“I marvel greatly at thee,” said the king, “that thou knowest not thy name; and yet thou art one of the goodliest young men that ever I saw.”
Then he called up Sir Kay the Seneschal, and charged him to give the youth meat and drink of the best, and to treat him in all respects as though he were a lord’s son.
“There is little need to go to such cost for him,” said Kay, “for I dare undertake that he is a villein born, and will never be a good man. Had he come of gentle blood, he would have asked for horse and harness; but even as he is, so hath he asked. Since he has no name, I will give him one, and that is Beaumains, because he hath such fair hands. Into the kitchen I will bring him, and there he shall have good meat and broth every day, so that by the twelvemonth’s end he will be as fat as a pork hog.”
Then the two squires that had brought the young man departed, and left him with Sir Kay, who scorned and mocked him. At this was Sir Gawaine wroth; and so was Sir Lancelot, who bade Sir Kay leave his mocking, for, said he, “I dare lay my head he will prove a man of great worship.”
“That cannot be,” said Sir Kay, “else he would not have asked for bread and drink. Pain of my life, he hath been brought up in some abbey, where they have fallen short of sustenance; so he has come for it hither.”
Then the king and all the court sat down to the banquet, and Beaumains went to the bottom of the table among the squires and boys, and there he ate sadly. Afterwards both Lancelot and Gawaine invited him to their chambers, and would have made much of him; but he refused them, and would do nothing save as Sir Kay commanded. So he was put into the kitchen, and lay every night as the scullions did; and so he endured for the whole year, and never displeased any, but was always gentle and mild. But whenever there was jousting, he would be there to see it if he could; and when there were sports for the servants of the court, he always took part, and none might cast the stone or the bar so far as he by full two yards. Then would Sir Kay say, “How like you my boy of the kitchen?”
The next Feast of Pentecost the king held at Caerleon in great state; and when he and his knights went in to meat, there came a damsel and saluted him, and prayed him for succour.
“For whom?” asked the king. “What is the adventure?”
“Sir,” said she, “there is a lady of great worship who is besieged by a tyrant, so that she may not go out of her castle; and because it is reported that here in your court are the noblest knights of the world, I am come to pray you for succour.”
“What call you the lady?” again asked the king. “Where dwelleth she, and what is his name that besieges her?”