SOON after this, it befell that King Arthur chose to keep the Feast of
Pentecost at a fair city and castle of his, named Kinkenadon, that was
on the sea-side near the Welsh border. And about noon on the Day of
Pentecost, as the king and all his knights were going to their meat,
there came into the hall two men richly attired, and between them,
leaning on their shoulders, there walked a young man, tall and well
made, with very broad shoulders and a comely countenance, and the
fairest and largest hands that ever man saw. Room was made for him to go
up to the high dais where sat King Arthur and Queen Guenever, and when
he stood there he said,--
“God bless thee, O King, and all thy fellowship, and in especial the
fellowship of the Round Table. For this cause am I come hither--to pray
that thou wilt give me three gifts, the which shall not be unreasonable,
but such as may be worshipfully and honourably granted. And as for the
first gift, I will ask it now, and the other two on this day twelve
months.”
“Now ask,” said King Arthur, “and you shall have your request.”
“Then, sir,” said the young man, “this is now my petition--that you will
give me meat and drink sufficient during these twelve months.”
“Ask better, my fair son, I counsel thee,” quoth the king, “for this is
but a simple request, and my heart giveth to thee greatly; for, if I be
not greatly mistaken, thou art come of men of worship, and wilt thyself
prove a worshipful knight.”
“Sir,” answered the other, “let that be as it may; I have asked all that
I will ask.”
“Well,” said Arthur, “you shall have meat and drink enough; that I never
refused to friend or foe. But what is thy name?”
“That I cannot tell you,” he answered.
“I marvel greatly at thee,” said the king, “that thou knowest not thy
name; and yet thou art one of the goodliest young men that ever I saw.”
Then he called up Sir Kay the Seneschal, and charged him to give the
youth meat and drink of the best, and to treat him in all respects as
though he were a lord’s son.
“There is little need to go to such cost for him,” said Kay, “for I dare
undertake that he is a villein born, and will never be a good man. Had
he come of gentle blood, he would have asked for horse and harness; but
even as he is, so hath he asked. Since he has no name, I will give him
one, and that is Beaumains, because he hath such fair hands. Into the
kitchen I will bring him, and there he shall have good meat and broth
every day, so that by the twelvemonth’s end he will be as fat as a pork
hog.”
Then the two squires that had brought the young man departed, and left
him with Sir Kay, who scorned and mocked him. At this was Sir Gawaine
wroth; and so was Sir Lancelot, who bade Sir Kay leave his mocking, for,
said he, “I dare lay my head he will prove a man of great worship.”
“That cannot be,” said Sir Kay, “else he would not have asked for bread
and drink. Pain of my life, he hath been brought up in some abbey, where
they have fallen short of sustenance; so he has come for it hither.”
Then the king and all the court sat down to the banquet, and Beaumains
went to the bottom of the table among the squires and boys, and there
he ate sadly. Afterwards both Lancelot and Gawaine invited him to their
chambers, and would have made much of him; but he refused them, and
would do nothing save as Sir Kay commanded. So he was put into the
kitchen, and lay every night as the scullions did; and so he endured
for the whole year, and never displeased any, but was always gentle and
mild. But whenever there was jousting, he would be there to see it if
he could; and when there were sports for the servants of the court, he
always took part, and none might cast the stone or the bar so far as he
by full two yards. Then would Sir Kay say, “How like you my boy of the
kitchen?”
The next Feast of Pentecost the king held at Caerleon in great state;
and when he and his knights went in to meat, there came a damsel and
saluted him, and prayed him for succour.
“For whom?” asked the king. “What is the adventure?”
“Sir,” said she, “there is a lady of great worship who is besieged by
a tyrant, so that she may not go out of her castle; and because it is
reported that here in your court are the noblest knights of the world, I
am come to pray you for succour.”
“What call you the lady?” again asked the king. “Where dwelleth she, and
what is his name that besieges her?”
“Sir King,” answered the damsel, “as for my lady’s name, that I may not
tell you at this time. But she hath high rank and great estate; and the
tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth her lands is called the Red
Knight of the Red Lands.”
“I know him not,” said King Arthur.
“Sir,” said Gawaine, “I know him well. He is one of the most perilous
knights in the world; it is said he has seven men’s strength, and from
him I once escaped very narrowly with my life.”
“Fair damsel,” said the king, “there be knights here that would
undertake to rescue your lady, but because you will not tell her name,
nor where she dwelleth, none of my knights shall go with you by my
will.”
“Then must I seek further,” quoth the damsel.
But while she was making ready to depart, Beaumains came before the king
and said, “Sir King, God thank you, I have been these twelve months in
your kitchen, and have had my full sustenance; and now I will ask my two
gifts that I spoke of before.”
“Ask upon my peril,” said the king.
“Then, sir, these shall be my two gifts: first, that you grant me the
adventure of this damsel.”
“Thou shalt have it,” said the king; “I grant it thee.”
“And, secondly, that ye bid Sir Lancelot du Lake to make me knight; for
of him and no other will I be made knight. And when I am gone, I pray
you let him ride after me, and make me knight when I require him.”
“All this shall be done,” said Arthur.
“Fie on you, Sir King!” said the damsel wrathfully; “shall I have none
but your kitchen-boy to undertake my adventure-?” So she took her horse
and departed. And just then there came a dwarf, who brought to Beaumains
a noble horse and armour, and all else that was fitting. When he was
armed, there were few in that court who were so goodly as he to look
upon. He took his leave of the king and Sir Gawaine, and prayed Sir
Lancelot to ride after him; and then he took his horse and rode after
the damsel.
Then said Sir Kay, “I will ride after my boy of the kitchen, to find out
whether he will know me for his better.”
“You would do better to abide at home,” said Gawaine.
But Sir Kay took his horse and spear, and rode after Beaumains, and
presently overtook him as he rode with the damsel. He called out, “What,
Sir Beaumains, know you not me?”
Then Beaumains turned his horse, and saw that it was Sir Kay.
“Yes,” he said; “I know you for an ungentle knight of the court, and
therefore beware of me.”
Thereupon Sir Kay put his spear in rest, and ran upon him. But Beaumains
turned aside the spear with his sword, and smote Sir Kay so hard on the
side that he fell as though he had been dead. Then Beaumains alighted,
and took Sir Kay’s spear and shield; and then he got on his horse again,
and continued his way, bidding his dwarf ride Sir Kay’s horse. Then came
Sir Lancelot, and Beaumains proffered him to joust. They ran together so
mightily that both were borne to the earth and much bruised. When they
rose, Beaumains put his shield before him, and asked Sir Lancelot to
fight with him on foot; and this they did for well-nigh an hour. Sir
Lancelot found Beaumains so strong that he marvelled, for he fought more
like a giant than a man. Then Lancelot began to dread lest he should be
shamed; so he said,--
“Beaumains, fight not so sore; your quarrel and mine is not so great but
we may leave off.”
“That is true,” said Beaumains; “but it doth me good to feel your might.
And yet, my lord, I have not shown the uttermost.” Then he asked Sir
Lancelot to give him the order of knighthood.
“You must first tell me your name,” said Lancelot, “and of what kin you
are born.”
“Sir, if you will not discover it, I will tell you,” said Beaumains.
This Sir Lancelot promised; and then Beaumains disclosed that he was
Gareth of Orkney, the youngest son of King Lot and brother to Sir
Gawaine. Of this Lancelot was glad, and so made him a knight. Then
Beaumains departed with the damsel, and Sir Lancelot came back to
Sir Kay, and had him borne back to Caerleon on a shield. He was long
disabled by his wound, and escaped narrowly with his life; and all
men scorned him, because he had been overthrown by him whom he had so
mocked.
But when Beaumains overtook the damsel, she gave him nothing but hard
words.
“What do you here?” she said. “You smell of the kitchen. Your clothes
are defiled with the grease and tallow you got in King Arthur’s
scullery. Think you I hold you any the better for what you did to that
knight? Not so, for you overthrew him unhappily and cowardly. Therefore,
prithee, return, poor kitchen-knave. I know thee well, for Sir Kay named
thee Beaumains. What art thou but a turner of spits and a washer of
dishes!”
“Damsel,” he answered, “say to me what you choose, I shall not quit you;
for King Arthur has given me your adventure, and I will fulfil it to the
end, or else die in it.”
“Thou finish my adventure!” she said “Talk not of it; for thou wilt be
met presently by one of such sort that, for all the broth thou hast ever
supped, thou wouldst not look him in the face.”
“That shall be seen,” said Beaumains. And as they rode through the wood,
there came one on horseback, fleeing in great fear.
“What is the matter?” asked Beaumains.
“O Knight, help me!” cried the other. “Hereby have six thieves taken my
lord and bound him, and I fear they will slay him.”
“Take me thither,” said Beaumains, and presently they came to where the
thieves were with the knight bound. Beaumains rode upon them, and with
his first three strokes he slew three of them, and the other three fled.
He followed, whereupon they turned on him, and assailed him hard with
swords and clubs; but it was to no purpose, for he slew them all, and
then returned and unbound the knight, who thanked him greatly, and
begged him to come to his castle, where he would give him rich rewards.
“Sir,” said Beaumains, “I will have no reward, and I must follow this
damsel.” But when he came near her she bade him ride farther off,
because he smelt of the kitchen. Then the knight that Beaumains had
released rode after the damsel, and prayed her to lodge with him that
night, and because it was nearly dark she assented. But when at supper
the knight set Beaumains beside the damsel, she reproached him for
placing a common kitchen-knave at the same table with a lady of
high parentage. Then the knight was ashamed of her words, and he and
Beaumains sat down at another table.
The next morning the damsel and Beaumains thanked the knight, and rode
forth again. Presently they came to a great river, where there was
but one ford, and on the farther side were two knights that kept the
passage.
“What say est thou?” said the damsel. ‘“Wilt thou match yonder two
knights, or shall we return again?”
“Nay,” said Beaumains, “I would not return again if there were six
more.” So he rushed into the water, and encountered one of the knights
in the middle of the ford. The spears of both broke in their hands; and
then they fought angrily with their swords, till at last Beaumains smote
the other so hard on the helm that he fell stunned into the water and
was drowned. Then he spurred his horse to the land, where the other
knight fell upon him and broke his spear also, and then again they
fought together with their swords, till Beaumains clove the knight’s
head to his shoulders. When the damsel saw that, she crossed over the
ford.
“Alas,” said she, “that ever a kitchen-boy should have the fortune to
destroy two such doughty knights! Think not thou hast done well; for the
first knight’s horse stumbled, and he was drowned in the water, and not
conquered by thy might; and as for the other, it was by mishap that thou
slewest him.”
“Damsel,” said he, “you may say what you will, but with whomsoever I
have to do, I trust in God to match him ere we part.”
“Fie! fie! foul kitchen-knave,” she answered. “Ere long thou shalt see a
knight that will abate thy boast.”
So then they rode on together till even-song, and ever she chid him and
scoffed at him, and would not cease. So they came to a land that was all
black, and there was a black hawthorn by the way-side, on the which hung
a black banner, and by its side a black shield. Near by stood a black
spear and a great black horse with silk trappings, and close at hand sat
a knight, all armed in black harness, who was named the Knight of the
Black Lands. When the damsel saw him she bade Beaumains flee down the
valley, for the horse was not saddled.
“I thank you,” said Beaumains; “ever you would make me a coward.”
Then the black knight came to the damsel and said, “Fair lady, have you
brought this knight from King Arthur’s court to be your champion?”
“Nay, sir,” she answered; “this is but a kitchen-knave that hath been
fed in the king’s kitchen for alms.”
“Why comes he in such an array?” asked the knight. “It is a great shame
that he bears you company.”
“Sir, I cannot be delivered of him,” said the damsel, “for he rides with
me against my will. I would that you put him from me, or else slay him;
for he is an unhappy knave, and hath done unhappily to-day through
pure misadventure, for he hath slain two knights at the passage of the
water.”
“I wonder,” said the black knight, “that any man of worship would have
to do with him.”
“Sir, they know him not,” she answered; “and because he rides with me,
they think he is some knight of good blood.”
“That may well be,” said the black knight, “especially as he seems a
full likely person, and worthy to be a strong man. But this much will
I do for you, that I shall put him down on his feet, and his horse and
armour shall he leave with me, for it were shame for me to do him any
more harm.”
“Sir Knight,” quoth Beaumains, “thou art full large of my horse and my
armour. I let thee to wit it cost thee naught; and whether thou like it
or not, this land will I pass in spite of thee. Neither horse nor armour
wilt thou get of me, except thou win it with thy hands.”
“Say you so?” said the black knight, smiling. “Now, yield thy lady to me
without more words, for it beseems not a kitchen-knave to ride with such
a lady.”
“Thou liest,” answered Beaumains. “I am a gentleman born, and of higher
lineage than thou, and that will I prove upon thy body.”
Then in great wrath they drew apart with their horses, and ran together
with a crash like thunder. The black knight broke his spear to no
purpose, but Beaumains’ spear thrust through the other’s side, and
broke in his body. Nevertheless, he drew his sword, and smote hard at
Beaumains, hurting him sorely, and Sir Beaumains struck again at him;
but in no long time the black knight fell down in a swoon on the ground,
and immediately afterwards he died there. When Beaumains saw that his
horse and armour were so good, he alighted and armed himself in the
black knight’s armour, and took his horse, and then rode after the
damsel. But ever she gave him many reproaches, and said that he had
slain the black knight through mischance; and she warned him that there
was a knight near by who would give him full payment, therefore had he
better flee. But Beaumains answered that he would not leave her for all
that she might say.
Then as they rode together they saw a knight riding by that was all
armed and dressed in green, and his horse had green trappings. When
he came nigh the damsel he said to her, “Is that my brother the black
knight that you have with you?”
“Nay,” she answered; “this is an unhappy kitchen-knave that hath slain
your brother through mischance.”
“Alas!” said the green knight, “it is a great pity that so noble a
knight should be slain by a knave’s hand.--Ah, traitor!” said he to
Beaumains, “thou shalt die for slaying my brother.”
“I defy thee,” answered Beaumains; “for I let thee to wit that I slew
him knightly, and not shamefully.”
Then they came together furiously, and the spears of both broke in their
hands. So they drew their swords, and fought a full hard battle, and the
green knight dealt Beaumains many sore strokes; but at the last, for all
he could do, Beaumains got the better of him. So then the green knight
yielded to Beaumains, and prayed him to grant him his life.
“All this is in vain,” said Beaumains, “for thou shalt die, except my
damsel pray me to spare thy life and therewith he began to unlace his
helm, as though he would have slain him.
“Fie upon thee, kitchen-page!” said the damsel; “I will never pray thee
to spare his life, for I will never be so much in thy debt.”
“Then shall he die,” quoth Beaumains.
“Alas!” said the green knight, “suffer me not to die when a fair word
would save my life.--O fair Knight,” he said to Beaumains, “do thou
spare me, and I will forgive thee the death of my brother, and ever
will be thy man, and thirty knights that hold of me shall be at thy
commandment.”
“Thou art mad,” said the damsel, “to talk of a dirty kitchen-knave
having thirty knights’ service.”
“Sir Knight,” answered Beaumains, “nothing shall avail you, unless my
damsel speak with me for thy life so he raised his sword as if to slay
him.
“Let be,” said the damsel, “thou base scullion; slay not that knight, or
else thou wilt repent it.”
“Damsel,” said Beaumains, “your charge is to me a pleasure, and at your
commandment I will spare his life.”
Then the green knight knelt down and did homage to Beaumains, and after
that he conducted them both to his castle, for by this time it was dark
night. But even as before, the damsel would not suffer Beaumains to
sit at the same table with her, so the green knight sat with him at a
side-table. “I marvel,” said he to the damsel, “that you rebuke this
noble knight as you do, for I know no knight able to match him.”
“It is a shame,” she answered, “that you should say such worship of
him.”
“Truly,” quoth the green knight, “it would be shameful of me to say any
disworship of him, for he has proved himself a better knight than I am.”
On the morrow they rose early, and after they had broken their fast,
the green knight, with the thirty knights that served him, escorted them
through a perilous forest; and at parting he said that he and his thirty
knights would ever be at Sir Beau-mains’ command. So the knight and
damsel pursued their way; and still she chid him as sorely as ever, and
bade him flee, for they were coming to a place where he would otherwise
be put to shame. But of this Beaumains took no heed. And as they rode
they came to a great tower, with battlements, as white as snow, and over
its gate there hung fifty shields of different colours. By the tower
was a fair meadow, on which were standing many pavilions, and thereabout
were knights and squires, for on the next day there was appointed to be
a tournament at that castle. The lord of it was called the red knight,
because he went all in red Looking out of the window, he saw Sir
Beaumains where he rode with his damsel and his dwarf. “With that
knight,” said he, “will I joust, for I see that he is a knight-errant.”
So he armed him hastily, and mounted his horse; and when he drew near
Sir Beaumains, and saw his black armour, he thought it was his brother
the black knight, and said, “Brother, what do you in these marches?”
“Nay,” said the damsel; “this is not your brother, but an unhappy
kitchen-knave that hath overcome your brother, and taken his horse
and armour; and I saw him also overcome your other brother, the green
knight. Now you may be avenged upon him, for I cannot get quit of him.”
So without more words the two knights took their distance, and came
together with such force that both their horses fell to the earth. Then
they took to their swords, and fought sternly therewith for well-nigh
two hours. The damsel, who stood by and watched them, at last cried out,
“Alas, thou noble red knight, think what worship hath followed thee, and
let not a kitchen-knave endure before thee as this one doth.” Then the
red knight was wroth, and redoubled his strokes, hurting Beaumains so
sore that his blood ran down to the ground; but Beaumains answered him
full fiercely, and in a little while smote him to the earth. So the red
knight cried for mercy, and said, “Noble Knight, slay me not, and I will
yield to thee with fifty knights that be at my command.”
“This will avail thee naught,” said Beaumains, “unless my damsel pray me
to save thy life.” And he made semblance to strike off his head.
“Let be, thou Beaumains,” said the damsel; “slay him not, for he is a
noble knight.”
Then Beaumains bade the knight stand up and thank the damsel for his
life. And the red knight entertained them that night at his castle,
where they had merry cheer, except that the damsel still spoke many foul
words to Sir Beaumains. On the morrow, before they departed, the red
knight came with his fifty knights to proffer their homage to Sir
Beaumains, who thanked him courteously. And then he and the damsel rode
away together; and when she chid him again he said, “Damsel, you are
uncourteous to rebuke me as you do. I have done you great service; and
though ever you threaten me that I shall be beaten by the knights we
meet, yet hitherto they have all had to lie in the mire. When you see
me beaten, or yielding recreant, then may you bid me go from you
shamefully; but till then, I tell you plainly, I will not depart from
you, for I should be worse than a fool were I to leave you while I win
worship.”
Then was she somewhat abashed, but she said, “Well, right soon shalt
thou meet with a knight that will pay thee all thy wages, for he is the
man of most worship in the world, except Lancelot.”
“The more worship he has,” answered Beaumains, “the more worship will
it be to me to have to do with him.”
In a little while they came in sight of a fair city, and between them
and the city was a great meadow that was newly mown, whereon were many
pavilions. The damsel told Beaumains that the lord of that city was a
goodly knight called Sir Persaunt of Ind, whose custom it was in fair
weather to dwell in that meadow to joust and tourney, and that he had
ever about him five hundred knights and gentlemen. The damsel would have
had Beaumains avoid Sir Persaunt, lest he should get some hurt; for
they were now near the castle where the Bed Knight of the Bed Lands laid
siege to her lady, and Sir Persaunt, she said, though a strong knight,
was as nothing to him. But Beaumains answered her fairly and softly that
he should think it shame not to prove Sir Persaunt, now they had come so
near him. Then said the damsel, “I marvel what manner of man you be. You
must surely come of noble blood, for more foully or shamefully did lady
never rule or rebuke a knight than I have done to you, and yet you have
borne all patiently.”
“Damsel,” said Beaumains, “a knight is worth little that cannot endure
a woman’s tongue; but, in truth, the more you said the more you angered
me, and I wreaked my wrath on those with whom I had to do, so that all
your hard words only furthered me in my battles. As to my blood, though
it is true I had meat in King Arthur’s kitchen, yet if I had willed I
might have had meat elsewhere, and all I did there was but to prove my
friends.”
“Alas! fair Beaumains,” said she, “forgive me all that I have missaid
and misdone against you.”
“With all my heart,” answered Beaumains.
While thus they spoke together Sir Persaunt of Ind had seen them, and
he sent to know whether Beaumains came in war or in peace. “Say unto
thy lord,” said Beaumains, “that I care not; it is as he himself may
choose.”
“Then,” said Sir Persaunt, when this answer came to him, “will I have
ado with him to the uttermost.” So he armed himself, and rode toward
Beaumains. Then they met together so hard that both their spears were
broken, and their horses fell dead to the earth. So they drew their
swords, and fought for more than two hours, and both were sore wounded
and their armour cut in many places; but at the last Sir Beaumains smote
Sir Persaunt on the helm so that he fell grovelling to the ground,
and leaped upon him, and unlaced his helm to have slain him. Then Sir
Persaunt yielded, and cried for mercy, and the damsel came and asked
for his life, which Beaumains readily granted. Then said Sir Persaunt,
“Certes, Sir Knight, you must be he that slew my brother Sir Periard the
black knight, and conquered my other brothers, Sir Pertolope the green
knight and Sir Perimones the red knight. And now, sir, you shall have
homage and fealty of me, and a hundred knights to be always at your
command.”
So they went to Sir Persaunt’s pavilion, where they supped merrily
together, and afterwards retired to rest. When they had broken their
fast the next day, Sir Persaunt asked whither they were going. “Sir,”
said the damsel, “we are going to the siege of my sister at the Castle
Dangerous.”
“Ah,” said Sir Persaunt, “there is the Red Knight of the Red Lands,
who is the most perilous knight that I know, and a man that is without
mercy, and it is said he hath seven men’s strength. He doth great wrong
to the lady, and that is a pity, for she is one of the fairest in the
world. If thou art her sister, is not thy name Lynette?”
“Yes,” she said; “and my sister’s name is Dame Lyons.”
So they had more talk together, and under promise that they would not
reveal it, Sir Beaumains disclosed to them his real name and lineage.
Then the damsel Lynette sent word to Dame Lyons of her coming, and
how she had brought with her a knight that had passed all the perilous
passages; and when she heard how he had slain the two knights at the
ford, and the black knight, and had overthrown the green knight, the red
knight, and the blue knight, which was Sir Persaunt, she was very glad,
for she said that he must be one of the best knights of the world.
Therefore she sent rich food and wine to a hermitage that was near at
hand, and by the dwarf she sent a courteous message to Sir Beaumains.
This the dwarf bore, and as he was again returning to the castle, he met
with the Red Knight of the Red Lands, who asked him whence he came, and
where he had been.
“Sir,” said he, “I have been with the lady’s sister of this castle, and
she has been to King Arthur’s court, and has brought a knight with her.”
“Well,” said the knight, “though she had brought Sir Lancelot or Sir
Gawaine, I would think myself good enough for them.”
“It may well be,” said the dwarf; “but this knight has passed all the
perilous places;” and he told the red knight all that Beaumains had
done.
“Then,” said the red knight, “he is one of those I have named.”
“He is none of those,” answered the dwarf, “but he is a king’s son.
“What is his name?”
“That will I not tell you,” said the dwarf; “but Sir Kay in scorn called
him Beaumains.”
“I care not for him,” said the red knight. “What knight soever he be,
I shall soon deal with him; and if I win him, he shall have a shameful
death, as many others have had.”
“That were a pity,” said the dwarf, and so they parted.
That night Sir Beaumains and the damsel Lynette remained at the
hermitage. The next morning they took their horses, and rode through a
forest, and came to a plain, where they saw many pavilions and tents,
and beyond them a great castle. As they came near the siege, Beaumains
saw that upon great trees to the right and to the left hung by the necks
more than forty knights, with their shields and swords fastened about
them. Then Sir Beaumains abated his countenance, and said, “What is
this?”
“Fair sir,” said Lynette, “do not be discouraged by this sight. All
these knights came hither to this siege to rescue my sister; and when
the Red Knight of the Red Lands had overcome them, he put them to this
shameful death without mercy or pity, and in the same way will he serve
you, unless you prove yourself the better.”
“Jesu defend me,” cried Beaumains, “from such a villanous death! Rather
than I should fare thus, I would be slain in the battle.”
“You need not trust in him,” said the damsel, “for he hath no courtesy,
but all that he overcomes are shamefully murdered. And that is a great
pity, for he is a full likely man, and of great prowess, and hath wide
lands and possessions.”
“He may be a noble knight,” said Beaumains, “but he useth shameful
customs; and it is marvellous that none of the good knights of my lord
King Arthur have dealt with him before now.”
Now were they come to a tall sycamore tree, on which hung the greatest
horn they ever saw, made of elephant’s bone; and Lynette told Beaumains
that if he would meet the Red Knight of the Red Lands he must blow that
horn. “But, sir, I pray you,” she said, “blow it not till noon; for it
is now but prime, and it is said that his strength increases till at
noon he has seven men’s strength.”
“Fie for shame, fair damsel,” said Beaumains; “say no more as to that.
If he were the best knight that ever was, I would meet him in his most
might;” and with that he spurred his horse to the sycamore, and blew
the horn so eagerly that all the place rang with the noise. Then came
knights from the tents and pavilions to look, and they that were in the
castle looked from the walls. As for the red knight, he armed himself
hastily, and took a red spear in his hand, and rode out to a place where
all that were in the castle and at the siege might see the battle.
“Sir,” said Lynette to Beaumains, “now be merry, for yonder comes your
deadly enemy, and there is my sister;” and she showed him where Dame
Lyons was looking from a window in the castle.
“By my head,” said Beaumains, “she is the fairest lady that ever I
looked upon, and I ask nothing better than to do battle in her quarrel,
for she shall be my lady, and for her will I fight;” and as he looked
at her, Dame Lyons made him a courtesy. With that came the Red Knight of
the Red Lands, that called to Beaumains,--
“Leave thy looking, Sir Knight, and behold me; for I warn thee that is
my lady, and for her have I done many strong battles.”
“If thou hast,” answered Beaumains, “it seems to me it was but waste
labour, for she loveth thee not. If I were advised that she were not
glad of my coming, I would not do battle for her; but wit thou well,
Knight, that now I love her, and will rescue her, or else die in the
quarrel.”
“Say you so,” said the red knight. “Methinks you ought to beware, on
account of those knights that you see hanging on yonder great elms.”
“For shame,” answered Beaumains, “that you should ever say or do such
evil, in the which you shame yourself and the order of knighthood. Think
you that the sight of those hanged knights causes me to fear? Truly
it is not so: that shameful sight causes me to have more courage and
hardihood against you.”
“If thou be a well-ruled knight,” said the other, “make thou ready, and
talk no longer.”
So they dashed together with all the might they had, and smote each
other in the middle of the shield, so that their spears broke, and both
fell to the ground, where they lay for some time stunned; and all that
were watching said the strange knight must be a noble jouster, for never
before had the Red Knight of the Red Lands been so matched. Then they
drew their swords, and rushed at each other like fierce lions, dealing
great buffets, till they hewed large pieces from their shields and their
armour. And so they fought, hour after hour, till it was past noon,
and neither would stint, and then they rested awhile. When they went to
battle again, they fought more fiercely than ever, and dashed against
each other so hard that often both fell to the ground. Thus they endured
till eventide, and none could tell which was the likelier to win the
battle. Their armour was so hewn that in many places were they naked,
but ever they defended those places. The red knight was a wily fighter,
and his cunning taught Beaumains to be wise, but he bought his wisdom
full dearly. Then they agreed to rest again, and took off their helms
to catch the cool air. When Beaumains’ helm was off, he looked up at the
window and saw Dame Lyons, and she gave him such a look that his heart
was light and joyful. So suddenly he started up, and bade the red knight
make ready. “I am full willing,” said the red knight. So they got their
helms on again, and the stern combat began once more. But the red knight
smote Beaumains on the arm, so that his sword fell out of his hand, and
gave him thereafter such a buffet on the helm that he fell on the earth,
and the red knight fell over him to hold him down. Then cried the damsel
Lynette, “O Beaumains! where is thy courage? Alas! my sister beholds
thee, and sobs and weeps so that it makes my heart heavy.”
When Beaumains heard that, he rose with great might, and leaped lightly
to his sword, caught it in his hand, and rushed upon the red knight,
dealing his blows so thick and fast as to smite the sword out of his
hand. Then he hurled him to the ground, and unlaced his helm to slay
him.
Then the red knight yielded, and cried for mercy; but Beaumains thought
of the knights that had been so shamefully hanged, and answered, “I may
not with worship spare thy life, because of the shameful deaths thou
hast caused so many good knights to die.”
“Sir,” said the red knight, “hold your hand, and you shall know why I
put them to such a death.”
“Say on,” said Beaumains.
“Sir, I once loved a lady, and she had a brother slain. She said it
was by Sir Lancelot du Lake or Sir Gawaine, and she made me swear, as I
loved her, to labour daily in arms till I met one of them, and that all
I overcame I should put to a villanous death.”
Now there came many earls and barons and noble knights, and fell on
their knees before Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to give the red knight
his life.
“Fair lords,” said Beaumains, “I am full loath to slay this knight, for
though he has done very shamefully, it was all at at lady’s request, so
he is the less to be blamed. So I will release him upon this covenant,
that he shall go within the castle and yield there to my lady, and ask
her forgiveness. He must also make her amends for all the trespasses he
has done upon her lands. And when that is done, he must go to the court
of King Arthur, and crave pardon of Sir Lancelot du Lake and of Sir
Gawaine for the ill-will he has borne against them.”
“Sir,” said the Red Knight of the Red Lands, “all this will I do as
you command.” Then he and all his barons did homage and fealty to Sir
Beaumains. After that the damsel Lynette, who was a right skilled leech,
came and searched the wounds of both. For ten days they sojourned in the
tents, and when they were healed, the Red Knight of the Red Lands went
into the castle and made his peace with Dame Lyons, making amends to her
for all the wrong he had done her. After that he departed, and rode to
the court of King Arthur, where he craved pardon of Sir Lancelot and Sir
Gawaine, and told how he had been overcome, and of all Sir Beaumains’
battles.
“By my head,” said King Arthur, “I marvel much of what blood he hath
come, for he is a passing good knight.”
“Be assured,” said Lancelot, “that he is come of right noble blood; and
as for his might, there are few knights now living that are so good as
he.”
“From your manner of speech,” quoth the king, “you know his name, and of
what kin he is.”
“I suppose I do,” said Lancelot, “else would I not have given him the
order of knighthood; but he gave me at that time a charge that I should
not disclose it till he required me, or till otherwise it were openly
made known.”
In the meanwhile Beaumains, being whole of his wounds, greatly desired
to see his lady, Dame Lyons, so he armed himself, took his spear, and
rode to the castle; but when he came to the gate, he found it shut. He
marvelled why they would not suffer him to enter; and as he looked up at
the castle, he saw there the lady herself, who said to him,--
“Go thy way, Sir Beaumains, for as yet thou shalt not wholly have my
love till thou be called one of the number of worthy knights. Therefore
go and labour worshipfully in arms these twelve months, and then shalt
thou hear new tidings.”
“Ah, fair lady,” said Beaumains, “I have not deserved that you should
show me this strangeness. I thought to have had good cheer with you, and
sure am I that I have bought your love with part of the best blood in my
body.”
“Fair knight,” answered Dame Lyons, “be not displeased, nor over hasty,
but believe me that what I have ordered is for the best. A twelvemonth
will soon be over, and I promise you that I will not betray you, but
unto my death I will love you and none other.”
So Beaumains went away from the castle very sad at heart, for his love
for Dame Lyons was exceedingly great. He rode hither and thither without
heeding where he went, and his dwarf followed him. That night he lodged
at a poor man’s house, but could get no rest for thinking of his lady;
so the next day about noon he was very sleepy, and he lay down on the
grass with his head on his shield, bidding the dwarf watch his horse.
Now no sooner had he gone from the castle than Dame Lyons, who loved him
no less sorely than he her, began to repent her that she had sent him
away, and the next morning she sent for her brother, Sir Gringamor, that
was a good knight, and entreated him to follow Beaumains and watch an
opportunity to get his dwarf from him. And she asked him to carry the
dwarf to his own castle, whither she would herself go, and then they
might, by questioning the dwarf, learn who Beaumains really was. Sir
Gringamor undertook to do all as she desired; so he followed Beaumains,
and came where he was asleep, with the dwarf watching. Then suddenly he
came behind the dwarf, and carried him off in his arms to his castle;
but as they rode away, the dwarf cried out on his master. At this
Beaumains awoke, and saw Gringamor, whose armour was all black, carrying
away his dwarf. So he sprang up lightly, mounted his horse, and followed
as hard as he could; but he knew not the way, and so lost sight of him
that he pursued. However, as he rode he met a countryman, and asked him
whether he had not seen a knight in black armour, bearing a dwarf in his
arms.
“Sir,” said the man, “here passed by me a knight called Sir Gringamor,
with a dwarf that mourned and complained, and he went to his castle,
which is near by. But I counsel you to follow him not unless you owe him
good-will, for he is a very perilous knight.”
This counsel Beaumains regarded not, but rode toward the castle, whither
Gringamor had already come with the dwarf. There Dame Lyons and her
sister questioned him so sharply that he told them his master was the
son of King Lot and brother to Sir Gawaine, and that his name was Sir
Gareth of Orkney. At this Dame Lyons was greatly rejoiced. “Truly,
madam,” said Lynette, “he may well be a king’s son, for he is the most
courteous and long-suffering man I ever met. I dare say there was never
gentlewoman that reviled a man as I reviled him; and at all times he
gave me goodly and meek answers again.”
As they thus sat talking, there came Sir Gareth to the gate, with an
angry countenance and his drawn sword in his hand, and cried aloud,
“Thou traitor, Sir Gringamor, give me my dwarf, or, by the faith I owe
to the order of knighthood, I shall do you all the harm I can.”
Then Sir Gringamor looked out at a window, and said, “Sir Gareth of
Orkney, cease thy boasting words, for thou gettest not thy dwarf again.”
“Thou coward knight,” returned Sir Gareth, “bring him with thee and do
battle with me, and win him if you can.”
“So will I do if I choose,” answered Gringamor; “but for all thy angry
words, thou wilt not get him.”
“Ah, brother,” said Dame Lyons, “I would he had his dwarf again, for I
do not wish that he should be wroth. Know you that I love him before all
others; and now I wish you would bring him here within that I may speak
with him, but do not let him know who I am.”
So Gringamor went down to Sir Gareth, and said, “Sir, I cry you mercy,
and all that I have misdone against you I will amend at your pleasure.
Therefore, I beg you to alight and take such cheer as I can give you in
this castle.”
“But shall I have my dwarf again?” said Sir Gareth.
“Yea, sir,” answered Gringamor; “for as soon as your dwarf told me who
you were, and what noble deeds you had done in these marches, I repented
of what I had done.”
Then Sir Gareth alighted, and Gringamor led him into the castle. And
in the hall Dame Lyons met him, arrayed like a princess, and gave him
a hearty welcome. When Sir Gareth beheld her he was greatly struck with
her beauty, and said to himself, “Would that the lady of the Castle
Dangerous were as fair as she.” So ever his love grew hotter, and he
could not keep his eyes from her. This Sir Gringamor noted, and he took
his sister aside, and asked her whether she willed to marry Sir Gareth,
for his love for her was plain. And she answered that she loved him
better than any other man in the world, and deemed no better than to
have him for a husband. This told Gringamor to Sir Gareth, who was right
glad; and thereafter he went to Dame Lyons, and either made great joy
of the other. Then she told him she was the lady for whom he had done
battle, and also how she had caused her brother to take away his dwarf
that she might certainly know who he was. And she brought to him the
damsel Lynette. At this Sir Gareth was more glad than before, and they
were agreed to be married as soon as might be.
In the meanwhile, the Feast of Pentecost came round, and King Arthur
held his court at Camelot. Then came the green knight with thirty
knights, and they yielded to the king; and also the red knight with
fifty knights; and Sir Persaunt the blue knight with a hundred knights.
They all told King Arthur how they had been overcome by Sir Beaumains,
and had come to court at his bidding. There also came the Red Knight of
the Red Lands, that was named Sir Ironside, with five hundred knights.
And all of them could never say enough in praise of the might and
gentleness of Sir Beaumains. So the king and all his court went in to
their meat, and presently there entered the Queen of Orkney with a great
number of knights and ladies. She said to her brother King Arthur,
“What have you done with my young son Sir Gareth? He was here with you a
twelvemonth, and you made of him a kitchen-knave, which is a great shame
to you all. Alas! what hath become of my dear son, who was my joy and
bliss?”
“Oh, dear mother,” said Gawaine, “I knew him not.”
“Nor I,” said the king, “which I sorely repent. But, God be thanked, he
has proved himself a worshipful knight as any now living of his years,
and I shall not be glad till I find him.”
So they devised means to find him, and the king sent a messenger to Dame
Lyons to summon her to court. She sent word back that she would come as
soon as might be; and Sir Gareth advised her not to reveal where he was,
but to give her advice that the best way to find him would be to appoint
a tournament, at which the knight who was proved the best should take
her and her lands. Then Dame Lyons went to King Arthur, and was full
royally received. But always she would not tell where Sir Gareth was,
but said that she would hold a tournament at her castle, where her
knights should be against King Arthur’s, and then she was sure they
should hear of Sir Gareth.
So great preparations were made for the tournament, and Sir Gareth
summoned to Dame Lyons’ castle Sir Ironside and Sir Persaunt, and
the green and red knights with their following. Also many other noble
knights came to take part against King Arthur’s. Among them were Sir
Epinogris, son of the King of Northumberland, Sir Palomides the Saracen,
and his brothers Sir Safre and Sir Legwarides that were christened, Sir
Brian of the Isles, a noble knight, and Sir Grummore Grummorsum, a good
knight of Scotland. There came also Sir Tristram de Lyons--who by this
time was reckoned the best knight of the world after Sir Lancelot, but
was not yet a Knight of the Round Table--and many more. But there came
with King Arthur to the tournament most of the Knights of the Round
Table. There were Sir Gawaine and his brethren Sir Agravaine and Sir
Gaheris; Sir Tor, Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Lamoracke de Galis,
sons of King Pellinore, and all of them, especially the last, passing
good knights; Sir Lancelot, with all his kin; Sir Sagramour, Sir
Dinadan, King Anguisance of Ireland, King Carados of Scotland, King
Urience of Gore, King Bagdemagus and his son Sir Meleagans; and Sir
Galahaut the high prince, with other good knights whose names need not
be here given. And great provision was made in and about the castle for
the lodging of all the knights.
Now Sir Gareth begged all the knights that were on his side that they
should not make him known; and his lady, Dame Lyons, gave him a magical
ring, that had the virtue of changing the colours of him who wore it
every time he chose, and also the knight who wore it could lose no
blood. Of this ring Sir Gareth was very glad, because it would prevent
him from being known.
When the tournament began on the first day, there came from the castle
Sir Epinogris, and Sir Sagramour met him on King Arthur’s part, and
both broke their spears. Then Sir Palomides, a knight of the castle,
encountered Sir Gawaine, and both were overthrown. Then the knights on
either part rescued their fellows, and remounted them. And soon there
was a great concourse of knights. Sir Aglovale and Sir Tor, Knights of
the Round Table, smote down Sir Brian and Sir Grummore. Sir Tristram,
Sir Sadocke, and Sir Dinas, knights of the castle, encountered Sir
Bedivere, Sir Petipace, and Sir Ewaine. Sir Tristram overthrew Sir
Bedivere, but Sir Sadocke and Sir Dinas had the worse. Then came in
Sir Persaunt of Ind; but with him met Sir Lancelot, and smote him down,
horse and man. Sir Pertolope the green knight encountered Sir Lionel,
and smote him out of his saddle; and Sir Perimones the red knight ran
against Sir Ector de Maris in such wise that both were unhorsed. Then
came in Sir Ironside and Sir Gareth from the castle, and against them
were Sir Bors and Sir Bleoberis, cousins to Sir Lancelot. Sir Bors and
Sir Ironside struck each other so hard that both their spears broke and
their horses fell to the earth; but Sir Gareth overturned Sir Bleoberis,
and with the same spear he smote down Sir Galihodin, Sir Galihud, Sir
Dinadan, Sir Brewnor, and Sir Sagramour. When King Anguisance saw Sir
Gareth do this, he marvelled who it might be, for at every course Sir
Gareth changed his colours, and at one time he was in green, at another
in red, and again in blue. Then King Anguisance encountered Sir Gareth,
who smote him down, horse and man; and in the same wise he served
King Carados, King Urience, King Bagdemagus and his son Sir Meleagans.
Thereafter came in Sir Galahaut the high prince, who cried,--
“Knight of the many colours, well hast thou jousted; now make thee
ready, that I may joust with thee.”
When Sir Gareth heard that, he took a new spear, and the two ran
together. The prince broke his spear, but Sir Gareth smote him on the
left side so that he reeled in his saddle, and would have fallen had not
his men come round him and recovered him.
“So God me help,” said King Arthur, “that knight with the many colours
is a good knight;” and he prayed Sir Lancelot to joust with him. But Sir
Lancelot, who was ever courteous and noble, said that the knight had had
travail enough for that day, and ought to have the honour. “Though it
lay in my power to put him from it,” he said, “yet would I not do so.”
Then followed a great tournament with swords, wherein Sir Lancelot did
marvellously. Between Sir Lamoracke de Galis and Sir Ironside there was
a strong battle, and also between Sir Palomides and Sir Bleoberis. Sir
Gawaine encountered with Sir Tristram; but there he had the worse, for
Sir Tristram pulled him off his horse. Sir Lancelot encountered with two
strong knights of the castle at once, and fought right worshipfully with
both; but Sir Gareth came between and put them asunder, and would strike
no blow against Sir Lancelot, wherefore Sir Lancelot suspected who he
was. Shortly after, Sir Gareth met his brother Sir Gawaine, and unhorsed
him; and so he did to five or six other knights, so that all who beheld
said that he did better than any. Then Sir Tristram, who had seen how
well he had done, went to Sir Ironside and Sir Persaunt and asked them
who that knight was that went in so many different colours. So they
told him, and related the great deeds he had done when he rode with the
damsel Lynette.
“By my head,” said Sir Tristram, “he is a good knight and a big man of
arms; and if he be young, he will yet prove a full noble knight.”
So Sir Tristram, Sir Ironside, Sir Persaunt, and Sir Perimones rode
together to help Sir Gareth, who went on one side to repair his helm and
drink water. And he gave his dwarf his ring to hold while he drank, and
then forgot to get it again; of which the dwarf was glad, because he
desired that Sir Gareth should be known. So then Sir Gareth went always
in yellow colours, and King Arthur sent a herald to espy who he was. The
herald went close to him, and saw written round his helm, in letters of
gold, “This is Sir Gareth of Orkney.” So at King Arthur’s command all
the heralds proclaimed aloud that the knight in yellow colours was Sir
Gareth of Orkney. When Sir Gareth saw that he was known, he was wroth,
and redoubled his strokes, and he smote down his brother Sir Gawaine.
“O brother,” said Gawaine, “I thought not you would have stricken me.”
At that Sir Gareth got out of the press, and came to his dwarf, and took
his ring, and changed his colours again. But Gawaine saw where he had
ridden, and followed him. Thereupon Gareth rode far into the wood, so
that Gawaine knew not whither he had gone. Then Gareth sent back her
ring to his lady, Dame Lyons, and let her know that he would come to her
soon; and he rode forth, and had many perilous adventures. After three
days, he met with an armed knight whom he did not know, and they
fought fiercely together more than two hours, and hurt each other sore.
Presently there came riding the damsel Lynette, and she called out, “Sir
Gawaine, Sir Gawaine! leave fighting with thy brother Sir Gareth.”
Then they knew each other, and rejoiced greatly. And Lynette rode to
King Arthur, who was within two miles, and brought him and all his court
to the place. And the joy that King Arthur and Sir Lancelot had when
they saw Sir Gareth cannot be told.
[Illustration: 186]
In no long time after this were Dame Lyons and Sir Gareth married at
Kinkenadon, and at the same time the damsel Lynette was married to his
brother Sir Gaheris. Great was the splendour of the marriage, and there
was much rejoicing. A three days’ tournament was held; but Sir Gareth
and Sir Gaheris did not joust, because they were newly married. On the
first day, Sir Lamoracke de Galis overthrew thirty knights, and won the
prize; and on that day were Sir Persaunt of Ind and his two brethren
made Knights of the Round Table. On the second day Sir Tristram
overthrew forty knights, and won the prize; and then was Sir Ironside
made a Knight of the Round Table. On the third day Sir Lancelot du Lake
came in, and he overthrew fifty knights, so the prize was given to
him. But the feast was kept up for forty days, because King Arthur was
wishful to do honour to his nephew Sir Gareth.
And thus ends the story of the quest that was undertaken by. Sir Gareth,
who was always a good knight; for he was mighty in the field, and would
do nothing that was shameful, and was always courteous and gentle to
ladies.