." Whereunto the churl made answer: "I will not let

go thy horse's rein, and thou shalt not cross this bridge."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot slays the huge churl] At this Sir Launcelot waxed

very angry, and he drew his sword and struck the churl a blow with the flat

thereof upon the shoulder, so that he dropped the rein very quickly.

Therewith that churl drew back and took his great iron-shod club in both

hands and struck at Sir Launcelot a blow that would have split a millstone.

But Sir Launcelot put by the blow with his sword so that it did him no

harm. But therewith he waxed so wroth that he ground his teeth together

with anger, and, rising in his stirrups, he lashed that churl so woeful a

blow that he cleft through his iron cap and his head and his breast even to

the paps.

[Sidenote: The folk warn Sir Launcelot] Now when the people of the town

beheld that terrible blow they lifted up their voices in a great outcry,

crying out: "Turn back, Sir Knight! Turn back! For this is a very woful

thing for thee that thou hast done!" and some cried out: "Thou hast killed

the giants' warder of the bridge!" And others cried: "Thou art a dead man

unless thou make haste away from this." But to all this Sir Launcelot paid

no heed, but wiped his sword and thrust it back into its sheath. Then he

went forward upon his way across the bridge as though nothing had befallen,

and so came to the farther side. Then, without paying any heed to all the

people who were there, he rode straight to the castle and into the gate of

the castle and into the court-yard thereof.

Now by this time all the castle was astir, and in great tumult, and many

people came running to the windows and looked down upon Sir Launcelot. And

Sir Launcelot sat his horse and looked all about him. So he perceived that

beyond the court-yard was a fair space of grass, very smooth and green,

well fitted for battle, wherefore he dismounted from his horse and tied it

to a ring in the wall, and then he went to that green field and made him

ready for whatever might befall.

Meantime all those people who were at the windows of the castle cried out

to him, as the people of the town had done: "Go away, Sir Knight! Go away

whilst there is still time for you to escape, or else you are a dead man!"

But Sir Launcelot replied not, but stood there and waited very steadfastly.

Then the great door of the castle hall opened, and there came forth

therefrom those two giants of whom he had heard tell.

[Sidenote: Two giants attack Sir Launcelot] And in truth Sir Launcelot had

never beheld such horrible beings as they; for they were above ten feet

high, and very huge of body and long of limb. And they were clad in armor

of bull-hide with iron rings upon it, and each was armed with a great club,

huge and thick, and shod with iron, and studded with spikes. These came

toward Sir Launcelot swinging their clubs and laughing very hideously and

gnashing their long white teeth, for they thought to make easy work of him.

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot slays the first giant] Then Sir Launcelot,

seeing them coming thus, set his shield before him, and made ready for that

assault with great calmness of demeanor. Then the giants rushed suddenly

upon him and struck at him, the both of them together; for they deemed that

by so doing the enemy could not escape both blows, but if one failed the

other would slay him. But Sir Launcelot put aside the blow of one giant

with his sword and of the other with his shield, with marvellous dexterity.

Thereupon, ere they could recover themselves, he turned upon that giant who

was upon his left hand and he struck him so terrible a blow upon the

shoulder that he cut through the armor and through the shoulder and

half-way through the body, so that the head and one arm of the giant leaned

toward one way, and the other arm and the shoulder leaned toward the other

way. Therewith the giant fell down upon the ground bellowing, so that it

was most terrible to hear; and in a little he had died where he had fallen.

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot slays the second giant] Now when the fellow

of that giant beheld that dreadful, horrible stroke, he was so possessed

with terror that he stood for a while trembling and like one in a maze. But

when he saw Sir Launcelot turn upon him with intent to make at him also, he

let fall his club and ran away with great and fearful outcry. Therewith he

ran toward the castle and would have entered therein, but those within the

castle had closed the doors and the gates against him, so that he could not

escape in that way. So the giant ran around and around the court with great

outcry, seeking for some escape from his pursuer, and Sir Launcelot ran

after him. And Sir Launcelot struck him several times with his sword, so

that at last, what with terror and pain and weariness, that giant stumbled

and fell upon the ground. Therewith Sir Launcelot ran at him, and, ere he

could rise, he took his sword in both hands and smote off his head so that

it rolled down upon the ground like a ball. Then Sir Launcelot stood there

panting for breath, for he had raced very hard after the giant, and could

hardly catch his breath again. As he stood so, many of those of the castle

and many of those who were of the town came to him from all sides; and they

crowded around him and gave him great acclaim for ridding that place of

those giants.

Then Sir Launcelot said to them: "Where is your lord?" Whereunto they made

reply: "Sir, he lieth in the dungeon of the castle under the ground chained

to the walls thereof, and there he hath been for three years or more, and

no one hath dared to bring him succor until you came hither." "Go find

him," said Sir Launcelot, "and set him free, and lose no time in doing so.

And put him at all ease that you can."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot departs without refreshment] They say: "Will you

not stay and see him, Messire, and receive his acknowledgements for what

you have done?" But Sir Launcelot replied: "Nay, not so." Then they say:

"Will you not have some refreshment after this battle?" Whereunto Sir

Launcelot said: "I do not need such refreshment." Then they say: "But will

you not rest a little?" "Nay," said Sir Launcelot: "I may not tarry, for I

have far to go and several things to do, so that I do not care to stay." So

he loosed his horse from the ring in the wall, and mounted upon it and rode

away from that castle and from that town and across the bridge whence he

had come. And all the people followed after him, giving him great acclaim.

So Sir Launcelot left the castle, not because he needed no rest, but

because he could not endure to receive the thanks of those whom he

benefited. For though he loved to bring aid to the needy, yet he did not

love to receive their thanks and their praise. Wherefore, having freed the

lord of that castle from that brood of giants, he was content therewith and

went his way without resting or waiting for thanks.

For so it was with those noble gallant knights of those days; that whilst

they would perform signal service for mankind, yet they were not pleased to

receive thanks or reward for the same, but took the utmost satisfaction,

not in what they gained by their acts, but in the doing of knightly deeds,

for they found all their reward in their deeds, because that thereby they

made the world in which they lived better; and because they made the glory

of the King, whose servants they were, the more glorious.

And I hold that such behavior upon the part of anyone makes him the peer of

Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram or Sir Lamorack or Sir Percival; yea, of Sir

Galahad himself. For it does not need either the accolade or the bath to

cause a man to be a true knight of God's making; nor does it need that a

mortal King should lay sword upon shoulder to constitute a man the fellow

of such knightly company as that whose history I am herewith writing; it

needs only that he should prove himself at all times worthy in the

performance of his duty, and that he shall not consider the hope of reward,

or of praise of others in the performance of that duty.

So look to it that in all your services you take example of the noble Sir

Launcelot of the Lake, and that you do your uttermost with might and main,

and that you therewith rest content with having done your best, maugre any

praise. So you shall become a worthy fellow of Sir Launcelot and of his

fellows.

[Illustration: Sir Launcelot takes the armor of Sir Kay]

Chapter Eighth

_How Sir Launcelot Rescued Sir Kay From a Perilous Pass. Also How He

Changed Armor with Sir Kay and what Befell._

One day Sir Launcelot came at early nightfall to a goodly manor-house and

there he besought lodging for the night, and lodging was granted to him

very willingly.

[Sidenote: The old gentlewoman makes Sir Launcelot welcome] Now there was

no lord of that manor, but only an old gentlewoman of very good breeding

and address. She made Sir Launcelot right welcome and gave such cheer as

she could, setting before him a very good supper, hot and savory, and a

great beaker of humming mead wherewith to wash it down. Whilst Sir

Launcelot ate, the gentlewoman inquired of him his name and he told her it

was Sir Launcelot of the Lake. "Ha!" quoth she, "I never heard that name

before, but it is a very good name."

At this Sir Launcelot laughed: "I am glad," said he, "that my name belikes

thee. As for thy not having heard of it--well, I am a young knight as yet,

having had but three years of service. Yet I have hopes that by and by it

may be better known than it is at this present."

"Thou sayest well," quoth she, "for thou art very young yet, wherefore thou

mayst not know what thou canst do till thou hast tried." And therewith Sir

Launcelot laughed again, and said: "Yea, that is very true."

Now after Sir Launcelot had supped, his hostess showed him to the lodging

she had provided for him wherein to sleep, and the lodging was in a fair

garret over the gateway of the court. So Sir Launcelot went to his bed and,

being weary with journeying, he presently fell into a deep and gentle

sleep.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot is aroused from sleep] Now about the middle of

the night there fell of a sudden the noise of someone beating upon the gate

and calling in a loud voice and demanding immediate admittance thereat.

This noise awoke Sir Launcelot, and he arose from his couch and went to the

window and looked out to see who it was that shouted so loudly and made

such uproar.

The moon was shining at that time, very bright and still, and by the light

thereof Sir Launcelot beheld that there was a knight in full armor seated

upon horseback without the gate, and that the knight beat upon the gate

with the pommel of his sword, and shouted that they should let him in.

But ere anyone could run to answer his call there came a great noise of

horses upon the highroad, and immediately after there appeared three

knights riding very fiercely that way, and these three knights were plainly

pursuing that one knight. For, when they perceived him, they rode very

violently to where he was, and fell upon him fiercely, all three at one

time; wherefore, though that one knight defended himself as well as he

could, yet was he in a very sorry way, and altogether likely to be

overborne. For those three surrounded him so close to the gate that he

could do little to shift himself away from their assaults.

Now when Sir Launcelot beheld how those three knights attacked that one

knight, he said to himself: "Of a surety, yonder knight is in a very sorry

way. I will do what I can to help him; for it is a shame to behold three

knights attack one knight in that way. And if he be slain in this assault,

meseems I shall be a party to his death."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot goeth to the rescue of the knight assaulted]

Therewith he ran and put his armor upon him, and made ready for battle.

Then he drew the sheet from his bed, and he tied the sheet to the bar of

the window and by it he let himself quickly down to the ground not far from

where those knights were doing battle. So being safely arrived in that way

he cried out in a very loud voice: "Messires, leave that knight whom ye

assail, and turn to me, for I have a mind to do battle with you myself."

Then one of those knights, speaking very fiercely, said: "Who are you, and

what business have you here?"

"It matters not who I am," said Sir Launcelot, "but I will not have it that

you three shall attack that one without first having had to do with me."

"Very well," said that knight who had spoken, "you shall presently have

your will of that."

Therewith he and his fellows immediately descended from their horses, and

drew their swords and came at Sir Launcelot upon three sides at once. Then

Sir Launcelot set his back against the gate and prepared to defend himself.

Therewith that knight whom he would defend immediately got down from his

horse with intent to come to the aid of Sir Launcelot, but Sir Launcelot

forbade him very fiercely, saying: "Let be, Sir Knight, this is my quarrel,

and you shall not meddle in it."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot does battle with three knights] Upon this, those

three knights rushed upon him very furiously, and they struck at him all at

once, smiting at him wherever they could and with all their might and main.

So Sir Launcelot had much ado to defend himself from their assault. But he

made shift that they should not all rush in upon him at once, and by and by

he found his chance with one of them. Whereupon he turned suddenly upon

that one, and suddenly he lashed so terrible a buffet at him that the

knight fell down and lay as though he had been struck dead with the force

thereof.

Then, ere those other two had recovered themselves, he ran at a second and

struck him so fierce a blow that his wits left him, and he staggered like a

drunken man and ran around and around in a circle, not knowing whither he

went. Then he rushed upon the third and thrust him back with great

violence, and as he went back Sir Launcelot struck him, too, as he had

struck his companions and therewith that knight dropped his sword and fell

down upon his knees and had not power to raise himself up.

Then Sir Launcelot ran to him and snatched off his helmet, and catched him

by the hair with intent to cut off his head. But at that the fallen knight

embraced Sir Launcelot about the knees, crying out: "Spare my life!"

"Why should I spare you?" said Sir Launcelot. "Sir," cried the knight, "I

beseech you of your knighthood to spare me."

"What claim have you upon knighthood," said Sir Launcelot, "who would

attack a single knight, three men against one man?"

Then the other of those knights who had been staggered by Sir Launcelot's

blow, but who had by now somewhat recovered himself, came and kneeled to

Sir Launcelot, and said: "Sir, spare his life, for we all yield ourselves

unto you, for certes, you are the greatest champion in all the world."

Then Sir Launcelot was appeased, but he said: "Nay, I will not take your

yielding unto me. For as you three assaulted this single knight, so shall

you all three yield to him."

"Messire," said the knight who kneeled: "I am very loth to yield us to that

knight, for we chased him hither, and he fled from us, and we would have

overcome him had you not come to his aid."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "I care nothing for all that, but only that you

do as I will. And if ye do not do it, then I must perforce slay your

companions and you two. Wherefore you may take your choice."

[Sidenote: The three knights must yield to the one knight] Then said that

knight who kneeled: "Messire, I see no other thing to do than to yield us

as you would have, wherefore we submit ourselves unto this knight whom you

have rescued from us."

Then Sir Launcelot turned to that knight to whom he had brought aid in that

matter, and he said: "Sir Knight, these knights yield themselves unto you

to do as you command them. Now I pray you of your courtesy to tell me your

name and who you are."

"Sir," said that knight, "I am Sir Kay the Seneschal, and am King Arthur's

foster-brother, and a knight of the Round Table. I have been errant now for

some time in search of Sir Launcelot of the Lake. Now, I deem either that

you are Sir Launcelot, or else that you are the peer of Sir Launcelot."

"Thou art right, Sir Kay," said Sir Launcelot, "and I am Sir Launcelot of

the Lake." So thereat they two made great joy over one another, and

embraced one another as brothers-in-arms should do.

Then Sir Kay told Sir Launcelot how it was with those three knights who had

assailed him; that they were three brethren, and that he had overthrown the

fourth brother in an adventure at arms and had hurt him very sorely

thereby. So those three had been pursuing him for three days with intent to

do him a harm.

[Sidenote: Sir Kay taketh submission of the three knights] Now Sir Kay was

very loath to take submission of those three knights, but Sir Launcelot

would have it so and no other way. So Sir Kay consented to let it be as Sir

Launcelot willed. Thereupon those three knights came and submitted

themselves to Sir Kay, and Sir Kay ordained that they should go to Camelot

and lay their case before King Arthur, and that King Arthur should adjudge

their case according to what he considered to be right and fitting.

Then those three knights mounted upon their horses and rode away, and when

they had done so the gates of the manor were opened, and Sir Launcelot and

Sir Kay entered in. But when the old lady who was his hostess beheld Sir

Launcelot come in, she was very greatly astonished, for she wist he was

still asleep in his bed-chamber. Wherefore she said: "Sir, methought you

were in bed and asleep." "So indeed I was," said Sir Launcelot, "but when I

saw this knight in peril of his life against three knights, I leaped out of

my window and went to his aid." "Well," said his hostess, "meseems that you

will sometime be a very good knight, if you have so much courage whilst you

are so young." And at that both Sir Launcelot and Sir Kay laughed a great

deal.

Then the chatelaine set bread and wine before Sir Kay, and he ate and

refreshed himself, and thereafter he and Sir Launcelot went to that garret

above the gate, and there fell asleep with great ease of body.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot takes Sir Kay's armor] Now before the sun arose

Sir Launcelot awoke but Sir Kay still slept very soundly. Then Sir

Launcelot beheld how Sir Kay slept, and he had a mind for a jest. So he

clad himself in Sir Kay's armor altogether from head to foot, and he took

Sir Kay's shield and spear, and he left his armor and shield and spear for

Sir Kay to use. Then he went very softly from that room, and left Sir Kay

still sleeping. And he took Sir Kay's horse and mounted upon it and rode

away; and all that while Sir Kay knew not what had befallen, but slept very

deeply.

Now after a while Sir Kay awoke, and he found that Sir Launcelot was gone,

and when he looked he found that his own armor was gone and that Sir

Launcelot's armor was left. Then he wist what Sir Launcelot had done, and

he said: "Ha! what a noble, courteous knight is the gentleman. For he hath

left me his armor for my protection, and whilst I wear it and carry his

shield and ride his horse, it is not likely that anyone will assail me upon

my way. As for those who assail him, I do not believe that they will be

likely to find great pleasure in their battle."

Therewith he arose and clad himself in Sir Launcelot's armor, and after he

had broken his fast he thanked his hostess for what she had given him, and

rode upon his way with great content of spirit.

(And it was as Sir Kay had said, for when he met other knights upon the

road, and when they beheld the figure upon his shield, they all said: "It

is not well to meddle with that knight, for that is Sir Launcelot." And so

he came to Camelot without having to do battle with any man.)

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot travels toward Camelot] As for Sir Launcelot,

he rode upon his way with great cheerfulness of spirit, taking no heed at

all of any trouble in the world, but chanting to himself as he rode in the

pleasant weather. But ever he made his way toward Camelot, for he said: "I

will return to Camelot for a little, and see how it fares with my friends

at the court of the King."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot perceives three knights at feast] So by and by he

entered into the country around about Camelot, which is a very smooth and

fertile country, full of fair rivers and meadows with many cots and

hamlets, and with fair hedge-bordered highways, wonderfully pleasant to

journey in. So travelling he came to a very large meadow where were several

groves of trees standing here and there along by a river. And as he went

through this meadow he saw before him a long bridge, and at the farther

side of the bridge were three pavilions of silk of divers colors, which

pavilions had been cast in the shade of a grove of beech-trees. In front of

each pavilion stood a great spear thrust in the earth, and from the spear

hung the shield of the knight to whom the pavilion belonged. These shields

Sir Launcelot read very easily, and so knew the knights who were there. To

wit: that they were Sir Gunther, Sir Gylmere, and Sir Raynold, who were

three brothers of the Court of King Arthur. As Sir Launcelot passed their

pavilions, he saw that the three knights sat at feast in the midmost

pavilion of the three, and that a number of esquires and pages waited upon

them and served them, for those knights were of very high estate, and so

they were established as high lords should be.

[Sidenote: The three knights bid Sir Launcelot come to feast with them]

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Gunther] Now when those knights

perceived Sir Launcelot they thought it was Sir Kay because of the armor he

wore, and Sir Gunther, who was the eldest of the three brothers, cried out:

"Come hither, Sir Kay, and eat with us!" But to this Sir Launcelot made no

reply, but rode on his way. Then said Sir Gunther: "Meseems Sir Kay hath

grown very proud this morning. Now I will go and bring him back with me, or

else I will bring down his pride to earth." So he made haste and donned his

helmet and ran and took his shield and his spear, and mounted his horse and

rode after Sir Launcelot at a hard gallop. As he drew nigh to Sir Launcelot

he cried out: "Stay, Sir Knight! Turn again, and go with me!" "Why should I

go with you?" said Sir Launcelot. Quoth Sir Gunther: "Because you must

either return with me or do battle with me." "Well," said Sir Launcelot, "I

would rather do battle than return against my will." And at that Sir

Gunther was astonished, for Sir Kay was not wont to be so ready for a

battle. So Sir Launcelot set his shield and spear and took his stand, and

Sir Gunther took his stand. Then, when they were in all ways prepared, each

set spur to his horse and rushed together with terrible speed. So each

knight struck the other in the midst of his shield, but the onset of Sir

Launcelot was so terrible that it was not to be withstood, wherefore both

Sir Gunther and his horse were overthrown in such a cloud of dust that

nothing at all was to be seen of them until that cloud lifted.

At this both Sir Raynold and Sir Gylmere were astonished beyond measure,

for Sir Gunther was reckoned to be a much better knight than Sir Kay,

wherefore they wist not how it was that Sir Kay should have overthrown him

in that fashion.

So straightway Sir Gylmere, who was the second of those brothers, called

out to Sir Launcelot to tarry and do battle. "Very well," said Sir

Launcelot, "if I cannot escape thee I must needs do battle. Only make

haste, for I would fain be going upon my way."

So Sir Gylmere donned his helm in haste and ran and took his shield and

spear and mounted upon his horse. So when he had made himself ready in all

ways he rushed upon Sir Launcelot with all his might and Sir Launcelot

rushed against him.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Gylmere] In that encounter each

knight struck the other in the midst of his shield, and the spear of Sir

Gylmere burst into pieces, but Sir Launcelot's spear held, so the

breast-strap of Sir Gylmere's saddle bursting, both saddle and knight were

swept entirely off the horse and to the earth, where Sir Gylmere lay

altogether stunned.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot wins from Sir Raynold] Then Sir Raynold came

against Sir Launcelot in like manner as the others had done, and in that

encounter Sir Launcelot overthrew both horse and man so that, had not Sir

Raynold voided his horse, he would likely have been very sadly hurt.

Then Sir Raynold drew his sword and cried out in a loud voice: "Come, Sir

Knight, and do me battle afoot!" But Sir Launcelot said: "Why will you have

it so, Sir Knight? I have no such quarrel with you as to do battle with

swords." "Ha!" said Sir Raynold, "you shall fight with me. For though you

wear Sir Kay's armor, I wot very well that you are not Sir Kay, but a great

deal bigger man than ever Sir Kay is like to be."

"Nay," said Sir Launcelot, "I will not do any more battle with you." And

therewith he drew rein and rode away, leaving Sir Raynold standing very

angry in the middle of the highway.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot meets four noble knights] After that Sir

Launcelot rode very easily at a quiet gait, with no great thought whither

he rode, until after a while he came to a place where a road went across a

level field with two rows of tall poplar trees, one upon either side of the

highway. Then Sir Launcelot perceived where, beneath the shade of these

poplar trees, were four knights standing each by his horse. And these four

knights were conversing very pleasantly together. Now as Sir Launcelot drew

nigh he perceived that those were four very famous noble knights of the

Round Table; to wit: one of those knights was his own brother, Sir Ector de

Maris, another was Sir Gawain, another was Sir Ewain, and the fourth was

Sir Sagramore le Desirous.

Now as Sir Launcelot drew nigh Sir Gawain said: "Look, yonder cometh Sir

Kay the Seneschal." Unto this Sir Sagramore le Desirous said: "Yea, this is

he; now bide you here for a little while, and I will go and take a fall of

him."

So straightway he mounted upon his horse, and he rode toward Sir Launcelot,

and he cried out: "Stay, Sir Knight, you cannot go farther until you have

had to do with me." "What would you have of me?" quoth Sir Launcelot.

"Sir," said Sir Sagramore, "I will have a fall of you." "Well," said Sir

Launcelot, "I suppose I must pleasure you, since it cannot be otherwise."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Sagramore] Therewith he dressed

his shield and his spear and Sir Sagramore dressed his shield and his

spear, and when they were in all ways prepared they ran together at full

tilt. In that encounter Sir Sagramore's spear broke, but Sir Launcelot

struck so powerful a blow that he overthrew both horse and man into a ditch

of water that was near-by.

Then Sir Ector de Maris said: "Ha, surely some very ill chance has befallen

Sir Sagramore for to be overthrown by Sir Kay. Now I will go and have ado

with him, for if the matter rests here there will be no living at court

with the jests which will be made upon us."

So he took horse and rode to where Sir Launcelot was, and he went at a very

fast gallop. When he had come near to Sir Launcelot he cried out: "Have at

thee, Sir Kay, for it is my turn next!" "Why should I have at thee?" said

Sir Launcelot, "I have done thee no harm." "No matter," said Sir Ector,

"you can go no farther until you have had to do with me." "Well," said Sir

Launcelot, "if that is so, the sooner I have to do with thee, the sooner

shall I be able to go upon my way."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Ector] Therewith each knight made

himself ready and when they were in all ways prepared they came together

with such force that Sir Launcelot's spear went through Sir Ector's shield

and smote him upon the shoulder, and Sir Ector was thrown down upon the

ground with such violence that he lay where he had fallen, without power to

move.

Then said Sir Ewain to Sir Gawain where they stood together: "That is the

most wonderful thing that ever I beheld, for never did I think to behold

Sir Kay bear himself in battle in such a fashion as that. Now bide thee

here and let me have a try at him." Therewith Sir Ewain mounted his horse

and rode at Sir Launcelot, and there were no words spoken this time, but

each knight immediately took his stand to do battle. Then they ran their

horses together, and Sir Launcelot gave Sir Ewain such a buffet that he was

astonished, and for a little he knew not where he was, for his spear fell

down out of his hand, and he bore his shield so low that Sir Launcelot

might have slain him where he stood if he had been minded to do so.

[Sidenote: Sir Ewain yields to Sir Launcelot] Then Sir Launcelot said:

"Sir Knight, I bid thee yield to me." And Sir Ewain said: "I yield me. For

I do not believe that thou art Sir Kay but a bigger man than he shall ever

be. Wherefore I yield me." "Then that is well," said Sir Launcelot. "Now

stand thou a little aside where thou mayst bring succor unto these other

two knights, for I see that Sir Gawain has a mind to tilt with me."

[Sidenote: Sir Gawain fails with Sir Launcelot] And it was as Sir

Launcelot said, for Sir Gawain also had mounted his horse and had made

himself ready for that encounter. So Sir Gawain and Sir Launcelot took

stand at such place as suited them. Then each knight set spurs to his horse

and rushed together like thunder, and each knight smote the other knight in

the midst of his shield; and in that encounter the spear of Sir Gawain

brake in twain but the spear of Sir Launcelot held, and therewith he gave

Sir Gawain such a buffet that Sir Gawain's horse reared up into the air,

and it was with much ado that he was able to void his saddle ere his horse

fell over backward. For if he had not leaped to earth the horse would have

fallen upon him.

Then Sir Gawain drew his sword and cried very fiercely: "Come down and

fight me, Sir Knight! For thou art not Sir Kay!"

"Nay, I will not fight thee that way," said Sir Launcelot, and therewith he

passed on his way without tarrying further.

But he laughed to himself behind his helmet as he rode, and he said: "God

give Sir Kay joy of such a spear as this, for I believe there came never so

good a spear as this into my hand. For with it I have overthrown seven

famous knights in this hour."

As for those four knights of the Round Table, they comforted one another as

best they could, for they knew not what to think of that which had befallen

them. Only Sir Ector said: "That was never Sir Kay who served us in this

wise, but such a man as is better than ten Sir Kays, or twice ten Sir Kays,

for the matter of that."

[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot returned to Camelot] Now Sir Launcelot came

to Camelot about eventide, what time King Arthur and his court were

assembled at their supper. Then there was great joy when news was brought

of his coming and they brought him in to the court and set him beside the

King and the Lady Guinevere all armed as he was. Then King Arthur said:

"Sir Launcelot, how is it with thee?" and Sir Launcelot said: "It is well."

Then King Arthur said: "Tell us what hath befallen thee." And Sir Launcelot

told all that had happened in that month since he had left court. And all

they who were there listened, and were much astonished.

But when Sir Launcelot told how he had encountered those seven knights, in

the armor of Sir Kay, all laughed beyond measure excepting those of the

seven who were there, for they took no very good grace to be laughed at in

that wise.

* * * * *

So now I hope I have made you acquainted with Sir Launcelot of the Lake,

who was the greatest knight in the world. For not only have I told you how

he was created a knight at the hands of King Arthur, but I have also led

you errant along with him, so that you might see for yourself how he

adventured his life for other folk and what a noble and generous gentleman

he was; and how pitiful to the weak and suffering, and how terrible to the

evil-doer. But now I shall have to leave him for a while (but after a while

in another book that shall follow this, I shall return to him to tell you a

great many things concerning other adventures of his), for meantime it is

necessary that I should recount the history of another knight, who was held

by many to be nearly as excellent a knight as Sir Launcelot was himself.

CONCLUSION

_Here endeth the story of Sir Launcelot. That which followeth is the story

of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, who was knit with Sir Launcelot into such

close ties of friendship that if they had been brothers of the same blood,

with the same father and mother, they could not have loved one another more

than they did.

For indeed it would not be possible to tell any history of Sir Launcelot of

the Lake without telling that of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse as well, for as

the web of a fair fabric is woven in with the woof thereof, so were the

lives of Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram woven closely together.

Wherefore you shall now hear tell of the goodly adventures of Sir Tristram

of Lyonesse; and God grant that you may have the same joy in reading

thereof that I shall have in telling of them to you._

The Book of Sir Tristram

[Illustration: Sir Tristram of Lyonesse]

Prologue.

There was a certain kingdom called Lyonesse, and the King of that country

was hight Meliadus, and the Queen thereof who was hight the Lady Elizabeth,

was sister to King Mark of Cornwall.

In the country of Lyonesse, there was a very beautiful lady, who was a

cunning and wicked sorceress. This lady took great love for King Meliadus,

who was of an exceedingly noble appearance, and she meditated continually

how she might bring him to her castle so as to have him near her.

[Sidenote: King Meliadus rides a-hunting] Now King Meliadus was a very

famous huntsman, and he loved the chase above all things in the world,

excepting the joy he took in the love of his Queen, the Lady Elizabeth. So,

upon a certain day, in the late autumn season he was minded to go forth

a-hunting, although the day was very cold and bleak.

About the prime of the day the hounds started, of a sudden, a very

wonderful stag. For it was white and its horns were gilded very bright,

shining like pure gold, so that the creature itself appeared like a living

miracle in the forest. When this stag broke cover, the hounds immediately

set chase to it with a great outcry of yelling, as though they were

suddenly gone frantic, and when the King beheld the creature, he also was

immediately seized as with a great fury for chasing it. For, beholding it,

he shouted aloud and drove spurs into his horse, and rushed away at such a

pass that his court was, in a little while, left altogether behind him, and

he and the chase were entirely alone in the forest.

[Sidenote: King Meliadus chases the stag] The stag, with the hounds close

behind it, ran at a great rate through the passes of the woodlands, and

King Meliadus pursued it with might and main until the chase burst out of

the forest into an open plain beyond the woodland. Then King Meliadus

beheld that in the midst of the plain was a considerable lake of water; and

that in the midst of the water was an island; and that upon the island was

a very tall and stately castle. Toward this castle the stag ran with great

speed, and so, coming to the lake, it leaped into the water and swam across

to the island--and there was a thin sheet of clear ice upon the water close

to either bank.

But when the hounds that pursued the stag came to that frozen water, they

stinted their pursuit and stood whimpering upon the brink, for the ice and

the water repelled them. But King Meliadus made no such pause, but

immediately leaped off from his horse, and plunged into the water and swam

across in pursuit of the stag. And when he reached the other side, he

chased the stag afoot with great speed, and therewith the stag ran to the

castle and into the court-yard thereof, and King Meliadus ran after it.

Then, immediately he had entered in, the gates of the castle were shut and

King Meliadus was a prisoner.

[Sidenote: King Meliadus is made prisoner at an enchanted castle] (Now you

are to know that that castle was the abode of the beautiful enchantress

afore spoken of, and you are to know that she had sent that enchanted stag

to beguile King Meliadus to her court, and so she made King Meliadus her

captive. Further, it is to be told that when she had him there within her

castle, she wove a web of enchantment all about him so that he forgot the

Lady Elizabeth and his court and his kingdom and thought of nothing but

that beautiful sorceress who had thus beguiled him into her power.)

[Sidenote: The Lady Elizabeth grieves to distraction] Now, when those who

were with the King returned to the castle of Lyonesse without him, and when

the King did not return that day nor the next day nor at any time, the Lady

Elizabeth grew more and more distracted in her anxiety because of him. And

when a fortnight had gone by and still there was no news of the King, her

grief and apprehension became so great that she turned distracted and they

had to set watch and ward upon her lest she do herself a harm in her

madness.

So for a long time they kept her within the castle; but upon a certain day

she broke away from her keepers and ran out from the castle and into the

forest ere those in attendance upon her knew she had gone. Only one

gentlewoman saw her, and she called upon a young page to follow her, and

thereupon ran after the Queen whither she went, with intent to bring her

back again.

[Sidenote: The Lady Elizabeth escapes into the forest] But the Lady

Elizabeth ran very deep into the forest, and the gentlewoman and the page

ran after her; and the Queen thought that she was going to find her lord in

the forest. So she ran very rapidly for a great distance, until by and by

she waxed faint with weariness from running and sank down upon the ground;

and there they that followed her found her lying. And they found that the

Queen was in a great passion of pain and sick to death. For the day was

very wintry, with a fine powder of snow all over the ground, so that the

cold of the weather pierced through the garments of the Lady Elizabeth and

entered into her body and chilled her to the heart.

Now the gentlewoman, seeing how it was with the Queen, called the page to

her and said: "Make haste! Go back to the castle of Lyonesse, and bring

some of the knights of the castle with all speed, else the Queen will die

at this place." And upon that the page ran off with great speed to do her

bidding and the Queen was left alone with her gentlewoman.

Then the gentlewoman said, "Lady, what cheer?" And the Queen said, "Alas, I

am sick to death." The gentlewoman said, "Lady, cannot you bear up a little

until help cometh?" Thereupon the Lady Elizabeth fell to weeping very

piteously, and said, "Nay, I cannot bear up any longer, for the cold hath

entered into my heart." (Yea, even at that time death was upon her because

of the cold at her heart.)

Then by and by in the midst of her tears and in very sore travail a

man-child was born to the Queen, and when that came to pass a great peace

fell suddenly upon her.

[Sidenote: How Tristram is born in the forest] Then she said, speaking to

the nurse like one in great weariness, "What child is it that I have given

unto the world?" The nurse said, "It is a man-child." The Queen said to

her, "Hold him up until I see him." Thereupon the nurse held the child up

and the Queen looked at him, though she could hardly see him because it was

as though a mist lay upon her eyes which she could not clear away from her

sight; for at that time she was drawing deep draughts of death. Then, when

she had seen the child and had beheld that he was very strong and lusty and

exceedingly comely, she said: "Behold, this is my child, born in the midst

of sore travail and great sorrow; wherefore his name shall be called

Tristram because he hath caused so many tears to be shed."

Then in a little while the Lady died, and the gentlewoman stood weeping

beside her, making great outcry in that cold and lonely forest.

Anon there came those knights who were sent from the castle to find the

Queen; and when they came to that place, they beheld that she lay upon the

ground all cold and white like to a statue of marble stone. So they lifted

her up and bare her away upon a litter, and the gentlewoman followed

weeping and wailing in great measure, and bearing the child wrapped in a

mantle.

So Tristram was born in that wise, and so his name was given to him because

of the tears that were shed at his birth.

And now it is to be told how King Meliadus returned from that castle of

enchantment where he was held prisoner.

[Sidenote: King Meliadus is released from durance] At this time Merlin was

still living in the world, for Vivien had not yet bewitched him, as hath

been told in the Book of King Arthur. So by and by it came to pass that he

discovered where King Meliadus was imprisoned and how it fared with him in

the castle of that enchantress. So he made greater spells than those that

enmeshed King Meliadus, and he brought King Meliadus back into his memory

of the Queen and his kingdom. Then straightway the King broke out from the

castle of the enchantress and returned to his kingdom. But when he came

there it was to find everything in great sorrow and dole; for the Lady

Elizabeth was no longer upon this earth to bring joy to the heart of the

King. So for a long while after his return King Meliadus lay altogether

stricken down with the grief of that bereavement.

Here followeth the story of Tristram, how he passed his youth, and how he

became a knight of Cornwall of King Mark's making.

PART I

The Story of Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult

_Here followeth the story of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, who, with Sir

Launcelot of the Lake, was deemed to be one of the two most worthy and

perfect knights champion of his day.

Likewise herein shall be told the story of the Lady Belle Isoult, who next

to Queen Guinevere, was reckoned to be the most fair, gentle lady in all of

the world._

[Illustration: Tristram succors the Lady Moeya]

Chapter First

_How the new Queen of Lyonesse sought Tristram's life; how he went to

France, and how he returned again to Lyonesse and was received with love at

that place._

So King Meliadus grieved very bitterly for the Lady Elizabeth for the space

of seven years, and in that time he took but little pleasure in life, and

still less pleasure in that son who had been born to him in that wise. Then

one day a certain counsellor who was in great favor with the King came to

him and said: "Lord, it is not fitting that you should live in this wise

and without a mate; for you should have a queen, and you should have other

children besides Tristram, else all the fate of this kingdom shall depend

upon the life of that one small child."

[Sidenote: King Meliadus taketh the Lady Moeya to second wife] And King

Meliadus took this counsel to heart, and after a while he said: "What you

tell me is true, and so I shall take another Queen, even though it is not

in me to love any other woman in all of the world but that dear one who is

dead and gone." So a while after that he took to wife the Lady Moeya, who

was the daughter of King Howell of Britain.

Now Queen Moeya had been married to an Earl of Britain, and by him she had

a son who was about the age of Tristram. So she brought this son to

Lyonesse with her, and he and Tristram were very good companions.

But the Lady Moeya took great hatred of Tristram, for she said in her

heart: "Except for this Tristram, mayhap my son might be King and overlord

of this land." And these thoughts brooded with her, so that after a while

she began to meditate how she might make away with Tristram so that her own

son might come into his inheritance.

Now at that time Tristram was about thirteen years of age and very large

and robust of form and of extraordinary strength of body and beauty of

countenance. But the son of Queen Moeya was not of such a sort, so the more

beautiful and noble Tristram was the more the Queen hated him. So one day

she called to her a very cunning chemist and she said to him: "Give me a

drink of such and such a sort, so that he who drinks thereof shall

certainly die, maugre help of any kind." And the chemist gave her what she

desired, and it was in a phial and was of a golden color.

[Sidenote: The Lady Moeya devises mischief against Tristram] Now Tristram

and the son of the Lady Moeya were wont to play ball in a certain court of

the castle, and when they would play there they would wax all of a heat

with their sport. This the Lady Moeya was well aware of; so one day she

took that phial of poison and she poured a part of it into a chalice and

she filled the chalice with clear water and she set the chalice upon a

bench where those two would play at ball. For she said to herself: "When

they grow warm with their play, Tristram will certainly drink of this water

to quench his thirst, and then my son will maybe enter into his

inheritance."

[Sidenote: The son of the Queen drinks of the poison] So the two youths

played very fiercely at their game, and they waxed exceedingly hot and

presently were both very violently athirst. Then Tristram said, "I would I

had somewhat to drink," and his stepbrother said, "Look, yonder is a

chalice of water; drink! and when thou hast quenched thy thirst, then I

will drink also." But Tristram said: "Nay, brother, drink thou first, for

thou art more athirst than I." Then at first the son of the Lady Moeya

would not have it so, but would have Tristram drink; but afterward he did

as Tristram bade him, and, taking the chalice in both hands, he drank

freely of that poison which his own mother had prepared. Then when he had

drunk his fill, Tristram took the chalice and would have drunk too; but the

other said, "Stay, Tristram, there is great bitterness in that chalice";

and then he said, "Methinks I feel a very bitter pang within my vitals,"

and then he cried out, "Woe is me! I am in great pain!" Therewith he fell

down upon the ground and lay there in a great passion of agony. Then

Tristram cried aloud for help in a piercing voice; but when help came

thither it was too late, for the son of the Lady Moeya was dead.

Then the Lady Moeva was in great torment of soul, and beat her breast and

tore her hair and King Meliadus had much ado for to comfort her. And after

this she hated Tristram worse than ever before, for she would say to

herself: "Except for this Tristram, my own son would yet be alive!"

So she brooded upon these things until she could not rest, whether by day

or night. Then one day she took the rest of the poison that was in the

phial and poured it into a goblet of yellow wine. This goblet she gave to

one of her pages, saying: "Take this to Tristram, and offer it to him when

I shall tell you to do so!"

[Sidenote: The Lady Moeya seeks Tristram's life a second time] Therewith

she went down to the hall where Tristram was, and she said, "Tristram, let

there be peace betwixt us." And Tristram said: "Lady, that meets my wishes,

for I have never had in my heart aught but loving-kindness toward you, and

so I would have it in your heart toward me." With this the page came in the

hall with that goblet of yellow wine. Then the Lady Moeya took the goblet

and said: "Take this cup, and drink of the wine that is in it, and so there

shall be peace betwixt us forever." And as she said that she looked very

strangely upon Tristram, but Tristram was altogether innocent of any evil

against him. So he reached out his hand to take the cup which the page

brought to him.

Now at that moment King Meliadus came into the hall fresh from the chase,

and he was much heated and greatly athirst, wherefore, when he saw that cup

of wine he said: "Stay, Tristram, let me drink, for I am greatly athirst.

After I have quenched my thirst, then thou shalt drink."

Therewith he took the goblet of wine and made to lift it to his lips. But

at that the Lady Moeya cried out, in a very loud and piercing voice, "Do

not drink of that wine!" The King said, "Why should I not drink of it?" "No

matter," said the Lady Moeya, "thou shalt not drink of it, for there is

death in it."

Therewith she ran to the King and catched him by the hand, and she plucked

away the goblet so that the wine was spilled out of it upon the ground.

[Sidenote: King Meliadus threatens to slay the Queen] Then King Meliadus

gazed at the Lady Moeya, and he thought of many things in very little time.

Thereupon he seized her by the hair and dragged her forward, so that she

fell down upon her hands and knees to the pavement of the hall. And King

Meliadus drew his great sword so that it flashed like lightning, and he

cried: "Tell me what thou hast done, and tell me quickly, or thou shalt not

be able to tell me at all!" Then the Lady Moeya clutched King Meliadus

about the thighs, and she cried out: "Do not slay me with thine own hand,

or else my blood will stain thee with dishonor! I will tell thee all, and

then thou mayst deal with me according to the law, for indeed I am not fit

to live." So therewithal the Lady Moeya confessed everything to the King.

Then King Meliadus shouted aloud and called the attendants and said: "Take

this woman and cast her into prison, and see that no harm befall her there;

for the lords of this country shall adjudge her, and not I." And therewith

he turned away and left her.

And thereafter, in due season, the Lady Moeya was brought to trial and was

condemned to be burned at the stake.

[Sidenote: Tristram begs mercy for the Queen] Now when the day came that

she was to be burnt, Tristram was very sorry for her. So when he beheld her

tied fast to the stake he came to where King Meliadus was and he kneeled

before him, and he said, "Father, I crave a boon of thee." Thereupon King

Meliadus looked upon Tristram, and he loved him very tenderly and he said:

"My son, ask what thou wilt, and it shall be thine." Then Tristram said:

"Father, I pray thee, spare the life of this lady, for methinks she hath

repented her of her evil, and surely God hath punished her very sorely for

the wickedness she hath tried to do."

Then King Meliadus was very wroth that Tristram should interfere with the

law; but yet he had granted that boon to his son and could not withdraw. So

after a while of thought he said: "Well, I have promised, and so I will

perform my promise. Her life is thine; go to the stake and take her. But

when thou hast done so I bid thee go forth from this place and show thy

face here no more. For thou hast interfered with the law, and hast done ill

that thou, the son of the King, should save this murderess. So thou shalt

leave this place, for I mistrust that between you two some murder will

befall in this country."

So Tristram went weeping to where the Queen was bound to the stake; and he

cut her bonds with his dagger and set her free. And he said: "Lady, thou

art free; now go thy way, and may God forgive thee as I do." Then the Queen

wept also, and said, "Tristram, thou art very good to me." And because she

was barefoot and in her shift, Tristram took his cloak and wrapped it about

her.

[Sidenote: Tristram departs from Lyonesse] After that, Tristram

straightway left Lyonesse, and King Meliadus appointed that a noble and

honorable lord of the court, hight Gouvernail, should go with him. They two

went to France, and there they were made very welcome at the court of the

King. So Tristram dwelt in France till he was eighteen years old, and

everyone at the court of the King of France loved him and honored him so

that he dwelt there as though he were of the blood of France.

During the time that he was in France he became the greatest hunter in the

world, and he wrote many books on venery that were read and studied long

after he had ceased to live. Also he became so skilful with the harp that

no minstrel in the world was his equal. And ever he waxed more sturdy of

frame and more beautiful of countenance, and more well-taught in all the

worship of knighthood. For during that time he became so wonderfully

excellent in arms that there was no one in France who was his equal.

Thus Tristram dwelt at peace in that land for five years, but even he

longed for his own home with all the might and main of his heart. So one

day he said to Gouvernail: "Gouvernail, I cannot deny myself any longer

from seeing my father and my own country, for I feel that I must see them

or else my heart will certainly break because of its great longing." Nor

would he listen to anything that Gouvernail might say contrary to this. So

they two took their departure from France, and Tristram travelled as a

harper and Gouvernail as his attendant. Thus they came to Lyonesse in that

wise.

[Sidenote: How Tristram returns to Lyonesse] One day whilst King Meliadus

sat at meat, they two came into the hall, and Gouvernail wore a long white

beard which altogether disguised him so that no one knew him. But Tristram

shone with such a great radiance of beauty and of youth that all who looked

upon him marvelled at him. And the heart of King Meliadus went out to

Tristram very strongly, and he said before all of his court, "Who art thou,

fair youth? And whence comest thou?" To which Tristram made reply: "Lord, I

am a harper, and this is my man, and we have come from France." Then King

Meliadus said to Tristram: "Sir, have you seen a youth in France whom men

call Tristram?" And Tristram replied, "Yea, I have seen him several times."

King Meliadus said, "Doth he do well?" "Yea," said Tristram, "he doeth very

well, though at times he is sore oppressed with a great desire for his own

country." At this King Meliadus turned away his face, for his heart went

very strongly out at the thought of his son. Then by and by he said to

Tristram, "Wilt thou play upon thy harp?" And Tristram said, "Yea, if it

will please thee to hear me." Therewith he took his harp and he set it

before him, and he struck the strings and played upon it, and he sang in

such a wise that no one who was there had ever heard the like thereof.

Then King Meliadus' heart was melted at Tristram's minstrelsy, and he said:

"That is wonderful harping. Now ask what thou wilt of me, and it shall be

thine, whatever it may be."

To this Tristram said, "Lord, that is a great thing that thou sayest."

"Nevertheless," said King Meliadus, "it shall be as I say." Then Tristram

left his harp and he came to where King Meliadus sat, and he kneeled down

before him and he said: "Lord, if so be that is the case, then that which I

ask of thee is this: that thou wilt forgive me and bring me back into thy

favor again."

[Sidenote: King Meliadus is reconciled to Tristram] At that King Meliadus

was filled with a great wonder, and he said: "Fair youth, who art thou, and

what have I to forgive thee?" "Lord," said Tristram, "I am thy son, and ask

thee to forgive me that I should have saved the life of that lady who is

thy Queen."

At this King Meliadus cried out with joy, and he came down from where he

sat and he took Tristram into his arms and kissed him upon the face, and

Tristram wept and kissed his father upon the face.

So they were reconciled.

After that, Tristram abode in peace in Lyonesse for some while, and during

that time he made peace betwixt King Meliadus and Queen Moeya, and the

Queen loved him because he was so good to her.

[Sidenote: Tristram refuses knighthood] Now after the return of Tristram

as aforesaid, King Meliadus would have made him a knight, but Tristram

would not suffer the honor of knighthood to be bestowed upon him at that

time, but always said: "Lord, think not ill of me if I do not accept

knighthood at this time. For I would fain wait until the chance for some

large adventure cometh; then I would be made a knight for to meet that

adventure, so that I might immediately win renown. For what credit could

there be to our house if I should be made knight, only that I might sit in

hall and feast and drink and make merry?"

So spoke Sir Tristram, and his words sounded well to King Meliadus,

wherefore from thenceforth King Meliadus refrained from urging knighthood

upon him.

Now the way that Sir Tristram achieved knighthood shall be told in that

which followeth, and also it shall then be told how he fought his first

battle, which was one of the most famous that ever he fought in all of his

life.

[Illustration: King Mark of Cornwall]

Chapter Second

_How Sir Tristram was made knight by the King of Cornwall, and

how he fought a battle with a famous champion._

Now first of all it is to be here said that at that time there was great

trouble come to King Mark of Cornwall (who, as aforesaid, was uncle to Sir

Tristram) and the trouble was this:

[Sidenote: The King of Ireland claims truage of Cornwall] The King of

Cornwall and the King of Ireland had great debate concerning an island that

lay in the sea betwixt Cornwall and Ireland. For though that island was

held by Cornwall, yet the King of Ireland laid claim to it and demanded

that the King of Cornwall should pay him truage for the same. This King

Mark refused to do, and there was great contention betwixt Cornwall and

Ireland, so that each country made ready for war.

But the King of Ireland said: "Let there not be war betwixt Ireland and

Cornwall concerning this disagreement, but let us settle this affair in

some other way. Let us each choose a champion and let those two champions

decide the rights of this case by a combat at arms. For so the truth shall

be made manifest."

Now you are to know that at that time the knights of Cornwall were held in

great disregard by all courts of chivalry; for there was not in those days

any knight of repute in all the court of Cornwall. Wherefore King Mark knew

not where he should find him a champion to meet that challenge from the

King of Ireland. Yet he must needs meet it, for he was ashamed to refuse

such a challenge as that, and so to acknowledge that Cornwall had no

knight-champion to defend it. So he said it should be as the King of

Ireland would have it, and that if the King of Ireland would choose a

champion, he also would do the same.

[Sidenote: The King of Ireland chooses Sir Marhaus for his champion]

Thereupon the King of Ireland chose for his champion Sir Marhaus of

Ireland, who was one of the greatest knights in the world. For in the Book

of King Arthur (which I wrote aforetime) you may there read in the story of

Sir Pellias how great and puissant a champion Sir Marhaus was, and how he

overthrew Sir Gawaine and others with the greatest ease. Wherefore at that

time he was believed by many to be the greatest knight in the world (it

being before the days of Sir Launcelot of the Lake), and even in the days

of Sir Launcelot it was doubted whether he or Sir Launcelot were the

greater champion.

So King Mark could not find any knight in Cornwall to stand against Sir

Marhaus. Nor could he easily find any knight outside of Cornwall to do

battle with him. For Sir Marhaus, being a knight of the Round Table, no

other knight of the Round Table would fight against him--and there were no

other knights so great as that famous brotherhood of the Table Round.

Accordingly, King Mark knew not where to turn to find him a champion to do

battle in his behalf.

In this strait, King Mark sent a letter by a messenger to Lyonesse, asking

if there was any knight at Lyonesse who would stand his champion against

Sir Marhaus, and he offered great reward if such a champion would undertake

his cause against Ireland.

[Sidenote: Tristram asks leave to go to Cornwall] Now when young Tristram

heard this letter of his uncle King Mark, he straightway went to his father

and said: "Sire, some whiles ago you desired that I should become a knight.

Now I would that you would let me go to Cornwall upon this occasion. For

when I come there I will beseech my uncle King Mark to make me a knight,

and then I will go out against Sir Marhaus. For I have a great mind to

undertake this adventure in behalf of King Mark, and to stand his champion

against Sir Marhaus. For though Sir Marhaus is so great a knight and so

famous a hero, yet if I should have the good fortune to overcome him in

battle, there would, certes, be great glory to our house through my

knighthood."

Then King Meliadus looked upon Tristram and loved him very dearly, and he

said: "Tristram, thou hast assuredly a very great heart to undertake this

adventure, which no one else will essay. So I bid thee go, in God's name,

if so be thy heart bids thee to go. For maybe God will lend the strength

necessary to carry this adventure through to a successful issue."

So that very day Tristram departed from Lyonesse for Cornwall, taking with

him only Gouvernail as his companion. So, by ship, he reached Cornwall, and

the castle of Tintagel, where King Mark was then holding court.

And it was at the sloping of the afternoon when he so came, and at that

time King Mark was sitting in hall with many of his knights and lords about

him. And the King was brooding in great trouble of spirit. Unto him came an

attendant, saying: "Lord, there are two strangers who stand without, and

crave to be admitted to your presence. One of them hath great dignity and

sobriety of demeanor, and the other, who is a youth, is of so noble and

stately an appearance that I do not believe his like is to be found in the

entire world."

To this the King said, "Show them in."

[Sidenote: Tristram and Gouvernail come to Cornwall] So those two were

immediately admitted into the hall and came and stood before King Mark; and

the one of them was Gouvernail and the other was young Tristram. So

Tristram stood forth before Gouvernail and Gouvernail bore the harp of

Tristram, and the harp was of gold and shone most brightly and beautifully.

Then King Mark looked upon Tristram, and marvelled at his size and beauty;

for Tristram stood above any man in that place, so that he looked like a

hero amongst them. His brow was as white as milk and his lips were red like

to coral and his hair was as red as gold and as plentiful as the mane of a

young lion, and his neck was thick and sturdy and straight like to a round

pillar of white-stone, and he was clad in garments of blue silk embroidered

very cunningly with threads of gold and set with a countless multitude of

gems of divers colors. So because of all this he glistened with a singular

radiance of richness and beauty.

So King Mark marvelled at the haughtiness of Tristram's appearance, and he

felt his heart drawn toward Tristram with love and admiration. Then, after

a little, he spoke, saying: "Fair youth, who are you, and whence come you,

and what is it you would have of me?"

[Sidenote: Tristram offers himself as champion for Cornwall] "Lord," said

Tristram, "my name is Tristram, and I come from the country of Lyonesse,

where your own sister was one time Queen. Touching the purpose of my coming

hither, it is this: having heard that you are in need of a champion to

contend for your rights against the champion of Ireland, I come hither to

say that if you will make me a knight with your own hand, I will take it

upon me to stand your champion and to meet Sir Marhaus of Ireland upon your

behalf."

Then King Mark was filled with wonder at the courage of Tristram, and he

said: "Fair youth, are you not aware that Sir Marhaus of Ireland is a

knight well set in years and of such great and accredited deeds of arms

that it is supposed that, excepting Sir Launcelot of the Lake, there is not

his peer in any court of chivalry in all of the world? How then can you,

who are altogether new to the use of arms, hope to stand against so

renowned a champion as he?"

"Lord," quoth Tristram, "I am well aware of what sort of knight Sir Marhaus

is, and I am very well aware of the great danger of this undertaking. Yet

if one who covets knighthood shall fear to face a danger, what virtue would

there then be in the chivalry of knighthood? So, Messire, I put my trust in

God, His mercies, and I have great hope that He will lend me both courage

and strength in my time of need."

Then King Mark began to take great joy, for he said to himself: "Maybe this

youth shall indeed bring me forth in safety out of these dangers that

menace my honor." So he said: "Tristram, I do believe that you will stand a

very excellent chance of success in this undertaking, wherefore it shall be

as you desire; I will make you a knight, and besides that I will fit you

with armor and accoutrements in all ways becoming to the estate of a

knight-royal. Likewise I will provide you a Flemish horse of the best

strain, so that you shall be both furnished and horsed as well as any

knight in the world hath ever been."

[Sidenote: Tristram is made knight-royal] So that night Tristram watched

his armor in the chapel of the castle, and the next day he was made knight

with all the circumstances appertaining to a ceremony of such solemnity as

that. And upon the afternoon of the day upon which he was thus made knight,

King Mark purveyed a ship in all ways befitting the occasion, and in the

ship Tristram and Gouvernail set sail for that island where Sir Marhaus was

known to be abiding at that time.

Now upon the second day of their voyaging and about the middle of the day

they came to a land which they knew must be the place which they were

seeking, and there the sailors made a safe harbor. As soon as they were at

anchor a gangway was set from the ship to the shore and Sir Tristram and

Gouvernail drave their horses across the gangway and so to the dry land.

Thereafter they rode forward for a considerable distance, until about the

first slanting of the afternoon they perceived in the distance three very

fair ships drawn up close to the shore. And then they were aware of a

knight, clad in full armor and seated upon a noble horse under the shadow

of those ships, and they wist that that must be he whom Sir Tristram

sought.

Then Gouvernail spake to Sir Tristram, saying: "Sir, that knight resting

yonder beneath the shelter of the ships must be Sir Marhaus."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram goes forth to meet Sir Marhaus] "Yea," said Sir

Tristram, "that is assuredly he." So he gazed very steadily at the knight

for a long while, and by and by he said: "Gouvernail, yonder seems to me to

be a very great and haughty knight for a knight so young as I am to have to

do with in his first battle; yet if God will lend me His strong aid in this

affair, I shall assuredly win me great credit at his hands." Then after

another short while he said: "Now go, Gouvernail, and leave me alone in

this affair, for I do not choose for anyone to be by when I have to do with

yonder knight. For either I shall overcome him in this combat or else I

will lay down my life at this place. For the case is thus, Gouvernail; if

Sir Marhaus should overcome me and if I should yield me to him as

vanquished, then mine uncle must pay truage to the King of Ireland for the

land of Cornwall; but if I died without yielding me to mine enemy, then he

must yet do battle with another champion at another time, if my uncle the

King can find such an one to do battle in his behalf. So I am determined

either to win this battle or to die therein."

Now when Gouvernail heard this, he fell a-weeping in great measure; and he

cried out: "Sir, let not this battle be of that sort!" To him Sir Tristram

said very steadfastly: "Say no more, Gouvernail, but go as I bid thee."

Whereupon Gouvernail turned and went away, as he was bidden to do, weeping

very bitterly as he went.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram proclaims his degree] Now by this Sir Marhaus had

caught sight of Sir Tristram where he stood in that field, and so presently

he came riding thitherward to meet Sir Tristram. When he had come nigh, Sir

Marhaus said: "Who art thou, Sir Knight?" Unto these Sir Tristram made

reply: "Sir, I am Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, son of King Meliadus of that

land, and nephew of King Mark of Cornwall. I am come to do battle upon

behalf of the King of Cornwall, to release him from the demands of truage

made by the King of Ireland." Quoth Sir Marhaus: "Messire, are you a knight

of approval and of battles?" "Nay," said Sir Tristram, "I have only been

created knight these three days."

"Alas!" said Sir Marhaus, "I am very sorry for thee and for thy noble

courage that hath brought thee hither to this place. Thou art not fit to

have to do with me, for I am one who hath fought in more than twice twenty

battles, each one of which was, I believe, greater than this is like to be.

Also I have matched me with the very best knights in the world, and have

never yet been overcome. So I advise thee, because of thy extreme youth, to

return to King Mark and bid him send me another champion in thy stead, who

shall be better seasoned than thou art."

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "I give thee gramercy for thy advice. But I may

tell thee that I was made knight for no other purpose than to do battle

with thee; so I may not return without having fulfilled mine adventure.

Moreover, because of thy great renown and thy courage and prowess, I feel

all the more desirous to have to do with thee; for if I should die at thy

hand, then there will be no shame to me, but if I should win this battle

from thee, then I shall have very great renown in the courts of chivalry."

"Well," said Sir Marhaus, "it is not likely that thou shalt die at my hand.

For because of thy youth I will not have it that this battle shall be so

desperate as that." "Say not so," said Sir Tristram, "for either I shall

die at thy hand, or else I shall overcome thee in this battle, for I make

my vow to God that I will not yield myself to thee so long as there is life

within my body."

"Alas!" said Sir Marhaus, "that is certes a great pity. But as thou hast

foreordained it, so it must needs be." Therewith he saluted Sir Tristram

and drew rein and rode aside to a little distance where he straightway made

ready for that battle. Nor was Sir Tristram behind him in making

preparation, albeit he was filled with doubts as to the outcome of that

undertaking.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is wounded] Then when they were in all ways

prepared, each gave shout and drave spurs into his horse and rushed toward

the other with such fury that it was terrible to behold. And each smote the

other with his spear in the centre of his shield, and in that encounter Sir

Marhaus smote through Sir Tristram's shield and gave Sir Tristram a great

wound in his side. Then Sir Tristram felt the blood gush out of that wound

in such abundance that it filled his iron boots, so that they were sodden

therewith, and he thought he had got his death-wound. But in spite of that

grievous bitter stroke, he held his seat and was not overthrown. Then so

soon as he had recovered himself he voided his horse and drew his sword and

set his shield before him; and when Sir Marhaus saw his preparations, he

likewise voided his horse and made ready for battle upon foot. So

straightway they came together with terrible fury, lashing at each other

with such fearful strength and evil will that it was dreadful to behold.

And each gave the other many grievous strokes, so that whole pieces of

armor were hewn off from their bodies; and each gave the other many deep

wounds, so that that part of the armor that still hung to them became red

as though it were painted with red. Likewise the ground was all besprinkled

red where they stood, yet neither gave any thought to quitting that battle

in which they were engaged.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram gives Sir Marhaus a death-wound] Now for a while

Sir Tristram feared because of the wound which he had at first received

that he would die in that battle, but by and by he perceived that he was

stouter than Sir Marhaus and better winded; wherefore great hope came to

him and uplifted him with redoubled strength. Then presently Sir Marhaus

fell back a little and when Sir Tristram perceived that he ran in upon him

and smote him several times, such direful strokes that Sir Marhaus could

not hold up his shield against that assault. Then Sir Tristram perceived

that Sir Marhaus was no longer able to hold up his shield, and therewith he

smote him a great blow with his sword upon the helmet. So direful was that

blow that the sword of Sir Tristram pierced very deep through the helm of

Sir Marhaus and into the brainpan. And Sir Tristram's sword stuck fast in

the helm and the brain-pan of Sir Marhaus so that Sir Tristram could not

pull it out again. Then Sir Marhaus, half a-swoon, fell down upon his

knees, and therewith a part of the edge of the blade brake off from Sir

Tristram's sword, and remained in the wound that he had given to Sir

Marhaus.

[Sidenote: Sir Marhaus leaves the field] Then Sir Marhaus was aware that

he had got his death-wound, wherefore a certain strength came to him so

that he rose to his feet staggering like a drunken man. And at first he

began going about in a circle and crying most dolorously. Then as he wist

all that had happed he threw away his sword and his shield, and made away

from that place, staggering and stumbling like one who had gone blind; for

he was all bewildered with that mortal wound, and wist not very well what

he was doing or whither he was going. Then Sir Tristram would have made

after him to stop him, but he could not do so because he himself was so

sorely wounded and so weak from the loss of blood. Yet he called after Sir

Marhaus: "Stay, stay, Sir Knight! Let us finish this battle now we are

about it!" But to this Sir Marhaus made no answer, but went on down to his

ships, staggering and stumbling like a blind man as aforesaid, for the sore

wound which he had received still lent him a false strength of body so that

he was able to go his way. Then those who were aboard the ships, beholding

him thus coming staggering toward them, came down and met him and lifted

him up and bore him away to his own ship. Thereafter, as soon as might be

they hoisted sail and lifted anchor and took their way from that place.

Then by and by came Gouvernail and several others of Sir Tristram's party

to where Sir Tristram was; and there they found him leaning upon his sword

and groaning very sorely because of the great wound in his side. So

presently they perceived that he could not walk, wherefore they lifted him

up upon his own shield and bore him thence to that ship that had brought

him thither.

And when they had come to the ship they laid him down upon a couch and

stripped him of his armor to search his wounds. Then they beheld what a

great wound it was that Sir Marhaus had given him in the side, and they

lifted up their voices in sorrow, for they all believed that he would die.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristam returns to Cornwall] So they set sail, and in two

days brought him back to King Mark, where he sat at Tintagel in Cornwall.

And when King Mark saw how pale and wan and weak Sir Tristram was, he wept

and grieved very sorely for sorrow of that sight, for he too thought that

Sir Tristram was certainly about to die.

But Sir Tristram smiled upon King Mark, and he said: "Lord, have I done

well for thy sake?" And King Mark said, "Yea," and fell to weeping again.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram proclaims himself to King Mark] "Then," quoth

Tristram, "it is time for me to tell thee who I am who have saved thy

kingdom from the shame of having to pay truage to Ireland, and that I am

thine own sister's son. For my father is King Meliadus of Lyonesse, and my

mother was the Lady Elizabeth, who was thine own sister till God took her

soul to Paradise to dwell there with His angels."

But when King Mark heard this he went forth from that place and into his

own chamber. And when he had come there he fell down upon his knees and

cried out aloud: "Alas, alas, that this should be! Rather, God, would I

lose my entire kingdom than that my sister's son should come to his death

in this wise!"

Now it remaineth to say of Sir Marhaus that those who were with him brought

him back to Ireland and that there in a little while he died of the wound

that Sir Tristram had given him upon the head. But ere he died, and whilst

they were dressing that hurt, the Queen of Ireland, who was sister to Sir

Marhaus, discovered the broken piece of the blade still in that grim wound.

This she drew forth and set aside, and hid very carefully, saying to

herself: "If ever I meet that knight to whose sword this piece of blade

fitteth, then it will be an evil day for him."

Thus I have told you all the circumstances of that great battle betwixt Sir

Tristram of Lyonesse and Sir Marhaus of Ireland. And now you shall hear how

it befell Sir Tristram thereafter; so harken to what followeth.

[Illustration: The Lady Belle Isoult]

Chapter Third

_How Sir Tristram went to Ireland to be healed of his wound by the King's

daughter of Ireland, and of how he came to love the Lady Belle Isoult. Also

concerning Sir Palamydes and the Lady Belle Isoult._

Now that grievous hurt which Sir Tristram had received at the hands of Sir

Marhaus did not heal, but instead grew even more rankled and sore, so that

there were many who thought that there had been treachery practised and

that the spearhead had been poisoned to cause such a malignant disease as

that with which the wounded man suffered. So by and by Sir Tristram grew so

grievously sick of his hurt that all those who were near him thought that

he must certainly die.

Then King Mark sent everywhere and into all parts for the most wise and

learned leeches and chirurgeons to come to Cornwall and search the wounds

of Sir Tristram, but of all these no one could bring him any ease.

[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram lieth sick in Cornwall] Now one day there came

to the court of King Mark a very wise lady, who had travelled much in the

world and had great knowledge of wounds of all sorts. At the bidding of the

King, she went to where Sir Tristram lay, and searched the wound as so many

had already done. And when she had done that she came out of Sir Tristram's

chamber and unto King Mark, where he was waiting for her. Then King Mark

said to her: "Well, how will it be with yonder knight?" "Lord," quoth she,

"it is thus; I can do nothing to save his life, nor do I know of any one

who may save it unless it be the King's daughter of Ireland, who is known

as the Belle Isoult because of her wonderful beauty. She is the most

skilful leech in all of the world, and she alone may hope to bring Sir

Tristram back to life and health again, for I believe that if she fail no

one else can save him."

Then after the aforesaid lady had gone, King Mark went to where Sir

Tristram lay, and he told him all that she had said concerning his

condition; and King Mark said: "Tristram, wilt thou go to the King's

daughter of Ireland and let her search thy wound?"

Then Sir Tristram groaned at the thought of the weariness and pain of

moving, and he said: "Lord, this is a great undertaking for one who is so

sick. Moreover, it is a great risk for me, for, if I go to Ireland, and if

it be found that I am he who slew Sir Marhaus, then it is hardly likely

that I shall ever escape from that country again with my life. Ne'theless,

I am so sorely sick of this wound that I would rather die than live as I am

living; wherefore I will go to Ireland for the sake of being healed, if

such a thing is possible."

Accordingly, a little while after that, King Mark provided a ship to carry

Sir Tristram to Ireland. This ship he furnished with sails of silk of

divers colors, and he had it hung within with fine embroidered cloth, and

fabrics woven with threads of silver and gold, so that in its appearance it

was a worthy vessel even for a great king to sail in. Then, when all was

ready, King Mark had a number of attendants carry Sir Tristram down to the

ship in a litter, and he had them lay Sir Tristram upon a soft couch of

crimson satin, which was set upon the deck beneath a canopy of crimson

silk, embroidered with threads of silver and garnished with fringe of

silver, and Sir Tristram lay there at ease where the breezes of the ocean

came pleasantly to him, and breathed upon his face and his temples and his

hair and his hands with coolness; and Gouvernail was with Sir Tristram all

the while in attendance upon him.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sails to Ireland to have his wound searched] So

they set sail for Ireland, the weather being very fair and pleasant, and on

the third day, at about the time of sunset, they came to a part of the

coast of Ireland where there was a castle built upon the rocks that rose

out of the sea.

Now there were several fishermen fishing in boats near that castle, and of

these the pilot of Sir Tristram's boat made inquiry what castle that was.

To him the fisherman replied: "That castle is the castle of King Angus of

Ireland." And the fisherman said: "It so happens that the King and Queen

and their daughter, hight the Lady Belle Isoult, and all of their court are

there at this very while."

This Sir Tristram heard and said: "This is good news, for indeed I am very

sick and am right glad that my voyaging is ended." So he gave orders that

the pilot should bring the ship close under the walls of that castle, and

that he should there let go anchor; and the pilot did as Sir Tristram had

commanded him.

[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram came to Ireland] Now, as aforesaid, that ship

was of a very wonderful appearance, like to the ship of a king or a high

prince, wherefore many people came down to the walls of the castle and

stood there and gazed at the vessel as it sailed into the harbor. And by

that time the sun had set and all the air was illuminated with a marvellous

golden light; and in this sky of gold the moon hung like a shield of

silver, very bright and steady above the roofs and towers of the castle.

And there came from the land a pleasing perfume of blossoms; for it was

then in the fulness of the spring-time, and all the fruit-bearing trees

were luxuriant with bloom so that the soft air of evening was full of

fragrance thereby.

Then there came a great content into the heart of Sir Tristram, wherefore

he said to Gouvernail: "Gouvernail, either I shall soon be healed of this

wound, or else I shall presently die and enter into Paradise free of pain,

for I am become very full of content and of peace toward all men." And then

he said: "Bring me hither my harp, that I may play upon it a little, for I

have a desire to chant in this pleasant evening-time."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sings] So Gouvernail brought to Sir Tristram his

shining harp, and when Sir Tristram had taken it into his hands he tuned

it, and when he had tuned it he struck it and sang; and, because of the

stillness of the evening, his voice sounded marvellously clear and sweet

across the level water, so that those who stood upon the castle walls and

heard it thought that maybe an angel was singing on board of that ship.

That time the Lady Belle Isoult sat at the window of her bower enjoying the

pleasantness of the evening. She also heard Sir Tristram singing, and she

said to those damsels who were with her, "Ha, what is that I hear?"

Therewith she listened for a little while, and then she said: "Meseems that

must be the voice of some angel that is singing." They say: "Nay, Lady, it

is a wounded knight singing, and he came to this harbor in a wonderful ship

some while ago." Then the Lady Belle Isoult said to a page who was in

attendance: "Bid the King and Queen come hither, that they may hear this

singing also, for never did I think to hear such singing beyond the walls

of Paradise."

So the page ran with all speed, and in a little the King and Queen came to

the bower of the Lady Belle Isoult; and she and they leaned upon the

window-ledge and listened to Sir Tristram whilst he sang in the soft

twilight. Then by and by King Angus said: "Now I will have yonder minstrel

brought thither to this castle to do us pleasure, for I believe that he

must be the greatest minstrel in all the world to sing in that wise." And

the Lady Belle Isoult said: "I pray you, sir, do so, for it would be great

joy to everybody to have such singing as that in this place."

So King Angus sent a barge to that ship, and besought that he who sang

should be brought to the castle. At that Sir Tristram was very glad, for he

said: "Now I shall be brought to the Lady the Belle Isoult and maybe she

will heal me." So he had them bare him to the barge of the King of Ireland,

and so they brought him to the castle of King Angus, where they laid him

upon a bed in a fair room of the castle.

[Sidenote: King Angus cometh to Tristram] Then King Angus came to Sir

Tristram where he lay, and he said: "Messire what can I do for you to put

you more at your ease than you are?" "Lord," said Sir Tristram, "I pray you

to permit the Lady Belle Isoult to search a great wound in my side that I

received in battle. For I hear that she is the most skilful leech in all

the world, and so I have come hither from a great distance, being in such

pain and dole from my grievous hurt that I shall die in a little while

unless it be healed."

"Messire," said King Angus, "I perceive that you are no ordinary knight,

but somebody of high nobility and estate, so it shall be as you desire."

And then King Angus said: "I pray you, tell me your name and whence you

come."

Upon this, Sir Tristram communed within his own mind, saying: "An I say my

name is Tristram, haply there may be someone here will know me and that I

was the cause why the brother of the Queen of this place hath died." So he

said: "Lord, my name is Sir Tramtris, and I am come from a country called

Lyonesse, which is a great distance from this."

Quoth King Angus, "Well, Sir Tramtris, I am glad that you have come to this

place. Now it shall be done to you as you desire, for to-morrow the Lady

Belle Isoult shall search your wound to heal it if possible."

[Sidenote: My Lady Belle Isoult searches the wound] And so it was as King

Angus said, for the next day the Lady Belle Isoult came with her attendants

to where Sir Tristram lay, and one of the attendants bare a silver basin

and another bare a silver ewer, and others bare napkins of fine linen. So

the Lady Belle Isoult came close to Sir Tristram and kneeled beside the

couch whereon he lay and said, "Let me see the wound." Therewith Sir

Tristram laid bare his bosom and his side and she beheld it. Then she felt

great pity for Sir Tristram because of that dolorous wound, and she said:

"Alas, that so young and so fair and so noble a knight should suffer so

sore a wound as this!" Therewith still kneeling beside Sir Tristram she

searched the wound with very gentle, tender touch (for her fingers were

like to rose leaves for softness) and lo! she found a part of the blade of

a spear-head embedded very deep in the wound of Sir Tristram.

This she drew forth very deftly (albeit Sir Tristram groaned with a great

passion of pain) and therewithafter came forth an issue of blood like a

crimson fountain, whereupon Sir Tristram swooned away like one who had gone

dead. But he did not die, for they quickly staunched the flow, set aromatic

spices to his nostrils, so that in a little he revived in spirit to find

himself at great ease and peace in his body (albeit it was for a while like

to the peace of death).

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is healed] Thus it was that the Lady Belle Isoult

saved the life of Sir Tristram, for in a little while he was able to be

about again, and presently waxed almost entirely hale and strong in limb

and body.

And now it is to be told how Sir Tristram loved the Lady Belle Isoult and

how she loved Sir Tristram. Also how a famous knight, hight Sir Palamydes

the Saracen, loved Belle Isoult and of how she loved not him.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram loves the Lady Belle Isoult] For, as was said, it

came about that in a little while Sir Tristram was healed of that grievous

wound aforetold of so that he was able to come and go whithersoever he

chose. But always he would be with the Lady Belle Isoult, for Sir Tristram

loved her with a wonderfully passionate regard. And so likewise the lady

loved Sir Tristram. For if he loved her because she had saved his life,

then she also loved him for the same reason. For she did not ever forget

how she had drawn out the head of that spear from the wound at his side,

and of how he had groaned when she brought it forth, and of how the blood

had gushed out of that wound. Wherefore she loved him very aboundingly for

the agony of pain she had one time caused him to suffer.

So they two fair and noble creatures were always together in bower or in

hall, and no one in all that while wist that Sir Tramtris was Sir Tristram,

and that it was his hand that had slain Sir Marhaus of Ireland.

So Sir Tristram was there in Ireland for a year, and in that time he grew

to be altogether well and sturdy again.

[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes cometh to Ireland] Now it was in those days that

there came Sir Palamydes the Saracen knight to that place, who was held to

be one of the very foremost knights in the world. So great rejoicing was

made over him because he had come thither, and great honor was shown to him

by everyone.

But when Sir Palamydes beheld the Lady Belle Isoult and when he saw how

fair she was, he came in a short while to love her with almost as

passionate a regard as that with which Sir Tristram loved her, so that he

also sought ever to be with her whenever the chance offered.

But Belle Isoult felt no regard for Sir Palamydes, but only fear of him,

for all of her love was given to Sir Tristram. Nevertheless, because Sir

Palamydes was so fierce and powerful a knight, she did not dare to offend

him; wherefore she smiled upon him and treated him with all courtesy and

kindness although she loved him not, dissembling her regard for him.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is displeased] All this Sir Tristram beheld from

aside and it displeased him a very great deal to see how Sir Palamydes was

always beside the lady. But Belle Isoult beheld how Sir Tristram was

displeased, wherefore she took occasion to say to him: "Tramtris, be not

displeased, for what am I to do? You know very well that I do not love this

knight, but I am afraid of him because he is so fierce and so strong."

To this Sir Tristram said: "Lady, it would be a great shame to me if I,

being by, should suffer any knight to come betwixt you and me and win your

regard through fear of him."

She said: "Tramtris, what would you do? Would you give challenge to this

knight? Lo, you are not yet entirely healed of your hurt, and Sir Palamydes

is in perfect strength of body. For indeed it is for you I am most of all

afraid lest you and Sir Palamydes should come to battle and lest he should

do you a harm before you are entirely healed."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram desires to do battle] "Lady," quoth Sir Tristram,

"I thank God that I am not at all afraid of this knight, or of any other

knight, and I have to thank you that I am now entirely recovered and am as

strong as ever I was. Wherefore I have now a mind to deal with this knight

in your behalf. So if you will provide me with armor I will deal with him

so that maybe he will not trouble you again. Now I will devise it in this

way:--tell your father, King Angus, to proclaim a great jousting. In that

jousting I will seek out Sir Palamydes and will encounter him, and I hope

with God's aid that I shall overcome him, so that you shall be free from

him."

Belle Isoult said, "Tramtris, are you able for this?" He said, "Yea, I am

as ready as ever I shall be in all of my life." Whereat Belle Isoult said,

"It shall be as you will have it."

Then Sir Tristram charged Belle Isoult that she should keep secret all this

that had been said betwixt them. And more especially she was to keep it

secret that he was to take part in such a tournament as that which they had

devised. And he said to her: "Lady, I lie here under a great peril to my

life, though I cannot tell you what that peril is. But I may tell you that

if my enemies should discover me at this place, it would go hard with me to

preserve my life from them. Wherefore, if I take part in any such affair as

this, it must be altogether a secret betwixt us."

So therewith they parted and Lady Belle Isoult went to her father and

besought him to proclaim a great day of jousting in honor of Sir Palamydes,

and the King said that he would do so. So the King sent forth proclamation

to all the courts of that nation that a great tournament was to be held and

that great rewards and great honors were to be given to the best knight

thereat. And that tournament was talked about in all the courts of chivalry

where there were knights who desired to win glory in such affairs at arms.

And now it shall be told concerning that tournament and how it befell with

Sir Tristram thereat, and with Sir Palamydes thereat.

[Illustration: The Queen of Ireland seeks to slay Sir Tristram]

Chapter Fourth

_How Sir Tristram encountered Sir Palamydes at the tournament and of what

befell. Also how Sir Tristram was forced to leave the Kingdom of Ireland._

So came the time for the tournament that King Angus of Ireland had

ordained; and that was a very famous affair at arms indeed. For it hath

very rarely happened that so noble a gathering of knights hath ever come

together as that company which there presented itself for that occasion at

the court of the King of Ireland.

[Sidenote: Of the court of chivalry at Ireland] For you may know how

excellent was the court of chivalry that fore gathered thereat when you

shall hear that there came to that tournament, the King of an Hundred

Knights and the King of the Scots, and that there came several knights of

the Round Table, to wit: Sir Gawaine, Sir Gaheris and Sir Agravaine; and

Sir Bagdemagus and Sir Kay and Sir Dodinas, and Sir Sagramore le Desirous,

and Sir Gumret the Less, and Sir Griflet; and that there came besides these

many other knights of great renown.

These and many others gathered at the court of King Angus of Ireland, so

that all those meadows and fields coadjacent to the place of battle were

gay as beds of flowers with the multitude of tents and pavilions of divers

colors that were there emplanted.

And on the day of the tournament there came great crowds of people into the

lists, so that all that place was alive with movement. For it was as though

a sea of people had arisen to overflow the seats and stalls thereof.

Now that tournament was to last for three days, and upon the third day

there was to be a grand melee in which all these knights contestant were to

take stand upon this side or upon that.

But upon the first two of those three days Sir Tristram sat in the stall of

the King and looked down upon the jousting, for, because of the illness

from which he had recovered, he was minded to save his body until the right

time should come, what time he should be called upon to do his uttermost.

[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes performeth wonders] And in those two days, Sir

Tristram beheld that Sir Palamydes did more wonderfully in battle than he

would have believed it possible for any knight to do. For Sir Palamydes was

aware that the eyes of the Lady Belle Isoult were gazing upon him,

wherefore he felt himself uplifted to battle as with the strength of ten.

Wherefore he raged about that field like a lion of battle, seeking whom he

might overthrow and destroy. And upon the first day he challenged Sir

Gawaine to joust with him, and then he challenged Sir Gaheris, and the King

of an Hundred Knights, and Sir Griflet, and Sir Sagramore le Desirous and

fourteen other knights, and all of these he met and many he overcame, and

that without any mishap to himself. And upon the second day he met with

great success Sir Agravaine and Sir Griflet and Sir Kay and Sir Dodinas and

twelve other knights. Wherefore those who beheld how he did gave great

shouts and outcries of applause and acclaim, saying: "Certes, there was

never knight in all of the world so great as this knight. Yea; even Sir

Launcelot himself could not do more than that knight doeth."

Then Belle Isoult was troubled in her mind, and she said: "Tramtris, yonder

in very truth is a most fierce and terrible knight. Now somewhiles I have

fear that you may not be able to overcome him."

Thereat Sir Tristram smiled very grimly, and said: "Lady, already I have

overcome in battle a bigger knight than ever Sir Palamydes has been or is

like to be." But the Lady Belle Isoult wist not that that knight of whom

Sir Tristram spake was Sir Marhaus of Ireland.

[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes bespeaks the Lady Belle Isoult] Now upon the

evening of the second day of that tournament, Sir Palamydes came to where

the Lady Belle Isoult was, and he said: "Lady, all these things I have done

for your sake. For had it not been for my love for you, I would not have

been able to do a third part of that which I did. Now I think you should

have pity and regard for one who loves you so strongly as that; wherefore I

beseech you to bestow some part of your good-will upon me."

"Sir," said the Lady Belle Isoult, "you are not to forget that there is

still another day of this battle, and in it you may not happen to have the

same fortune that favored you to-day; so I will wait until you have won

that battle also before I answer you."

"Well," said Sir Palamydes, "you shall see that I shall do even more

worthily to-morrow for your sake than I have done to-day."

But the Lady Belle Isoult was not very well pleased with that saying, for

she began again to fear that maybe the will of Sir Palamydes was so strong

that Sir Tristram would not have any success against him.

So came the third day of that very famous contest at arms, and when this

morning was come there began to gather together in the two parties those

who were to contest the one against the other. Of one of these parties, Sir

Palamydes was the chiefest knight, and upon that side was also Sir Gawaine

and several of the knights who were with him. For these said, "There shall

certes be greater credit to be had with Sir Palamydes than against him,"

and so they joined them with his party. Of the other party the chiefest

knights were the King of an Hundred Knights and the King of Scots, and both

of these were very famous and well-approved champions, of high courage and

remarkable achievements.

[Sidenote: Belle Isoult arms Sir Tristram] Now when the time was nigh

ready for that tournament, Sir Tristram went to put on the armor that the

Lady Belle Isoult had provided him, and when he was armed he mounted very

lightly upon the horse which she had given him. And the armor of Sir

Tristram was white, shining like to silver, and the horse was altogether

white, and the furniture and trappings thereof were all white, so that Sir

Tristram glistened with extraordinary splendor.

Now when he was armed and prepared in all ways, the Lady Belle Isoult came

to where he was and she said, "Tramtris, are you ready?" And he answered

"Yea." Therewith she took the horse of Sir Tristram by the bridle and she

led him to the postern gate of the castle, and put him out that way into a

fair field that lay beyond; and Sir Tristram abided in the fields for some

while until the tournament should have begun.

But the Lady Belle Isoult went to the tournament with her father, the King,

and her mother, the Queen, and took her station at that place assigned to

her whence she might overlook the field.

[Sidenote: How Sir Palamydes fought in the tournament] So in a little

while that friendly battle began. And again Sir Palamydes was filled with

the vehement fury of contest, wherefore he raged about the field, spreading

terror whithersoever he came. For first he made at the King of an Hundred

Knights, and he struck that knight so direful a blow that both horse and

man fell to the ground with the force thereof. Then in the same manner he

struck the King of Scots with his sword, and smote him straightway out of

the saddle also. Then he struck down one after another, seven other

knights, all of well-proved strength and prowess, so that all those who

looked thereon cried out, "Is he a man or is he a demon?" So, because of

the terror of Sir Palamydes, all those in that contest bore away from him

as they might do from a lion in anger.

At this time came Sir Tristram, riding at a free pace, shining like to a

figure of silver. Then many saw him and observed him and said to one

another: "Who is this knight, and what party will he join with to do

battle?" These had not long to wait to know what side he would join, for

immediately Sir Tristram took stand with that party which was the party of

the King of an Hundred Knights and the King of Scots, and at that the one

party was very glad, and the other party was sorry; for they deemed that

Sir Tristram was certes some great champion.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram enters the tournament] Then straightway there came

against Sir Tristram four knights of the other party, and one of these was

Sir Gaheris, and another was Sir Griflet and another was Sir Bagdemagus and

another was Sir Kay. But Sir Tristram was possessed with a great joy of

battle, so that in a very short time he had struck down or overthrown all

those knights, beginning with Sir Gaheris, and ending with Sir Kay the

seneschal.

This Sir Gawaine beheld, and said to Sir Sagramore: "Yonder is certes a

knight of terrible strength; now let us go and see of what mettle he be."

Therewith Sir Gawaine pushed against Sir Tristram from the one side, and

Sir Sagramore came against him on the other side, and so they met him both

at once. Then first Sir Gawaine struck Sir Tristram such a buffet that the

horse of Sir Tristram turned twice about with the force of that stroke; and

therewith Sir Sagramore smote him a buffet upon the other side so that Sir

Tristram wist not upon which side to defend himself.

Then, at those blows Sir Tristram waxed so exceedingly fierce that it was

as though a fire of rage flamed up into his brains and set them into a

blaze of rage. So with that he rose up in his stirrups and launched so

dreadful a blow upon Sir Gawaine that I believe nothing could have

withstood the force of that blow. For it clave through the shield of Sir

Gawaine and it descended upon the crown of his helmet and it clave away a

part of his helmet and a part of the epauliere of his shoulder; and with

the force of that dreadful, terrible blow, Sir Gawaine fell down upon the

ground and lay there as though he were dead.

Then Sir Tristram wheeled upon Sir Sagramore (who sat wonder-struck at that

blow he had beheld) and thereafter he smote him too, so that he fell down

and lay upon the ground in a swoon from which he did not recover for more

than two hours.

Now Sir Palamydes also had beheld those two strokes that Sir Tristram had

given, wherefore he said: "Hah! Yonder is a very wonderful knight. Now if I

do not presently meet him, and that to my credit, he will have more honor

in this battle than I."

So therewith Sir Palamydes pushed straight against Sir Tristram, and

[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes rides against Sir Tristram] when Sir Tristram

beheld that he was very glad, for he said: "Now it will either be Sir

Palamydes his day, or else it will be mine." So he upon his part pushed

against Sir Palamydes with good intent to engage him in battle, and then

they two met in the midst of the field.

Then immediately Sir Palamydes smote Sir Tristram such a buffet that Sir

Tristram thought a bolt of lightning had burst upon him, and for a little

while he was altogether bemazed and wist not where he was. But when he came

to himself he was so filled with fury that his heart was like to break

therewith.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram smites Sir Palamydes] Thereupon he rushed upon Sir

Palamydes and smote him again and again and again with such fury and

strength that Sir Palamydes was altogether stunned at the blows he received

and bare back before them. Then Sir Tristram perceived how that Sir

Palamydes bare his shield low because of the fierceness of that assault,

and thereupon he rose up in his stirrups and struck Sir Palamydes upon the

crown of the helmet so dreadful a buffet that the brains of Sir Palamydes

swam like water, and he must needs catch the pommel of his saddle to save

himself from falling. Then Sir Tristram smote him another buffet, and

therewith darkness came upon the sight of Sir Palamydes and he rolled off

from his horse into the dust beneath its feet.

Then all who beheld the encounter shouted very loud and with great

vehemence, for it was the very best and most notable assault at arms that

had been performed in all that battle. But most of those who beheld that

assault cried out "The Silver Knight!" For at that time no one but the Lady

Belle Isoult wist who that silver knight was. But she wist very well who he

was, and was so filled with the glory of his prowess that she wept for joy

thereof.

[Sidenote: Belle Isoult declares Sir Tristram] Then the King of Ireland

said: "Who is yonder knight who hath so wonderfully overthrown Sir

Palamydes? I had not thought there was any knight in the world so great as

he; but this must be some great champion whom none of us know." Upon that

the Lady Belle Isoult, still weeping for joy, could contain herself no

longer, but cried out: "Sir, that is Tramtris, who came to us so nigh to

death and who hath now done us so great honor being of our household! For I

knew very well that he was no common knight but some mighty champion when I

first beheld him."

At that the King of Ireland was very much astonished and overjoyed, and he

said: "If that is indeed so, then it is a very great honor for us all."

Now after that assault Sir Tristram took no more part in that battle but

withdrew to one side. But he perceived where the esquires attendant upon

Sir Palamydes came to him and lifted him up and took him away. Then by and

by he perceived that Sir Palamydes had mounted his horse again with intent

to leave that meadow of battle, and in a little he saw Sir Palamydes ride

away with his head bowed down like to one whose heart was broken.

All this Sir Tristram beheld and did not try to stay Sir Palamydes in his

departure. But some while after Sir Palamydes had quitted that place, Sir

Tristram also took his departure, going in that same direction that Sir

Palamydes had gone. Then after he had come well away from the meadow of

battle, Sir Tristram set spurs to his horse and rode at a hard gallop along

that way that Sir Palamydes had taken.

So he rode at such a gait for a considerable pass until, by and by, he

perceived Sir Palamydes upon the road before him; and Sir Palamydes was at

that time come to the edge of a woods where there were several stone

windmills with great sails swinging very slowly around before a strong wind

that was blowing.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overthrows Palamydes again] Now this was a lonely

place, and one very fit to do battle in, wherefore Sir Tristram cried out

to Sir Palamydes in a loud voice: "Sir Palamydes! Sir Palamydes! Turn you

about! For here is the chance for you to recover the honor that you have

lost to me." Thereupon Sir Palamydes, hearing that loud voice, turned him

about. But when he beheld that the knight who called was he who had just

now wrought such shame upon him, he ground his teeth together with rage,

and therewith drave his horse at Sir Tristram, drawing his sword so that it

flashed like lightning in the bright sunlight. And when he came nigh to Sir

Tristram, he stood up in his stirrups and lashed a blow at him with all his

might and main; for he said to himself: "Maybe I shall now recover mine

honor with one blow which I lost to this knight a while since." But Sir

Tristram put aside that blow of Sir Palamydes with his shield with very

great skill and dexterity, and thereupon, recovering himself, he lashed at

Sir Palamydes upon his part. And at that first stroke Sir Tristram smote

down the shield of Sir Palamydes, and gave him such a blow upon the head

that Sir Palamydes fell down off his horse upon the earth. Then Sir

Tristram voided his own horse very quickly, and running to Sir Palamydes

where he lay he plucked off his helmet with great violence. Therewith he

cried out very fiercely: "Sir Knight, yield thee to me, or I will slay

thee." And therewithal he lifted up his sword as though to strike off the

head of Sir Palamydes.

Then when Sir Palamydes saw Sir Tristram standing above him in that wise,

he dreaded his buffets so that he said: "Sir Knight, I yield me to thee to

do thy commands, if so be thou wilt spare my life."

Thereupon Sir Tristram said, "Arise," and at that Sir Palamydes got him up

to his knees with some ado, and so remained kneeling before Sir Tristram.

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "I believe you have saved your life by thus

yielding yourself to me. Now this shall be my commandment upon you. First

of all, my commandment is that you forsake the Lady Belle Isoult, and that

you do not come near her for the space of an entire year. And this is my

second commandment; that from this day you do not assume the arms of

knighthood for an entire year and a day."

"Alas!" said Sir Palamydes, "why do you not slay me instead of bringing me

to such shame as this! Would that I had died instead of yielding myself to

you as I did." And therewith he wept for shame and despite.

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "let that pass which was not done. For now you

have yielded yourself to me and these are my commands." So with that Sir

Tristram set his sword back again into its sheath, and he mounted his horse

and rode away, leaving Sir Palamydes where he was.

[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes disarms himself] But after Sir Tristram had gone,

Sir Palamydes arose, weeping aloud. And he said: "This is such shame to me

that I think there can be no greater shame." Thereupon he drew his

misericordia, and he cut the thongs of his harness and he tore the pieces

of armor from off his body and flung them away very furiously, upon the

right hand and upon the left. And when he had thus stripped himself of all

of his armor, he mounted his horse and rode away into the forest, weeping

like one altogether brokenhearted.

So Sir Tristram drave Sir Palamydes away from the Lady Belle Isoult as he

had promised to do.

Now when Tristram came back to the castle of the King of Ireland once more,

he thought to enter privily in by the postern-gate as he had gone out. But

lo! instead of that he found a great party waiting for him before the

castle and these gave him loud acclaim, crying, "Welcome, Sir Tramtris!

Welcome, Sir Tramtris!" And King Angus came forward and took the hand of

Sir Tristram, and he also said: "Welcome, Sir Tramtris, for you have

brought us great honor this day!"

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram chides Belle Isoult] But Sir Tristram looked at

the Lady the Belle Isoult with great reproach and by and by when they were

together he said: "Lady, why did you betray me who I was when you had

promised me not to do so?" "Sir," she said, "I meant not to betray you, but

in the joy of your victory I know not very well what I said." "Well," said

Sir Tristram, "God grant that no harm come of it." She said, "What harm can

come of it, Messire?" Sir Tristram said: "I may not tell you, Lady, but I

fear that harm will come of it."

Anon the Queen of Ireland came and said: "Tramtris, one so nigh to death as

you have been should not so soon have done battle as you have done. Now I

will have a bain prepared and you shall bathe therein, for you are not yet

hale and strong."

"Lady," said Tristram, "I do not need any bain, for I believe I am now

strong and well in all wise."

"Nay," said the Queen, "you must have that bain so that no ill may come to

you hereafter from this battle which you have fought."

So she had that bain prepared of tepid water, and it was very strong and

potent with spices and powerful herbs of divers sorts. And when that bain

was prepared, Sir Tristram undressed and entered the bath, and the Queen

and the Lady Belle Isoult were in the adjoining chamber which was his

bed-chamber.

[Sidenote: The Queen of Ireland beholds Sir Tristram's sword] Now whilst

Sir Tristram was in that bath, the Queen and Belle Isoult looked all about

his chamber. And they beheld the sword of Sir Tristram where it lay, for he

had laid it upon the bed when he had unlatched the belt to make himself

ready for that bath. Then the Queen said to the Lady Belle Isoult, "See

what a great huge sword this is," and thereupon she lifted it and drew the

blade out of its sheath, and she beheld what a fair, bright, glistering

sword it was. Then in a little she saw where, within about a foot and a

half from the point, there was a great piece in the shape of a half-moon

broken out of the edge of the sword; and she looked at that place for a

long while. Then of a sudden she felt a great terror, for she remembered

how even such a piece of sword as that which had been broken off from that

blade, she had found in the wound of Sir Marhaus of which he had died. So

she stood for a while holding that sword of Sir Tristram in her hand and

looking as she had been turned into stone. At this the Lady Belle Isoult

was filled with a sort of fear, wherefore she said, "Lady, what ails you?"

The Queen said, "Nothing that matters," and therewith she laid aside the

sword of Sir Tristram and went very quickly to her own chamber. There she

opened her cabinet and took thence the piece of sword-blade which she had

drawn from the wound of Sir Marhaus, and which she had kept ever since.

With this she hurried back to the chamber of Sir Tristram, and fitted that

piece of the blade to the blade; and lo! it fitted exactly, and without

flaw.

[Sidenote: The Queen assails Sir Tristram] Upon that the Queen was seized

as with a sudden madness; for she shrieked out in a very loud voice,

"Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!" saying that word three times. Therewith she

snatched up the sword of Sir Tristram and she ran with great fury into the

room where he lay in his bath. And she beheld him where he was there all

naked in his bath, and therewith she rushed at him and lashed at him with

his sword. But Sir Tristram threw himself to one side and so that blow

failed of its purpose. Then the Queen would have lashed at him again or

have thrust him through with the weapon; but at that Gouvernail and Sir

Helles ran to her and catched her and held her back, struggling and

screaming very violently. So they took the sword away from her out of her

hands, and all the while she shrieked like one gone entirely distracted.

Then as soon as Gouvernail and Sir Helles loosed her, she ran very

violently out of that room with great outcry of screaming, and so to King

Angus and flung herself upon her knees before him, crying out: "Justice!

Justice! I have found that man who slew my brother! I beseech of you that

you will deal justice upon him."

Then King Angus rose from where he sat, and he said: "Where is that man?

Bring me to him." And the Queen said: "It is Tramtris, who hath come hither

unknown unto this place."

King Angus said: "Lady, what is this you tell me? I cannot believe that

what you say is true." Upon this the Queen cried out: "Go yourself, Lord,

and inquire, and find out how true it is."

Then King Angus rose, and went forth from that place, and he went to the

chamber of Sir Tristram. And there he found that Sir Tristram had very

hastily dressed himself and had armed himself in such wise as he was able.

Then King Angus came to Tristram, and he said: "How is this, that I find

thee armed? Art thou an enemy to my house?" And Tristram wept, and said:

"Nay, Lord, I am not your enemy, but your friend, for I have great love for

you and for all that is yours, so that I would be very willing to do battle

for you even unto death if so be I were called upon to do so."

Then King Angus said: "If that is so, how is it that I find thee here armed

as if for battle, with thy sword in thy hand?" "Lord," said Sir Tristram,

"although I be friends with you and yours, yet I know not whether you be

friends or enemies unto me; wherefore I have prepared myself so that I may

see what is your will with me, for I will not have you slay me without

defence upon my part." Then King Angus said: "Thou speakest in a very

foolish way, for how could a single knight hope to defend himself against

my whole household? Now I bid thee tell me who thou art, and what is thy

name, and why thou earnest hither knowing that thou hadst slain my

brother?"

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram confesses to King Angus] Then Sir Tristram said,

"Lord, I will tell thee all the truth." And therewith he confessed

everything to King Angus, to wit: who was his father and his mother, and

how he was born and reared; how he fought Sir Marhaus, and for what reason;

and of how he came hither to be healed of his wound, from which else he

must die in very grievous pain. And he said: "All this is truth, Lord, and

it is truth that I had no ill-will against Sir Marhaus; for I only stood to

do battle with him for the sake of mine uncle, King Mark of Cornwall, and

to enhance mine own honor; and I took my fortune with him as he took his

with me. Moreover, I fought with Sir Marhaus upon the same day that I was

made knight, and that was the first battle which I fought, and in that

battle I was wounded so sorely that I was like to die as you very well

know. As for him, he was a knight well-tried and seasoned with many

battles, and he suffered by no treachery but only with the fortune of war."

So King Angus listened to all that Sir Tristram said, and when he had

ended, quoth he: "As God sees me, Tristram, I cannot deny that you did with

Sir Marhaus as a true knight should. For it was certes your part to take

the cause of your uncle upon you if you had the heart to do so, and it was

truly a real knightly thing for you who were so young to seek honor at the

hands of so famous a knight as Sir Marhaus. For I do not believe that until

you came his way there was any knight in the world who was greater than he,

unless it were Sir Launcelot of the Lake. Wherefore, from that, and from

what I saw you do at the tournament, some time ago, I believe that you are

one of the strongest knights in the world, and the peer of Sir Launcelot,

or of anybody else.

"But though all this is true, nevertheless it will not be possible for me

to maintain you in this country, for if I keep you here I shall greatly

displease not only the Queen and her kin, but many of those lords and

knights who were kin to Sir Marhaus or who were united to him in pledges of

friendship. So you must even save yourself as you can and leave here

straightway, for I may not help or aid you in any way."

Then Sir Tristram said: "Lord, I thank you for your great kindness unto me,

and I know not how I shall repay the great goodness that my Lady Belle

Isoult hath showed to me. For I swear to you upon the pommel of my sword

which I now hold up before me that I would lay down my life for her sake.

Yea, and my honor too! for she hath the entire love of my heart, so that I

would willingly die for her, or give up for her all that I have in the

world. Now as for my knighthood, I do believe that I shall in time become a

knight of no small worship, for I feel within my heart that this shall be

so. So if my life be spared, it may be that you will gain more having me

for your friend and your true servant than you will by taking my life in

this outland place. For whithersoever I go I give you my knightly word that

I shall be your daughter's servant, and that I shall ever be her true

knight in right or in wrong, and that I shall never fail her if I shall be

called upon to do her service."

Then King Angus meditated upon this for a while, and he said: "Tristram,

what thou sayest is very well said, but how shall I get you away from this

place in safety?"

Sir Tristram said: "Lord, there is but one way to get me away with credit

unto yourself. Now I beseech you of your grace that I may take leave of my

lady your daughter, and that I may then take leave of all your knights and

kinsmen as a right knight should. And if there be any among them who

chooses to stop me or to challenge my going, then I must face that one at

my peril, however great it may be."

"Well," said King Angus, "that is a very knightly way to behave, and so it

shall be as you will have it."

So Sir Tristram went down stairs to a certain chamber where Belle Isoult

was. And he went straight to her and took her by the hand; and he said:

"Lady, I am to go away from this place, if I may do so with credit to my

honor; but before I go I must tell you that I shall ever be your own true

knight in all ways that a knight may serve a lady. For no other lady shall

have my heart but you, so I shall ever be your true knight. Even though I

shall haply never see your face again, yet I shall ever carry your face

with me in my heart, and the thought of you shall always abide with me

withersoever I go."

At this the Lady Belle Isoult fell to weeping in great measure, and thereat

the countenance of Sir Tristram also was all writhed with passion, and he

said, "Lady, do not weep so!" She said, "Alas I cannot help it!" Then he

said: "Lady, you gave me my life when I thought I was to lose it, and you

brought me back from pain unto ease, and from sorrow unto joy. Would God I

were suffering all those pangs as aforetime, so that there might be no more

tears upon your face."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram parts from Belle Isoult] Then, King Angus being

by, he took her face into his hands and kissed her upon the forehead, and

the eyes, and the lips. Therewith he turned and went away, all bedazed with

his sorrow, and feeling for the latch of the door ere he was able to find

it and go out from that place.

After that Sir Tristram went straight unto the hall of the castle, and

there he found a great many of the lords of the castle and knights

attendant upon the King. For the news of these things had flown fast, and

many of them were angry and some were doubtful. But Tristram came in very

boldly, clad all in full armor, and when he stood in the midst of them he

spoke loud and with great courage, saying: "If there be any man here whom I

have offended in any way, let him speak, and I will give him entire

satisfaction whoever he may be. But let such speech be now or never, for

here is my body to make good my knighthood against the body of any man,

whomsoever he may be."