KING ARTHUR was now firmly established in his kingdom. He ruled wisely and lived nobly, so that there was a great concourse about him of men of good condition, and in the island of Britain at that time were gathered the strongest and bravest knights of Christendom. To such of the Knights of the Round Table and others of his court as were of poor estate the king gave lands, that they might the better perform all that to which they were pledged by the oaths they took when they were made knights. Castles and fair towns arose in the land ; and knights were ever riding about, seeking adventures, of which there was no lack, for evil men who had gotten rich and strong in the stormy times of Vortigern and Uther Pendragon were still many, and ever they held themselves against King Arthur and his rule. There were also enchanters, and some of them used their supernatural powers for evil, who were fearful of his power and jealous of his greatness, entered into an alliance against him, and they led a great host into his lands, and burned, and slew, and plundered on every side. When King Arthur heard this news he was wrathful. He appointed King Pellinore to bring the main body of his army as soon as might be; and he himself, with Queen Guenever and such knights and men-at-arms as were at that time in the court, set out to meet the five kings, who were lying with their host in a wide forest near the river Humber. But it chanced that as King Arthur, with the queen, Sir Kay, Sir Gawaine, and Sir Griflet, was riding out by the river side, they met the five kings, that were also riding out without any following; and those four fell upon the five kings with such might that they killed them all. When the followers of the kings found them dead, they lost heart and courage, and would have fled; but Arthur and his little army came upon them, and slew so many that scarcely any escaped back to their own lands. So the war was ended before King Pellinore and the main host could come near the place. To show his thankfulness to God for this great victory, Arthur founded a rich abbey on the spot where the battle had been. Then he returned with his knights to Camelot, and again abode there in peace.
For some years the realm was at peace; but then it befell that Merlin came under the spell of Viviane, as it has been told in the first chapter of this book. When it was noised abroad that King Arthur had lost his best counsellor, five kings of the north and in the island of Britain at that time were gathered the strongest and bravest knights of Christendom. To such of the Knights of the Round Table and others of his court as were of poor estate the king gave lands, that they might the better perform all that to which they were pledged by the oaths they took when they were made knights. Castles and fair towns arose in the land; and knights were ever riding about, seeking adventures, of which there was no lack, for evil men who had gotten rich and strong in the stormy times of Vortigern and Uther Pen-dragon were still many, and ever they held themselves against King Arthur and his rule. There were also enchanters, and some of them used their supernatural powers for evil.
Of the king’s sisters by the mother’s side, the daughters of Queen Igraine, Arthur chiefly loved Morgan le Fay, who was the wife of Urience, King of Gore. She had learned necromancy from Merlin, and was scarcely less skilled in magic arts than he. But she hated King Arthur, and was ever watching to find an opportunity to destroy him. While Merlin was with him, she could do him no ill; but afterwards, because Arthur loved her and trusted her, he placed his sword Excalibur and the scabbard in her keeping, and then Morgan thought the time had come when she might accomplish his ruin. She loved not her husband, King Urience, who was a good knight and loyal to King Arthur, but she chiefly esteemed a knight named Sir Accolon of Gaul.
It befell that King Arthur, with many of his knights, one day rode out from Camelot to hunt in the forest. They followed a great hart; and King Arthur, King Urience, and Sir Accolon, being the best mounted, rode away from the others, and chased the hart so mightily that their horses fell dead under them. Then they did not know what to do, for they were a great way from Camelot, in the midst of the thick wood.
“Let us go on foot,” said King Urience, “till we come to some lodging.”
Before them lay a great water, and suddenly they saw upon it a little ship, all gilt, with sails of silk, and it was coming straight toward them, and ran on to the sands. King Arthur went near it, and looked in; but there was no living thing on board.
“Sirs,” said Arthur, “let us go into this ship, and see what there is in it.”
So they went on board, and found it full richly garnished, with a fair cabin all hung with doth of silk; and while they were gazing upon it, the ship suddenly left the land again, and went into the middle of the water. By this time it was dusk, and all at once there were a hundred torches about the sides of the ship that gave forth a great light. Then suddenly twelve beautiful damsels appeared, and they saluted King Arthur on their knees, calling him by his name, and bade him welcome, telling him he should have the best cheer they could give. They led the king and his two companions into the cabin, where was a table richly appointed with all kinds of meats and wines. King Arthur and King Urience and Sir Accolon fared sumptuously, for they were very hungry after the chase. When the supper was over, all three were sleepy, and the damsels conducted each to a sleeping chamber that was nobly arrayed, where they lay on soft pallets, and soon were buried in deep slumber.
When King Urience awoke, he found himself, to his great marvel, in the chamber of his wife Morgan le Fay at Camelot. How this could be he understood not, for when he had fallen asleep he had been full two days’ journey from Camelot. But Arthur did not fare so well, for when he awoke he discovered that he was in a dark prison, and heard all about him the groans and complaints of woful knights. Then he said,—
“Who are ye that thus complain?”
“We are,” answered one of them, “twenty good knights that are here prisoners. Some of us have lain here seven years, and even more, and some for less time.”
“For what cause?” asked King Arthur.
Then the knights told him that the lord of the castle was a rich baron named Sir Damas, who was one of the falsest knights alive, full of treason, and an arrant coward. He had a younger brother named Sir Ontzlake, who was a good and honourable knight, and a man of great prowess. But Sir Damas, by means of his riches and the men-at-arms he kept, had deprived Sir Ontzlake of much of his heritage, so that there was always a great warfare between them. Damas would never meet his brother in the field; and Ontzlake had offered to fight him, or any knight he could find in his stead, to settle their dispute in that fashion. But Damas would not fight himself, and he was everywhere so hated that he could get no knight to undertake his quarrel. So he lay ever in wait with his servants, and laid hold by treachery of every errant knight that came into his lands to seek adventures. Then he kept them in prison, till one of them should agree to fight Sir Ontzlake on his behalf; but thus far, not one had ever consented to do it.
When King Arthur heard this he was ill at ease; but he thought that he would rather undertake the battle, albeit it were in an unjust cause, than lie hungering in prison. As he sat there, a damsel came to him and asked him, “What cheer?”
“I cannot tell,” said King Arthur.
“Well,” she said, “if you will fight for my lord, you shall be delivered out of prison; but if not, you shall not escape hence all your life long.”
“It is a hard case,” answered Arthur. “But I would rather undertake the adventure than die in prison; so I will fight for thy lord, on condition that he will release all these knights as well as myself.”
This the damsel promised, and she said that he should also have horse and armour. When the king looked at her, it seemed to him that he had seen her before, and he asked her if she had not been in King Arthur’s court. She answered that she had never been there; but she spoke false, for she was one of the damsels that served Morgan le Fay. She knew Arthur well enough, and had come to that place at her mistress’s bidding, to contrive that he should undertake the battle on behalf of Sir Damas. Now she went to Sir Damas, and told him how she had found a knight for him. He sent for King Arthur, and saw that he was a strong man, well-made, and knightly in his carriage, and so was well content to have him for his champion. Then Arthur swore to Sir Damas to do his battle to the uttermost; and Damas straightway released all the knights that had been his prisoners. They, however, waited to see the battle.
Now we must tell of Sir Accolon of Gaul, the knight who had been in the ship with King Arthur and King Urience. When he awoke from his sleep, he found himself lying by the side of a beautiful fountain. Even while he yet wondered how he had been brought thither, there came to him a dwarf, who said, “Sir, I am sent hither by Queen Morgan le Fay, who greets you well, and bids you be strong of heart, for you are to fight to-morrow morning early with a knight. Therefore, I have brought you King Arthur’s sword Excalibur, and its scabbard; and Queen Morgan desires you, as you love her, to do the battle to the uttermost, as you promised her when she and you talked privately together.”
“I understand well what she means,” answered Accolon; “and now that I have the sword, I will make good what I promised.” So he sent loving messages to Queen Morgan; and he now knew that the enchantment of the ship, and the means whereby he had been transported to the side of the fountain, were of her contrivance. And now also by her means was Sir Accolon conducted to the manor of Sir Ontzlake, Damas’s brother, where he was well entertained. But Sir Ontzlake was lying on a couch; for, a little while before, he had been wounded through both thighs with a spear. Soon after Sir Accolon came to him, Sir Damas sent him word that he had found a knight to undertake his battle, and that’ Sir Ontzlake must be ready by the next morning. Sir Ontzlake wist not what to do, for he was so badly hurt that he could not stand on his feet; but his guest, Sir Accolon, when he knew what the matter was, offered to fight in his stead, as Morgan le Fay had sent him word to do; and Sir Ontzlake was very thankful, and sent word to Sir Damas that he would have a knight ready.
On the morrow King Arthur heard mass; and after that, he armed himself and mounted his horse, and went to the place appointed for the battle, where there was a great gathering of the gentle folk and commons of the country. While Arthur was waiting, there came to him a damsel from Morgan le Fay, and brought a sword and scabbard, like Excalibur and its scabbard, saying, “Morgan le Fay sends you here your sword for great love.” For this he was thankful; but both the sword and the scabbard were only counterfeit, brittle, and false.
Then Sir Accolon came into the field, and as both their vizors were down, neither of the knights knew the other. So they rode together with such force that both were unhorsed; and then they drew their swords, and fought on foot, giving each other many heavy strokes. But Sir Accolon wounded the king with almost every blow, and shed much of his blood; while he himself lost no blood at all, because he had the scabbard of Excalibur at his side. When King Arthur felt himself so wounded, and saw his own blood on the ground, he was dismayed, for he began to understand that the sword which he had could not be Excali-bur, and it seemed to him that the other knight’s sword was very like Excalibur. For all that he held himself full knightly, and defended himself so well that all the people there said they had never seen a knight fight better. However, with loss of blood he grew so feeble that he withdrew a little to rest. But Sir Accolon was bold because he knew that he had Excalibur, and he called out, “It is no time for me to suffer thee to rest.” Then he came fiercely on, and King Arthur met him and smote him so mightily on the helm that he nearly fell to the earth. But with that stroke Arthur’s sword broke at the cross, and left only the pommel and the handle in his hand.
When Accolon saw that, he said, “Knight, thou art weaponless, and may no longer endure. I am loath to slay thee, therefore yield thee as recreant.”
“Nay,” answered Arthur, “I may not yield, for I have sworn to do this battle to the uttermost. Moreover, I would rather die with honour than live with shame; and if you slay me, being weaponless, the shame will be with you.”
“For that I care not,” answered Accolon; and then he came fiercely on, and struck Arthur a blow that well-nigh sent him to the earth. But the king pressed against Accolon with his shield, and smote him with the pommel in his hand so that he went three strides back. Sir Accolon came on again all eagerly; but at the next stroke he gave, the sword Excalibur slipped from his hand and fell to the earth, and Arthur leaped to it and got it in his hand. Forthwith he perceived clearly that it was in truth his good sword Excalibur. “Ah!” he cried, “thou hast been too long from me, and much damage thou hast done me.” Then he suddenly sprang to Sir Accolon and snatched the scabbard from where it hung by his side, and threw it far away from him.
“Now, Knight,” said King Arthur, “you have done me much hurt with this sword, but ere we part I shall reward you with it as well as you have rewarded me.” So he rushed upon Accolon with all his might, and pulled him to the earth, took off his helmet, and smote him such a buffet on the head that the blood gushed out of his ears, nose, and mouth.
“Now will I slay thee,” said King Arthur.
“Slay me you may,” answered Accolon, “if it please you; for you are the best knight that ever I met, and I see well that God is with you. But I promised to fight this battle to the uttermost, and so I cannot yield to you.”
Then it seemed to King Arthur that he knew the knight, so he asked him his name.
“Sir,” answered Accolon, “I am of the court of King Arthur, and my name is Accolon of Gaul.”
At this Arthur was sore troubled, for he remembered that Accolon was favoured by his sister Morgan le Fay.
“Sir Knight,” said he, “I pray you tell me who gave you this sword.”
“Accursed be the sword,” answered Accolon, “for it has given me my death.” Then he confessed that the sword had been sent him by Morgan le Fay, with the intent that he should kill King Arthur with it; and that when that was accomplished she would compass the death of her husband King Urience, so that Accolon and she might be king and queen. When he had made this confession, Accolon asked Arthur who he was.
“O Sir Accolon,” answered the king, “now know thou that I am King Arthur, to whom thou hast done great damage.”
When Accolon heard this, he cried out, “My gracious lord, have mercy on me, for I knew you not!”
“Mercy shalt thou have,” answered Arthur, “for I believe thou didst not know me; but none the less hast thou plotted my death, and art therefore a traitor. Still I blame not thee so much as my sister Morgan le Fay; for she, by her false arts, has made thee agree and consent to her evil purposes. But I will be so avenged on her, if I live, that all Christendom shall hear of it.”
Then the keepers of the field and all who had watched the battle drew nigh, and Sir Accolon told them that the knight with whom he had done battle was none other than King Arthur. All the people knelt and made their submission to the king. He, on his part, ordered Sir Damas to give Sir Ontzlake his rightful inheritance, and charged him, on penalty of death, to atone to the knights he had kept in prison for the hurt he had done them, and never more to meddle with knights-errant that might come into his country. Sir Ontzlake he charged to come to his court, because he was a good knight, and promised him honour and advancement. Then the king and Sir Accolon were removed to a rich abbey of nuns a few miles away, where their wounds were dressed, and within four days King Arthur was healed; but Sir Accolon had lost so much blood that he might not be recovered. When he was dead, Arthur bade six of his knights bear his body to Morgan le Fay, and charged them to say that the king sent him to her for a present, and that he had got back his sword Excalibur and the scabbard.
When the tidings came to Morgan le Fay by one of her damsels that Accolon was dead, and that King Arthur had got back his sword and scabbard, she was full of sorrow and anger; so she got leave from Queen Guenever to return to her own country. As she and her attendants journeyed, they passed by the very abbey where King Arthur was still lying. Knowing that he was there, Morgan went into the abbey and asked where the king was. She was answered that he was asleep in his chamber; so she said she would go in and wake him herself. As she was his sister, and a queen, none dare say her nay; so she went into the chamber, intending to steal from him Excalibur. But the king, though he was asleep, had the sword fast in his right hand, so she could not get it. However, she took the scabbard, and then went on her way. When the king woke and missed the scabbard, he was passing wroth, and still more so when he knew who had taken it. So he and Sir Ontzlake armed themselves hastily, and rode after Queen Morgan, and after a while they came in sight of her. When she saw that King Arthur was pursuing, she rode as fast as she could; but ever he drew nearer and nearer. Then she went to the shore of a lake that was there, and threw the scabbard into it, saying, “Whatever may become of me, my brother shall not have the scabbard.” After that she rode with her knights into a valley, and there by her enchantments turned herself and them into marble statues.
When King Arthur and Ontzlake came up, they saw the statues, and thought the change had been wrought by a judgment of God. They could not find the scabbard, and so rode back to the abbey. As soon as they were gone, Morgan and her knights returned to flesh and blood, and went on their way to the country of Gore. There Morgan made her castles strong, and garrisoned them, for she greatly dreaded her brother’s wrath. But she sent him word that, while she could change herself and her men into the likeness of stones, she had no cause to fear him.
However, though Accolon was dead, Morgan abated no whit of her hatred to the king, nor of her evil designs against him. But she pretended to be sorrowful because of her deeds, and offered him amends. And she sent a damsel to the court with a mantle, the richest that ever was seen in the world, for it was so covered with precious stones that there was not space to put on another. The damsel said to the king, “Your sister sends you this mantle, and desires that you will take this gift of her; and in what she has offended you, she will amend it at your own pleasure.”
The king was greatly pleased with the mantle, but he did not put much trust in his sister. While he was considering what he should say, there came to him the Lady Viviane, who had ever loved him, and she counselled him on no account to put on the mantle, or let it be worn by any in his court, until it had been put on by the damsel who had brought it. King Arthur said he would follow her counsel, and so he called the damsel to him, and bade her put on the mantle.
“Sir,” said she, “it will not beseem me to wear a knight’s garment.”
“By my head,” answered the king, “you shall wear it before it come on my back or that of any other that is here.”
When she saw that no better might be, the damsel put on the mantle full sorrowfully; and lo! straightway she fell down dead, and was burned to ashes. Then King Arthur saw how great was the treason of his sister Morgan le Fay.
KING ARTHUR was exceedingly wrathful against his sister Morgan le Fay, and because he suspected that her son, Sir Ewaine, was aware of her plots, he banished him from the court. In this he was wrong, for Sir Ewaine ever held by his father and King Arthur, and hated his mother’s treachery. When Sir Gawaine heard that his cousin Ewaine was to be banished, he made ready to go with him, for he said, “Whoso banisheth my cousin, banisheth me also.”
So the two set out together, and they rode till they came to a great forest, and presently they saw a tower in a valley. By the tower were two knights, armed and on horseback, and twelve fair damsels, who kept going to and fro by a tree. Gawaine and Ewaine went nearer, and then they saw that the damsels were throwing mire on a white shield that was hanging on the tree “Wherefore do you thus offer despite to the shield?” said Ewaine.
“Sirs,” answered one of the damsels, “there is a knight in this country that is the owner of this shield, and he is a very good knight of his hands, but he hates all ladies and gentlewomen, and therefore do we defile his shield. His name is Sir Marhaus, and he is brother to the wife of King Anguisance of Ireland.”
“I know him well,” said Sir Ewaine; “he is one of the best knights living.”
While they spoke, they saw Sir Marhaus riding toward them. Then all the damsels fled into the tower; but one of the knights of the tower put his spear in rest, and cried aloud, “Sir Marhaus, defend thee.” Then they ran together, and Sir Marhaus smote that knight so hard that he hurled him from his horse and broke his neck. Thereupon the other knight of the tower came on, and him also Sir Marhaus overthrew. After that he took down the white shield from the tree and put in its place the one he had carried before. Then he rode up to Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine, and asked them what they did there. They answered that they came from King Arthur’s court to seek adventures.
“Well,” said Marhaus, “here am I ready to fulfil any adventure that you require of me;” and he rode back a little way, to get space to run a course with them. Sir Ewaine did not wish that they should joust with him, but Gawaine said they should be shamed if they did not assay him. Then said Ewaine, “I will meet him first, for I am weaker than you; and if he smite me down, then you may perchance avenge me.”
So Sir Marhaus and Sir Ewaine came together, and Sir Marhaus smote down Ewaine, horse and man, and hurt him in the side. Then he turned to Gawaine, who met him fiercely, but when they came together Gawaine’s spear broke, and Sir Marhaus overthrew him also. Sir Gawaine sprang lightly to his feet, and drew his sword, bidding Sir Marhaus alight, or he would slay his horse. Marhaus dismounted, and tied his horse to a tree; then he also pulled out his sword, and they fought eagerly together, giving each other many sore strokes. As it was after nine o’clock in the morning, Gawaine’s strength ever increased, and Sir Marhaus marvelled at it. But he was a knight of great prowess, and he withstood Sir Gawaine mightily. At noon they were still fighting, and then Gawaine began to grow more feeble, till at last he could no longer endure.
“Sir,” said Marhaus, “I have well felt that you are a passing good knight, and a man of marvellous might as ever I met. Our quarrel is not so great that it need be fought to the death, and I should be loath to do you hurt, for I perceive you are very feeble.”
“Ah, gentle knight,” said Gawaine, “you are more courteous than I.”
Then they took off their helmets, and kissed one another, and swore that they would henceforth be as brethren. Then Marhaus asked Gawaine and Ewaine to lodge with him that night, and he took them to a good lodging he had near by. As they rode, Gawaine asked him why, being so valiant a knight, he hated all ladies. But Sir Marhaus said he did not hate all, but only the damsels of the tower, and such as they, who were nothing but witches and enchantresses. The two knights lodged with him for a week, till their wounds were well healed; but when he knew that they were King Arthur’s nephews, he gave them the best entertainment he could. When they were whole again, he said he would ride with them through the forest. So the three travelled for seven days, till they came to a country that was called Arroy, which was always full of strange adventures. And as they were riding along, they came to a fair fountain, at the side of which sat three damsels. One was threescore years of age, and the second thirty, and the third but fifteen years of age. The knights saluted them, and asked them why they were sitting there.
“We are here,” said the eldest damsel, “to show strange adventures to errant knights. As ye are seeking adventures, each of you must choose one of us, and go forth by a separate way; and this day twelvemonth we will all meet here again to tell our adventures.”
To this the knights assented; and Sir Ewaine, because he was the youngest and the least experienced, chose the eldest damsel. Sir Marhaus took the second, as her age was the most fitting to his; so the youngest and fairest was left to Gawaine, of which he was well pleased. Then each knight took his damsel, and Sir Ewaine took a way that went west, and Sir Marhaus a way that went south, and Sir Gawaine went north. As he and his damsel rode, they came to a cross by the wayside, and while they were there a knight passed them, the fairest and comeliest they had ever seen, making great moan and sorrow. He saluted Gawaine courteously and wished him much worship, and Gawaine returned him the like wish.
“Alas!” answered the knight, “that may not be for me.”
Then, as he went on, there came against him ten knights, one after the other, and he smote them all down with one spear. When they were all on foot, they went to him, and he sat still as a stone, and suffered them to pull him off his horse, bind him hand and foot, tie him under his horse’s belly, and so lead him away.
“Surely,” said Gawaine, “that is a doleful sight, to see that knight so treated.”
“Sir,” said his damsel, “it would be to your worship and honour to help that dolorous knight, for he is one of the best knights that ever I saw.”
“I would be glad to help him,” answered Sir Gawaine, “but it seems to me that he would not have my help.”
But the damsel said sharply, “It seems to me that you have no heart to help him.” And she was wroth with Gawaine. While they talked there came two knights armed at all points, one of whom cried out, “Sir Gawaine, knight of King Arthur, make thou ready to joust with me.” So they ran together so mightily that both were overthrown. Then they drew their swords and fought hard together. In the meanwhile, the other knight came to Gawaine’s damsel, and asked her to abide with him, promising to be her faithful knight. She said she would go with him, for she liked not Sir Gawaine, because he would not strive for the knight that was led away by the ten knights he had overthrown. So while Gawaine was fighting, the damsel went away with her new companion.
Gawaine and the other knight fought together a long time, and then they agreed together, and the knight took Gawaine to his manor that was near by. As they went, Gawaine asked what knight that was who smote down the ten knights, and afterwards suffered himself to be so shamefully led away.
“Ah,” said the other, “that is the best knight I ever saw, and I do not believe there is a better in the world. His name is Sir Pelles, and he loves a great lady in this country that is called Ettarde. He first beheld her at a tournament which was held near this place, at which were many ladies and five hundred knights. He who proved to be the best knight was to have a good sword, and a circlet of gold to give to the lady present at the tournament whom he held to be the fairest. Sir Pelles was by far the best that was there; no man could withstand him, and each of the three days the tournament lasted he struck down more than twenty knights. So he won the prize, and forthwith he laid the circlet at the feet of the Lady Ettarde, and said openly that she was the fairest, and he would prove it on the body of any knight that gainsaid him. So he chose her for his sovereign lady, and loved her exceedingly. But she is very proud, and she made scorn of Sir Pelles, and said she would never love him. But he followed her to her own manor, and now he is lodged at a priory near her. Every day she sends knights to fight with him; but he always puts them to the worse, and then suffers them to take him prisoner and lead him to her unworthily, because in no other way can he gain a sight of his lady-love.”
When Gawaine heard this, he was full sorry for the knight Sir Pelles, and said that the next day he would seek him, and offer him what help he could. In the morning he took leave of his host, and sought Sir Pelles, whom he found sorrowing in the forest. Then had they much talk together, and Sir Pelles told Gawaine all that the other knight had told him the day before.
“Now,” said Sir Gawaine, “leave off your mourning, and I promise you by the faith of my body that I will do all that lies in my power to get you the love of your lady.”
“Ah, my good friend,” said Pelles, “I pray you tell me who you are.”
This Gawaine told him, and Sir Pelles entreated him to do as he had promised, and not to betray him. To that Gawaine made oath; and then said he would take Pelles’s horse and armour, and ride to the Lady Ettarde, saying he had slain Pelles. In this way he would gain access to her, and would then strive all he could to win her love for his friend. So they changed horses and armour, and Gawaine rode to Ettarde’s castle. When he told her that he had slain Pelles, she received him cordially, the more when he told her his name, and that he was King Arthurs nephew. She said it was a pity that Pelles was slain, for he was a good knight, but that while he lived she could never have peace; so she entertained Gawaine with the best cheer she had.
Now the Lady Ettarde was exceedingly fair, and when Gawaine saw her he loved her sorely, so that he no longer heeded the oath he had sworn to Sir Pelles, but wooed the lady for himself, and she was gracious to him. They lived together in a pavilion outside the castle, for Ettarde no longer feared Pelles, thinking that he was dead. For three days and nights they stayed there; and then Sir Pelles, who had been waiting for Gawaine at his lodging, could endure no longer, but armed himself, and mounted his horse and rode to the castle. When he came to the pavilion, both Gawaine and the lady were asleep; and when Pelles saw them, his heart was like to burst for grief, and also because Gawaine had betrayed him and forsworn himself. At first he thought to slay them, and drew his sword; but he could not bring himself to slay them sleeping, so he laid his naked sword across the lady’s throat, and rode away making great sorrow. When Ettarde woke and saw the naked sword at her throat, she knew it was Pelless, and then she perceived that Gawaine had betrayed her. She gave him many reproaches, and Gawaine could say nothing for himself, but armed himself and rode away into the forest, well knowing that he had stained his knightly honour.
But one of the damsels of the lake, named Nimue, met a knight of Sir Pelles in the forest, and learned all that had passed, and also that Pelles was lying in his bed, dying out of pure sorrow because he had been betrayed. So she undertook to heal him, and the knight brought her to Sir Pelles, and by her enchantments she wrought so that he loved Ettarde no longer. Also, she brought Ettarde to him, and made her love him out of measure. When Pelles awoke and saw Ettarde, all the love had gone out of his heart, and he hated her more than any woman alive, and said, “Go thy way hence, thou traitress; come no more in my sight.” So she wept bitterly, and implored him for his love; but he would have nothing to do with her, and gave his love to the Lady Nimue, who loved him faithfully in return. And afterwards Ettarde died of grief, but Pelles lived happily with the lady of the lake.
Of what befell Sir Gawaine after this till the year was out no mention is made in the old chronicles.
Sir Marhaus, it will be remembered, went with the damsel of thirty years by a way that led south. The road took them into a thick forest, and when night fell they knew not where they were. At last they came to a small lodge in the wood, but the man that dwelt there would not give them shelter at any price. At last he said, “If you will take the adventure of your lodging, I will bring you where you will be lodged.”
“What is the adventure?” asked Sir Marhaus.
“That you will know when you come to the place,” answered the other.
“Whatever it may be, do thou show us the place,” said the knight; “for my lady and I and my horse are all weary, and rest we must have.”
Then the man took them a little way farther to a fair castle, and he called the porter, and bid him tell his lord that a knight-errant and a fair damsel were waiting without, and would lodge with him. “Let them come in,” answered the lord, “but it may happen that they will repent it.” So then Sir Marhaus and his damsel were shown into a great hall, where the lord of the castle was, with many young men about him. The lord asked Sir Marhaus who he was and whence he came.
“Sir,” said Marhaus, “I am a knight of King Arthur’s, and I was born in Ireland.”
“That will be the worse for thee,” answered the other grimly, “for I love not thy lord nor the company of the Round Table. Make what cheer thou canst to-night, for to-morrow thou wilt have to meet me and my six sons.”
“Is there no other choice but that I must have to do with you and your six sons all at once?” asked Sir Marhaus.
“No,” answered the lord; “and for this reason, that Sir Gawaine once slew seven of my sons in an encounter, and I vowed to have my revenge on any knight of King Arthur’s that might come into my power.”
Then Sir Marhaus asked him his name, and he said he was called the Duke of the South Marches. “Ah,” said Sir Marhaus, “I have heard of you ere this as a great foe to King Arthur and all his knights.”
“That shall you feel to-morrow,” said the duke.
So that night Sir Marhaus and his damsel were well lodged, and the next morning the knight armed himself, and met the duke and his six sons in the courtyard of the castle. He let them all break a spear upon him, and never moved; and then with one spear he smote them all from their saddles. Then he went to the duke, and called on him to yield; but some of the sons began to recover themselves, and would have set upon Sir Marhaus. “Bid your sons stand back,” said Sir Marhaus to the duke, “or I will do the uttermost to you all.” So when the duke saw that otherwise he could not escape death, he yielded, and bade his sons do the like. And Sir Marhaus bound them all never more to be foes to King Arthur or his knights, and at the next Feast of Pentecost to present themselves at the court and make submission to the king.
After that Sir Marhaus departed, and two days afterwards his damsel brought him to a place where a great tournament was held. The prize for the best knight was a circlet of gold worth a thousand byzants. At this tournament Sir Marhaus did right nobly, and smote down forty knights, so the prize was awarded to him. Then he and his damsel again rode forth, and after a long journey they reached the castle of a rich earl named Fergus. Near by there dwelt a giant called Taulurd, who wrought much evil against the earl and wasted his lands, and Fergus complained of him to Sir Marhaus.
“Does he fight on foot or on horseback?” asked the knight.
“On foot,” answered Earl Fergus, “for he is so large that no horse could bear him.”
“Then will I fight him on foot,” answered Marhaus. And the next day he went to seek for the giant, and found him sitting under a tree, with great clubs of iron lying about him. When the giant saw Marhaus coming he sprang up, seized a club, and rushed against him. His first blow was so mighty that it crushed Marhaus’s shield to pieces; and thereafter the knight was in great peril, for the giant was both strong and a wily fighter. At last, however, Sir Marhaus smote off his right arm above the elbow; and then he fled away, and ran into a pool of water that was so deep the knight could not follow him. Then Marhaus made the earl’s men bring him heavy stones, and with these he pelted the giant till he knocked him down in the water and drowned him. Then Sir Marhaus went to the giant’s castle, where he found many knights and ladies, whom he delivered, and so much riches that he was never afterwards in need of wealth to the end of his life.
Sir Marhaus dwelt a long time with the Earl Fergus to recover from his wounds, for he had been sorely bruised by the giant. When he was whole, he and his damsel set out, and reached the fountain that was their trysting-place on the appointed day.
Sir Ewaine, who had ridden westward with his damsel of threescore years, went first to a tournament that was held in a place near the marches of Wales. There he did great deeds, and smote down thirty knights, so that he took the prize, which was a gerfalcon and a white steed with trappings of cloth of gold. After that his damsel brought him to the castle of a great lady in that country, called the Lady of the Rock. Now there were two perilous knights that dwelt nigh the Lady of the Rock, named Sir Edward and Sir Hue of the Red Castle, and they had despoiled the lady of much of her lands. So she complained to Sir Ewaine; and he blamed the knights that they had done that which was contrary to their oaths. He said he would first entreat them to restore to her that which was her right; and if they were not to be persuaded, then he would do battle with them. The knights were sent for accordingly, and they came to the castle with a hundred horsemen. But they cared nothing for Sir Ewaine’s reproaches, and said they would keep what they had.
“Well,” said Sir Ewaine, “then will I fight with either of you, and prove upon his body that you do wrong to this lady.”
“That we will not assent to,” answered the brothers, “for if we do battle, we will both fight with one knight at once; and if thou wilt meet us both, and can conquer us, the lady shall have her lands again.”
To that Sir Ewaine agreed, and the battle was appointed for the next day. When the knights met, both Sir Edward and Sir Hue broke their spears on Sir Ewaine without unhorsing him; but he smote them both down, the one after the other. Then he alighted on foot, and fought them with his sword. They gave him many sore wounds, but at last he struck Sir Edward so hard on the helm that he clove his head to the shoulders, and then he forced Sir Hue to yield. So the lady was restored to her lands, and Sir Hue was sworn to make his submission to King Arthur at the ensuing Feast of Pentecost. But in this battle Sir Ewaine was so much hurt that he could undertake no other adventure before the time appointed for the three knights and the damsels to meet at the fountain.
But on that day all the knights were there, and all the damsels, only Sir Gawaine did not bring his damsel, nor had she much worship to say of him. Then the knights bade farewell to the ladies, and rode again into the forest; but they were met by messengers from King Arthur commanding them to return to the court. When they came there, the king and all else made them heartily welcome, and they were sworn to tell all their adventures. At the Feast of Pentecost came the Lady Nimue, and brought with her Sir Pelles; and King Arthur held a great tournament, where Sir Pelles won the first prize, and Sir Marhaus the second, so they were both made Knights of the Round Table in room of two that had been slain during the twelvemonth. King Arthur was glad that he had got two such good knights; but Sir Pelles never afterwards loved Sir Gawaine, and though he spared him for the king’s sake, ofttimes he overthrew him at jousts and tournaments. And Sir Pelles was ever a knight of great worship; for when Sir Lancelot grew to be the knight of most prowess, the Lady Nimue so contrived that Sir Pelles never had to do with him, and she would not suffer him to be at any tournament where Sir Lancelot was, unless it were to fight on the same side.
IT will be remembered that King Ban of Benwick and King Bors of Gannes had given right good help to King Arthur when he was fighting for his kingdom. Afterwards they went back to their own country, and carried on their wars against King Claudas of Gaul; but he, having wide lands and many knights at his command, ever put them to the worse, and despoiled them of their territory before Arthur could come or send to help them. So it befell that they both died of grief—King Ban leaving behind him one son, who was named Lancelot, and two younger, called Lionel and Ector de Maris; while King Bors left three sons, named Bleoberis, Blamor, and Bors. After the two kings were dead, Arthur, being eased from his wars at home, sent over to Gaul knights and men-at-arms that beat back King Claudas, and recovered from him the lands of Benwick and of Gannes. Arthur also took charge of the sons of the two dead kings, all save Lancelot, and had them trained in all manner of knightly exercises, so that when they grew to manhood they were all men of great might and valour, and they became Knights of the Round Table. But Lancelot fell to the charge of Viviane the enchantress, who was known as the Lady of the Lake, so that afterwards he got the name of Lancelot du Lake. She nourished and reared him till he was eighteen years of age, and then brought him to the court to receive knighthood at the hands of King Arthur. Even then few knights could withstand him, so strong was he, and so skilled with sword and spear; and when he grew to his full prowess and manhood, he passed all the other knights that ever were in Arthur’s court, or in the whole world, so that never was he put to the worse altogether. King Arthur had great joy of Sir Lancelot. But his coming to the court was not in the end for the king’s worship, for he grew to love Queen Guenever, and to care for no other lady; and she, since he was not less comely than valiant, loved him also, and forgot her duty to her lord and king, from which cause at the last there arose great sorrow.
Just after Lancelot came to the court, King Arthur had a great war with the Emperor of the Romans. This emperor, whose name was Lucius, had sent ambassadors to Britain demanding tribute, with many haughty threats if it were not given. At this the king was wrathful, and returned for answer that he owed no tribute, nor would pay any, but that he claimed the empire as successor to Constantine, and would shortly come to take possession of it. Accordingly, he went over sea with a great army and most of his knights, leaving the kingdom in charge of Sir Baldwin and his cousin and next heir Sir Constantine. When he came to Brittany, the king heard of a monstrous giant that lived in a mount there and ravaged all the country, feeding on the flesh of men and children; and Arthur sought out this giant, and after a terrible fight he slew him. Then he and his knights had many-great battles with the mighty armies that had been gathered by the Emperor Lucius, in the which there were many fierce heathen and giants. But always the Britons put their enemies to the worse, and killed thousands of them; and at the last Lucius himself was slain, and Arthur marched to Rome, where, with much pomp and solemnity, he was crowned emperor. Then he came back with his knights to Britain, where the queen and all the people received him with great joy.
In this war Sir Lancelot, though yet but a young knight, did great service; but afterwards, when the knights began again their joustings and tournaments, and sought adventures over Britain, his worship increased marvellously, so that most other knights began to hold him in dread. It happened that one time, after he had long rested him from knightly sports, he went to his brother Sir Lionel, and bade him make ready, for they two would seek adventures. So they armed, mounted their horses, and set forth.
The day was very hot, and Sir Lancelot had a strong desire to sleep; so he lay down under an apple-tree, and fell into a deep slumber. Sir Lionel watched the while; and as he was so sitting, he saw three knights come riding as fast as they were able, and behind them there followed only a single knight. But Lionel thought he had never beheld one that seemed so mighty. Within a little he overtook all the three knights that fled, and smote them down, one after another; then he bound them all fast with the bridles of their own horses, and led them away. When Sir Lionel saw that, he determined to assay that knight himself; so he got on horseback without wakening his brother Sir Lancelot, and followed the strong knight. When he had overtaken him, he bade him turn. Forthwith the other turned and met Sir Lionel, and smote him down as he had done the three knights. Then he bound him fast, threw him across his own horse, and took him, along with the others, to his castle. There the strong knight unarmed his four captives, beat them while naked with thorns, and thrust them into a gloomy prison, where they found many other knights, who made a great lamentation.
It so happened that Sir Ector de Maris, brother to Sir Lancelot and Sir Lionel, when he found that they had gone to seek adventures, was wroth that he did not accompany them, and set out to seek them. As he rode through the forest, he came to a strong castle which stood by a stream. At the ford of the stream, close by the castle, grew a tall tree, on which Sir Ector saw hanging a great many knights’ shields, and among them the shield of his brother Sir Lionel. At the bole of the tree hung a great copper basin. Sir Ector raised his spear, and struck the basin thrice with all his might, so that it sounded like a church-bell. Forthwith there came out of the castle the same knight that had smitten down Sir Lionel, and he bade Sir Ector make ready. So they ran together, and Sir Ector smote the strange knight so hard that he turned his horse thrice about, but still he kept his saddle.
“That was well done,” said the other, “and full knightly hast thou stricken me.” Then he rushed on Sir Ector, caught him under his right arm, bore him clean out of his saddle, and so rode with him into the hall of the castle, where he threw him down in the middle of the floor. Then said this strong knight, whose name was Sir Turquine, unto Sir Ector,—
“Because you have done more to me this day than has been done by any knight these twelve years, I will grant you your life, if you will be sworn to be my prisoner all your life.”
“That will I never promise,” said Ector.
“You will suffer the more for it,” answered the other. So he unarmed Sir Ector, and beat him with thorns, as he had done the other knights, and threw him into his dungeon, where were many knights his fellows, and especially Sir Lionel. The two brothers made great sorrow together, and Sir Ector asked Lionel where Sir Lancelot was.
“Fair brother,” answered Sir Lionel, “I left him asleep under an apple-tree, and what is become of him I cannot tell.”
Then all the knights that were prisoners said if Sir Lancelot came not to help them, they could not be delivered, for they knew no other knight but he who could match Sir Turquine.
Meanwhile Sir Lancelot slept long under the apple-tree, and while he lay there, King Arthur’s sister, Morgan le Fay, and three other queens, passed by. They saw the knight sleeping, and knew him for Sir Lancelot; and then Morgan put an enchantment on him that he should sleep for six hours, and they had him borne to a castle of hers near at hand. By night-time the enchantment was past, and he awoke; and a fair damsel brought his supper, and told him that he was in the power of an enchantress, but if he kept up his heart she would aid him. The next day the four queens came to him, and Morgan le Fay told him he must choose one of them for his true love, and forget his lady Queen Guenever, or else stay in prison there till he died. He answered boldly that he would be true to his lady, and would have none of them, so they left him. Afterwards the damsel again came to him, and said she was the daughter of King Bagdemagus, and that she would effect his escape on condition that he would promise to go and help her father in a tournament he and his knights were holding against the King of Northgalis. There had been another tournament some days before between the same parties, and King Bagdemagus was put to the worse because there were three knights of King Arthur’s court that helped the King of Northgalis; therefore the damsel wanted Sir Lancelot’s help for her father. Sir Lancelot knew King Bagdemagus for a good knight, so cheerfully he promised to help him in the tournament. The next day, early in the morning, the damsel helped him out of his prison, and got him his horse and his armour, and told him where he should find her and her father.
So Sir Lancelot rode away, glad at heart, and after some adventures he came to an abbey where King Bagdemagus was. The damsel was there already, and she gave him a hearty greeting. Nor was Bagdemagus himself behind in that. Lancelot told him how he had been betrayed by the four queens, and how his brother Sir Lionel had left him. “And,” said he, “because your daughter delivered me out of my prison, I shall, while I live, do her service, and all her friends and kindred.”
“Then am I sure of your help at the tournament,” said King Bagdemagus.
“Certainly I will not fail you,” answered Lancelot; and he asked what knights of King Arthur’s had been on the side of the King of Northgalis. The king said they were Sir Mador de la Port, and Sir Mordred, King Arthur’s nephew, and Sir Gahalatine.
The tournament was appointed to take place within three miles of the abbey; and on the day before, King Bagdemagus sent to Sir Lancelot, by his direction, three of his best knights, each with a white shield bare of any device, and a like shield for Sir Lancelot himself. On the morrow the four knights ambushed themselves in a little wood close by the field where the tournament was to be held. Then the King of Northgalis and his knights came into the field on the one side, and King Bagdemagus and his knights on the other, and the three knights of King Arthur’s stood by themselves. Then the two parties met with a great dash, and at the first encounter there fell twelve knights of King Bagdemagus, and six of the King of Northgalis, and King Bagdemagus was put much to the worse. Then in came Sir Lancelot with the white shield, and the three knights with him. He thrust into the thickest of the press, and with one spear he smote down five knights. Then he overthrew the King of Northgalis himself, that was a good knight, and broke his thigh. The three knights of King Arthur saw this, and marvelled who it might be.
“Yonder is a shrewd guest,” quoth Sir Mador de la Port, “therefore will I have at him.”
So they encountered, and Sir Lancelot bore him down, horse and man, so that his shoulder was put out. “Now befalleth it to me to joust,” said Sir Mordred, “for Sir Mador has had a great fall.” But he fared no better, for Sir Lancelot smote him out of his saddle with such might that his neck was well-nigh broken, and he lay long in a swoon. Then came in Sir Gahalatine, and he and Lancelot ran together, and both broke their spears; but when they took to their swords, Sir Lancelot smote Sir Gahalatine so hard on the helm that blood came from his nose and mouth, and he fell stunned from his horse. Thereafter Sir Lancelot got another great spear, and before it broke he had struck down with it sixteen knights, and with another he unhorsed twelve knights more, so that the King of Northgalis’s knights would joust no more, and the prize was given to King Bagdemagus.
Sir Lancelot rode with Bagdemagus to his castle, and there he was well entertained by the king and his daughter. The next day he departed to seek his brother Sir Lionel, and came to the same forest where he had parted from him. As he rode, he met a damsel, and asked her if she knew of any adventures.
“Yes,” she answered, “here are adventures near at hand, if thou darest to prove them.”
“For that cause came I hither,” said Lancelot. Then the damsel undertook, if he would tell her his name, to bring him where was the strongest knight he had ever met. So he told her his name. Then said she, “Sir, here is an adventure that well befits thee. Hard by dwells a knight that can overmatch any other I ever heard of, except it be thee; and I understand that he keeps in his prison more than threescore of King Arthur’s knights that he has conquered with his own hands. But when you have accomplished that adventure, you must promise me, as you are a true knight, to go with me and help me and other damsels that are distressed by a false knight.”
Sir Lancelot promised as she desired, and she brought him to Sir Turquine’s castle, and bid him beat on the copper basin. He smote it so hard and so long that the bottom fell out, but no one answered. Then he rode by the gate of the castle nearly half an hour, and presently he saw coming a great knight, driving before him a horse, on which lay an armed knight bound, and that knight Sir Lancelot presently saw was Sir Gaheris, Sir Gawaines brother.
Then Sir Lancelot rode out to meet them, and the great knight, who was Sir Turquine, got his spear in readiness. Without many words, they ran together with so much force that both their horses’ backs broke. So soon as they could get to their feet, they drew their swords, and smote each other many terrible blows, so that in no long time each was sorely wounded. Thus they fought for more than two hours, till at last both were breathless, and they stood leaning on their swords.
“Now, fellow,” quoth Sir Turquine, “hold thy hand awhile, and tell me what I shall ask thee.”
“Say on,” said Sir Lancelot.
“Thou art,” said Turquine, “the biggest man I ever met, and the best breathed, and like one knight that I hate above all others. If thou be not he, I will gladly accord with thee, and for thy love will deliver all the prisoners I have; and if thou wilt tell me thy name, thou and I will be friends together, and I will never fail thee while I live.”
“Well,” said Lancelot, “who is that knight whom thou hatest above all others?”
“Truly,” said Sir Turquine, “it is Sir Lancelot du Lake, for he slew my brother Sir Carados of the Dolorous Tower, who was one of the best knights then living. Him, therefore, I except; and if I ever meet him, one of us shall make an end of the other, for to that I have made a vow. And because of what Sir Lancelot did to my brother have I slain a hundred good knights, and maimed many others; and still have I in my dungeon threescore and four. But all these shall be delivered, if thou wilt tell me thy name, and thou art not Sir Lancelot.”
“Sir Knight,” answered Lancelot, “wit thou well and know that I am Lancelot du Lake, King Ban’s son of Benwick, and Knight of the Round Table; and now I defy thee to do thy worst.”
“Ah,” said Turquine, “thou art more welcome to me, Lancelot, than ever knight was before, for we shall not part till one of us be dead.” So they rushed together like two wild bulls, lashing at each other with their swords, and fought for two hours more, and either gave the other many deep wounds. But at last Turquine grew very faint, and could scarce hold up his shield for weariness. That saw Sir Lancelot, and rushed on him more fiercely than ever, and got him down on his knees; then he loosed off his helm and smote off his head. After that Lancelot released Sir Gaheris, and begged him to go into Turquine’s castle and deliver all the knights that were there prisoners; and he begged Gaheris to lend him his horse—for his own was killed—so that he might ride with the damsel and fulfil his promise. Gaheris assented joyfully, for said he, “Fair lord, you have saved both me and my horse; and surely you are the best knight of the world, for you have slain the best knight except yourself that ever I saw.” And he begged Lancelot to tell him his name; and Lancelot did so, and promised to return to the court at the Feast of Pentecost. So then he departed with his damsel.
Gaheris went into the castle, and found there a porter with many keys. So he threw the porter on the ground so hard that his eyes started out of his head, and then he took the keys, and let out all the prisoners. They thanked Gaheris much, for when they saw that he was wounded they thought he had overcome Turquine. But he told them it was Sir Lancelot who had slain him, and that he had left word for them to await his coming at the court. However, Sir Kay, who was also among the prisoners, with Sir Lionel and Sir Ector, said they would not do so, but would go and seek Sir Lancelot.
Meanwhile Lancelot rode with the damsel, and she told him that on the road they were going there was a false knight called Sir Peers du Forest Savage, who lay in wait for all ladies, and robbed and distressed them. So Sir Lancelot bade her ride on in front, and when that felon knight came out upon her he would be ready. It fell out as they had planned. Sir Peers seized the damsel, and then Sir Lancelot came and rebuked him. Sir Peers drew his sword, and rode to Lancelot, who smote him on the helmet so that he clove him to the throat. Then Lancelot asked the damsel if she required any more service at his hands. She answered him that she did not; but she wished him good fortune in all that he undertook, for he was the courtliest knight and the meekest to all ladies and gentlewomen that she had ever known.
After that they parted; and Lancelot rode on for two days through a thick wood, and had to sleep as well as he could beneath the trees. On the third day he came to a broad river that was crossed by a long narrow bridge. As he was going over the bridge there sprang out all of a sudden a foul-looking churl, who smote his horse on the nose so that it turned about, and then he asked the knight why he came over that bridge without license.
“Why should I not ride this way?” said Lancelot. “There is no other way.”
“Thou must find another,” said the churl, and straightway struck at him with a great club stuck full of pins of iron. The knight warded the blow with his sword, and dealt such a buffet in return that he cut the churl almost in twain. So he passed on over the bridge, and at the farther side was a fair village, with a castle in the midst. Many people cried out to him that he had done an evil deed for himself, for he had slain the chief porter of the castle. Of all this Lancelot took no heed, but went straight into the castle, of which the gate was open, and within he found a green courtyard. Immediately there set upon him two huge giants; well armed except their heads, carrying heavy clubs. One of them rushed at him, but Sir Lancelot put off the club with his shield, and with his sword he clave the giant’s head down to the breast. When the other saw that, he turned to flee; but Sir Lancelot followed hard after him, and smote him on the shoulder, so that he died on the spot. Then he went into the castle, and a great number of ladies and damsels came and thanked him for having rescued them from the giants, who had kept them in bondage for many years.
So Lancelot again rode forth, and passed through many wild countries. One night he lodged in a small house with an old gentlewoman, who gave him a bed in her upper chamber. While he lay there asleep he was awakened by a sound of one riding hard, and presently there came a knocking at the door. Lancelot rose and looked out of the window. It was bright moonlight, and he saw one knight defending himself against three. Forthwith he put on his armour, and got out of the window; then he called out loud, “Turn, you knights, to me, and leave fighting with that knight,” As soon as he said that they all three dismounted, and rushed upon Lancelot on foot with their swords, and there began a great battle. The knight whom they had chased would have helped Sir Lancelot.
“Nay, Sir Kay,” said Lancelot, who knew him by the device on his shield, “I ask none of your help; leave them to me.” So Sir Kay stood back, and very soon Sir Lancelot had stricken all of them to the earth. They cried out, “Sir Knight, we yield to thee as a man of might.”
“I will not have you yield to me,” answered Lancelot. “If you will yield to Sir Kay the Seneschal, I will spare your lives, but not otherwise.”
“Fair Knight,” said they, “we are loath to do that, for we should have overcome Sir Kay had not you been here; therefore to yield to him we have no reason.”
“As for that,” said Lancelot, “make your own choice whether you live or die; but if you yield, it must be to Sir Kay.”
So, to save their lives, they did as he commanded, and he swore them to go to King Arthur’s court on the next Whitsunday, and put themselves at the grace and mercy of Queen Guenever, saying that Sir Kay had sent them. Then Lancelot suffered them to depart; and he and Sir Kay went into the lodging. Then Sir Kay saw who it was, and he knelt down and thanked him for having twice saved his life.
“I have done no more than I ought to do,” answered Sir Lancelot.
When Sir Kay was unarmed, he asked for meat; and as he was sore hungered, he ate heartily. He was lodged in the same chamber with Sir Lancelot; but he slept very sound, and in the morning Lancelot rose, leaving him still asleep, took Sir Kay’s armour and shield, mounted his horse, and rode away. When Sir Kay arose, and saw that Sir Lancelot had got his armour and left him his own, he said,—
“Now, by my faith, I know well that he will grieve some of King Arthur’s knights, for they will think that it is I, and they will be bold with him; and because of his armour and shield, I am sure that I shall ride in peace.” So then he thanked his hostess, and departed.
Meanwhile Sir Lancelot rode on through the forest till he came to a fair open country full of rivers and green meadows. On the roadside he saw three pavilions, with white shields hanging before them and great spears leaning beside. The knights who lodged in the pavilions were sitting beside them; and Sir Lancelot rode past, and spoke not a word. Then the knights said to one another, “It is the proud Sir Kay; he thinketh no knight is as good as he, but the contrary is often proved.” Then one of the knights, who was named Sir Gaunter, said, “By my faith I will ride after him, and assay him for all his pride, and you may see how I shall speed.” With that he armed him, took his spear and shield, and rode hard after Sir Lancelot. And when he came near him he called out, “Abide, thou proud knight Sir Kay, for thou shalt not pass quietly.”
So Sir Lancelot turned, and when they encountered, Sir Gaunter’s spear broke on his shield, but he smote down Sir Gaunter, horse and man. Then one of the other knights, whose name was Sir Gilmere, said, “Yonder knight is not Sir Kay; he is far mightier.”
“I dare lay my head,” said the third brother, that was called Sir Reynold, “he has slain Sir Kay, and taken his horse and harness.”
“Whether it be so or not,” said Sir Gilmere, “it behoves us to take our horses and rescue our brother Sir Gaunter, though methinks we shall all have enough to do to match that knight.” So they rode to the place as hard as they could; and first Sir Gilmere put forth his spear, and Sir Lancelot smote him down, so that he lay in a swoon. Then came Sir Reynold, and he and Sir Lancelot broke their spears on one another, and then began a hard battle with their swords. The other two brothers rose, and recovered themselves a little, and came to help Sir Reynold. When Lancelot saw that, he first smote Sir Reynold so sorely that he fell from his saddle, and then he served the other two in like manner. So the three knights had to yield; but they asked him to tell them his name, for they were sure he was not Sir Kay.
“Let that be as it may,” said Lancelot, “I charge ye to come to King Arthur’s court on Whitsunday and yield ye to Queen Guenever, and say that Sir Kay sent you.”
This they swore to perform, and then Lancelot rode away from them. In a while he came to a forest, where he saw four Knights of the Round Table sitting on their horses under an oak tree. There were his own brother Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Sagramour le Desirous that was a good knight, Sir Gawaine, and Sir Ewaine. As Sir Lancelot passed, they thought by the device on his shield that it was Sir Kay, and Sir Sagramour said he would prove Sir Kay’s might. Thereupon he rode against Sir Lancelot, who met him, and smote him to the ground, horse and man.
“Lo, my fellows!” quoth Sir Ector, “yonder you may see what a buffet he has got. That knight is much bigger than ever was Sir Kay.” Then he got his spear in his hand, and rode toward Sir Lancelot, who served him as he had done the other, and still his spear held.
“By my faith,” said Ewaine, “that is a strong knight. I am sure he has slain Sir Kay, and I see by his great strength it will be hard to match him.” So in his turn he rode against Sir Lancelot, but fared no better than those who had gone before. “Now,” said Gawaine, “I see that I must needs encounter with that knight.” So he took his spear in his hand, and rode hard against Sir Lancelot, and each smote the other in the middle of the shield; but Gawaine’s spear broke, and Sir Lancelot’s thrust was so strong that Gawaine’s horse reared up and fell over with him. Sir Lancelot passed on smiling, and said, “God give him joy that made this spear; for a better held I never in my hand.”
Then the four knights went to one another, and helped each other as best they might. “What say ye to this jest,” said Gawaine, “that one spear hath felled us four?”
“We would he had been elsewhere,” answered the others; “for he is a man of great might.”
“You may well say that,” quoth Gawaine, “for I dare lay my life it is Sir Lancelot. I know him by his riding. Howbeit we shall know when we come to the court.”
Sir Lancelot still rode on his way, and encountered many strange adventures. At last he came to a castle, and there he saw a falcon that was caught by the legs, and hung to the bough of a great tree in peril of its life. Then came a lady out of the castle, and said, “O Lancelot, as thou art the flower of all the knights in the world, help me to get my hawk; for if it be lost, my lord will slay me.”
“What is your lord’s name?” asked Sir Lancelot.
“Sir,” she answered, “it is Sir Phelot, a knight of the King of Northgalis.”
“Fair lady,” said Lancelot, “since you know my name, and require me on my knighthood to help you, I will do what I may to get your hawk, though I am but an ill climber.” So he alighted, tied his horse to the tree, and prayed the lady to unarm him. When he was unarmed, he put off all his clothes save his shirt and breeches, and then climbed the tree, and rescued the falcon, the which he tied to a rotten branch and threw it down to the lady. Suddenly the lady’s husband, Sir Phelot, came out of the castle all armed, and said, “Now, Sir Lancelot, I have found thee as I would have thee.”
“Ah, lady,” said Lancelot, “why have you betrayed me?”
“She hath done as I commanded her,” answered Sir Phelot. “There is no escape for thee; thine hour hath come when thou must die.”
Lancelot entreated him to let him at least have his sword, and then he would encounter him, even without armour. But Sir Phelot answered, “I know thee too well for that; thou shalt get no weapon, if I can prevent it.”
“Alas,” said Lancelot, “that ever knight should die weaponless!” So he looked about him, and saw over his head a great bough of the tree that was leafless. This he broke off by pure might, and then suddenly sprang from the tree, so that his horse stood between him and Sir Phelot. Then Sir Phelot came round the horse, and struck at him, meaning to have slain him. But Lancelot cunningly warded the blow with the bough, and then struck the knight so mightily on the side of the head with it that he stunned him. Then Lancelot took the sword from his hand, and struck his head from his body. When the lady saw that her husband was dead, she cried out and swooned away. But Lancelot got on his armour as fast as he could, for he feared lest more enemies should come from the knight’s castle. Then he got on his horse and rode away, and thanked God that he had escaped unscathed from that adventure.
So after this Sir Lancelot arrived at the court, two days before the Feast of Pentecost; and King Arthur and all the court were glad of his coming. And all the knights that he had rescued from Sir Turquine came and gave him honour and praise. And those knights whom he had stricken down while he wore Sir Kay’s armour were passing glad when they knew it was Sir Lancelot that had put them to the worse. So at that time Sir Lancelot had the greatest name of any knight in the world, and was the most honoured, both by high and low.