At the end of that time King Arthur, who had grown very uneasy because of Ewaines protracted absence, set out with many knights to the Valley of the Fountain to find what had become of him. They were all entertained as nobly as Ewaine himself had been by the knight who dwelt in the stately castle with the twenty-four damsels. The next day they went forward to the place of the fountain; and there Sir Kay, with the king’s permission; undertook the adventure, and threw the water on the marble slab. After the thunder and the hail-storm, came a knight in black armour, who encountered Sir Kay and easily overthrew him. Then Arthur and his company encamped on the plain, and the next day Sir Kay, who was not satisfied with his first repulse, again challenged the knight, who this time not only unhorsed him, but wounded him severely. Thereafter all the knights the king had brought with him, except Sir Gawaine, successively encountered the black knight, and were all overthrown one after another. Then at last Gawaine met him, but he did not carry his own shield. For two days the two met and fought on horseback with spears, and neither could gain the advantage. On the third day they fought with increased fury, and both were unseated. Then they fell to with their swords, and struck many terrible blows. At last a blow from Ewaine turned Sir Gawaines helm on one side, so that his face could be seen. “Ah!” cried Ewaine, “I knew thee not for my cousin, because thou hadst not thine own shield. Take my sword, for thou hast conquered.” But Gawaine said that Ewaine was the victor, and they disputed this till the king decided that neither had vanquished the other. Then they embraced, and Arthur and his knights were exceedingly rejoiced to see Sir Ewaine once more. He led them all to the Castle of the Fountain, where they were splendidly entertained for three months.
After that King Arthur returned to his own dominions, and he entreated the countess to permit Ewaine to go with him for three months. She assented, though it was very painful to her. But when Ewaine was once more among his kindred and friends, he forgot all about his lady and his territory, and remained about three years instead of three months!
Now one day, as Ewaine was sitting in the hall of the king’s palace at Caerleon, there came in a damsel riding on a bay horse; and she dismounted and went up to him, and took the ring off his finger. “Thus,” said she, “should be treated the deceiver, the traitor, the faithless, the disgraced.” Then she got on her horse again and departed. But Ewaine suddenly remembered the countess, and how he had deserted her; and his mind was so filled with shame and sorrow that he well-nigh lost his reason. He wandered away from Caerleon into wild and desert places, and remained there till his apparel wore out, and his hair and beard grew long, and his body was sore wasted. And as he wandered, he came to a fair park belonging to the countess whom he had deserted. There he lay down by a small lake; and he was so weak that he became insensible. It happened that the countess came forth with her maidens to walk in the park, and they saw him lying there. They saw that life was still in him; and the countess went back to her palace, and gave to one of her maidens a flask containing precious ointment. “Go,” said she, “with this balsam and a horse and clothing to that man who lieth in the park, and anoint him with the balsam near the heart. If there is life in him, he will arise; and then watch what he will do.”
The maiden obeyed, and poured the whole of the balsam upon Ewaine; then she withdrew a little-and watched. Soon he rose up and looked at his person, and became ashamed of the unseemliness of his appearance; so he clothed himself, and with some difficulty mounted on the horse. Then the damsel saluted him; and he asked her what land that was. “Truly,” she said, “it belongs to a widowed countess. At the death of her husband she had two earldoms, but now this park and castle are all that are left to her, the rest having been taken from her by a young earl, her neighbour, because she refused to become his wife.”
“That is pity,” said Ewaine. Then she led him to the castle, and took him to a pleasant chamber, where she waited on him till he was quite recovered; and in three months he had become more mighty and more comely than ever he was before. One day he heard a great tumult outside the castle walls, and he asked the maiden what was the cause.
“The earl of whom I spoke to thee,” she said, “has come before the castle with a numerous army to subdue the countess.” Then Ewaine asked her to obtain for him from the countess the loan of a horse and arms; and when he had got them he went forth, and penetrated the hostile army till he came to the earl himself, whom he dragged out of his saddle, and carried him off, in spite of all the efforts of his knights, to the castle. Then he took him to the countess, and threw him down before her, and said, “Behold, here is a gift in requital for thy precious balsam.”
Then the earl restored to the countess all that he had taken from her; and as a ransom for his life he gave her the half of his own dominions, and much gold and silver. After that Ewaine took his departure; and as he rode through a wood he heard a loud yelling, which was repeated a second and third time. He went to the spot whence the sound proceeded, and came to a huge craggy mound, whereon a black lion and a horrible serpent were fighting. Ewaine drew his sword and smote the serpent in twain. Then he continued on his way; but the lion followed him, and played about him as though it had been a hound. Thus they journeyed on together. When it was time to rest for the night, Ewaine dismounted, turned his horse loose to graze, and kindled a fire; and the lion, having left him, presently returned with a large roebuck, which it threw down before him. Ewaine roasted some of the flesh for himself, and the rest of it he gave to the lion. While he was eating, he heard a deep sigh that seemed to come from within a rock near at hand. He called out to know whether the sigh proceeded from a mortal; and a voice answered that it did. “Who art thou?” asked Ewaine.
“I am,” said the voice, “Luned, the handmaiden to the Countess of the Fountain. I am imprisoned here on account of the knight that came from King Arthur’s court and married the countess. He was the friend I loved most in the world; and after he had departed, two of the knights of the court traduced him. I told them that they two were not a match for him alone. So they have imprisoned me in this stone vault; and I am to be put to death if he come not to deliver me by a certain day, which is no further off than the day after to-morrow. I have no one to seek him for me. His name is Ewaine, the son of King Urience.”
“Art thou certain that if he knew all this the knight would come to rescue thee?” asked Ewaine.
“I am most certain of it,” she answered.
In the morning Ewaine asked the damsel if there were any place near where he could get lodging. She directed him to an earl’s castle near. Thither he went, and the lion with him; and at the castle was he right nobly entertained. But he found the earl and everybody else in the castle exceedingly sorrowful; so he asked the reason.
“I have two sons,” said the earl, “and yesterday they went to the mountains to hunt. Now there is on the mountain a horrible giant that kills men and devours them, and he seized my sons. To-morrow he has fixed an hour to be here; and he threatens that he will then slay my sons before my eyes, unless I will deliver into his hands my only daughter, whom you see here.” The maiden sat beside her father; and she was exceedingly fair, but very sorrowful.
Ewaine said that was very lamentable, and then talked of other matters. The next morning there was a great clamour, which was caused by the coming of the giant with the two youths. Then Ewaine put on his armour, and went forth to attack the giant; and his lion went with him. When the giant saw that Ewaine was armed, he rushed fiercely upon him; and the lion fought against the giant more strongly even than Ewaine did “Truly,” said the giant, “I could deal easily with thee were it not for this lion that is with thee.” Upon that, Ewaine took the lion back to the castle and shut the gate upon him, and then returned to fight the giant as before. The lion roared furiously, and climbed up till he got to the top of the castle, and then sprung down from the wall, and rushed again upon the giant, giving him a stroke with his paw that tore him from the shoulder to the hip, so that he fell down dead. Then Ewaine restored the two youths to their father.
The earl besought Ewaine to remain with him, but he would not, and set forth to the place where Luned was imprisoned in the stone vault. When he came there he found a great fire kindled, and the two knights were leading the maiden to cast her into it. Ewaine asked what charge they had against her; and they told him of the compact that there was between-them. Then, without making himself known, he proffered himself to do battle for her in place of Ewaine; and the knights assented. They attacked Ewaine, and, inasmuch as he had not his usual strength, he was sore beset by them; but his lion fell upon them and put them to the worse. So thus was Luned saved from being burned. And Ewaine returned with her to the dominions of the Countess of the Fountain; and thence he took the countess with him to the court of King Arthur, where they lived afterwards in great happiness and renown.
WHILE Tristram was with La Beale Isoude at Joyous Gard, he often rode hunting, of which pastime he was exceedingly fond; and by Isoude’s advice he always rode armed. One day as he was returning from the chase, with his helm on, he met Sir Dinadan, who had come into that country to seek him. Sir Dinadan told his name; but Sir Tristram would not, at which Sir Dinadan was angry, and reproached him; and at last said that he must either tell his name or do battle. Tristram would do neither; so then Dinadan chid him for a coward. As they talked there came by a knight, Sir Epinogris, and Dinadan challenged him to joust. Sir Epinogris was nothing loath, and when they ran together he smote Sir Dinadan out of his saddle.
“How is it with you now?” said Tristram.
“Fie upon thee, coward,” cried Dinadan. “If thou be anything of a knight, avenge my shame.”
“Nay,” answered Sir Tristram. “I will not joust at this time; but take your horse and let us go from hence.”
“God defend me,” said Dinadan, “from thy fellowship, for I have not sped well since I met thee.”
“Well,” said Tristram, “peradventure I could give you tidings of Sir Tristram.”
“I will not believe,” answered Dinadan, “that Sir Tristram would ever be in thy company; if he were, he were so much the worse.”
And so they parted; and Tristram rode home to Joyous Gard, where he alighted and unarmed him. He told Isoude of his meeting with Sir Dinadan, and how he was full of mirth, and the best companion among all knights. “Why have you not brought him with you?” asked Isoude.
“Do not be afraid,” said Sir Tristram. “He has only come here to seek me, and I guess we shall soon hear of him.”
Even as he spoke, one of the servants in the castle came to tell Sir Tristram that an errant-knight had come to the castle seeking lodging; and by the device of his shield Tristram knew it was Sir Dinadan. So Tristram bade Isoude send for him, saying that he would himself keep out of sight; and he told his lady that if she spoke in praise of lovers, against whom Sir Dinadan ever railed, she would have great diversion. Dinadan was accordingly welcomed to the castle, and when he was brought to Isoude, she questioned him as to his name, and whence he came, and wherefore he rode in that country. He told her all she would know. Then she led the talk to lovers, and he railed greatly against them. “Now, I pray you,” said she, “to tell me, will you fight for my love against three knights that have done me great wrong? Inasmuch as you be a knight of King Arthur’s court, I require you to undertake this battle for me.”
“Madam,” answered Dinadan, “I will say plainly to you that though you are the fairest lady I ever saw, and much fairer than is my lady Queen Guenever, yet will I not fight for you or for any other against three knights.” So Isoude laughed heartily at him; and they had pleasant diversion together. In the morning Tristram armed him early, to ride to Lonazep, where a great tournament had been appointed, to which knights were coming from all parts; and he promised to meet with Sir Dinadan on the way, and ride with him. Afterwards Sir Dinadan departed, and in a while he overtook Sir Tristram.
“Ah!” said he, “art thou that coward knight with whom I met yesterday? Make ready; for thou shalt joust with me whether thou wilt or not.”
“To that I am loath,” answered Tristram; and so they ran together. But Tristram missed him purposely, and he broke his spear on Tristram. Then he drew out his sword; but Tristram refused to fight with swords.
“Well,” cried Dinadan, “thou art as goodly and large a man as ever I saw; but a greater coward I never met. What wilt thou do with those great spears thou hast with thee?”—for Tristram’s squires were bearing spears for his use at the tournament.
“I shall give them,” said Tristram, “to some good knight when I come to the tournament; and if I see you do the best, I will give them to you.”
As they rode on together and talked, they saw in the way a knight that stood ready to joust.
“Do thou meet him,” said Tristram. “I will not, for he seems to me to be a shrewish knight.”
“Shame on thee!” answered Dinadan.
However, he encountered with the knight, who smote him clean out of his saddle. Then Sir Dinadan rose to his feet very angry, and challenged the other to fight on foot.
“What is thy name?” asked the knight.
“Wit you well, I am Sir Dinadan.”
“And I am Sir Gareth, brother to Sir Gawaine.”
Then were both glad of the meeting, for Sir Gareth was the best knight of his kin, and was greatly loved of all true knights; so there was no more talk of fighting. But as Dinadan and Gareth rode together, they spoke of Tristram, and of his great cowardice (for they knew him not); and he heard all they said, but only laughed at them. Presently they overtook another knight, who wished to joust.
“Let one of you encounter with that knight,” said Tristram, “for I will not have to deal with him.”
“Then I will,” said Gareth.
So they ran together, and the stranger knight smote Sir Gareth over his horse’s croup.
“Now,” quoth Tristram to Sir Dinadan, “do thou avenge that good knight Sir Gareth.”
“That will I not,” answered Dinadan; “for the stranger hath stricken down a much stronger knight than I am.”
“Ah,” said Sir Tristram, “now, Sir Dinadan, I perceive that your heart begins to fail you; so you shall see what I can do.” Then he rode to the other knight, and, when they met, smote him clean out of his saddle. Then Sir Dinadan marvelled who this man might be that he thought such a coward. But the knight that was overthrown drew his sword, and demanded to fight on foot.
“What is your name?” asked Tristram.
“Sir,” answered the other, “my name is Palomides.”
“What knight do you most hate?” then said Tristram.
“Sir Knight,” said Sir Palomides, “I hate Sir Tristram to the death; and if we meet, then one of us shall die.”
“Then,” answered Tristram, “you may know that I am Sir Tristram; and so now do your worst.”
When Sir Palomides heard that, he was astonished; and he begged Sir Tristram to forgive his evil words, and promised ever to serve him knightly. So they were friends, and all four rode on together; but Sir Dinadan complained of the manner in which Sir Tristram had mocked him. As they went, Sir Palomides told of a shameful deed that had been wrought by Sir Gawaine and his brothers Gaheris, Agravaine, and Mordred. They had ever had ill-will to King Pellinore and all his kin, because King Pellinore had killed in battle their father King Lot, and they had many years before compassed the death of King Pellinore. But even this vengeance had not satisfied them; and they had lately beset Sir Lamoracke de Galis, his son, as he was riding alone from a tournament, and had killed him feloniously, giving him his death-wound from behind. Of this deed Sir Tristram and the others spoke strongly in blame; and Sir Gareth, though he was the brother of those who had done it, said as much as any of the others, declaring that because of that murder he should never love his brethren or keep fellowship with them.
The four knights went back again together to Joyous Gard, because the day of the tournament was not yet come, and there they had good cheer together. After some days they set out for Lonazep, and Queen Isoude rode with them, richly attired, to see the tournament. As they went along they saw a large body of knights: it was Sir Galihodin, who had twenty knights with him. When Sir Galihodin beheld Tristram and his party, he said,—
“Fair fellows, yonder ride four knights and a beautiful lady. I am disposed to take their lady from them.”
So he sent a squire to Sir Tristram to ask whether he and his fellows would joust or deliver up their lady.
“Tell your lord,” answered Tristram, “to come with as many as he will, and win her and take her.”
“Sir,” said Palomides, “I pray you to let me have this adventure.”
“With all my heart,” said Sir Tristram.
Then Sir Galihodin and three of his fellows approached them; but Sir Palomides, with one spear, unhorsed all of them. When the rest of Sir Galihodin’s knights saw his downfall, six more of them came, and would have set on Sir Palomides; but he stood still and awaited them; and Sir Galihodin forbade them to meddle with him; so, as Sir Palomides saw that they would joust no more, he returned to Tristram and the others.
“Right well and worshipfully have you done,” said Tristram, “as a good knight should.”
Presently they fell in with four knights more—Sir Gawaine, Sir Ewaine, Sir Sagramore le Desirous, and Sir Dodinas le Savage. Now, Sir Palomides was eager to prove himself a good knight before Queen Isoude, and he begged Sir Tristram that if these knights sought to joust they also might be left to him. Sir Tristram again assented. So Sir Palomides rode forward, encountered the four knights one after another, and smote them all to the ground. After that, they rode on quietly to Lonazep; and there Sir Tristram had two pavilions pitched beside a well and he and his company abode in them.
At and about the castle of Lonazep were gathered a noble assembly of knights and kings. King Arthur was there, with the most of the Knights of the Round Table; and on the other side the kings of Scotland, Ireland, Surluse, Northumberland, Listenoise, Northgalis, and others, with their knights.
Sir Tristram and the three knights who were with him went in green colours; and when the pavilions had been pitched, Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan rode into Lonazep to hear what might be doing there, and Sir Tristram rode Sir Palomides’ horse, which was white. Sir Gawaine and Sir Galihodin saw him, and they thought it was the same knight who had stricken them down; and so they told King Arthur that that knight on the white horse had unhorsed them and six of their fellows. Thereupon King Arthur sent for Sir Tristram, and asked him his name; but Tristram would not tell it.
“Upon what side will you be in the tournament?” asked the king.
“Truly,” replied Sir Tristram, “I cannot tell that till I come to the field, and then I will go on the side to which my heart inclineth.”
So then he and Sir Dinadan rode again to their pavilions.
“Now, upon what party,” said Sir Tristram, “shall we be to-morrow?”
“Sir,” said Palomides, “if you will take my advice, we shall be against King Arthur, for on his part will be Sir Lancelot and many other good knights; and the more worshipful they, the more worship shall we win.”
“That is full knightly spoken,” said Tristram; “and we will do according to your counsel.”
So the next morning the four knights rode into the field, arrayed with trappings, shields, and spears of green; and Queen Isoude sat at a high window where she could see the jousts. The knights went straight to the party of the King of Scotland. When King Arthur saw them do that, he asked Sir Lancelot who they were.
“I do not certainly know,” answered Lancelot; “but I should guess that Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides are among them.”
Two knights that were brothers, named Sir Edward and Sir Sadocke, asked leave of King Arthur to have the first jousts; and straightway they met the kings of Scotland and Northgalis, and smote them from their saddles. At that was Sir Palomides wroth, and he rode first against Sir Edward and then against Sir Sadocke, and with the same spear he overthrew them both. Then came in Sir Tristram on a black horse, and ere he stinted he smote down with one spear four good knights; and Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan supported him manfully.
“By my head!” cried King Arthur, “that knight on the black horse does marvellously well.”
“Wait a little,” said Gawaine; “that knight has scarcely yet begun.”
And Sir Tristram remounted the kings of Scotland and North-galis, and then he pressed in among the knights of the opposite party, and smote with his spear and his sword to the right and left, till he had struck down thirty knights, and Sir Palomides twenty; and most of these were proved knights of King Arthur’s court.
“As I live,” said the king to Lancelot, “it is a great shame to see those two smite down so many knights of mine. Therefore make you ready, for we will have to do with them.”
“Sir,” said Sir Lancelot, “they are two passing good knights, and it will be little worship to us to have to do with them now, for they have this day had sore travail.”
“Nevertheless,” answered King Arthur, “I will be avenged. Therefore take Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector, and I will be the fourth, to do with them and the other two that ride with them.”
“Sir,” said Lancelot, “you shall find us ready.”
So the four rode into the field; and there Sir Lancelot smote down Sir Tristram, and Sir Bleoberis Sir Palomides, and Sir Ector Sir Gareth, and King Arthur overthrew Sir Dinadan. Then there was a great cry that the four green knights had a fall; and the King of Northgalis, remembering how Sir Tristram had helped him, rode straight to him and said,—
“Noble knight, I know not who thou art; but for the great deeds thou hast done this day take now my horse, and I will help myself as well as I can; for God knows thou art better worthy to have my horse than I myself.”
“Sir,” said Tristram, “I thank you; and mayhap I shall be able to requite your courtesy.”
Then Sir Tristram mounted and rode to King Arthur, and gave him with his sword such a buffet on the helm that he fell from his saddle. Then Sir Tristram gave the king’s horse to the King of Northgalis. There was a great press about King Arthur to horse him again; but Sir Palomides would not suffer it, but smote with his sword to the right and left mightily. Then, leaving Sir Palomides still on foot, Sir Tristram rode through the thickest of the press, smiting down many knights as he went, and passed to his pavilion. There he changed his horse, and put on red harness; and then he dashed lightly into the field again, and overthrew five knights with a single spear. Very soon he had again horsed Sir Palomides, Sir Gareth, and Sir Dinadan; and they again began to do marvellous deeds of arms; but they knew not who had succoured them, because Tristram had changed his armour. Now La Beale Isoude, who had watched Sir Tristram quit the field and return again, was well pleased when she saw him doing such great deeds, and she smiled as she sat at the window. It chanced that Sir Palomides looked up and saw her, and he was so rejoiced—because his love for her was still unabated—that he felt as though he could have overcome any knight, even Sir Lancelot or Sir Tristram himself. And he did so mightily that all men marvelled at his deeds; for he fared like a lion, and no knight could withstand him.
“By our Lady,” quoth Sir Tristram to Sir Dinadan, “I always knew Sir Palomides for a good knight, but never before have I seen him do so well.”
“It is his day,” answered Dinadan.
But he had seen how Palomides looked up at Isoude, and he said to himself that if Tristram knew for whose love he wrought these great achievements he would not be so well pleased. But all that were in the field gave Sir Palomides the prize. Just then came in Sir Lancelot, and when he heard the cry that Sir Palomides had done best, he got a great spear and rode against him. But Sir Palomides smote the spear with his sword and struck it in twain; and then, as he rode past Sir Lancelot, he struck at his horse and slew it, so that Sir Lancelot fell to the ground.
Then was there a loud outcry, and many knights said that Sir Palomides had acted contrary to the rules of the tournament. When Sir Ector de Maris saw how his brother Sir Lancelot had fared, he rode eagerly against Sir Palomides, and smote him out of his saddle. Then came Sir Lancelot with his sword to Sir Palomides and cried,—
“Thou hast this day done me the greatest despite that ever was done me in tournament or joust. Therefore defend thee, for I will be avenged.”
So Sir Palomides entreated him to forgive his unkindness, and to spare him; “for,” said he, “I know well I have not might to withstand you; and if you put me from my worship now, you put me from the greatest worship I ever had or shall have.”
“Well,” said Lancelot, “it is true that you have done marvellously well this day; and I have a guess for whose love it is. If my lady were here, you should not have borne away the worship; but as she is not here, you shall have it for me, and I will forbear you. But beware that your love be not discovered, for if Sir Tristram knew it, you would have cause to repent.”
So he, of his great nobleness, suffered Palomides to depart. Then Sir Lancelot was remounted, in spite of all the knights of the other side, and did great feats on King Arthur’s part, as Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides did on the other. But Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristram always spared one another. But when the tournament was ended for the day, King Arthur and all the kings gave Sir Palomides the prize, for he had begun at the first and had endured to the end. When King Arthur was praising Sir Palomides, Sir Lancelot said,—
“Sir, as for Palomides, he has this day well deserved the prize; and yet, there was on the field a far better knight than he, and that will be proved before the tournament is over.”
When Sir Tristram and his fellows returned to their pavilions, Sir Dinadan was angry because Sir Tristram had let Sir Palomides carry off the prize, and he reproached him with intent to provoke him, so that he might the next day put forth all his powers. Early the next morning Sir Tristram, Sir Palomides, Sir Gareth, and Queen Isoude rode out into the forest to take the fresh air; and as they went, it chanced that King Arthur and Sir Lancelot came near them. “Yonder,” said Sir Lancelot, “rideth the fairest lady in all the world except my lady Queen Guenever.”
“Who is it?” asked King Arthur: and when Lancelot told him, he said he would go nearer and greet Queen Isoude.
“Sir,” said Lancelot, “it is not wise to go too near, for there are with her two as good knights as any now living, and if we come suddenly upon them, they may be displeased.”
“As for that,” replied the king, “I will greet her, for I care not who may be displeased.”
“Sir,” said Lancelot, “you put yourself in great jeopardy.”
“Well,” quoth the king, “we will take the adventure.” So he rode straight to Queen Isoude, and saluted her, and said, “God save you, gracious lady.”
“Sir,” she answered, “you are welcome.”
Then the king looked at her steadfastly, and admired her beauty. With that came Sir Palomides, and said, “Thou uncourteous knight, what seekest thou here? Thou art uncourteous to come upon a lady so suddenly; therefore withdraw thee.” King Arthur took no heed of his words, but still looked on Queen Isoude. Then was Sir Palomides wroth, and he rode against King Arthur with his spear, and smote him from his horse. When Sir Lancelot saw that, he said to himself, “I am loath to have to do with yonder knight, not for his own sake, but because of Sir Tristram; for if I smite down Sir Palomides, I must encounter Sir Tristram, and I cannot match them both. Still, whether I live or die, needs must I avenge my lord.” And then he bade Sir Palomides make ready, and when they rode together, he gave him a great fall. That saw Sir Tristram, and cried to Lancelot, “Sir Knight, keep thee, for I must joust with thee.”
“I have no fear to joust with thee,” answered Lancelot, “but I am loath to do it. I was compelled to avenge my lord, when he was unhorsed unwarily and unknightly; but though I have done so, you should take no displeasure, for he is such a friend to me that I could not see him shamed.”
Then Sir Tristram understood that it was Sir Lancelot who spoke, and he suspected that it was King Arthur whom Palomides had struck down. So he put down his spear, and suffered Lancelot and the king to withdraw; and he chid Sir Palomides sharply for having shown such discourtesy to King Arthur. Sir Palomides was sore grieved at his words; and when the tournament began, he forsook Sir Tristram, and went against him to the opposite party. There he did great deeds of arms, and Sir Tristram marvelled that he had gone against him, and said to Gareth, “He is weary of my company.”
“Sir,” answered Gareth, “he desires to win worship and honour from you. That Sir Dinadan saw yesterday, and it was for that reason that he reproached you yesternight; for he loveth you better than any other knight in the world, and he wished to stir you up to win worship.”
“I may well believe you,” said Tristram; “and since I now understand Palomides’ evil will and envy, you shall see how long his worship shall endure.” With that he went into the press, and did so mightily that all the cry forsook Sir Palomides and followed Sir Tristram; for he smote down forty knights with his spear, and many others with his sword.
“How now?” said Sir Lancelot to King Arthur. “I told you that this day a better knight than Sir Palomides should play his part. See how well yonder knight is doing; he has both strength and wind.”
“You say truth,” answered the king: “I never saw a better knight. He far surpasses Palomides.”
“It needs must be so,” said Lancelot, “for it is the noble knight Sir Tristram himself.”
When Palomides saw Sir Tristram doing so well, he wept from pure anger, for he knew that if Sir Tristram put forth his might he himself should get little worship. In a while Sir Tristram left the field, and went to his pavilions, where he found Sir Dinadan still sleeping in his bed; and he woke him up, and bade him come to the field. Sir Dinadan rose up and armed him; but when he looked on Tristram’s shield and helm, and saw there the dints of many blows, he said, “Well was it for me that I slept; for had I been with you, I must for shame have followed you, and I see by the marks on your shield that I should have been well beaten.”
“Leave your japes,” said Tristram, “and come with me.” Then he changed his harness, and put on black armour.
“Ah,” said Dinadan; “have you plucked up your spirits? You are not in the same mood you were in yesterday.”
Sir Tristram only smiled, and bade Dinadan come with him.
Now Sir Palomides saw Tristram change his armour, and so did Queen Isoude. And Palomides thought to do Tristram a shame. So he changed his own armour with a wounded knight that was sitting by a well near the field, and then returned again to the tournament. This also Queen Isoude saw, but none of the knights in the field knew of it. Then Sir Palomides met Tristram, and both broke their spears, and after that they fought with their swords. Sir Tristram wondered who the other knight might be, for he felt that he was passing strong; and each gave the other many sore strokes. Then came in Sir Lancelot; and there came knights to him, and begged him to undertake the battle with the knight in black armour, because he had almost overcome the good knight with the silver shield,—which was Sir Palomides. Sir Lancelot knew not Sir Tristram, because he had changed his armour; so he rode between Tristram and Palomides, and said to Palomides, “Sir, let me have the battle, because you have need of rest.” Sir Palomides assented gladly, for he knew Sir Lancelot well, and hoped that he might beat or shame Sir Tristram. Sir Tristram also knew Sir Lancelot, but he met him full knightly, and they fought long and sorely together; and Queen Isoude well-nigh swooned for sorrow. Then said Sir Dinadan to Sir Gareth,—
“That knight in the black harness is Sir Tristram, and Sir Lancelot must needs get the better of him, for Sir Tristram hath had sore travail this day.”
“Then let us smite him down,” said Sir Gareth.
“It were better we should do so than that Sir Tristram should be shamed,” answered Dinadan, “for yonder there waits the strong knight with the silver shield, ready to fall on Sir Tristram if need be.”
Then forthwith Sir Gareth rushed on Sir Lancelot, and gave him such a stroke on the helm that he was well-nigh stunned; and immediately Sir Dinadan came upon him from the other side with a great spear, and smote him such a buffet that he fell to the ground, horse and all.
“For shame!” cried Tristram to Gareth and Dinadan; “why have you smitten down that good knight while he was fighting with me?” Then came in Sir Palomides, and struck Sir Dinadan from his horse; and Sir Lancelot, because Dinadan had smitten him down before, assailed him with his sword. Then Sir Palomides came fresh on Sir Tristram, who, being wishful to help Sir Dinadan, gave Palomides a mighty buffet, and then pulled him from his horse; and he himself leaped lightly down, and went between Lancelot and Dinadan, so that he and Lancelot again did battle together. Straightway Sir Dinadan got Tristram’s horse and brought it to him, and said aloud, so that Lancelot might hear, “My lord Sir Tristram, take your horse.”
“Ah!” cried Sir Lancelot, “what have I done? Now am I dishonoured. Ah, my lord Sir Tristram! why are you disguised? You have put yourself in great peril. But I pray you, noble knight, pardon me; for if I had known you, we should not have done this battle.”
“Sir,” answered Tristram, “this is not the first kindness you have shown me.” Then were they both horsed again; and all the people on King Arthur’s side said that Sir Lancelot had that day done the best, and on the other side that Sir Tristram had done the best. But said Sir Lancelot, “I have no right to the honour, for Sir Tristram has been longer in the field than I, and has smitten down many more knights; and therefore he has won the degree.” And so was it proclaimed.
Then the tournament ended for that day, and Queen Isoude returned to the pavilions, wroth out of measure with Sir Palomides, for she had seen all that he had done; and as Sir Tristram rode to the pavilions with Gareth and Dinadan, Sir Palomides came with them, still disguised in the armour of the wounded knight, and bearing the silver shield. Sir Tristram knew him not for Palomides, and therefore said they had no need of his fellowship; and thereupon Palomides made himself known. Sir Tristram reproached him sorely for what he had done, but he swore that he had not known him because of the changed armour. This excuse Sir Tristram received; but when they came to the tents, and Queen Isoude saw Palomides, she changed colour for anger.
“Madam, wherefore look you so angrily?” asked Sir Tristram.
“My dear lord,” she answered, “how can I be otherwise, when I saw this day how you were betrayed, and well-nigh brought to your death? I will not suffer in my presence such a felon and traitor as this Sir Palomides; for I saw how he watched you quit the field, and then, when he beheld you return, he changed armour with a wounded knight and came against you. For what he could do I was not greatly afraid, but I dreaded because of Sir Lancelot that knew you not.”
“Madam,” said Palomides, “you may say what you will. I must not contradict you, but by my knighthood, I knew not Sir Tristram.”
“Sir Palomides,” said Tristram, “I will hold you excused; and though you spared me not, all is pardoned on my part.”
Then La Beale Isoude hung down her head, and said no more. But while they sat at their meat, two armed knights came into the pavilion. “Sirs,” said Tristram, “you do not well to come upon us armed at all points.”
“Nay,” said one of them, “we come not with any evil intent, but as friends. I am come to see thee, Sir Tristram, and this knight to see Queen Isoude.”
Then Sir Tristram requested them to take off their helms; and when they did so, they were Sir Lancelot and King Arthur. So they were joyfully welcomed, and there was much merry talk about the tournament and other things.
“For what cause,” said King Arthur, “are you, Sir Tristram, against us? You are a Knight of the Round Table, and of right should be with us.”
“My lord,” said Sir Tristram, “here are Sir Dinadan and your own nephew, Sir Gareth, that have made me be against you.”
“My lord,” quoth Sir Gareth, “though I have the blame, it was Sir Tristram’s own will.”
“And that have we cause to repent,” said Dinadan; “for this unhappy Sir Tristram brought us to the tournament, and many great buffets hath he since earned us.”
At that all laughed mightily. Then said King Arthur to Tristram, “What knight was it that fought so sturdily with you—he with the silver shield?”
“Sir,” answered Tristram, “he is sitting at this table.”
“What?” cried the king. “Was it Sir Palomides?—Ah, sir, that was unknightly of you.”
“Sir,” answered Palomides, “I knew not Sir Tristram, because he was so disguised.”
“That might well be,” said Lancelot, “for I knew him not.”
“It matters not,” said Tristram, “for I have pardoned him, and I should be sorry to lose his fellowship, for I love his company.”
After that they had much pleasant converse together, and not until night did King Arthur and Sir Lancelot take their leave. On the following day, in the tournament, Sir Tristram and Palomides at first went together against King Arthur’s knights, as before, and did passing well. Sir Lancelot came in on King Arthur’s side, and great deeds he wrought; but he and his fellows were too few against the other party. When Tristram saw how nobly Arthur’s knights bore them, he called Palomides, Gareth, and Dinadan to him, and proposed that they should turn to King Arthur’s side. Gareth and Dinadan assented, but Sir Palo-mides said he would not depart from the side on which he came in.
“That is for my sake,” quoth Tristram; and so Sir Palomides left them. And Tristram and the other two went to King Arthur’s side, and then they smote down all they met, so that none could withstand them; and King Arthur himself gave Sir Palomides a fall. So the kings who held against King Arthur’s were fain to withdraw their knights.
“Alas!” cried Palomides, “now have I lost all the worship I had won;” and he rode to a well, and there put off his armour, and wept and wailed like a woman.
So the tournament was ended, and Sir Tristram would have given the chief prize to Sir Lancelot, and Sir Lancelot to Sir Tristram; but by the award of King Arthur it was divided between them.
Sir Tristram returned with his companions to his pavilions; but as Sir Palomides sat by the well, the kings of Scotland and Northgalis came by, and they got him to put on his armour again, and to ride with them. It chanced that they passed by Sir Tristram’s tents, and Sir Palomides rode to the entrance, and cried out, “Sir Tristram de Lyons, where art thou?”
“What, Sir Palomides!” answered Tristram; “will you not come in among us?”
“Fie on thee, traitor!” said Palomides. “If it were daylight, now would I slay thee with mine own hands; and if ever I meet thee, thou shalt die for this day’s deed.”
“Sir Palomides,” replied Tristram, “you blame me wrongly. Had you done as I did, you would have had worship: but since you give me warning, henceforth will I beware of you.”
“Fie on thee, traitor,” again said Palomides, and then he departed. So he went with the two kings, and Sir Tristram took his way with La Beale Isoude to Joyous Gard.
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.