OF ARTHUR.
THE Tournament of Lonazep was the last great gathering of the chivalry
of Britain. In no long time after, the good knight Sir Tristram was
slain by the crafts of his uncle and old enemy, King Marke of Cornwall.
As for the Knights of the Round Table, they were dispersed in the quest
of the Holy Grail; which was a vessel that had been brought to Britain
a long time before by Joseph of Arimathea with some of the blood of
our Lord therein, and had been left in charge of King Pellam, Joseph’s
descendant. Whoever could partake thereof was made whole of all wounds;
but it might not be seen except by a knight that was absolutely pure and
clean. Most of the Knights of the Round Table took part in the quest,
and some of them, especially Sir Lancelot, Sir Bors, and Sir Percival de
Galis, met with marvellous adventures in it; but it was achieved at last
by Sir Galahad, the son of Sir Lancelot by Elaine the daughter of King
Pellam. As soon as he had achieved the Grail he died, and thereupon the
sacred vessel disappeared from this world for ever. Of the other knights
that went in the quest, many perished; but afterwards the remnant
gathered again about King Arthur, and maintained the Round Table with
might, for Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawaine, and other good knights were still
left. And Sir Lancelot loved Queen Guenever more than before, and she
him; but it chanced that there came some disagreement between them,
and she bade him withdraw from the court. So he departed, and went to a
hermitage near Windsor, and none save his cousin Sir Bors knew whither
he had gone.
Soon afterward Queen Guenever gave a banquet to certain of the Knights
of the Round Table, and especially to Sir Gawaine. Now Sir Gawaine was
exceedingly fond of all kinds of fruit, and especially of apples and
pears, so of these the queen had made large provision. But a knight of
the court, named Sir Pinell, hated Sir Gawaine; for he was cousin to Sir
Lamoracke de Galis, whom Gawaine and his brethren had slain. With intent
to avenge him on Sir Gawaine, he put poison into some of the fairest of
the fruit; but it fell out that no one ate the apples he had poisoned
save a knight named Sir Patrice, cousin to Sir Mador de la Port; and as
soon as he had eaten, the poison was so strong that he died forthwith.
Then was there a great stir among all the knights at the table, for as
Queen Guenever had provided the banquet every one had suspicion of her;
and she herself was sore abashed, for she did not understand the matter.
But Sir Mador de la Port, who was one of the guests, rose up and accused
the queen of the death of Sir Patrice; and forasmuch as all the other
knights believed her to be guilty, none of them would take up the
quarrel on her behalf. Then Guenever burst into weeping, and at last she
fell down in a swoon.
News of the matter was soon brought to King Arthur, and he was sore
troubled; but being bound by the oaths of knighthood, he appointed a
day, fifteen days after that, on which Sir Mador was to be ready, armed,
in the meadow beside Winchester, to make good his accusation against
the queen; and if no knight appeared on her behalf, or if a knight did
appear and was vanquished, then should she be burned in that place. With
this Sir Mador was content, and departed. When King Arthur and the queen
were alone together, he asked her how the matter had come about.
“Sir,” said she, “as God me help, I know nothing of it.”
“Where is Sir Lancelot?” asked Arthur. “If he were here, he would
undertake the battle for you.”
“Sir,” said the queen sorrowfully, for well she knew that she had sent
him away from the court, “I cannot tell you where he is, but his kinsmen
believe that he is not within this realm.”
“Of that am I sorry,” said the king. “But I counsel you to go to Sir
Bors, and pray him to undertake the battle for you for Sir Lancelot’s
sake, and I dare affirm that he will not refuse you.” So the queen
went to Sir Bors, and entreated him as King Arthur had bidden her. “Ah,
madam,” said he, “I may not with any worship have to do in this matter;
for I was at the banquet, and if I undertake the battle on your behalf,
all the other knights my fellows will suspect me of guilt. Now stand you
in need of Sir Lancelot, who would not have failed you, whether in right
or wrong. I wonder how you can for very shame require anything of me,
after you have so discourteously treated that good knight my cousin.”
“Alas!” cried the queen, and she fell on her knees to Sir Bors, and
implored him to have mercy on her; “for,” said she, “if you will not, I
must die a shameful death, and I have not deserved it.” Just then came
King Arthur, and he also required Sir Bors to undertake the battle
for Sir Lancelot’s sake. So then Sir Bors consented to be the queen’s
champion, if on the appointed day a better knight than himself did not
undertake the battle. The king and queen were greatly comforted; but Sir
Bors straightway rode in secret to Sir Lancelot, and told him what had
happened. Said Lancelot: “This has happily come as I would have it. Do
you make you ready on the day fixed to do the battle, but delay as long
as you can till I come.”
This Sir Bors undertook; and on the day set, the king and all the court
were gathered in the meadow beside Winchester, where the battle was
appointed to be fought. The queen was brought into the place as a
prisoner, and there was an iron stake set up, so that if Sir Mador
had the better she should be burned forthwith, according to the king’s
judgment. Then came Sir Mador de la Port, and made oath before the King
that Queen Guenever had treasonably slain his cousin Sir Patrice; and
that he would maintain with his body against any one that should say
the contrary. Forthwith there entered Sir Bors, and he said that Queen
Guenever was innocent, and he would prove with his body that she was not
guilty of the treason charged against her.
“Then make thee ready,” said Sir Mador, “and we shall soon prove whether
thou or I be in the right.”
“Sir,” said Bors, “though I know you for a good knight, I have no doubt
that I can withstand you; but I have only undertaken to do this battle
if there come not a better knight than I and discharge me of it.”
“Thou must either meet me forthwith,” said Mador angrily, “or say nay
and withdraw.”
“Take your horse,” said Bors, “and you shall not have to wait long.”
Then both of them went to their tents, and made them ready; but Sir Bors
delayed as long as he could, till Sir Mador rode about the field crying
to the queen, “Bid your champion come forth if he dare.” Then was Sir
Bors ashamed, and took his horse, and came into the lists; but just then
he was aware of a strong knight that came fast out of a wood near by on
a white horse with a shield of strange device; and this knight requested
Sir Bors to retire and let him take the battle. Sir Bors knew well who
it was, and so willingly withdrew. Then the king asked the stranger
knight if he were willing to undertake the battle.
“Therefore,” said he, “came I hither; and it seems to me a shame and
dishonour to all you Knights of the Round Table that you should have
suffered so noble a lady and courteous a queen as Queen Guenever to be
rebuked and shamed among you.”
Then all the knights marvelled who the stranger could be; but Sir Mador
was impatient, and so he and the other encountered in the midst of the
lists, and Sir Mador’s spear broke, but Sir Lancelot’s held and bore Sir
Mador to the ground. Then he drew his sword and challenged the stranger
to fight him on foot; and quickly Sir Lancelot descended. So met they
foot to foot, and fought a great battle for more than an hour, for Sir
Mador was a passing good knight. But at the last Sir Lancelot smote
him down, and then he yielded, and withdrew his accusation against the
queen. So was she delivered; and then King Arthur prayed the stranger to
take off his helmet. This he did, and all present knew that it was Sir
Lancelot. Full joyfully was he greeted, especially by Queen Guenever,
who repented her sorely of her unkindness to him. Afterwards, through
the contrivance of the damsel of the lake, Nimue, it became known that
Sir Pinell had done the deed of which Queen Guenever had been accused,
and he fled to his own country; so then Sir Mador prayed the queen to
forgive him, and peace was made between them.
On the following Lady-day, King Arthur proclaimed a tournament at
Camelot; and thereto was a great gathering of knights from all parts,
though many of the best of those who had been at Lonazep were now dead.
Queen Guenever would not go, because she said she was sick; and at first
Sir Lancelot also excused himself, but the queen told him it were better
for him to go, lest there should be suspicion that he stayed behind for
her sake. So then he departed, but in ill-humour, and declared that he
would be against King Arthur and his fellowship. Now as Sir Lancelot
rode, he rested on his way at a castle which was named Astolat, and the
knight that dwelt there was called Sir Bernard. He entertained Lancelot
courteously, though he knew not his name, but saw by his manner and
his many scars that he was a great lord and a well-proved knight. Sir
Lancelot said to his host, “Sir, can you lend me a shield with a device
which is not known? I would go to the tournament disguised, and my
shield is too well known.”
Sir Bernard answered, “Sir, you shall have your desire, for you seem a
full likely knight. I have two sons, of whom the elder was hurt on the
same day he was made knight, so that never since has he been able to
ride. His shield shall you bear; and his brother, Sir Lavaine, shall
attend you in the field.”
At this Sir Lancelot was well pleased. Now the old knight had a daughter
that was exceedingly beautiful, so that she was called the Fair Maid of
Astolat; and when she saw Sir Lancelot she loved him exceedingly;
but his heart was ever set on Queen Guenever, and he returned not the
maiden’s love. Still, being courteous to all ladies, he was ever gentle
with her; and she was so emboldened that she entreated him to wear her
token at the tournament.
“Fair damsel,” said he, “if I grant you that, I shall have done more for
you than I did ever for any lady before.” Then he bethought him that
he did not wish to be known at the tournament, and that if he bore the
damsel’s token none would think it was he; so he granted her request.
And she brought him a sleeve of red cloth embroidered with pearls; and
he put it on his helm, and gave her his shield to keep for him till he
came again for it.
So Lancelot departed to the tournament, and there he did great deeds
against King Arthur’s knights, and he put back all the fellowship of the
Round Table; and Sir Lavaine supported him mightily. But by mischance
Sir Bors hurt Sir Lancelot sore with a spear, which went into his side
and broke, and the spearhead remained in the wound. Then the tournament
ended for the day; and because Sir Lancelot’s name was not known, the
prize was adjudicated to the knight who wore the red sleeve. But Sir
Lancelot suffered so sorely from his wound that he withdrew secretly
from the crowd with Sir Lavaine; and when they were come to a quiet
place he bade Sir Lavaine draw out the spear-head When that was done, he
bled so much that he swooned away; but at last he recovered so far as
to be able to ride to a hermitage near by, where the hermit tended him
carefully, and having in old days been himself a knight, he knew him for
Sir Lancelot. In the meantime, there was great grief with King Arthur
and the knights at Camelot that they could not find the knight with the
red sleeve, and all of them dispersed to seek for him. Now it chanced
that in the search Sir Gawaine lodged with Sir Bernard at Astolat, and
the damsel Elaine asked him how the tournament had gone. Then he told
her of the great exploits that had been achieved by the knight with the
red sleeve.
“Right thankful am I,” quoth Elaine, “that the good knight sped so well;
for he is the man that I first loved, and the only man that ever I shall
love.”
“Fair lady,” said Gawaine, “is that knight your love?”
“Certainly,” she answered, “he is my love.”
“Do you know his name?” asked Gawaine.
“I know not his name,” said Elaine, “for he would never tell it; but he
left here his shield in my keeping, and took my brother’s in its stead,
so that he might not be known.”
Then Gawaine asked to look at the shield; and when he saw it, he knew it
for Sir Lancelot’s. Then he marvelled, because before that time he had
never known Lancelot bear any lady’s token; and he told Elaine who the
knight was, and that he had been sore wounded. Thereupon she asked leave
of her father to go forth and seek him and her brother Sir Lavaine. But
Sir Gawaine went to London, and there openly he declared all that he had
learned concerning Lancelot and the maid of Astolat. Thereat was Queen
Guenever greatly angered, and she declared to Sir Bors that Lancelot was
a false traitor. But Sir Bors set forth to seek him.
In the meanwhile the damsel Elaine rode to Camelot, and there she saw
her brother Sir Lavaine that had come out to exercise his horse. So she
caused him to bring her to the hermitage where Sir Lancelot lay; and
when she saw him lying all pale and wasted on his bed, she swooned for
sorrow. When she came to herself, he comforted her, and asked her how
she came to know his name. And she told him how Sir Gawaine had seen his
shield. “Alas!” said Lancelot, “I repent sorely that my name is known,
for that will lead to trouble.” Then Elaine never left Lancelot, but
nursed him night and day. After a long while he was whole of his wound,
and made ready to depart. So Elaine said to him, “My lord Sir Lancelot,
as you are a fair and courteous knight, have mercy on me, and suffer me
not to die for your love.”
“What would you that I did?” asked Lancelot.
“I would have you for my husband,” she answered.
“Fair damsel,” said he, “I am purposed never to be married.”
“Then must I die for your love,” she said. He spoke to her full
tenderly, and promised, if she could give her love to another, to be his
good friend. But all was to no purpose; for after he had departed, she
never slept nor ate, and after ten days she felt that her days were
done, but still she spoke and thought only of Lancelot. The priest that
was with her bade her leave such thoughts. Then said she, “Why should I
leave such thoughts? Is it any sin to love a noble knight? I take God to
witness that I was never greater offender against his laws than that I
loved the noble knight Sir Lancelot out of all measure, whereof I have
my death.” And she had a letter written to Sir Lancelot, and requested
that when she was dead the letter might be put in her hand, and she be
laid in a fair bed with all the richest clothing she had about her; and
then that the bed should be laid in a barge covered with black, and sent
into the river Thames. All this was done, and the barge with the maid’s
body floated down the Thames to Westminster, where the court was at that
time. The king saw it floating on the river, and sent three knights to
find out what it might be. When they saw so fair a corpse lying in the
richest bed they had ever beheld, they caused the barge to be drawn to
the shore, and told the king; who came to it, and took the letter from
the dead maid’s hand. It set forth that she who writ it had died for
love of Sir Lancelot du Lake, and entreated the knight to pray for her
soul. At this Sir Lancelot was sorry, and the queen repented of all the
hard words she had said against him.
So Sir Lancelot was at that time the knight of by far the most worship
living. Whenever there was a jousting, and he might be there, he carried
away the palm; and he was ever ready to uphold the honour of King Arthur
and of his court against all comers. Therefore was he well cherished of
the King, while Queen Guenever loved him more and more, especially after
he rescued her from Sir Meleagans, the son of King Bagdemagus, who had
laid hold of her by treacherous means. But this same guilty love between
Lancelot and the queen now most unhappily was the cause of the total
destruction of the Round Table, and the end of Arthur’s glorious reign.
Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred had ever hated Sir Lancelot; and now,
against the will and counsel of Sir Gawaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir
Gareth, their brethren, they revealed the love of Lancelot and the queen
to King Arthur. The king was cut to the heart, for much he loved Sir
Lancelot, but he refused to believe that such wrong had been done unless
he had proof. This was obtained by the contrivances of Agravaine and
Mordred; but Lancelot slew Agravaine, and sorely wounded Mordred. Then
he gathered together all the knights of his kin, and all others
that would follow him, and prepared to rescue the queen, for she was
sentenced by King Arthur to be burned. Against this Sir Gawaine pleaded
earnestly, but in vain; but when the king bade him be one of those to
lead the queen to her execution, he openly refused; and though Gareth
and Gaheris consented to be there, they would not put on their armour.
Then the queen was led forth to her death, clad only in a single white
garment; but Sir Lancelot had word of it, and he and his company came
suddenly, and overpowered them that guarded her, and rescued her. By
ill-hap, Sir Lancelot slew Gaheris and Gareth, not knowing them; for
they had gone unarmed among those who were leading the queen to the
stake. Then he took Queen Guenever to his castle of Joyous Gard, and
made ready to defend her there.
When King Arthur heard how the queen had been rescued, and especially
of the death of Gaheris and Gareth, he was full of sorrow; but when Sir
Gawaine knew that his brethren had fallen by the hand of Sir Lancelot,
whom they had always loved, he well-nigh went out of his mind. Then he
took a great oath to be revenged against Sir Lancelot. And he and King
Arthur raised a large army, and besieged Joyous Gard. But it was a very
strong place, and well stored with provision, so that nothing could be
done against it. Then King Arthur and Gawaine, with many reproaches and
angry words, taunted Sir Lancelot to come out of the castle and meet
them in the open field. He was loath to do so, for he wished not to hurt
King Arthur or Gawaine; but at the last he consented, and there were
great battles fought outside the castle. Many times Sir Lancelot might
have slain the king, but he forbore him; but Sir Lancelot’s knights,
though not so many as those on the other side, were the most perilous
at that time living, and they did great execution against those of the
king. The rumour of this unhappy war spread all through Christendom; and
the Pope sent a bishop to King Arthur, charging him to make peace with
Sir Lancelot and take his queen again. So at last it was agreed that Sir
Lancelot should deliver up Queen Guenever, and no harm be done her; and
that Sir Lancelot should withdraw him to his realm beyond the sea. This
was done, and not only Sir Lancelot’s own kin but many more of the best
knights of Britain went with him to his own country of Benwick, where he
gave them lands and made ready for war.
In no long time King Arthur and Sir Gawaine followed after with a great
host, leaving the realm of Britain in keeping of the kings nephew, Sir
Mordred; and they besieged Sir Lancelot in his strong city of Benwick.
There Sir Gawaine came every day before the walls, and defied Sir
Lancelot to combat; and at the last Sir Lancelot met him in the field,
and after a long fight wounded him sorely on the head. As soon as
Gawaine was healed, he came forth and challenged Sir Lancelot again; and
again Sir Lancelot struck him down, but would not slay him. Before he
could be fully recovered from this second wound, there came news that
Sir Mordred had spread a report that King Arthur was slain in battle
against Sir Lancelot, and had seized the kingdom. Then Arthur and all
his host returned with what speed they might, and landed at Dover. There
Mordred met him with a great army; but in the battle King Arthur was
victorious, and Mordred fled. On that day Sir Gawaine received a mortal
wound, and then he repented that he had waged such bitter war against
Sir Lancelot: so he wrote him a letter, in which he begged his
forgiveness, and besought him to pray at his tomb; and he also requested
that Lancelot would come over and help King Arthur against the traitor
Mordred. Then Gawaine died, and King Arthur mourned over him, and caused
him to be buried in the chapel of Dover Castle.
It was now reported to the king that Sir Mordred had gathered a great
host at Barendown; and King Arthur went forward to meet him. There was
another great battle; but again King Arthur won the field, and Mordred
and his party fled toward Salisbury. The king followed him, and many
people flocked to his army; and he made ready to fight another battle on
Salisbury Plain. But while Arthur was in his camp, he dreamed one
night that Sir Gawaine came to him, and warned him not to fight against
Mordred the next day, for if he did he should have his death; but that
if he would treat with Mordred and delay for a month, then would come
over Sir Lancelot and his host, and put the traitor and his party
altogether to the worse. When the king woke, he took measures to treat
with Mordred; so it was agreed that the king and his false nephew should
meet between the two armies, with fourteen attendants each, to make the
treaty. So the armies were drawn out, and King Arthur warned his men
that if they saw any sword drawn or other sign of battle they should
come on fiercely, because he did not trust Mordred. But Mordred gave
a like warning to his men. While the two armies were standing face to
face, it befell that an adder crept out of a bush of heather, and
stung a knight on the foot. Forthwith he drew his sword to slay it,
and thought of no other harm; but immediately the two hosts advanced
fiercely against one another, and fought with all the greater fury
because each party thought that the other had designed treachery. King
Arthur rode at the head of his knights, and smote down on every hand,
and Mordred on his part fought better than he had done in all his life
before. At the last the king looked around him, and of all his host
there were none left but Sir Lucas and Sir Bedivere, while on the other
side there was none but Mordred himself, that stood leaning grimly on
his sword. When Arthur saw him, he took his spear in his hand, and ran
toward him, crying, “Traitor, now is thy death-day come.”
When Mordred heard that, he waited for King Arthur with his sword ready
in his hand; but the king avoided his blow, and thrust his spear clean
through his body. Then Mordred felt that he had his death-wound, and he
thrust himself up the spear, and smote King Arthur on the helm with his
sword, that it pierced to the brain-pan. Mordred fell stark dead, and
the king sank down in a swoon. But Sir Bedivere and Sir Lucas, though
both of them were sore wounded, contrived to bring him to a little
chapel by the seaside; and there Sir Lucas, that had sustained a mortal
wound, fell down and died at the king’s feet. Then Sir Bedivere wept for
Sir Lucas’ death, for he was his brother.
“Leave this weeping and mourning,” said King Arthur, “for it will not
avail. Now my time is full short; therefore take thou my good sword
Excalibur, and go to the water-side and throw it into the water.”
Then went Sir Bedivere with the sword; and as he looked upon it, and
saw how the pommel and haft were all ornamented with precious stones, he
thought it would be a pity that so noble a sword should be wasted So he
hid it under a bush, and came back to the king, and told him that he had
thrown the sword into the water.
“What sawest thou there?” asked the king.
“I saw nothing but the waves caused by the wind,” answered Bedivere.
“Thou hast said untruly,” said Arthur; “therefore as thou art true and
dear to me, go and obey my command.”
Sir Bedivere returned, and took the sword in his hand, but he could not
bring himself to throw it into the water. So once more he hid it, and
went back to the king, telling him that he had done according to his
bidding, but had seen nothing.
“Ah, traitor,” cried the king, “twice now hast thou betrayed me for the
rich sword; but go yet and do my bidding, and if thou doest it not, then
will I slay thee with mine own hands.”
So then Bedivere went and took the sword, and wrapped the belts about
the hilt, and flung it as far as he might into the sea; and lo! there
came a hand above the water, and caught the sword, and brandished it
thrice, and then vanished with it beneath the water. Then Bedivere
returned to the king and told him what he had seen.
“Alas!” said Arthur, “help me from hence, for I fear I have tarried over
long.”
Then Bedivere took the king on his back, and carried him to the
water-side; and there was a barge with many fair ladies in it, all
wearing black hoods. “Now put me into the barge,” said Arthur; and
Bedivere did so, and three queens received the king, with great mourning
and wailing, and one of them said,--
“Ah, my dear brother, why hast thou tarried so long?” Then the barge
went away, and Bedivere lost sight of it. So he departed, weeping and
wailing, and wandered all night in the forest. In the morning he found
himself by a hermitage and a chapel. When he went into the chapel, he
saw a hermit praying by a tomb newly made. “Sir,” said Bedivere, “what
man is there buried that you pray for?”
“My fair son,” answered the hermit, “I know not; but last night, about
midnight, there came here a great number of ladies which brought the
body of a knight, and they prayed me to bury him.”
“Alas!” cried Bedivere, “then it is my lord King Arthur that lies buried
in this chapel.” And he swooned by the side of the tomb. When he came
to himself, he vowed that henceforth he would abide with the hermit,
and become a holy man. Of the death of King Arthur, and whether he was
buried in that tomb, nothing more was certainly known; but many people
believed that he was not dead at all, but remained in the Isle of
Avallon, with the Lady of the Lake, and would yet come again to recover
his kingdom.
In the meanwhile Sir Lancelot heard of the treason of Mordred and the
death of Gawaine; and he received Gawaine’s letter, which made him very
doleful. So he gathered a great host, and came over into England, but
there he heard the evil news of Arthur’s death; and it was told him that
Queen Guenever had gone into a nunnery at Almesbury. Thither he went
and saw her; and they had a sad meeting, for she bade him an eternal
farewell, and told him he must never see her again, for she had
dedicated herself to the service of Heaven. And she bade him return to
his own kingdom, and rule it fitly, and take to himself a wife. But this
Sir Lancelot denied her; for he said that as she had become a nun, so
would he also take a religious habit. And this he did, at the same place
where was Sir Bedivere and the tomb of King Arthur; and with him abode
six knights of his kin, that also became hermits. Six years they dwelt
there in great piety and penitence. Then it was made known to Lancelot
in a vision that Guenever was dead at Almesbury; and he was bid to bring
her to Glastonbury, and bury her by the side of her lord. So the next
day he and his six fellows set out for Almesbury, and there they found
the queen dead; and they bore her body to Glastonbury, and buried her
with great solemnity in the same tomb as King Arthur. And from that time
forth Lancelot scarce ever ate or slept, but was always praying by the
tomb, so that in six weeks he also waxed very sick and died. He had
bidden his fellows to bury him at Joyous Gard, and thither he was borne;
and before he was laid in his grave, Sir Bors cried, weeping, “Ah,
Sir Lancelot, there thou liest, that wert never matched of any earthly
knight’s hands; and thou wert the courtliest knight that ever bare
shield; and thou wert the truest friend that ever bestrode horse; and
thou wert the truest lover that ever loved woman; and thou wert the
kindest man that ever struck with sword; and thou wert the goodliest
person that ever came among peers or knights; and thou wert the meekest
man, and the gentlest, that ever ate in hall among ladies; and thou wert
the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in rest.”
Such is the end of the history of King Arthur and his Knights of the
Round Table. After Arthur, his kinsman Constantine, the son of Sir Cador
of Cornwall, was chosen King of Britain, and full nobly and worshipfully
he ruled the realm. But of the goodly company of the Knights of the
Round Table there was no remnant left.
THE END.