what it pleaseth them; but for to be a wedded man, I think it not; for
then I must couch with her, and leave arms and tournaments, battles,
and adventures; and as for to say for to take my pleasaunce with
paramours, that will I refuse in principal for dread of God; for
knights that be adventurous or lecherous shall not be happy nor
fortunate unto the wars, for other they shall be overcome with a
simpler knight than they be themselves, other else they shall by unhap
and their cursedness slay better men than they be themselves. And so
who that useth paramours shall be unhappy, and all thing is unhappy
that is about them.
And so Sir Launcelot and she departed. And then he rode in a deep
forest two days and more, and had strait lodging. So on the third day
he rode over a long bridge, and there stert upon him suddenly a passing
foul churl, and he smote his horse on the nose that he turned about,
and asked him why he rode over that bridge without his licence. Why
should I not ride this way? said Sir Launcelot, I may not ride beside.
Thou shalt not choose, said the churl, and lashed at him with a great
club shod with iron. Then Sir Launcelot drew his sword and put the
stroke aback, and clave his head unto the paps. At the end of the
bridge was a fair village, and all the people, men and women, cried on
Sir Launcelot, and said, A worse deed didst thou never for thyself, for
thou hast slain the chief porter of our castle. Sir Launcelot let them
say what they would, and straight he went into the castle; and when he
came into the castle he alighted, and tied his horse to a ring on the
wall and there he saw a fair green court, and thither he dressed him,
for there him thought was a fair place to fight in. So he looked about,
and saw much people in doors and windows that said, Fair knight, thou
art unhappy.
CHAPTER XI. How Sir Launcelot slew two giants, and made a castle free.
Anon withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed all save
the heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands. Sir Launcelot put
his shield afore him and put the stroke away of the one giant, and with
his sword he clave his head asunder. When his fellow saw that, he ran
away as he were wood, for fear of the horrible strokes, and Launcelot
after him with all his might, and smote him on the shoulder, and clave
him to the navel. Then Sir Launcelot went into the hall, and there came
afore him three score ladies and damosels, and all kneeled unto him,
and thanked God and him of their deliverance; For sir, said they, the
most party of us have been here this seven year their prisoners, and we
have worked all manner of silk works for our meat, and we are all great
gentlewomen born; and blessed be the time, knight, that ever thou be
born, for thou hast done the most worship that ever did knight in this
world, that will we bear record, and we all pray you to tell us your
name, that we may tell our friends who delivered us out of prison. Fair
damosel, he said, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Ah, sir, said they
all, well mayest thou be he, for else save yourself, as we deemed,
there might never knight have the better of these two giants; for many
fair knights have assayed it, and here have ended, and many times have
we wished after you, and these two giants dread never knight but you.
Now may ye say, said Sir Launcelot, unto your friends how and who hath
delivered you, and greet them all from me, and if that I come in any of
your marches, show me such cheer as ye have cause, and what treasure
that there in this castle is I give it you for a reward for your
grievance, and the lord that is owner of this castle I would he
received it as is right. Fair sir, said they, the name of this castle
is Tintagil, and a duke ought it sometime that had wedded fair Igraine,
and after wedded her Uther Pendragon, and gat on her Arthur. Well, said
Sir Launcelot, I understand to whom this castle longeth; and so he
departed from them, and betaught them unto God.
And then he mounted upon his horse, and rode into many strange and wild
countries, and through many waters and valleys, and evil was he lodged.
And at the last by fortune him happened, against a night, to come to a
fair courtelage, and therein he found an old gentlewoman that lodged
him with good will, and there he had good cheer for him and his horse.
And when time was, his host brought him into a fair garret, over the
gate, to his bed. There Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and set his harness
by him, and went to bed, and anon he fell asleep. So, soon after, there
came one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in great haste, and when
Sir Launcelot heard this, he arose up and looked out at the window, and
saw by the moonlight three knights came riding after that one man, and
all three lashed on him at once with swords, and that one knight turned
on them knightly again, and defended him. Truly, said Sir Launcelot,
yonder one knight shall I help, for it were shame for me to see three
knights on one, and if he be slain I am partner of his death; and
therewith he took his harness, and went out at a window by a sheet down
to the four knights, and then Sir Launcelot said on high, Turn you
knights unto me, and leave your fighting with that knight. And then
they all three left Sir Kay, and turned unto Sir Launcelot, and there
began great battle, for they alighted all three, and struck many great
strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed him on every side. Then Sir Kay
dressed him for to have holpen Sir Launcelot. Nay, sir, said he, I will
none of your help; therefore as ye will have my help, let me alone with
them. Sir Kay, for the pleasure of the knight, suffered him for to do
his will, and so stood aside. And then anon within six strokes, Sir
Launcelot had stricken them to the earth.
And then they all three cried: Sir knight, we yield us unto you as a
man of might makeless. As to that, said Sir Launcelot, I will not take
your yielding unto me. But so that ye will yield you unto Sir Kay the
Seneschal, on that covenant I will save your lives, and else not. Fair
knight, said they, that were we loath to do; for as for Sir Kay, we
chased him hither, and had overcome him had not ye been, therefore to
yield us unto him it were no reason. Well, as to that, said Launcelot,
advise you well, for ye may choose whether ye will die or live, for an
ye be yolden it shall be unto Sir Kay. Fair knight, then they said, in
saving of our lives we will do as thou commandest us. Then shall ye,
said Sir Launcelot, on Whitsunday next coming, go unto the court of
King Arthur, and there shall ye yield you unto Queen Guenever, and put
you all three in her grace and mercy, and say that Sir Kay sent you
thither to be her prisoners. Sir, they said, it shall be done by the
faith of our bodies, an we be living, and there they swore every knight
upon his sword. And so Sir Launcelot suffered them so to depart. And
then Sir Launcelot knocked at the gate with the pommel of his sword,
and with that came his host, and in they entered Sir Kay and he. Sir,
said his host, I weened ye had been in your bed. So I was, said Sir
Launcelot, but I rose and leapt out at my window for to help an old
fellow of mine. And so when they came nigh the light, Sir Kay knew well
that it was Sir Launcelot, and therewith he kneeled down and thanked
him of all his kindness that he had holpen him twice from the death.
Sir, he said, I have nothing done but that me ought for to do, and ye
are welcome, and here shall ye repose you and take your rest.
So when Sir Kay was unarmed, he asked after meat; so there was meat
fetched him, and he ate strongly. And when he had supped they went to
their beds and were lodged together in one bed. On the morn Sir
Launcelot arose early, and left Sir Kay sleeping, and Sir Launcelot
took Sir Kay’s armour and his shield, and armed him, and so he went to
the stable, and took his horse, and took his leave of his host, and so
he departed. Then soon after arose Sir Kay and missed Sir Launcelot.
And then he espied that he had his armour and his horse. Now by my
faith I know well that he will grieve some of the court of King Arthur;
for on him knights will be bold, and deem that it is I, and that will
beguile them. And because of his armour and shield I am sure I shall
ride in peace. And then soon after departed Sir Kay and thanked his
host.
CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot rode disguised in Sir Kay’s harness, and
how he smote down a knight.
Now turn we unto Sir Launcelot that had ridden long in a great forest,
and at the last he came into a low country, full of fair rivers and
meadows. And afore him he saw a long bridge, and three pavilions stood
thereon, of silk and sendal of divers hue. And without the pavilions
hung three white shields on truncheons of spears, and great long spears
stood upright by the pavilions, and at every pavilion’s door stood
three fresh squires, and so Sir Launcelot passed by them and spake no
word. When he was passed the three knights said them that it was the
proud Kay; He weeneth no knight so good as he, and the contrary is
ofttime proved. By my faith, said one of the knights, his name was Sir
Gaunter, I will ride after him and assay him for all his pride, and ye
may behold how that I speed. So this knight, Sir Gaunter, armed him,
and hung his shield upon his shoulder, and mounted upon a great horse,
and gat his spear in his hand, and walloped after Sir Launcelot. And
when he came nigh him, he cried, Abide, thou proud knight Sir Kay, for
thou shalt not pass quit. So Sir Launcelot turned him, and either
feutred their spears, and came together with all their mights, and Sir
Gaunter’s spear brake, but Sir Launcelot smote him down horse and man.
And when Sir Gaunter was at the earth his brethren said each one to
other, Yonder knight is not Sir Kay, for he is bigger than he. I dare
lay my head, said Sir Gilmere, yonder knight hath slain Sir Kay and
hath taken his horse and his harness. Whether it be so or no, said Sir
Raynold, the third brother, let us now go mount upon our horses and
rescue our brother Sir Gaunter, upon pain of death. We all shall have
work enough to match that knight, for ever meseemeth by his person it
is Sir Launcelot, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Pelleas, the good knight.
Then anon they took their horses and overtook Sir Launcelot, and Sir
Gilmere put forth his spear, and ran to Sir Launcelot, and Sir
Launcelot smote him down that he lay in a swoon. Sir knight, said Sir
Raynold, thou art a strong man, and as I suppose thou hast slain my two
brethren, for the which raseth my heart sore against thee, and if I
might with my worship I would not have ado with you, but needs I must
take part as they do, and therefore, knight, he said, keep thyself. And
so they hurtled together with all their mights, and all to-shivered
both their spears. And then they drew their swords and lashed together
eagerly. Anon therewith arose Sir Gaunter, and came unto his brother
Sir Gilmere, and bade him, Arise, and help we our brother Sir Raynold,
that yonder marvellously matched yonder good knight. Therewithal, they
leapt on their horses and hurtled unto Sir Launcelot.
And when he saw them come he smote a sore stroke unto Sir Raynold, that
he fell off his horse to the ground, and then he struck to the other
two brethren, and at two strokes he struck them down to the earth. With
that Sir Raynold began to start up with his head all bloody, and came
straight unto Sir Launcelot. Now let be, said Sir Launcelot, I was not
far from thee when thou wert made knight, Sir Raynold, and also I know
thou art a good knight, and loath I were to slay thee. Gramercy, said
Sir Raynold, as for your goodness; and I dare say as for me and my
brethren, we will not be loath to yield us unto you, with that we knew
your name, for well we know ye are not Sir Kay. As for that be it as it
be may, for ye shall yield you unto dame Guenever, and look that ye be
with her on Whitsunday, and yield you unto her as prisoners, and say
that Sir Kay sent you unto her. Then they swore it should be done, and
so passed forth Sir Launcelot, and each one of the brethren holp other
as well as they might.
CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Launcelot jousted against four knights of the
Round Table and overthrew them.
So Sir Launcelot rode into a deep forest, and thereby in a slade, he
saw four knights hoving under an oak, and they were of Arthur’s court,
one was Sir Sagramour le Desirous, and Ector de Maris, and Sir Gawaine,
and Sir Uwaine. Anon as these four knights had espied Sir Launcelot,
they weened by his arms it had been Sir Kay. Now by my faith, said Sir
Sagramour, I will prove Sir Kay’s might, and gat his spear in his hand,
and came toward Sir Launcelot. Therewith Sir Launcelot was ware and
knew him well, and feutred his spear against him, and smote Sir
Sagramour so sore that horse and man fell both to the earth. Lo, my
fellows, said he, yonder ye may see what a buffet he hath; that knight
is much bigger than ever was Sir Kay. Now shall ye see what I may do to
him. So Sir Ector gat his spear in his hand and walloped toward Sir
Launcelot, and Sir Launcelot smote him through the shield and shoulder,
that man and horse went to the earth, and ever his spear held.
By my faith, said Sir Uwaine, yonder is a strong knight, and I am sure
he hath slain Sir Kay; and I see by his great strength it will be hard
to match him. And therewithal, Sir Uwaine gat his spear in his hand and
rode toward Sir Launcelot, and Sir Launcelot knew him well, and so he
met him on the plain, and gave him such a buffet that he was astonied,
that long he wist not where he was. Now see I well, said Sir Gawaine, I
must encounter with that knight. Then he dressed his shield and gat a
good spear in his hand, and Sir Launcelot knew him well; and then they
let run their horses with all their mights, and either knight smote
other in midst of the shield. But Sir Gawaine’s spear to-brast, and Sir
Launcelot charged so sore upon him that his horse reversed up-so-down.
And much sorrow had Sir Gawaine to avoid his horse, and so Sir
Launcelot passed on a pace and smiled, and said, God give him joy that
this spear made, for there came never a better in my hand.
Then the four knights went each one to other and comforted each other.
What say ye by this guest? said Sir Gawaine, that one spear hath felled
us all four. We commend him unto the devil, they said all, for he is a
man of great might. Ye may well say it, said Sir Gawaine, that he is a
man of might, for I dare lay my head it is Sir Launcelot, I know it by
his riding. Let him go, said Sir Gawaine, for when we come to the court
then shall we wit; and then had they much sorrow to get their horses
again.
CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Launcelot followed a brachet into a castle, where
he found a dead knight, and how he after was required of a damosel to
heal her brother.
Now leave we there and speak of Sir Launcelot that rode a great while
in a deep forest, where he saw a black brachet, seeking in manner as it
had been in the feute of an hurt deer. And therewith he rode after the
brachet, and he saw lie on the ground a large feute of blood. And then
Sir Launcelot rode after. And ever the brachet looked behind her, and
so she went through a great marsh, and ever Sir Launcelot followed. And
then was he ware of an old manor, and thither ran the brachet, and so
over the bridge. So Sir Launcelot rode over that bridge that was old
and feeble; and when he came in midst of a great hall, there he saw lie
a dead knight that was a seemly man, and that brachet licked his
wounds. And therewithal came out a lady weeping and wringing her hands;
and then she said, O knight, too much sorrow hast thou brought me. Why
say ye so? said Sir Launcelot, I did never this knight no harm, for
hither by feute of blood this brachet brought me; and therefore, fair
lady, be not displeased with me, for I am full sore aggrieved of your
grievance. Truly, sir, she said, I trow it be not ye that hath slain my
husband, for he that did that deed is sore wounded, and he is never
likely to recover, that shall I ensure him. What was your husband’s
name? said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said she, his name was called Sir
Gilbert the Bastard, one of the best knights of the world, and he that
hath slain him I know not his name. Now God send you better comfort,
said Sir Launcelot; and so he departed and went into the forest again,
and there he met with a damosel, the which knew him well, and she said
aloud, Well be ye found, my lord; and now I require thee, on thy
knighthood, help my brother that is sore wounded, and never stinteth
bleeding; for this day he fought with Sir Gilbert the Bastard and slew
him in plain battle, and there was my brother sore wounded, and there
is a lady a sorceress that dwelleth in a castle here beside, and this
day she told me my brother’s wounds should never be whole till I could
find a knight that would go into the Chapel Perilous, and there he
should find a sword and a bloody cloth that the wounded knight was
lapped in, and a piece of that cloth and sword should heal my brother’s
wounds, so that his wounds were searched with the sword and the cloth.
This is a marvellous thing, said Sir Launcelot, but what is your
brother’s name? Sir, she said, his name was Sir Meliot de Logres. That
me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot, for he is a fellow of the Table
Round, and to his help I will do my power. Then, sir, said she, follow
even this highway, and it will bring you unto the Chapel Perilous; and
here I shall abide till God send you here again, and, but you speed, I
know no knight living that may achieve that adventure.
CHAPTER XV. How Sir Launcelot came into the Chapel Perilous and gat
there of a dead corpse a piece of the cloth and a sword.
Right so Sir Launcelot departed, and when he came unto the Chapel
Perilous he alighted down, and tied his horse unto a little gate. And
as soon as he was within the churchyard he saw on the front of the
chapel many fair rich shields turned up-so-down, and many of the
shields Sir Launcelot had seen knights bear beforehand. With that he
saw by him there stand a thirty great knights, more by a yard than any
man that ever he had seen, and all those grinned and gnashed at Sir
Launcelot. And when he saw their countenance he dreaded him sore, and
so put his shield afore him, and took his sword ready in his hand ready
unto battle, and they were all armed in black harness ready with their
shields and their swords drawn. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone
throughout them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him the
way, and therewith he waxed all bold, and entered into the chapel, and
then he saw no light but a dim lamp burning, and then was he ware of a
corpse hilled with a cloth of silk. Then Sir Launcelot stooped down,
and cut a piece away of that cloth, and then it fared under him as the
earth had quaked a little; therewithal he feared. And then he saw a
fair sword lie by the dead knight, and that he gat in his hand and hied
him out of the chapel.
Anon as ever he was in the chapel yard all the knights spake to him
with a grimly voice, and said, Knight, Sir Launcelot, lay that sword
from thee or else thou shalt die. Whether that I live or die, said Sir
Launcelot, with no great word get ye it again, therefore fight for it
an ye list. Then right so he passed throughout them, and beyond the
chapel yard there met him a fair damosel, and said, Sir Launcelot,
leave that sword behind thee, or thou wilt die for it. I leave it not,
said Sir Launcelot, for no treaties. No, said she, an thou didst leave
that sword, Queen Guenever should thou never see. Then were I a fool an
I would leave this sword, said Launcelot. Now, gentle knight, said the
damosel, I require thee to kiss me but once. Nay, said Sir Launcelot,
that God me forbid. Well, sir, said she, an thou hadst kissed me thy
life days had been done, but now, alas, she said, I have lost all my
labour, for I ordained this chapel for thy sake, and for Sir Gawaine.
And once I had Sir Gawaine within me, and at that time he fought with
that knight that lieth there dead in yonder chapel, Sir Gilbert the
Bastard; and at that time he smote the left hand off of Sir Gilbert the
Bastard. And, Sir Launcelot, now I tell thee, I have loved thee this
seven year, but there may no woman have thy love but Queen Guenever.
But sithen I may not rejoice thee to have thy body alive, I had kept no
more joy in this world but to have thy body dead. Then would I have
balmed it and served it, and so have kept it my life days, and daily I
should have clipped thee, and kissed thee, in despite of Queen
Guenever. Ye say well, said Sir Launcelot, Jesu preserve me from your
subtle crafts. And therewithal he took his horse and so departed from
her. And as the book saith, when Sir Launcelot was departed she took
such sorrow that she died within a fourteen night, and her name was
Hellawes the sorceress, Lady of the Castle Nigramous.
Anon Sir Launcelot met with the damosel, Sir Meliot’s sister. And when
she saw him she clapped her hands, and wept for joy. And then they rode
unto a castle thereby where lay Sir Meliot. And anon as Sir Launcelot
saw him he knew him, but he was passing pale, as the earth, for
bleeding. When Sir Meliot saw Sir Launcelot he kneeled upon his knees
and cried on high: O lord Sir Launcelot, help me! Anon Sir Launcelot
leapt unto him and touched his wounds with Sir Gilbert’s sword. And
then he wiped his wounds with a part of the bloody cloth that Sir
Gilbert was wrapped in, and anon an wholer man in his life was he
never. And then there was great joy between them, and they made Sir
Launcelot all the cheer that they might, and so on the morn Sir
Launcelot took his leave, and bade Sir Meliot hie him to the court of
my lord Arthur, for it draweth nigh to the Feast of Pentecost, and
there by the grace of God ye shall find me. And therewith they
departed.
CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Launcelot at the request of a lady recovered a
falcon, by which he was deceived.
And so Sir Launcelot rode through many strange countries, over marshes
and valleys, till by fortune he came to a fair castle, and as he passed
beyond the castle him thought he heard two bells ring. And then was he
ware of a falcon came flying over his head toward an high elm, and long
lunes about her feet, and as she flew unto the elm to take her perch
the lunes over-cast about a bough. And when she would have taken her
flight she hung by the legs fast; and Sir Launcelot saw how she hung,
and beheld the fair falcon perigot, and he was sorry for her.
The meanwhile came a lady out of the castle and cried on high: O
Launcelot, Launcelot, as thou art flower of all knights, help me to get
my hawk, for an my hawk be lost my lord will destroy me; for I kept the
hawk and she slipped from me, and if my lord my husband wit it he is so
hasty that he will slay me. What is your lord’s name? said Sir
Launcelot. Sir, she said, his name is Sir Phelot, a knight that longeth
unto the King of Northgalis. Well, fair lady, since that ye know my
name, and require me of knighthood to help you, I will do what I may to
get your hawk, and yet God knoweth I am an ill climber, and the tree is
passing high, and few boughs to help me withal. And therewith Sir
Launcelot alighted, and tied his horse to the same tree, and prayed the
lady to unarm him. And so when he was unarmed, he put off all his
clothes unto his shirt and breech, and with might and force he clomb up
to the falcon, and tied the lines to a great rotten boyshe, and threw
the hawk down and it withal.
Anon the lady gat the hawk in her hand; and therewithal came out Sir
Phelot out of the groves suddenly, that was her husband, all armed and
with his naked sword in his hand, and said: O knight Launcelot, now
have I found thee as I would, and stood at the bole of the tree to slay
him. Ah, lady, said Sir Launcelot, why have ye betrayed me? She hath
done, said Sir Phelot, but as I commanded her, and therefore there nis
none other boot but thine hour is come that thou must die. That were
shame unto thee, said Sir Launcelot, thou an armed knight to slay a
naked man by treason. Thou gettest none other grace, said Sir Phelot,
and therefore help thyself an thou canst. Truly, said Sir Launcelot,
that shall be thy shame, but since thou wilt do none other, take mine
harness with thee, and hang my sword upon a bough that I may get it,
and then do thy best to slay me an thou canst. Nay, nay, said Sir
Phelot, for I know thee better than thou weenest, therefore thou
gettest no weapon, an I may keep you therefrom. Alas, said Sir
Launcelot, that ever a knight should die weaponless. And therewith he
waited above him and under him, and over his head he saw a rownsepyk, a
big bough leafless, and therewith he brake it off by the body. And then
he came lower and awaited how his own horse stood, and suddenly he
leapt on the further side of the horse, fro-ward the knight. And then
Sir Phelot lashed at him eagerly, weening to have slain him. But Sir
Launcelot put away the stroke with the rownsepyk, and therewith he
smote him on the one side of the head, that he fell down in a swoon to
the ground. So then Sir Launcelot took his sword out of his hand, and
struck his neck from the body. Then cried the lady, Alas! why hast thou
slain my husband? I am not causer, said Sir Launcelot, for with
falsehood ye would have had slain me with treason, and now it is fallen
on you both. And then she swooned as though she would die. And
therewithal Sir Launcelot gat all his armour as well as he might, and
put it upon him for dread of more resort, for he dreaded that the
knight’s castle was so nigh. And so, as soon as he might, he took his
horse and departed, and thanked God that he had escaped that adventure.
CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot overtook a knight which chased his wife
to have slain her, and how he said to him.
So Sir Launcelot rode many wild ways, throughout marches and many wild
ways. And as he rode in a valley he saw a knight chasing a lady, with a
naked sword, to have slain her. And by fortune as this knight should
have slain this lady, she cried on Sir Launcelot and prayed him to
rescue her. When Sir Launcelot saw that mischief, he took his horse and
rode between them, saying, Knight, fie for shame, why wilt thou slay
this lady? thou dost shame unto thee and all knights. What hast thou to
do betwixt me and my wife? said the knight. I will slay her maugre thy
head. That shall ye not, said Sir Launcelot, for rather we two will
have ado together. Sir Launcelot, said the knight, thou dost not thy
part, for this lady hath betrayed me. It is not so, said the lady,
truly he saith wrong on me. And for because I love and cherish my
cousin germain, he is jealous betwixt him and me; and as I shall answer
to God there was never sin betwixt us. But, sir, said the lady, as thou
art called the worshipfullest knight of the world, I require thee of
true knighthood, keep me and save me. For whatsomever ye say he will
slay me, for he is without mercy. Have ye no doubt, said Launcelot, it
shall not lie in his power. Sir, said the knight, in your sight I will
be ruled as ye will have me. And so Sir Launcelot rode on the one side
and she on the other: he had not ridden but a while, but the knight
bade Sir Launcelot turn him and look behind him, and said, Sir, yonder
come men of arms after us riding. And so Sir Launcelot turned him and
thought no treason, and therewith was the knight and the lady on one
side, and suddenly he swapped off his lady’s head.
And when Sir Launcelot had espied him what he had done, he said, and
called him, Traitor, thou hast shamed me for ever. And suddenly Sir
Launcelot alighted off his horse, and pulled out his sword to slay him,
and therewithal he fell flat to the earth, and gripped Sir Launcelot by
the thighs, and cried mercy. Fie on thee, said Sir Launcelot, thou
shameful knight, thou mayest have no mercy, and therefore arise and
fight with me. Nay, said the knight, I will never arise till ye grant
me mercy. Now will I proffer thee fair, said Launcelot, I will unarm me
unto my shirt, and I will have nothing upon me but my shirt, and my
sword and my hand. And if thou canst slay me, quit be thou for ever.
Nay, sir, said Pedivere, that will I never. Well, said Sir Launcelot,
take this lady and the head, and bear it upon thee, and here shalt thou
swear upon my sword, to bear it always upon thy back, and never to rest
till thou come to Queen Guenever. Sir, said he, that will I do, by the
faith of my body. Now, said Launcelot, tell me what is your name? Sir,
my name is Pedivere. In a shameful hour wert thou born, said Launcelot.
So Pedivere departed with the dead lady and the head, and found the
queen with King Arthur at Winchester, and there he told all the truth.
Sir knight, said the queen, this is an horrible deed and a shameful,
and a great rebuke unto Sir Launcelot; but notwithstanding his worship
is not known in many divers countries; but this shall I give you in
penance, make ye as good shift as ye can, ye shall bear this lady with
you on horseback unto the Pope of Rome, and of him receive your penance
for your foul deeds; and ye shall never rest one night whereas ye do
another; an ye go to any bed the dead body shall lie with you. This
oath there he made, and so departed. And as it telleth in the French
book, when he came to Rome, the Pope bade him go again unto Queen
Guenever, and in Rome was his lady buried by the Pope’s commandment.
And after this Sir Pedivere fell to great goodness, and was an holy man
and an hermit.
CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Launcelot came to King Arthur’s Court, and how
there were recounted all his noble feats and acts.
Now turn we unto Sir Launcelot du Lake, that came home two days afore
the Feast of Pentecost; and the king and all the court were passing
fain of his coming. And when Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramore,
Sir Ector de Maris, saw Sir Launcelot in Kay’s armour, then they wist
well it was he that smote them down all with one spear. Then there was
laughing and smiling among them. And ever now and now came all the
knights home that Sir Turquine had prisoners, and they all honoured and
worshipped Sir Launcelot.
When Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said, I saw all the battle from
the beginning to the ending, and there he told King Arthur all how it
was, and how Sir Turquine was the strongest knight that ever he saw
except Sir Launcelot: there were many knights bare him record, nigh
three score. Then Sir Kay told the king how Sir Launcelot had rescued
him when he should have been slain, and how he made the knights yield
them to me, and not to him. And there they were all three, and bare
record. And by Jesu, said Sir Kay, because Sir Launcelot took my
harness and left me his I rode in good peace, and no man would have ado
with me.
Anon therewithal there came the three knights that fought with Sir
Launcelot at the long bridge. And there they yielded them unto Sir Kay,
and Sir Kay forsook them and said he fought never with them. But I
shall ease your heart, said Sir Kay, yonder is Sir Launcelot that
overcame you. When they wist that they were glad. And then Sir Meliot
de Logres came home, and told the king how Sir Launcelot had saved him
from the death. And all his deeds were known, how four queens,
sorceresses, had him in prison, and how he was delivered by King
Bagdemagus’ daughter. Also there were told all the great deeds of arms
that Sir Launcelot did betwixt the two kings, that is for to say the
King of Northgalis and King Bagdemagus. All the truth Sir Gahalantine
did tell, and Sir Mador de la Porte and Sir Mordred, for they were at
that same tournament. Then came in the lady that knew Sir Launcelot
when that he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion. And there, at request
of Sir Launcelot, Sir Belleus was made knight of the Round Table. And
so at that time Sir Launcelot had the greatest name of any knight of
the world, and most he was honoured of high and low.
Explicit the noble tale of Sir Launcelot du Lake, which is the vi.
book. Here followeth the tale of Sir Gareth of Orkney that was called
Beaumains by Sir Kay, and is the seventh book.
BOOK VII.
CHAPTER I. How Beaumains came to King Arthur’s Court and demanded three
petitions of King Arthur.
When Arthur held his Round Table most plenour, it fortuned that he
commanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be holden at a city
and a castle, the which in those days was called Kynke Kenadonne, upon
the sands that marched nigh Wales. So ever the king had a custom that
at the feast of Pentecost in especial, afore other feasts in the year,
he would not go that day to meat until he had heard or seen of a great
marvel. And for that custom all manner of strange adventures came
before Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts. And so Sir
Gawaine, a little to-fore noon of the day of Pentecost, espied at a
window three men upon horseback, and a dwarf on foot, and so the three
men alighted, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the three men
was higher than the other twain by a foot and an half. Then Sir Gawaine
went unto the king and said, Sir, go to your meat, for here at the hand
come strange adventures. So Arthur went unto his meat with many other
kings. And there were all the knights of the Round Table, [save] only
those that were prisoners or slain at a recounter. Then at the high
feast evermore they should be fulfilled the whole number of an hundred
and fifty, for then was the Round Table fully complished.
Right so came into the hall two men well beseen and richly, and upon
their shoulders there leaned the goodliest young man and the fairest
that ever they all saw, and he was large and long, and broad in the
shoulders, and well visaged, and the fairest and the largest handed
that ever man saw, but he fared as though he might not go nor bear
himself but if he leaned upon their shoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him
there was made peace and room, and right so they yede with him unto the
high dais, without saying of any words. Then this much young man pulled
him aback, and easily stretched up straight, saying, King Arthur, God
you bless and all your fair fellowship, and in especial the fellowship
of the Table Round. And for this cause I am come hither, to pray you
and require you to give me three gifts, and they shall not be
unreasonably asked, but that ye may worshipfully and honourably grant
them me, and to you no great hurt nor loss. And the first don and gift
I will ask now, and the other two gifts I will ask this day
twelvemonth, wheresomever ye hold your high feast. Now ask, said
Arthur, and ye shall have your asking.
Now, sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give me meat
and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask
mine other two gifts.
My fair son, said Arthur, ask better, I counsel thee, for this is but a
simple asking; for my heart giveth me to thee greatly, that thou art
come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit faileth me but thou
shalt prove a man of right great worship. Sir, he said, thereof be as
it be may, I have asked that I will ask. Well, said the king, ye shall
have meat and drink enough; I never defended that none, neither my
friend nor my foe. But what is thy name I would wit? I cannot tell you,
said he. That is marvel, said the king, that thou knowest not thy name,
and thou art the goodliest young man that ever I saw. Then the king
betook him to Sir Kay the steward, and charged him that he should give
him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and also that he had
all manner of finding as though he were a lord’s son. That shall little
need, said Sir Kay, to do such cost upon him; for I dare undertake he
is a villain born, and never will make man, for an he had come of
gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and armour, but such as he
is, so he asketh. And sithen he hath no name, I shall give him a name
that shall be Beaumains, that is Fair-hands, and into the kitchen I
shall bring him, and there he shall have fat brose every day, that he
shall be as fat by the twelvemonths’ end as a pork hog. Right so the
two men departed and beleft him to Sir Kay, that scorned him and mocked
him.
CHAPTER II. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine were wroth because Sir
Kay mocked Beaumains, and of a damosel which desired a knight to fight
for a lady.
Thereat was Sir Gawaine wroth, and in especial Sir Launcelot bade Sir
Kay leave his mocking, for I dare lay my head he shall prove a man of
great worship. Let be said Sir Kay, it may not be by no reason, for as
he is, so he hath asked. Beware, said Sir Launcelot, so ye gave the
good knight Brewnor, Sir Dinadan’s brother, a name, and ye called him
La Cote Male Taile, and that turned you to anger afterward. As for
that, said Sir Kay, this shall never prove none such. For Sir Brewnor
desired ever worship, and this desireth bread and drink and broth; upon
pain of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and, howsomever it
was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come for his
sustenance.
And so Sir Kay bade get him a place, and sit down to meat; so Beaumains
went to the hall door, and set him down among boys and lads, and there
he ate sadly. And then Sir Launcelot after meat bade him come to his
chamber, and there he should have meat and drink enough. And so did Sir
Gawaine: but he refused them all; he would do none other but as Sir Kay
commanded him, for no proffer. But as touching Sir Gawaine, he had
reason to proffer him lodging, meat, and drink, for that proffer came
of his blood, for he was nearer kin to him than he wist. But that as
Sir Launcelot did was of his great gentleness and courtesy.
So thus he was put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the boys of the
kitchen did. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and never
displeased man nor child, but always he was meek and mild. But ever
when that he saw any jousting of knights, that would he see an he
might. And ever Sir Launcelot would give him gold to spend, and
clothes, and so did Sir Gawaine, and where there were any masteries
done, thereat would he be, and there might none cast bar nor stone to
him by two yards. Then would Sir Kay say, How liketh you my boy of the
kitchen? So it passed on till the feast of Whitsuntide. And at that
time the king held it at Carlion in the most royallest wise that might
be, like as he did yearly. But the king would no meat eat upon the
Whitsunday, until he heard some adventures. Then came there a squire to
the king and said, Sir, ye may go to your meat, for here cometh a
damosel with some strange adventures. Then was the king glad and sat
him down.
Right so there came a damosel into the hall and saluted the king, and
prayed him of succour. For whom? said the king, what is the adventure?
Sir, she said, I have a lady of great worship and renown, and she is
besieged with a tyrant, so that she may not out of her castle; and
because here are called the noblest knights of the world, I come to you
to pray you of succour. What hight your lady, and where dwelleth she,
and who is she, and what is his name that hath besieged her? Sir king,
she said, as for my lady’s name that shall not ye know for me as at
this time, but I let you wit she is a lady of great worship and of
great lands; and as for the tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth
her lands, he is called the Red Knight of the Red Launds. I know him
not, said the king. Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I know him well, for he is
one of the perilloust knights of the world; men say that he hath seven
men’s strength, and from him I escaped once full hard with my life.
Fair damosel, said the king, there be knights here would do their power
for to rescue your lady, but because you will not tell her name, nor
where she dwelleth, therefore none of my knights that here be now shall
go with you by my will. Then must I speak further, said the damosel.
CHAPTER III. How Beaumains desired the battle, and how it was granted
to him, and how he desired to be made knight of Sir Launcelot.
With these words came before the king Beaumains, while the damosel was
there, and thus he said, Sir king, God thank you, I have been this
twelvemonth in your kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and now I
will ask my two gifts that be behind. Ask, upon my peril, said the
king. Sir, this shall be my two gifts, first that ye will grant me to
have this adventure of the damosel, for it belongeth unto me. Thou
shalt have it, said the king, I grant it thee. Then, sir, this is the
other gift, that ye shall bid Launcelot du Lake to make me knight, for
of him I will be made knight and else of none. And when I am passed I
pray you let him ride after me, and make me knight when I require him.
All this shall be done, said the king. Fie on thee, said the damosel,
shall I have none but one that is your kitchen page? Then was she wroth
and took her horse and departed. And with that there came one to
Beaumains and told him his horse and armour was come for him; and there
was the dwarf come with all thing that him needed, in the richest
manner; thereat all the court had much marvel from whence came all that
gear. So when he was armed there was none but few so goodly a man as he
was; and right so as he came into the hall and took his leave of King
Arthur, and Sir Gawaine, and Sir Launcelot, and prayed that he would
hie after him, and so departed and rode after the damosel.
CHAPTER IV. How Beaumains departed, and how he gat of Sir Kay a spear
and a shield, and how he jousted with Sir Launcelot.
But there went many after to behold how well he was horsed and trapped
in cloth of gold, but he had neither shield nor spear. Then Sir Kay
said all open in the hall, I will ride after my boy in the kitchen, to
wit whether he will know me for his better. Said Sir Launcelot and Sir
Gawaine, Yet abide at home. So Sir Kay made him ready and took his
horse and his spear, and rode after him. And right as Beaumains
overtook the damosel, right so came Sir Kay and said, Beaumains, what,
sir, know ye not me? Then he turned his horse, and knew it was Sir Kay,
that had done him all the despite as ye have heard afore. Yea, said
Beaumains, I know you for an ungentle knight of the court, and
therefore beware of me. Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest,
and ran straight upon him; and Beaumains came as fast upon him with his
sword in his hand, and so he put away his spear with his sword, and
with a foin thrust him through the side, that Sir Kay fell down as he
had been dead; and he alighted down and took Sir Kay’s shield and his
spear, and stert upon his own horse and rode his way.
All that saw Sir Launcelot, and so did the damosel. And then he bade
his dwarf stert upon Sir Kay’s horse, and so he did. By that Sir
Launcelot was come, then he proffered Sir Launcelot to joust; and
either made them ready, and they came together so fiercely that either
bare down other to the earth, and sore were they bruised. Then Sir
Launcelot arose and helped him from his horse. And then Beaumains threw
his shield from him, and proffered to fight with Sir Launcelot on foot;
and so they rushed together like boars, tracing, rasing, and foining to
the mountenance of an hour; and Sir Launcelot felt him so big that he
marvelled of his strength, for he fought more liker a giant than a
knight, and that his fighting was durable and passing perilous. For Sir
Launcelot had so much ado with him that he dreaded himself to be
shamed, and said, Beaumains, fight not so sore, your quarrel and mine
is not so great but we may leave off. Truly that is truth, said
Beaumains, but it doth me good to feel your might, and yet, my lord, I
showed not the utterance.
CHAPTER V. How Beaumains told to Sir Launcelot his name, and how he was
dubbed knight of Sir Launcelot, and after overtook the damosel.
In God’s name, said Sir Launcelot, for I promise you, by the faith of
my body, I had as much to do as I might to save myself from you
unshamed, and therefore have ye no doubt of none earthly knight. Hope
ye so that I may any while stand a proved knight? said Beaumains. Yea,
said Launcelot, do as ye have done, and I shall be your warrant. Then,
I pray you, said Beaumains, give me the order of knighthood. Then must
ye tell me your name, said Launcelot, and of what kin ye be born. Sir,
so that ye will not discover me I shall, said Beaumains. Nay, said Sir
Launcelot, and that I promise you by the faith of my body, until it be
openly known. Then, sir, he said, my name is Gareth, and brother unto
Sir Gawaine of father and mother. Ah, sir, said Sir Launcelot, I am
more gladder of you than I was; for ever me thought ye should be of
great blood, and that ye came not to the court neither for meat nor for
drink. And then Sir Launcelot gave him the order of knighthood, and
then Sir Gareth prayed him for to depart and let him go.
So Sir Launcelot departed from him and came to Sir Kay, and made him to
be borne home upon his shield, and so he was healed hard with the life;
and all men scorned Sir Kay, and in especial Sir Gawaine and Sir
Launcelot said it was not his part to rebuke no young man, for full
little knew he of what birth he is come, and for what cause he came to
this court; and so we leave Sir Kay and turn we unto Beaumains.
When he had overtaken the damosel, anon she said, What dost thou here?
thou stinkest all of the kitchen, thy clothes be bawdy of the grease
and tallow that thou gainest in King Arthur’s kitchen; weenest thou,
said she, that I allow thee, for yonder knight that thou killest. Nay
truly, for thou slewest him unhappily and cowardly; therefore turn
again, bawdy kitchen page, I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee
Beaumains. What art thou but a lusk and a turner of broaches and a
ladle-washer? Damosel, said Beaumains, say to me what ye will, I will
not go from you whatsomever ye say, for I have undertaken to King
Arthur for to achieve your adventure, and so shall I finish it to the
end, either I shall die therefore. Fie on thee, kitchen knave, wilt
thou finish mine adventure? thou shalt anon be met withal, that thou
wouldest not for all the broth that ever thou suppest once look him in
the face. I shall assay, said Beaumains.
So thus as they rode in the wood, there came a man flying all that ever
he might. Whither wilt thou? said Beaumains. O lord, he said, help me,
for here by in a slade are six thieves that have taken my lord and
bound him, so I am afeard lest they will slay him. Bring me thither,
said Beaumains. And so they rode together until they came thereas was
the knight bounden; and then he rode unto them, and struck one unto the
death, and then another, and at the third stroke he slew the third
thief, and then the other three fled. And he rode after them, and he
overtook them; and then those three thieves turned again and assailed
Beaumains hard, but at the last he slew them, and returned and unbound
the knight. And the knight thanked him, and prayed him to ride with him
to his castle there a little beside, and he should worshipfully reward
him for his good deeds. Sir, said Beaumains, I will no reward have: I
was this day made knight of noble Sir Launcelot, and therefore I will
no reward have, but God reward me. And also I must follow this damosel.
And when he came nigh her she bade him ride from her, For thou smellest
all of the kitchen: weenest thou that I have joy of thee, for all this
deed that thou hast done is but mishapped thee: but thou shalt see a
sight shall make thee turn again, and that lightly. Then the same
knight which was rescued of the thieves rode after that damosel, and
prayed her to lodge with him all that night. And because it was near
night the damosel rode with him to his castle, and there they had great
cheer, and at supper the knight sat Sir Beaumains afore the damosel.
Fie, fie, said she, Sir knight, ye are uncourteous to set a kitchen
page afore me; him beseemeth better to stick a swine than to sit afore
a damosel of high parage. Then the knight was ashamed at her words, and
took him up, and set him at a sideboard, and set himself afore him, and
so all that night they had good cheer and merry rest.
CHAPTER VI. How Beaumains fought and slew two knights at a passage.
And on the morn the damosel and he took their leave and thanked the
knight, and so departed, and rode on their way until they came to a
great forest. And there was a great river and but one passage, and
there were ready two knights on the farther side to let them the
passage. What sayest thou, said the damosel, wilt thou match yonder
knights or turn again? Nay, said Sir Beaumains, I will not turn again
an they were six more. And therewithal he rushed into the water, and in
midst of the water either brake their spears upon other to their hands,
and then they drew their swords, and smote eagerly at other. And at the
last Sir Beaumains smote the other upon the helm that his head stonied,
and therewithal he fell down in the water, and there was he drowned.
And then he spurred his horse upon the land, where the other knight
fell upon him, and brake his spear, and so they drew their swords and
fought long together. At the last Sir Beaumains clave his helm and his
head down to the shoulders; and so he rode unto the damosel and bade
her ride forth on her way.
Alas, she said, that ever a kitchen page should have that fortune to
destroy such two doughty knights: thou weenest thou hast done
doughtily, that is not so; for the first knight his horse stumbled, and
there he was drowned in the water, and never it was by thy force, nor
by thy might. And the last knight by mishap thou camest behind him and
mishappily thou slew him.
Damosel, said Beaumains, ye may say what ye will, but with whomsomever
I have ado withal, I trust to God to serve him or he depart. And
therefore I reck not what ye say, so that I may win your lady. Fie,
fie, foul kitchen knave, thou shalt see knights that shall abate thy
boast. Fair damosel, give me goodly language, and then my care is past,
for what knights somever they be, I care not, nor I doubt them not.
Also, said she, I say it for thine avail, yet mayest thou turn again
with thy worship; for an thou follow me, thou art but slain, for I see
all that ever thou dost is but by misadventure, and not by prowess of
thy hands. Well, damosel, ye may say what ye will, but wheresomever ye
go I will follow you. So this Beaumains rode with that lady till
evensong time, and ever she chid him, and would not rest. And they came
to a black laund; and there was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung a
black banner, and on the other side there hung a black shield, and by
it stood a black spear great and long, and a great black horse covered
with silk, and a black stone fast by.
CHAPTER VII. How Beaumains fought with the Knight of the Black Launds,
and fought with him till he fell down and died.
There sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was the
Knight of the Black Laund. Then the damosel, when she saw that knight,
she bade him flee down that valley, for his horse was not saddled.
Gramercy, said Beaumains, for always ye would have me a coward. With
that the Black Knight, when she came nigh him, spake and said, Damosel,
have ye brought this knight of King Arthur to be your champion? Nay,
fair knight, said she, this is but a kitchen knave that was fed in King
Arthur’s kitchen for alms. Why cometh he, said the knight, in such
array? it is shame that he beareth you company. Sir, I cannot be
delivered of him, said she, for with me he rideth maugre mine head: God
would that ye should put him from me, other to slay him an ye may, for
he is an unhappy knave, and unhappily he hath done this day: through
mishap I saw him slay two knights at the passage of the water; and
other deeds he did before right marvellous and through unhappiness.
That marvelleth me, said the Black Knight, that any man that is of
worship will have ado with him. They know him not, said the damosel,
and for because he rideth with me, they ween that he be some man of
worship born. That may be, said the Black Knight; howbeit as ye say
that he be no man of worship, he is a full likely person, and full like
to be a strong man: but thus much shall I grant you, said the Black
Knight; I shall put him down upon one foot, and his horse and his
harness he shall leave with me, for it were shame to me to do him any
more harm.
When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, Sir knight, thou art
full large of my horse and my harness; I let thee wit it cost thee
nought, and whether it liketh thee or not, this laund will I pass
maugre thine head. And horse nor harness gettest thou none of mine, but
if thou win them with thy hands; and therefore let see what thou canst
do. Sayest thou that? said the Black Knight, now yield thy lady from
thee, for it beseemeth never a kitchen page to ride with such a lady.
Thou liest, said Beaumains, I am a gentleman born, and of more high
lineage than thou, and that will I prove on thy body.
Then in great wrath they departed with their horses, and came together
as it had been the thunder, and the Black Knight’s spear brake, and
Beaumains thrust him through both his sides, and therewith his spear
brake, and the truncheon left still in his side. But nevertheless the
Black Knight drew his sword, and smote many eager strokes, and of great
might, and hurt Beaumains full sore. But at the last the Black Knight,
within an hour and an half, he fell down off his horse in swoon, and
there he died. And when Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed,
then he alighted down and armed him in his armour, and so took his
horse and rode after the damosel.
When she saw him come nigh, she said, Away, kitchen knave, out of the
wind, for the smell of thy bawdy clothes grieveth me. Alas, she said,
that ever such a knave should by mishap slay so good a knight as thou
hast done, but all this is thine unhappiness. But here by is one shall
pay thee all thy payment, and therefore yet I counsel thee, flee. It
may happen me, said Beaumains, to be beaten or slain, but I warn you,
fair damosel, I will not flee away, a nor leave your company, for all
that ye can say; for ever ye say that they will kill me or beat me, but
howsomever it happeneth I escape, and they lie on the ground. And
therefore it were as good for you to hold you still thus all day
rebuking me, for away will I not till I see the uttermost of this
journey, or else I will be slain, other truly beaten; therefore ride on
your way, for follow you I will whatsomever happen.
CHAPTER VIII. How the brother of the knight that was slain met with
Beaumains, and fought with Beaumains till he was yielden.
Thus as they rode together, they saw a knight come driving by them all
in green, both his horse and his harness; and when he came nigh the
damosel, he asked her, Is that my brother the Black Knight that ye have
brought with you? Nay, nay, she said, this unhappy kitchen knave hath
slain your brother through unhappiness. Alas, said the Green Knight,
that is great pity, that so noble a knight as he was should so
unhappily be slain, and namely of a knave’s hand, as ye say that he is.
Ah! traitor, said the Green Knight, thou shalt die for slaying of my
brother; he was a full noble knight, and his name was Sir Perard. I
defy thee, said Beaumains, for I let thee wit I slew him knightly and
not shamefully.
Therewithal the Green Knight rode unto an horn that was green, and it
hung upon a thorn, and there he blew three deadly motes, and there came
two damosels and armed him lightly. And then he took a great horse, and
a green shield and a green spear. And then they ran together with all
their mights, and brake their spears unto their hands. And then they
drew their swords, and gave many sad strokes, and either of them
wounded other full ill. And at the last, at an overthwart, Beaumains
with his horse struck the Green Knight’s horse upon the side, that he
fell to the earth. And then the Green Knight avoided his horse lightly,
and dressed him upon foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewithal he
alighted, and they rushed together like two mighty kemps a long while,
and sore they bled both. With that came the damosel, and said, My lord
the Green Knight, why for shame stand ye so long fighting with the
kitchen knave? Alas, it is shame that ever ye were made knight, to see
such a lad to match such a knight, as the weed overgrew the corn.
Therewith the Green Knight was ashamed, and therewithal he gave a great
stroke of might, and clave his shield through. When Beaumains saw his
shield cloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke and of her
language; and then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell
on his knees. And so suddenly Beaumains pulled him upon the ground
grovelling. And then the Green Knight cried him mercy, and yielded him
unto Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to slay him not. All is in vain,
said Beaumains, for thou shalt die but if this damosel that came with
me pray me to save thy life. And therewithal he unlaced his helm like
as he would slay him. Fie upon thee, false kitchen page, I will never
pray thee to save his life, for I will never be so much in thy danger.
Then shall he die, said Beaumains. Not so hardy, thou bawdy knave, said
the damosel, that thou slay him. Alas, said the Green Knight, suffer me
not to die for a fair word may save me. Fair knight, said the Green
Knight, save my life, and I will forgive thee the death of my brother,
and for ever to become thy man, and thirty knights that hold of me for
ever shall do you service. In the devil’s name, said the damosel, that
such a bawdy kitchen knave should have thee and thirty knights’
service.
Sir knight, said Beaumains, all this availeth thee not, but if my
damosel speak with me for thy life. And therewithal he made a semblant
to slay him. Let be, said the damosel, thou bawdy knave; slay him not,
for an thou do thou shalt repent it. Damosel, said Beaumains, your
charge is to me a pleasure, and at your commandment his life shall be
saved, and else not. Then he said, Sir knight with the green arms, I
release thee quit at this damosel’s request, for I will not make her
wroth, I will fulfil all that she chargeth me. And then the Green
Knight kneeled down, and did him homage with his sword. Then said the
damosel, Me repenteth, Green Knight, of your damage, and of your
brother’s death, the Black Knight, for of your help I had great mister,
for I dread me sore to pass this forest. Nay, dread you not, said the
Green Knight, for ye shall lodge with me this night, and to-morn I
shall help you through this forest. So they took their horses and rode
to his manor, which was fast there beside.
CHAPTER IX. How the damosel again rebuked Beaumains, and would not
suffer him to sit at her table, but called him kitchen boy.
And ever she rebuked Beaumains, and would not suffer him to sit at her
table, but as the Green Knight took him and sat him at a side table.
Marvel methinketh, said the Green Knight to the damosel, why ye rebuke
this noble knight as ye do, for I warn you, damosel, he is a full noble
knight, and I know no knight is able to match him; therefore ye do
great wrong to rebuke him, for he shall do you right good service, for
whatsomever he maketh himself, ye shall prove at the end that he is
come of a noble blood and of king’s lineage. Fie, fie, said the
damosel, it is shame for you to say of him such worship. Truly, said
the Green Knight, it were shame for me to say of him any disworship,
for he hath proved himself a better knight than I am, yet have I met
with many knights in my days, and never or this time have I found no
knight his match. And so that night they yede unto rest, and all that
night the Green Knight commanded thirty knights privily to watch
Beaumains, for to keep him from all treason.
And so on the morn they all arose, and heard their mass and brake their
fast; and then they took their horses and rode on their way, and the
Green Knight conveyed them through the forest; and there the Green
Knight said, My lord Beaumains, I and these thirty knights shall be
always at your summons, both early and late, at your calling and
whither that ever ye will send us. It is well said, said Beaumains;
when that I call upon you ye must yield you unto King Arthur, and all
your knights. If that ye so command us, we shall be ready at all times,
said the Green Knight. Fie, fie upon thee, in the devil’s name, said
the damosel, that any good knights should be obedient unto a kitchen
knave. So then departed the Green Knight and the damosel. And then she
said unto Beaumains, Why followest thou me, thou kitchen boy? Cast away
thy shield and thy spear, and flee away; yet I counsel thee betimes or
thou shalt say right soon, alas; for wert thou as wight as ever was
Wade or Launcelot, Tristram, or the good knight Sir Lamorak, thou shalt
not pass a pass here that is called the Pass Perilous. Damosel, said
Beaumains, who is afeard let him flee, for it were shame to turn again
sithen I have ridden so long with you. Well, said the damosel, ye shall
soon, whether ye will or not.
CHAPTER X. How the third brother, called the Red Knight, jousted and
fought against Beaumains, and how Beaumains overcame him.
So within a while they saw a tower as white as any snow, well
matchecold all about, and double dyked. And over the tower gate there
hung a fifty shields of divers colours, and under that tower there was
a fair meadow. And therein were many knights and squires to behold,
scaffolds and pavilions; for there upon the morn should be a great
tournament: and the lord of the tower was in his castle and looked out
at a window, and saw a damosel, a dwarf, and a knight armed at all
points. So God me help, said the lord, with that knight will I joust,
for I see that he is a knight-errant. And so he armed him and horsed
him hastily. And when he was on horseback with his shield and his
spear, it was all red, both his horse and his harness, and all that to
him longeth. And when that he came nigh him he weened it had been his
brother the Black Knight; and then he cried aloud, Brother, what do ye
in these marches? Nay, nay, said the damosel, it is not he; this is but
a kitchen knave that was brought up for alms in King Arthur’s court.
Nevertheless, said the Red Knight, I will speak with him or he depart.
Ah, said the damosel, this knave hath killed thy brother, and Sir Kay
named him Beaumains, and this horse and this harness was thy brother’s,
the Black Knight. Also I saw thy brother the Green Knight overcome of
his hands. Now may ye be revenged upon him, for I may never be quit of
him.
With this either knights departed in sunder, and they came together
with all their might, and either of their horses fell to the earth, and
they avoided their horses, and put their shields afore them and drew
their swords, and either gave other sad strokes, now here, now there,
rasing, tracing, foining, and hurling like two boars, the space of two
hours. And then she cried on high to the Red Knight, Alas, thou noble
Red Knight, think what worship hath followed thee, let never a kitchen
knave endure thee so long as he doth. Then the Red Knight waxed wroth
and doubled his strokes, and hurt Beaumains wonderly sore, that the
blood ran down to the ground, that it was wonder to see that strong
battle. Yet at the last Sir Beaumains struck him to the earth, and as
he would have slain the Red Knight, he cried mercy, saying, Noble
knight, slay me not, and I shall yield me to thee with fifty knights
with me that be at my commandment. And I forgive thee all the despite
that thou hast done to me, and the death of my brother the Black
Knight. All this availeth not, said Beaumains, but if my damosel pray
me to save thy life. And therewith he made semblant to strike off his
head. Let be, thou Beaumains, slay him not, for he is a noble knight,
and not so hardy, upon thine head, but thou save him.
Then Beaumains bade the Red Knight, Stand up, and thank the damosel now
of thy life. Then the Red Knight prayed him to see his castle, and to
be there all night. So the damosel then granted him, and there they had
merry cheer. But always the damosel spake many foul words unto
Beaumains, whereof the Red Knight had great marvel; and all that night
the Red Knight made three score knights to watch Beaumains, that he
should have no shame nor villainy. And upon the morn they heard mass
and dined, and the Red Knight came before Beaumains with his three
score knights, and there he proffered him his homage and fealty at all
times, he and his knights to do him service. I thank you, said
Beaumains, but this ye shall grant me: when I call upon you, to come
afore my lord King Arthur, and yield you unto him to be his knights.
Sir, said the Red Knight, I will be ready, and my fellowship, at your
summons. So Sir Beaumains departed and the damosel, and ever she rode
chiding him in the foulest manner.
CHAPTER XI. How Sir Beaumains suffered great rebukes of the damosel,
and he suffered it patiently.
Damosel, said Beaumains, ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me as ye do,
for meseemeth I have done you good service, and ever ye threaten me I
shall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever for all your boast
they lie in the dust or in the mire, and therefore I pray you rebuke me
no more; and when ye see me beaten or yielden as recreant, then may ye
bid me go from you shamefully; but first I let you wit I will not
depart from you, for I were worse than a fool an I would depart from
you all the while that I win worship. Well, said she, right soon there
shall meet a knight shall pay thee all thy wages, for he is the most
man of worship of the world, except King Arthur. I will well, said
Beaumains, the more he is of worship, the more shall be my worship to
have ado with him.
Then anon they were ware where was afore them a city rich and fair. And
betwixt them and the city a mile and an half there was a fair meadow
that seemed new mown, and therein were many pavilions fair to behold.
Lo, said the damosel, yonder is a lord that owneth yonder city, and his
custom is, when the weather is fair, to lie in this meadow to joust and
tourney. And ever there be about him five hundred knights and gentlemen
of arms, and there be all manner of games that any gentleman can
devise. That goodly lord, said Beaumains, would I fain see. Thou shalt
see him time enough, said the damosel, and so as she rode near she
espied the pavilion where he was. Lo, said she, seest thou yonder
pavilion that is all of the colour of Inde, and all manner of thing
that there is about, men and women, and horses trapped, shields and
spears were all of the colour of Inde, and his name is Sir Persant of
Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever thou lookedst on. It may well
be, said Beaumains, but be he never so stout a knight, in this field I
shall abide till that I see him under his shield. Ah, fool, said she,
thou wert better flee betimes. Why, said Beaumains, an he be such a
knight as ye make him, he will not set upon me with all his men, or
with his five hundred knights. For an there come no more but one at
once, I shall him not fail whilst my life lasteth. Fie, fie, said the
damosel, that ever such a stinking knave should blow such a boast.
Damosel, he said, ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I had liefer do
five battles than so to be rebuked, let him come and then let him do
his worst.
Sir, she said, I marvel what thou art and of what kin thou art come;
boldly thou speakest, and boldly thou hast done, that have I seen;
therefore I pray thee save thyself an thou mayest, for thy horse and
thou have had great travail, and I dread we dwell over long from the
siege, for it is but hence seven mile, and all perilous passages we are
passed save all only this passage; and here I dread me sore lest ye
shall catch some hurt, therefore I would ye were hence, that ye were
not bruised nor hurt with this strong knight. But I let you wit that
Sir Persant of Inde is nothing of might nor strength unto the knight
that laid the siege about my lady. As for that, said Sir Beaumains, be
it as it be may. For sithen I am come so nigh this knight I will prove
his might or I depart from him, and else I shall be shamed an I now
withdraw me from him. And therefore, damosel, have ye no doubt by the
grace of God I shall so deal with this knight that within two hours
after noon I shall deliver him. And then shall we come to the siege by
daylight. O Jesu, marvel have I, said the damosel, what manner a man ye
be, for it may never be otherwise but that ye be come of a noble blood,
for so foul nor shamefully did never woman rule a knight as I have done
you, and ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came never but
of a gentle blood.
Damosel, said Beaumains, a knight may little do that may not suffer a
damosel, for whatsomever ye said unto me I took none heed to your
words, for the more ye said the more ye angered me, and my wrath I
wreaked upon them that I had ado withal. And therefore all the
missaying that ye missaid me furthered me in my battle, and caused me
to think to show and prove myself at the end what I was; for
peradventure though I had meat in King Arthur’s kitchen, yet I might
have had meat enough in other places, but all that I did it for to
prove and assay my friends, and that shall be known another day; and
whether that I be a gentleman born or none, I let you wit, fair
damosel, I have done you gentleman’s service, and peradventure better
service yet will I do or I depart from you. Alas, she said, fair
Beaumains, forgive me all that I have missaid or done against thee.
With all my heart, said he, I forgive it you, for ye did nothing but as
ye should do, for all your evil words pleased me; and damosel, said
Beaumains, since it liketh you to say thus fair unto me, wit ye well it
gladdeth my heart greatly, and now meseemeth there is no knight living
but I am able enough for him.
CHAPTER XII. How Beaumains fought with Sir Persant of Inde, and made
him to be yielden.
With this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them as they hoved in the
field, and knightly he sent to them whether he came in war or in peace.
Say to thy lord, said Beaumains, I take no force, but whether as him
list himself. So the messenger went again unto Sir Persant and told him
all his answer. Well then will I have ado with him to the utterance,
and so he purveyed him and rode against him. And Beaumains saw him and
made him ready, and there they met with all that ever their horses
might run, and brast their spears either in three pieces, and their
horses rushed so together that both their horses fell dead to the
earth; and lightly they avoided their horses and put their shields
afore them, and drew their swords, and gave many great strokes that
sometime they hurtled together that they fell grovelling on the ground.
Thus they fought two hours and more, that their shields and their
hauberks were all forhewen, and in many steads they were wounded. So at
the last Sir Beaumains smote him through the cost of the body, and then
he retrayed him here and there, and knightly maintained his battle long
time. And at the last, though him loath were, Beaumains smote Sir
Persant above upon the helm, that he fell grovelling to the earth; and
then he leapt upon him overthwart and unlaced his helm to have slain
him.
Then Sir Persant yielded him and asked him mercy. With that came the
damosel and prayed to save his life. I will well, for it were pity this
noble knight should die. Gramercy, said Persant, gentle knight and
damosel. For certainly now I wot well it was ye that slew my brother
the Black Knight at the black thorn; he was a full noble knight, his
name was Sir Percard. Also I am sure that ye are he that won mine other
brother the Green Knight, his name was Sir Pertolepe. Also ye won my
brother the Red Knight, Sir Perimones. And now since ye have won these,
this shall I do for to please you: ye shall have homage and fealty of
me, and an hundred knights to be always at your commandment, to go and
ride where ye will command us. And so they went unto Sir Persant’s
pavilion and drank the wine, and ate spices, and afterward Sir Persant
made him to rest upon a bed until supper time, and after supper to bed
again. When Beaumains was abed, Sir Persant had a lady, a fair daughter
of eighteen year of age, and there he called her unto him, and charged
her and commanded her upon his blessing to go unto the knight’s bed,
and lie down by his side, and make him no strange cheer, but good
cheer, and take him in thine arms and kiss him, and look that this be
done, I charge you, as ye will have my love and my good will. So Sir
Persant’s daughter did as her father bade her, and so she went unto Sir
Beaumains’ bed, and privily she dispoiled her, and laid her down by
him, and then he awoke and saw her, and asked her what she was. Sir,
she said, I am Sir Persant’s daughter, that by the commandment of my
father am come hither. Be ye a maid or a wife? said he. Sir, she said,
I am a clean maiden. God defend, said he, that I should defoil you to
do Sir Persant such a shame; therefore, fair damosel, arise out of this
bed or else I will. Sir, she said, I came not to you by mine own will,
but as I was commanded. Alas, said Sir Beaumains, I were a shameful
knight an I would do your father any disworship; and so he kissed her,
and so she departed and came unto Sir Persant her father, and told him
all how she had sped. Truly, said Sir Persant, whatsomever he be, he is
come of a noble blood. And so we leave them there till on the morn.
CHAPTER XIII. Of the goodly communication between Sir Persant and
Beaumains, and how he told him that his name was Sir Gareth.
And so on the morn the damosel and Sir Beaumains heard mass and brake
their fast, and so took their leave. Fair damosel, said Persant,
whitherward are ye way-leading this knight? Sir, she said, this knight
is going to the siege that besiegeth my sister in the Castle Dangerous.
Ah, ah, said Persant, that is the Knight of the Red Laund, the which is
the most perilous knight that I know now living, and a man that is
without mercy, and men say that he hath seven men’s strength. God save
you, said he to Beaumains, from that knight, for he doth great wrong to
that lady, and that is great pity, for she is one of the fairest ladies
of the world, and meseemeth that your damosel is her sister: is not
your name Linet? said he. Yea, sir, said she, and my lady my sister’s
name is Dame Lionesse. Now shall I tell you, said Sir Persant, this Red
Knight of the Red Laund hath lain long at the siege, well-nigh this two
years, and many times he might have had her an he had would, but he
prolongeth the time to this intent, for to have Sir Launcelot du Lake
to do battle with him, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamorak de Galis, or Sir
Gawaine, and this is his tarrying so long at the siege.
Now my lord Sir Persant of Inde, said the damosel Linet, I require you
that ye will make this gentleman knight or ever he fight with the Red
Knight. I will with all my heart, said Sir Persant, an it please him to
take the order of knighthood of so simple a man as I am. Sir, said
Beaumains, I thank you for your good will, for I am better sped, for
certainly the noble knight Sir Launcelot made me knight. Ah, said Sir
Persant, of a more renowned knight might ye not be made knight; for of
all knights he may be called chief of knighthood; and so all the world
saith, that betwixt three knights is departed clearly knighthood, that
is Launcelot du Lake, Sir Tristram de Liones, and Sir Lamorak de Galis:
these bear now the renown. There be many other knights, as Sir
Palamides the Saracen and Sir Safere his brother; also Sir Bleoberis
and Sir Blamore de Ganis his brother; also Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir
Ector de Maris and Sir Percivale de Galis; these and many more be noble
knights, but there be none that pass the three above said; therefore
God speed you well, said Sir Persant, for an ye may match the Red
Knight ye shall be called the fourth of the world.
Sir, said Beaumains, I would fain be of good fame and of knighthood.
And I let you wit I came of good men, for I dare say my father was a
noble man, and so that ye will keep it in close, and this damosel, I
will tell you of what kin I am. We will not discover you, said they
both, till ye command us, by the faith we owe unto God. Truly then,
said he, my name is Gareth of Orkney, and King Lot was my father, and
my mother is King Arthur’s sister, her name is Dame Morgawse, and Sir
Gawaine is my brother, and Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris, and I am the
youngest of them all. And yet wot not King Arthur nor Sir Gawaine what
I am.
CHAPTER XIV. How the lady that was besieged had word from her sister
how she had brought a knight to fight for her, and what battles he had
achieved.
So the book saith that the lady that was besieged had word of her
sister’s coming by the dwarf, and a knight with her, and how he had
passed all the perilous passages. What manner a man is he? said the
lady. He is a noble knight, truly, madam, said the dwarf, and but a
young man, but he is as likely a man as ever ye saw any. What is he?
said the damosel, and of what kin is he come, and of whom was he made
knight? Madam, said the dwarf, he is the king’s son of Orkney, but his
name I will not tell you as at this time; but wit ye well, of Sir
Launcelot was he made knight, for of none other would he be made
knight, and Sir Kay named him Beaumains. How escaped he, said the lady,
from the brethren of Persant? Madam, he said, as a noble knight should.
First, he slew two brethren at a passage of a water. Ah! said she, they
were good knights, but they were murderers, the one hight Gherard le
Breuse, and the other knight hight Sir Arnold le Breuse. Then, madam,
he recountered with the Black Knight, and slew him in plain battle, and
so he took his horse and his armour and fought with the Green Knight
and won him in plain battle, and in like wise he served the Red Knight,
and after in the same wise he served the Blue Knight and won him in
plain battle. Then, said the lady, he hath overcome Sir Persant of
Inde, one of the noblest knights of the world, and the dwarf said, He
hath won all the four brethren and slain the Black Knight, and yet he
did more to-fore: he overthrew Sir Kay and left him nigh dead upon the
ground; also he did a great battle with Sir Launcelot, and there they
departed on even hands: and then Sir Launcelot made him knight.
Dwarf, said the lady, I am glad of these tidings, therefore go thou in
an hermitage of mine hereby, and there shalt thou bear with thee of my
wine in two flagons of silver, they are of two gallons, and also two
cast of bread with fat venison baked, and dainty fowls; and a cup of
gold here I deliver thee, that is rich and precious; and bear all this
to mine hermitage, and put it in the hermit’s hands. And sithen go thou
unto my sister and greet her well, and commend me unto that gentle
knight, and pray him to eat and to drink and make him strong, and say
ye him I thank him of his courtesy and goodness, that he would take
upon him such labour for me that never did him bounty nor courtesy.
Also pray him that he be of good heart and courage, for he shall meet
with a full noble knight, but he is neither of bounty, courtesy, nor
gentleness; for he attendeth unto nothing but to murder, and that is
the cause I cannot praise him nor love him.
So this dwarf departed, and came to Sir Persant, where he found the
damosel Linet and Sir Beaumains, and there he told them all as ye have
heard; and then they took their leave, but Sir Persant took an ambling
hackney and conveyed them on their ways, and then beleft them to God;
and so within a little while they came to that hermitage, and there
they drank the wine, and ate the venison and the fowls baken. And so
when they had repasted them well, the dwarf returned again with his
vessel unto the castle again; and there met with him the Red Knight of
the Red Launds, and asked him from whence that he came, and where he
had been. Sir, said the dwarf, I have been with my lady’s sister of
this castle, and she hath been at King Arthur’s court, and brought a
knight with her. Then I account her travail but lost; for though she
had brought with her Sir Launcelot, Sir Tristram, Sir Lamorak, or Sir
Gawaine, I would think myself good enough for them all.
It may well be, said the dwarf, but this knight hath passed all the
perilous passages, and slain the Black Knight and other two more, and
won the Green Knight, the Red Knight, and the Blue Knight. Then is he
one of these four that I have afore rehearsed. He is none of those,
said the dwarf, but he is a king’s son. What is his name? said the Red
Knight of the Red Launds. That will I not tell you, said the dwarf, but
Sir Kay upon scorn named him Beaumains. I care not, said the knight,
what knight so ever he be, for I shall soon deliver him. And if I ever
match him he shall have a shameful death as many other have had. That
were pity, said the dwarf, and it is marvel that ye make such shameful
war upon noble knights.
CHAPTER XV. How the damosel and Beaumains came to the siege; and came
to a sycamore tree, and there Beaumains blew a horn, and then the
Knight of the Red Launds came to fight with him.
Now leave we the knight and the dwarf, and speak we of Beaumains, that
all night lay in the hermitage; and upon the morn he and the damosel
Linet heard their mass and brake their fast. And then they took their
horses and rode throughout a fair forest; and then they came to a
plain, and saw where were many pavilions and tents, and a fair castle,
and there was much smoke and great noise; and when they came near the
siege Sir Beaumains espied upon great trees, as he rode, how there hung
full goodly armed knights by the neck, and their shields about their
necks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels, and so there
hung nigh a forty knights shamefully with full rich arms.
Then Sir Beaumains abated his countenance and said, What meaneth this?
Fair sir, said the damosel, abate not your cheer for all this sight,
for ye must courage yourself, or else ye be all shent, for all these
knights came hither to this siege to rescue my sister Dame Lionesse,
and when the Red Knight of the Red Launds had overcome them, he put
them to this shameful death without mercy and pity. And in the same
wise he will serve you but if you quit you the better.
Now Jesu defend me, said Beaumains, from such a villainous death and
shenship of arms. For rather than I should so be faren withal, I would
rather be slain manly in plain battle. So were ye better, said the
damosel; for trust not, in him is no courtesy, but all goeth to the
death or shameful murder, and that is pity, for he is a full likely
man, well made of body, and a full noble knight of prowess, and a lord
of great lands and possessions. Truly, said Beaumains, he may well be a
good knight, but he useth shameful customs, and it is marvel that he
endureth so long that none of the noble knights of my lord Arthur’s
have not dealt with him.
And then they rode to the dykes, and saw them double dyked with full
warlike walls; and there were lodged many great lords nigh the walls;
and there was great noise of minstrelsy; and the sea beat upon the one
side of the walls, where were many ships and mariners’ noise with “hale
and how.” And also there was fast by a sycamore tree, and there hung an
horn, the greatest that ever they saw, of an elephant’s bone; and this
Knight of the Red Launds had hanged it up there, that if there came any
errant-knight, he must blow that horn, and then will he make him ready
and come to him to do battle. But, sir, I pray you, said the damosel
Linet, blow ye not the horn till it be high noon, for now it is about
prime, and now increaseth his might, that as men say he hath seven
men’s strength. Ah, fie for shame, fair damosel, say ye never so more
to me; for, an he were as good a knight as ever was, I shall never fail
him in his most might, for either I will win worship worshipfully, or
die knightly in the field. And therewith he spurred his horse straight
to the sycamore tree, and blew so the horn eagerly that all the siege
and the castle rang thereof. And then there leapt out knights out of
their tents and pavilions, and they within the castle looked over the
walls and out at windows.
Then the Red Knight of the Red Launds armed him hastily, and two barons
set on his spurs upon his heels, and all was blood red, his armour,
spear and shield. And an earl buckled his helm upon his head, and then
they brought him a red spear and a red steed, and so he rode into a
little vale under the castle, that all that were in the castle and at
the siege might behold the battle.
CHAPTER XVI. How the two knights met together, and of their talking,
and how they began their battle.
Sir, said the damosel Linet unto Sir Beaumains, look ye be glad and
light, for yonder is your deadly enemy, and at yonder window is my
lady, my sister, Dame Lionesse. Where? said Beaumains. Yonder, said the
damosel, and pointed with her finger. That is truth, said Beaumains.
She beseemeth afar the fairest lady that ever I looked upon; and truly,
he said, I ask no better quarrel than now for to do battle, for truly
she shall be my lady, and for her I will fight. And ever he looked up
to the window with glad countenance, and the Lady Lionesse made curtsey
to him down to the earth, with holding up both their hands.
With that the Red Knight of the Red Launds called to Sir Beaumains,
Leave, sir knight, thy looking, and behold me, I counsel thee; for I
warn thee well she is my lady, and for her I have done many strong
battles. If thou have so done, said Beaumains, meseemeth it was but
waste labour, for she loveth none of thy fellowship, and thou to love
that loveth not thee is but great folly. For an I understood that she
were not glad of my coming, I would be advised or I did battle for her.
But I understand by the besieging of this castle she may forbear thy
fellowship. And therefore wit thou well, thou Red Knight of the Red
Launds, I love her, and will rescue her, or else to die. Sayst thou
that? said the Red Knight, meseemeth thou ought of reason to be ware by
yonder knights that thou sawest hang upon yonder trees. Fie for shame,
said Beaumains, that ever thou shouldest say or do so evil, for in that
thou shamest thyself and knighthood, and thou mayst be sure there will
no lady love thee that knoweth thy wicked customs. And now thou weenest
that the sight of these hanged knights should fear me. Nay truly, not
so; that shameful sight causeth me to have courage and hardiness
against thee, more than I would have had against thee an thou wert a
well-ruled knight. Make thee ready, said the Red Knight of the Red
Launds, and talk no longer with me.
Then Sir Beaumains bade the damosel go from him; and then they put
their spears in their rests, and came together with all their might
that they had both, and either smote other in midst of their shields
that the paitrelles, surcingles, and cruppers brast, and fell to the
earth both, and the reins of their bridles in their hands; and so they
lay a great while sore astonied, that all that were in the castle and
in the siege weened their necks had been broken; and then many a
stranger and other said the strange knight was a big man, and a noble
jouster, for or now we saw never no knight match the Red Knight of the
Red Launds: thus they said, both within the castle and without. Then
lightly they avoided their horses and put their shields afore them, and
drew their swords and ran together like two fierce lions, and either
gave other such buffets upon their helms that they reeled backward both
two strides; and then they recovered both, and hewed great pieces off
their harness and their shields that a great part fell into the fields.
CHAPTER XVII. How after long fighting Beaumains overcame the knight and
would have slain him, but at the request of the lords he saved his
life, and made him to yield him to the lady.
And then thus they fought till it was past noon, and never would stint,
till at the last they lacked wind both; and then they stood wagging and
scattering, panting, blowing and bleeding, that all that beheld them
for the most part wept for pity. So when they had rested them a while
they yede to battle again, tracing, racing, foining as two boars. And
at some time they took their run as it had been two rams, and hurtled
together that sometime they fell grovelling to the earth: and at some
time they were so amazed that either took other’s sword instead of his
own.
Thus they endured till evensong time, that there was none that beheld
them might know whether was like to win the battle; and their armour
was so forhewn that men might see their naked sides; and in other
places they were naked, but ever the naked places they did defend. And
the Red Knight was a wily knight of war, and his wily fighting taught
Sir Beaumains to be wise; but he abought it full sore or he did espy
his fighting.
And thus by assent of them both they granted either other to rest; and
so they set them down upon two mole-hills there beside the fighting
place, and either of them unlaced his helm, and took the cold wind; for
either of their pages was fast by them, to come when they called to
unlace their harness and to set them on again at their commandment. And
then when Sir Beaumains’ helm was off, he looked up to the window, and
there he saw the fair lady Dame Lionesse, and she made him such
countenance that his heart waxed light and jolly; and therewith he bade
the Red Knight of the Red Launds make him ready, and let us do the
battle to the utterance. I will well, said the knight, and then they
laced up their helms, and their pages avoided, and they stepped
together and fought freshly; but the Red Knight of the Red Launds
awaited him, and at an overthwart smote him within the hand, that his
sword fell out of his hand; and yet he gave him another buffet upon the
helm that he fell grovelling to the earth, and the Red Knight fell over
him, for to hold him down.
Then cried the maiden Linet on high: O Sir Beaumains, where is thy
courage become? Alas, my lady my sister beholdeth thee, and she sobbeth
and weepeth, that maketh mine heart heavy. When Sir Beaumains heard her
say so, he abraid up with a great might and gat him upon his feet, and
lightly he leapt to his sword and gripped it in his hand, and doubled
his pace unto the Red Knight, and there they fought a new battle
together. But Sir Beaumains then doubled his strokes, and smote so
thick that he smote the sword out of his hand, and then he smote him
upon the helm that he fell to the earth, and Sir Beaumains fell upon
him, and unlaced his helm to have slain him; and then he yielded him
and asked mercy, and said with a loud voice: O noble knight, I yield me
to thy mercy.
Then Sir Beaumains bethought him upon the knights that he had made to
be hanged shamefully, and then he said: I may not with my worship save
thy life, for the shameful deaths that thou hast caused many full good
knights to die. Sir, said the Red Knight of the Red Launds, hold your
hand and ye shall know the causes why I put them to so shameful a
death. Say on, said Sir Beaumains. Sir, I loved once a lady, a fair
damosel, and she had her brother slain; and she said it was Sir
Launcelot du Lake, or else Sir Gawaine; and she prayed me as that I
loved her heartily, that I would make her a promise by the faith of my
knighthood, for to labour daily in arms unto I met with one of them;
and all that I might overcome I should put them unto a villainous
death; and this is the cause that I have put all these knights to
death, and so I ensured her to do all the villainy unto King Arthur’s
knights, and that I should take vengeance upon all these knights. And,
sir, now I will thee tell that every day my strength increaseth till
noon, and all this time have I seven men’s strength.
CHAPTER XVIII. How the knight yielded him, and how Beaumains made him
to go unto King Arthur’s court, and to cry Sir Launcelot mercy.
Then came there many earls, and barons, and noble knights, and prayed
that knight to save his life, and take him to your prisoner. And all
they fell upon their knees, and prayed him of mercy, and that he would
save his life; and, Sir, they all said, it were fairer of him to take
homage and fealty, and let him hold his lands of you than for to slay
him; by his death ye shall have none advantage, and his misdeeds that
be done may not be undone; and therefore he shall make amends to all
parties, and we all will become your men and do you homage and fealty.
Fair lords, said Beaumains, wit you well I am full loath to slay this
knight, nevertheless he hath done passing ill and shamefully; but
insomuch all that he did was at a lady’s request I blame him the less;
and so for your sake I will release him that he shall have his life
upon this covenant, that he go within the castle, and yield him there
to the lady, and if she will forgive and quit him, I will well; with
this he make her amends of all the trespass he hath done against her
and her lands. And also, when that is done, that ye go unto the court
of King Arthur, and there that ye ask Sir Launcelot mercy, and Sir
Gawaine, for the evil will ye have had against them. Sir, said the Red
Knight of the Red Launds, all this will I do as ye command, and siker
assurance and borrows ye shall have. And so then when the assurance was
made, he made his homage and fealty, and all those earls and barons
with him.
And then the maiden Linet came to Sir Beaumains, and unarmed him and
searched his wounds, and stinted his blood, and in likewise she did to
the Red Knight of the Red Launds. And there they sojourned ten days in
their tents; and the Red Knight made his lords and servants to do all
the pleasure that they might unto Sir Beaumains. And so within a while
the Red Knight of the Red Launds yede unto the castle, and put him in
her grace. And so she received him upon sufficient surety, so all her
hurts were well restored of all that she could complain. And then he
departed unto the court of King Arthur, and there openly the Red Knight
of the Red Launds put him in the mercy of Sir Launcelot and Sir
Gawaine, and there he told openly how he was overcome and by whom, and
also he told all the battles from the beginning unto the ending. Jesu
mercy, said King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, we marvel much of what blood
he is come, for he is a noble knight. Have ye no marvel, said Sir
Launcelot, for ye shall right well wit that he is come of a full noble
blood; and as for his might and hardiness, there be but few now living
that is so mighty as he is, and so noble of prowess. It seemeth by you,
said King Arthur, that ye know his name, and from whence he is come,
and of what blood he is. I suppose I do so, said Launcelot, or else I
would not have given him the order of knighthood; but he gave me such
charge at that time that I should never discover him until he required
me, or else it be known openly by some other.
CHAPTER XIX. How Beaumains came to the lady, and when he came to the
castle the gates were closed against him, and of the words that the
lady said to him.
Now turn we unto Sir Beaumains that desired of Linet that he might see
her sister, his lady. Sir, she said, I would fain ye saw her. Then Sir
Beaumains all armed him, and took his horse and his spear, and rode
straight unto the castle. And when he came to the gate he found there
many men armed, and pulled up the drawbridge and drew the port close.
Then marvelled he why they would not suffer him to enter. And then he
looked up to the window; and there he saw the fair Lionesse that said
on high: Go thy way, Sir Beaumains, for as yet thou shalt not have
wholly my love, unto the time that thou be called one of the number of
the worthy knights. And therefore go labour in worship this
twelvemonth, and then thou shalt hear new tidings. Alas, fair lady,
said Beaumains, I have not deserved that ye should show me this
strangeness, and I had weened that I should have right good cheer with
you, and unto my power I have deserved thank, and well I am sure I have
bought your love with part of the best blood within my body. Fair
courteous knight, said Dame Lionesse, be not displeased nor over-hasty;
for wit you well your great travail nor good love shall not be lost,
for I consider your great travail and labour, your bounty and your
goodness as me ought to do. And therefore go on your way, and look that
ye be of good comfort, for all shall be for your worship and for the
best, and perdy a twelvemonth will soon be done, and trust me, fair
knight, I shall be true to you, and never to betray you, but to my
death I shall love you and none other. And therewithal she turned her
from the window, and Sir Beaumains rode awayward from the castle,
making great dole, and so he rode here and there and wist not where he
rode, till it was dark night. And then it happened him to come to a
poor man’s house, and there he was harboured all that night.
But Sir Beaumains had no rest, but wallowed and writhed for the love of
the lady of the castle. And so upon the morrow he took his horse and
rode until underne, and then he came to a broad water, and thereby was
a great lodge, and there he alighted to sleep and laid his head upon
the shield, and betook his horse to the dwarf, and commanded him to
watch all night.
Now turn we to the lady of the same castle, that thought much upon
Beaumains, and then she called unto her Sir Gringamore her brother, and
prayed him in all manner, as he loved her heartily, that he would ride
after Sir Beaumains: And ever have ye wait upon him till ye may find
him sleeping, for I am sure in his heaviness he will alight down in
some place, and lie him down to sleep; and therefore have ye your wait
upon him, and in the priviest manner ye can, take his dwarf, and go ye
your way with him as fast as ever ye may or Sir Beaumains awake. For my
sister Linet telleth me that he can tell of what kindred he is come,
and what is his right name. And the meanwhile I and my sister will ride
unto your castle to await when ye bring with you the dwarf. And then
when ye have brought him unto your castle, I will have him in
examination myself. Unto the time that I know what is his right name,
and of what kindred he is come, shall I never be merry at my heart.
Sister, said Sir Gringamore, all this shall be done after your intent.
And so he rode all the other day and the night till that he found Sir
Beaumains lying by a water, and his head upon his shield, for to sleep.
And then when he saw Sir Beaumains fast asleep, he came stilly stalking
behind the dwarf, and plucked him fast under his arm, and so he rode
away with him as fast as ever he might unto his own castle. And this
Sir Gringamore’s arms were all black, and that to him longeth. But ever
as he rode with the dwarf toward his castle, he cried unto his lord and
prayed him of help. And therewith awoke Sir Beaumains, and up he leapt
lightly, and saw where Sir Gringamore rode his way with the dwarf, and
so Sir Gringamore rode out of his sight.
CHAPTER XX. How Sir Beaumains rode after to rescue his dwarf, and came
into the castle where he was.
Then Sir Beaumains put on his helm anon, and buckled his shield, and
took his horse, and rode after him all that ever he might ride through
marshes, and fields, and great dales, that many times his horse and he
plunged over the head in deep mires, for he knew not the way, but took
the gainest way in that woodness, that many times he was like to
perish. And at the last him happened to come to a fair green way, and
there he met with a poor man of the country, whom he saluted and asked
him whether he met not with a knight upon a black horse and all black
harness, a little dwarf sitting behind him with heavy cheer. Sir, said
the poor man, here by me came Sir Gringamore the knight, with such a
dwarf mourning as ye say; and therefore I rede you not follow him, for
he is one of the periloust knights of the world, and his castle is here
nigh hand but two mile; therefore we advise you ride not after Sir
Gringamore, but if ye owe him good will.
So leave we Sir Beaumains riding toward the castle, and speak we of Sir
Gringamore and the dwarf. Anon as the dwarf was come to the castle,
Dame Lionesse and Dame Linet her sister, asked the dwarf where was his
master born, and of what lineage he was come. And but if thou tell me,
said Dame Lionesse, thou shalt never escape this castle, but ever here
to be prisoner. As for that, said the dwarf, I fear not greatly to tell
his name and of what kin he is come. Wit you well he is a king’s son,
and his mother is sister to King Arthur, and he is brother to the good
knight Sir Gawaine, and his name is Sir Gareth of Orkney. And now I
have told you his right name, I pray you, fair lady, let me go to my
lord again, for he will never out of this country until that he have me
again. And if he be angry he will do much harm or that he be stint, and
work you wrack in this country. As for that threatening, said Sir
Gringamore, be it as it be may, we will go to dinner. And so they
washed and went to meat, and made them merry and well at ease, and
because the Lady Lionesse of the castle was there, they made great joy.
Truly, madam, said Linet unto her sister, well may he be a king’s son,
for he hath many good tatches on him, for he is courteous and mild, and
the most suffering man that ever I met withal. For I dare say there was
never gentlewoman reviled man in so foul a manner as I have rebuked
him; and at all times he gave me goodly and meek answers again.
And as they sat thus talking, there came Sir Gareth in at the gate with
an angry countenance, and his sword drawn in his hand, and cried aloud
that all the castle might hear it, saying: Thou traitor, Sir
Gringamore, deliver me my dwarf again, or by the faith that I owe to
the order of knighthood, I shall do thee all the harm that I can. Then
Sir Gringamore looked out at a window and said, Sir Gareth of Orkney,
leave thy boasting words, for thou gettest not thy dwarf again. Thou
coward knight, said Sir Gareth, bring him with thee, and come and do
battle with me, and win him and take him. So will I do, said Sir
Gringamore, an me list, but for all thy great words thou gettest him
not. Ah! fair brother, said Dame Lionesse, I would he had his dwarf
again, for I would he were not wroth, for now he hath told me all my
desire I keep no more of the dwarf. And also, brother, he hath done
much for me, and delivered me from the Red Knight of the Red Launds,
and therefore, brother, I owe him my service afore all knights living.
And wit ye well that I love him before all other, and full fain I would
speak with him. But in nowise I would that he wist what I were, but
that I were another strange lady.
Well, said Sir Gringamore, sithen I know now your will, I will obey now
unto him. And right therewithal he went down unto Sir Gareth, and said:
Sir, I cry you mercy, and all that I have misdone I will amend it at
your will. And therefore I pray you that ye would alight, and take such
cheer as I can make you in this castle. Shall I have my dwarf? said Sir
Gareth. Yea, sir, and all the pleasaunce that I can make you, for as
soon as your dwarf told me what ye were and of what blood ye are come,
and what noble deeds ye have done in these marches, then I repented of
my deeds. And then Sir Gareth alighted, and there came his dwarf and
took his horse. O my fellow, said Sir Gareth, I have had many
adventures for thy sake. And so Sir Gringamore took him by the hand and
led him into the hall where his own wife was.
CHAPTER XXI. How Sir Gareth, otherwise called Beaumains, came to the
presence of his lady, and how they took acquaintance, and of their
love.
And then came forth Dame Lionesse arrayed like a princess, and there
she made him passing good cheer, and he her again; and they had goodly
language and lovely countenance together. And Sir Gareth thought many
times, Jesu, would that the lady of the Castle Perilous were so fair as
she was. There were all manner of games and plays, of dancing and
singing. And ever the more Sir Gareth beheld that lady, the more he
loved her; and so he burned in love that he was past himself in his
reason; and forth toward night they yede unto supper, and Sir Gareth
might not eat, for his love was so hot that he wist not where he was.
All these looks espied Sir Gringamore, and then at-after supper he
called his sister Dame Lionesse into a chamber, and said: Fair sister,
I have well espied your countenance betwixt you and this knight, and I
will, sister, that ye wit he is a full noble knight, and if ye can make
him to abide here I will do him all the pleasure that I can, for an ye
were better than ye are, ye were well bywaryd upon him. Fair brother,
said Dame Lionesse, I understand well that the knight is good, and come
he is of a noble house. Notwithstanding, I will assay him better,
howbeit I am most beholden to him of any earthly man; for he hath had
great labour for my love, and passed many a dangerous passage.
Right so Sir Gringamore went unto Sir Gareth, and said, Sir, make ye
good cheer, for ye shall have none other cause, for this lady, my
sister, is yours at all times, her worship saved, for wit ye well she
loveth you as well as ye do her, and better if better may be. An I wist
that, said Sir Gareth, there lived not a gladder man than I would be.
Upon my worship, said Sir Gringamore, trust unto my promise; and as
long as it liketh you ye shall sojourn with me, and this lady shall be
with us daily and nightly to make you all the cheer that she can. I
will well, said Sir Gareth, for I have promised to be nigh this country
this twelvemonth. And well I am sure King Arthur and other noble
knights will find me where that I am within this twelvemonth. For I
shall be sought and found, if that I be alive. And then the noble
knight Sir Gareth went unto the Dame Lionesse, which he then much
loved, and kissed her many times, and either made great joy of other.
And there she promised him her love certainly, to love him and none
other the days of her life. Then this lady, Dame Lionesse, by the
assent of her brother, told Sir Gareth all the truth what she was, and
how she was the same lady that he did battle for, and how she was lady
of the Castle Perilous, and there she told him how she caused her
brother to take away his dwarf.
CHAPTER XXII. How at night came an armed knight, and fought with Sir
Gareth, and he, sore hurt in the thigh, smote off the knight’s head.
For this cause, to know the certainty what was your name, and of what
kin ye were come.
And then she let fetch to-fore him Linet, the damosel that had ridden
with him many wildsome ways. Then was Sir Gareth more gladder than he
was to-fore. And then they troth-plight each other to love, and never
to fail whiles their life lasteth. And so they burnt both in love, that
they were accorded to abate their lusts secretly. And there Dame
Lionesse counselled Sir Gareth to sleep in none other place but in the
hall. And there she promised him to come to his bed a little afore
midnight.
This counsel was not so privily kept but it was understood; for they
were but young both, and tender of age, and had not used none such
crafts to-fore. Wherefore the damosel Linet was a little displeased,
and she thought her sister Dame Lionesse was a little over-hasty, that
she might not abide the time of her marriage; and for saving their
worship, she thought to abate their hot lusts. And so she let ordain by
her subtle crafts that they had not their intents neither with other,
as in their delights, until they were married. And so it passed on.
At-after supper was made clean avoidance, that every lord and lady
should go unto his rest. But Sir Gareth said plainly he would go no
farther than the hall, for in such places, he said, was convenient for
an errant-knight to take his rest in; and so there were ordained great
couches, and thereon feather beds, and there laid him down to sleep;
and within a while came Dame Lionesse, wrapped in a mantle furred with
ermine, and laid her down beside Sir Gareth. And therewithal he began
to kiss her. And then he looked afore him, and there he apperceived and
saw come an armed knight, with many lights about him; and this knight
had a long gisarm in his hand, and made grim countenance to smite him.
When Sir Gareth saw him come in that wise, he leapt out of his bed, and
gat in his hand his sword, and leapt straight toward that knight. And
when the knight saw Sir Gareth come so fiercely upon him, he smote him
with a foin through the thick of the thigh that the wound was a
shaftmon broad and had cut a-two many veins and sinews. And therewithal
Sir Gareth smote him upon the helm such a buffet that he fell
grovelling; and then he leapt over him and unlaced his helm, and smote
off his head from the body. And then he bled so fast that he might not
stand, but so he laid him down upon his bed, and there he swooned and
lay as he had been dead.
Then Dame Lionesse cried aloud, that her brother Sir Gringamore heard,
and came down. And when he saw Sir Gareth so shamefully wounded he was
sore displeased, and said: I am shamed that this noble knight is thus
honoured. Sir, said Sir Gringamore, how may this be, that ye be here,
and this noble knight wounded? Brother, she said, I can not tell you,
for it was not done by me, nor by mine assent. For he is my lord and I
am his, and he must be mine husband; therefore, my brother, I will that
ye wit I shame me not to be with him, nor to do him all the pleasure
that I can. Sister, said Sir Gringamore, and I will that ye wit it, and
Sir Gareth both, that it was never done by me, nor by my assent that
this unhappy deed was done. And there they staunched his bleeding as
well as they might, and great sorrow made Sir Gringamore and Dame
Lionesse.
And forthwithal came Dame Linet, and took up the head in the sight of
them all, and anointed it with an ointment thereas it was smitten off;
and in the same wise she did to the other part thereas the head stuck,
and then she set it together, and it stuck as fast as ever it did. And
the knight arose lightly up, and the damosel Linet put him in her
chamber. All this saw Sir Gringamore and Dame Lionesse, and so did Sir
Gareth; and well he espied that it was the damosel Linet, that rode
with him through the perilous passages. Ah well, damosel, said Sir
Gareth, I weened ye would not have done as ye have done. My lord
Gareth, said Linet, all that I have done I will avow, and all that I
have done shall be for your honour and worship, and to us all. And so
within a while Sir Gareth was nigh whole, and waxed light and jocund,
and sang, danced, and gamed; and he and Dame Lionesse were so hot in
burning love that they made their covenant at the tenth night after,
that she should come to his bed. And because he was wounded afore, he
laid his armour and his sword nigh his bed’s side.
CHAPTER XXIII. How the said knight came again the next night and was
beheaded again, and how at the feast of Pentecost all the knights that
Sir Gareth had overcome came and yielded them to King Arthur.
Right as she promised she came; and she was not so soon in his bed but
she espied an armed knight coming toward the bed: therewithal she
warned Sir Gareth, and lightly through the good help of Dame Lionesse
he was armed; and they hurtled together with great ire and malice all
about the hall; and there was great light as it had been the number of
twenty torches both before and behind, so that Sir Gareth strained him,
so that his old wound brast again a-bleeding; but he was hot and
courageous and took no keep, but with his great force he struck down
that knight, and voided his helm, and struck off his head. Then he
hewed the head in an hundred pieces. And when he had done so he took up
all those pieces, and threw them out at a window into the ditches of
the castle; and by this done he was so faint that unnethes he might
stand for bleeding. And by when he was almost unarmed he fell in a
deadly swoon on the floor; and then Dame Lionesse cried so that Sir
Gringamore heard; and when he came and found Sir Gareth in that plight
he made great sorrow; and there he awaked Sir Gareth, and gave him a
drink that relieved him wonderly well; but the sorrow that Dame
Lionesse made there may no tongue tell, for she so fared with herself
as she would have died.
Right so came this damosel Linet before them all, and she had fetched
all the gobbets of the head that Sir Gareth had thrown out at a window,
and there she anointed them as she had done to-fore, and set them
together again. Well, damosel Linet, said Sir Gareth, I have not
deserved all this despite that ye do unto me. Sir knight, she said, I
have nothing done but I will avow, and all that I have done shall be to
your worship, and to us all. And then was Sir Gareth staunched of his
bleeding. But the leeches said that there was no man that bare the life
should heal him throughout of his wound but if they healed him that
caused that stroke by enchantment.
So leave we Sir Gareth there with Sir Gringamore and his sisters, and
turn we unto King Arthur, that at the next feast of Pentecost held his
feast; and there came the Green Knight with fifty knights, and yielded
them all unto King Arthur. And so there came the Red Knight his
brother, and yielded him to King Arthur, and three score knights with
him. Also there came the Blue Knight, brother to them, with an hundred
knights, and yielded them unto King Arthur; and the Green Knight’s name
was Pertolepe, and the Red Knight’s name was Perimones, and the Blue
Knight’s name was Sir Persant of Inde. These three brethren told King
Arthur how they were overcome by a knight that a damosel had with her,
and called him Beaumains. Jesu, said the king, I marvel what knight he
is, and of what lineage he is come. He was with me a twelvemonth, and
poorly and shamefully he was fostered, and Sir Kay in scorn named him
Beaumains. So right as the king stood so talking with these three
brethren, there came Sir Launcelot du Lake, and told the king that
there was come a goodly lord with six hundred knights with him.
Then the king went out of Carlion, for there was the feast, and there
came to him this lord, and saluted the king in a goodly manner. What
will ye, said King Arthur, and what is your errand? Sir, he said, my
name is the Red Knight of the Red Launds, but my name is Sir Ironside;
and sir, wit ye well, here I am sent to you of a knight that is called
Beaumains, for he won me in plain battle hand for hand, and so did
never no knight but he, that ever had the better of me this thirty
winter; the which commanded to yield me to you at your will. Ye are
welcome, said the king, for ye have been long a great foe to me and my
court, and now I trust to God I shall so entreat you that ye shall be
my friend. Sir, both I and these five hundred knights shall always be
at your summons to do you service as may lie in our powers. Jesu mercy,
said King Arthur, I am much beholden unto that knight that hath put so
his body in devoir to worship me and my court. And as to thee,
Ironside, that art called the Red Knight of the Red Launds, thou art
called a perilous knight; and if thou wilt hold of me I shall worship
thee and make thee knight of the Table Round; but then thou must be no
more a murderer. Sir, as to that, I have promised unto Sir Beaumains
never more to use such customs, for all the shameful customs that I
used I did at the request of a lady that I loved; and therefore I must
go unto Sir Launcelot, and unto Sir Gawaine, and ask them forgiveness
of the evil will I had unto them; for all that I put to death was all
only for the love of Sir Launcelot and of Sir Gawaine. They be here
now, said the king, afore thee, now may ye say to them what ye will.
And then he kneeled down unto Sir Launcelot, and to Sir Gawaine, and
prayed them of forgiveness of his enmity that ever he had against them.
CHAPTER XXIV. How King Arthur pardoned them, and demanded of them where
Sir Gareth was.
Then goodly they said all at once, God forgive you, and we do, and pray
you that ye will tell us where we may find Sir Beaumains. Fair lords,
said Sir Ironside, I cannot tell you, for it is full hard to find him;
for such young knights as he is one, when they be in their adventures
be never abiding in no place. But to say the worship that the Red
Knight of the Red Launds, and Sir Persant and his brother said of
Beaumains, it was marvel to hear. Well, my fair lords, said King
Arthur, wit you well I shall do you honour for the love of Sir
Beaumains, and as soon as ever I meet with him I shall make you all
upon one day knights of the Table Round. And as to thee, Sir Persant of
Inde, thou hast been ever called a full noble knight, and so have ever
been thy three brethren called. But I marvel, said the king, that I
hear not of the Black Knight your brother, he was a full noble knight.
Sir, said Pertolepe, the Green Knight, Sir Beaumains slew him in a
recounter with his spear, his name was Sir Percard. That was great
pity, said the king, and so said many knights. For these four brethren
were full well known in the court of King Arthur for noble knights, for
long time they had holden war against the knights of the Round Table.
Then said Pertolepe, the Green Knight, to the king: At a passage of the
water of Mortaise there encountered Sir Beaumains with two brethren
that ever for the most part kept that passage, and they were two deadly
knights, and there he slew the eldest brother in the water, and smote
him upon the head such a buffet that he fell down in the water, and
there he was drowned, and his name was Sir Gherard le Breusse; and
after he slew the other brother upon the land, his name was Sir Arnold
le Breusse.
CHAPTER XXV. How the Queen of Orkney came to this feast of Pentecost,
and Sir Gawaine and his brethren came to ask her blessing.
So then the king and they went to meat, and were served in the best
manner. And as they sat at the meat, there came in the Queen of Orkney,
with ladies and knights a great number. And then Sir Gawaine, Sir
Agravaine, and Gaheris arose, and went to her and saluted her upon
their knees, and asked her blessing; for in fifteen year they had not
seen her. Then she spake on high to her brother King Arthur: Where have
ye done my young son Sir Gareth? He was here amongst you a twelvemonth,
and ye made a kitchen knave of him, the which is shame to you all.
Alas, where have ye done my dear son that was my joy and bliss? O dear
mother, said Sir Gawaine, I knew him not. Nor I, said the king, that
now me repenteth, but thanked be God he is proved a worshipful knight
as any is now living of his years, and I shall never be glad till I may
find him.
Ah, brother, said the Queen unto King Arthur, and unto Sir Gawaine, and
to all her sons, ye did yourself great shame when ye amongst you kept
my son in the kitchen and fed him like a poor hog. Fair sister, said
King Arthur, ye shall right well wit I knew him not, nor no more did
Sir Gawaine, nor his brethren; but sithen it is so, said the king, that
he is thus gone from us all, we must shape a remedy to find him. Also,
sister, meseemeth ye might have done me to wit of his coming, and then
an I had not done well to him ye might have blamed me. For when he came
to this court he came leaning upon two men’s shoulders, as though he
might not have gone. And then he asked me three gifts; and one he asked
the same day, that was that I would give him meat enough that
twelvemonth; and the other two gifts he asked that day a twelvemonth,
and that was that he might have the adventure of the damosel Linet, and
the third was that Sir Launcelot should make him knight when he desired
him. And so I granted him all his desire, and many in this court
marvelled that he desired his sustenance for a twelvemonth. And
thereby, we deemed, many of us, that he was not come of a noble house.
Sir, said the Queen of Orkney unto King Arthur her brother, wit ye well
that I sent him unto you right well armed and horsed, and worshipfully
beseen of his body, and gold and silver plenty to spend. It may be,
said the King, but thereof saw we none, save that same day as he
departed from us, knights told me that there came a dwarf hither
suddenly, and brought him armour and a good horse full well and richly
beseen; and thereat we all had marvel from whence that riches came,
that we deemed all that he was come of men of worship. Brother, said
the queen, all that ye say I believe, for ever sithen he was grown he
was marvellously witted, and ever he was faithful and true of his
promise. But I marvel, said she, that Sir Kay did mock him and scorn
him, and gave him that name Beaumains; yet, Sir Kay, said the queen,
named him more righteously than he weened; for I dare say an he be
alive, he is as fair an handed man and well disposed as any is living.
Sir, said Arthur, let this language be still, and by the grace of God
he shall be found an he be within this seven realms, and let all this
pass and be merry, for he is proved to be a man of worship, and that is
my joy.
CHAPTER XXVI. How King Arthur sent for the Lady Lionesse, and how she
let cry a tourney at her castle, whereas came many knights.
Then said Sir Gawaine and his brethren unto Arthur, Sir, an ye will
give us leave, we will go and seek our brother. Nay, said Sir
Launcelot, that shall ye not need; and so said Sir Baudwin of Britain:
for as by our advice the king shall send unto Dame Lionesse a
messenger, and pray her that she will come to the court in all the
haste that she may, and doubt ye not she will come; and then she may
give you best counsel where ye shall find him. This is well said of
you, said the king. So then goodly letters were made, and the messenger
sent forth, that night and day he went till he came unto the Castle
Perilous. And then the lady Dame Lionesse was sent for, thereas she was
with Sir Gringamore her brother and Sir Gareth. And when she understood
this message, she bade him ride on his way unto King Arthur, and she
would come after in all goodly haste. Then when she came to Sir
Gringamore and to Sir Gareth, she told them all how King Arthur had
sent for her. That is because of me, said Sir Gareth. Now advise me,
said Dame Lionesse, what shall I say, and in what manner I shall rule
me. My lady and my love, said Sir Gareth, I pray you in no wise be ye
aknowen where I am; but well I wot my mother is there and all my
brethren, and they will take upon them to seek me, I wot well that they
do. But this, madam, I would ye said and advised the king when he
questioned with you of me. Then may ye say, this is your advice that,
an it like his good grace, ye will do make a cry against the feast of
the Assumption of our Lady, that what knight there proveth him best he
shall wield you and all your land. And if so be that he be a wedded
man, that his wife shall have the degree, and a coronal of gold beset
with stones of virtue to the value of a thousand pound, and a white
gerfalcon.
So Dame Lionesse departed and came to King Arthur, where she was nobly
received, and there she was sore questioned of the king and of the
Queen of Orkney. And she answered, where Sir Gareth was she could not
tell. But thus much she said unto Arthur: Sir, I will let cry a
tournament that shall be done before my castle at the Assumption of our
Lady, and the cry shall be this: that you, my lord Arthur, shall be
there, and your knights, and I will purvey that my knights shall be
against yours; and then I am sure ye shall hear of Sir Gareth. This is
well advised, said King Arthur; and so she departed. And the king and
she made great provision to that tournament.