THE BOY'S KING ARTHUR

SIR THOMAS MALORY'S HISTORY
OF
KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE

EDITED FOR BOYS
BY
SIDNEY LANIER

ILLUSTRATED BY N. C. WYETH

Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1929

Copyright, 1880, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Copyright, 1908, 1922, by
MARY DAY LANIER

Copyright, 1917, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Printed in the United States of America

In this edition of Mr. Lanier's classic "Boy's King Arthur" omission has been made of some minor passages and introductory matter—all the greater tales, those of Arthur, Launcelot, Tristram, Gareth, Galahad, Percival, and the Holy Grail, being retained.

CONTENTS

List of Illustrations

[And when they came to the sword that the hand held, King Arthur took it up]

["I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, and knight of the Round Table"]

[And lived by fruit and such as he might get]

[The lady Lyoness ... had the dwarf in examination]

["They fought with him on foot more than three hours, both before him and behind him"]

[King Mark slew the noble knight Sir Tristram as he sat harping before his lady la Belle Isolde]

[Sir Mador's spear brake all to pieces, but the other's spear held]

[He rode his way with the queen unto Joyous Gard]

[Then Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed]

BOOK I

OF KING ARTHUR

It befell in the days of the noble Utherpendragon, when he was King of England, [that there was born to him a son who in after time was King Arthur. Howbeit the boy knew not he was the king's son. For when he was but a babe] the king commanded two knights and two ladies to take the child bound in rich cloth of gold, "and deliver him to what poor man you meet at the postern gate of the castle." So the child was delivered unto Merlin, and so he bare it forth unto Sir Ector, and made an holy man to christen him, and named him Arthur; and so Sir Ector's wife nourished him. Then within two years King Uther fell sick of a great malady; [and thereof he died]. Then stood the realm in great [danger] a long while, for every lord made him strong, and many weened [thought] to have been king. [And so, by Merlin's counsel, all the lords of England came together in the greatest church of London on Christmas morn before it was day, to see if God would not show by some miracle who should be king.] And when the first mass was done there was seen in the church-yard, against the high altar, a great stone four-square, like to a marble stone, and in the midst thereof was an anvil of steel, a foot of height, and therein stuck a fair sword naked by the point, and letters of gold were written about the sword that said thus: Who so pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of England.

So when all the masses were done, all the [lords] went for to behold the stone and the sword. And when they saw the scripture, some assayed [tried] such as would have been king. But none might stir the sword nor move it.

"He is not yet here," said the archbishop, "that shall achieve the sword, but doubt not God will make him to be known. But this is my counsel," said the archbishop, "that we let purvey [provide] ten knights, men of good fame, and they to keep this sword."

And upon New Year's day the barons let make a tournament for to keep the lords together, for the archbishop trusted that God would make him known that should win the sword. So upon New Year's day when the service was done the barons rode to the field.

And so it happened that Sir Ector rode to the jousts, and with him rode Sir Kay, his son, and young Arthur that was his nourished brother. [But Sir] Kay had lost his sword, for he had left it at his father's lodging, and so he prayed young Arthur to ride for his sword. "I will with a good will," said Arthur, and rode fast after the sword; and when he came home, the lady and all were gone out to see the jousting. Then was Arthur wroth, and said to himself, "I will ride to the church-yard and take the sword with me that sticketh in the stone, for my brother Sir Kay shall not be without a sword this day." And so when he came to the church-yard Arthur alighted, and tied his horse to the stile, and so went to the tent, and found no knights there, for they were all at the jousting; and so he handled the sword by the handles, and lightly and fiercely he pulled it out of the stone, and took his horse and rode his way till he came to his brother Sir Kay, and delivered him the sword. And as soon as Sir Kay saw the sword, he wist [knew] well that it was the sword of the stone, and so he rode to his father, Sir Ector, and said: "Sir, lo here is the sword of the stone; wherefore I must be king of this land." When Sir Ector beheld the sword, he returned again and came to the church, and there they alighted, all three, and went into the church, and anon he made Sir Kay to swear upon a book how he came to that sword.

"Sir," said Sir Kay, "by my brother Arthur, for he brought it to me."

"How gate [got] you this sword?" said Sir Ector to Arthur.

"Sir, I will tell you. When I came home for my brother's sword, I found nobody at home for to deliver me his sword, and so I thought my brother Sir Kay should not be swordless, and so I came thither eagerly and pulled it out of the stone without any pain."

"Found ye any knights about this sword?" said Sir Ector.

"Nay," said Arthur.

"Now," said Sir Ector to Arthur, "I understand that you must be king of this land."

"Wherefore I?" said Arthur.

"Sir," said Ector, "for there should never man have drawn out this sword but he that shall be rightwise king of this land. Now let me see whether ye can put the sword there as it was and pull it out again."

"That is no mastery," said Arthur; and so he put it in the stone. Therewith Sir Ector assayed to pull out the sword, and failed.

"Now assay," said Sir Ector to Sir Kay. And anon he pulled at the sword with all his might but it would not be. "Now shall ye assay," said Sir Ector to Arthur.

"I will well," said Arthur, and pulled it out easily. And therewithal Sir Ector kneeled down to the earth, and Sir Kay.

"Alas," said Arthur, "mine own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to me?"

"Nay, nay, my lord Arthur, it is not so: I was never your father nor of your blood, but I wote [know] well ye are of an higher blood than I weened [thought] ye were." And then Sir Ector told him all. Then Arthur made great moan when he understood that Sir Ector was not his father.

"Sir," said Ector unto Arthur, "will ye be my good and gracious lord when ye are king?"

"Else were I to blame," said Arthur, "for ye are the man in the world that I am most beholding [obliged] to, and my good lady and mother your wife, that as well as her own hath fostered and kept me. And if ever it be God's will that I be king, as ye say, ye shall desire of me what I may do, and I shall not fail you."

"Sir," said Sir Ector, "I will ask no more of you but that you will make my son, your fostered brother Sir Kay seneschal of all your lands."

"That shall be done, sir," said Arthur, "and more by the faith of my body; and never man shall have that office but he while that he and I live."

Therewithal they went unto the archbishop, and told him how the sword was achieved, and by whom. And upon the twelfth day all the barons came thither for to assay to take the sword. But there afore them all, there might none take it out but only Arthur; wherefore there were many great lords wroth, and said, "It was great shame unto them all and the realm to be governed with a boy of no high blood born." And so they fell out at that time, that it was put off till Candlemas, and then all the barons should meet there again. But always the ten knights were ordained for to watch the sword both day and night; and so they set a pavilion over the stone and the sword, and five always watched. And at Candlemas many more great lords came thither for to have won the sword, but none of them might prevail. And right as Arthur did at Christmas he did at Candlemas, and pulled out the sword easily, whereof the barons were sore aggrieved, and put it in delay till the high feast of Easter. And as Arthur sped afore, so did he at Easter; and yet there were some of the great lords had indignation that Arthur should be their king, and put it off in delay till the feast of Pentecost.

And at the feast of Pentecost all manner of men assayed to pull at the sword that would assay, and none might prevail; but Arthur pulled it out afore all the lords and commons that were there, wherefore all the commons cried at once: "We will have Arthur unto our king; we will put him no more in delay; for we all see that it is God's will that he shall be our king, and who that holdeth against it we will slay him." And therewithal they kneeled down all at once, both rich and poor, and cried Arthur mercy, because they had delayed him so long. And Arthur forgave it them, and took the sword between both his hands, and offered it upon the altar where the archbishop was, and so was he made knight of[1] the best man that was there. And so anon was the coronation made, and there was he sworn to the lords and commons for to be a true king, to stand with true justice from thenceforth all the days of this life. Also then he made all lords that held of the crown to come in, and to do service as they ought to do. And many complaints were made unto King Arthur of great wrongs that were done since the death of King Uther, of many lands that were bereaved of lords, knights, ladies and gentlemen. Wherefore King Arthur made the lands to be given again unto them that owned them. When this was done that the king had stablished all the countries about London, then he let make Sir Kay seneschal of England; and Sir Baudwin of Britain was made constable; and Sir Ulfius was made chamberlain; and Sir Brasias was made warden to wait upon the north from Trent forwards, for it was that time for the most part enemy to the king.

Then on a day there came into the court a squire on horseback, leading a knight before him wounded to the death, and told him there was a knight in the forest that had reared up a pavilion by a well [spring] side, "and hath slain my master, a good knight, and his name was Miles; wherefore I beseech you that my master may be buried, and that some good knight may revenge my master's death." Then was in the court great noise of the knight's death, and every man said his advice. Then came Griflet, that was but a squire, and he was but young, of the age of King Arthur, so he besought the king, for all his service that he had done, to give him the order of knighthood.

"Thou art full young and tender of age," said King Arthur, "for to take so high an order upon thee."

"Sir," said Griflet, "I beseech you to make me a knight."

"Sir," said Merlin, "it were pity to leese [lose] Griflet, for he will be a passing good man when he cometh to age, abiding with you the term of his life; and if he adventure his body with yonder knight at the fountain, he shall be in great peril if[2] ever he come again, for he is one of the best knights of the world, and the strongest man of arms."

"Well," said King Arthur. So, at the desire of Griflet, the king made him knight.

"Now," said King Arthur to Sir Griflet, "sithen [since] that I have made thee knight, thou must grant me a gift."

"What ye will, my lord," said Sir Griflet.

"Thou shalt promise me, by the faith of thy body, that when thou hast jousted with the knight at the fountain, whether it fall [happen] that ye be on foot or on horseback, that in the same manner ye shall come again unto me without any question or making any more debate."

"I will promise you," said Griflet, "as ye desire." Then Sir Griflet took his horse in great haste, and dressed his shield, and took a great spear in his hand, and so he rode a great gallop till he came to the fountain, and thereby he saw a rich pavilion, and thereby under a cloth stood a fair horse well saddled and bridled, and on a tree a shield of divers colors, and a great spear. Then Sir Griflet smote upon the shield with the end of his spear, that the shield fell down to the ground.

With that came the knight out of the pavilion, and said, "Fair knight, why smote ye down my shield?"

"For I will joust with you," said Sir Griflet.

"It were better ye did not," said the knight, "for ye are but young and late made knight, and your might is nothing to mine."

"As for that," said Sir Griflet, "I will joust with you."

"That is me loth," said the knight, "but sith [since] I must needs, I will dress me thereto; but of whence be ye?" said the knight.

"Sir, I am of King Arthur's court." So they ran together that Sir Griflet's spear all to-shivered [shivered all to pieces], and therewithal he smote Sir Griflet through the shield and the left side, and brake the spear, that the truncheon stuck in his body, that horse and knight fell down.

When the knight saw him lie so on the ground he alighted, and was passing heavy, for he wend [weened] he had slain him, and then he unlaced his helm and got him wind, and so with the truncheon he set him on his horse, and betook him to God, and said he had a mighty heart, and if he might live he would prove a passing good knight. And so Sir Griflet rode to the court, whereas great moan was made for him. But through good leeches [surgeons] he was healed and his life saved.

And King Arthur was passing wroth for the hurt of Sir Griflet. And by and by he commanded a man of his chamber that his best horse and armor "be without the city or [before] to-morrow day." Right so in the morning he met with his man and his horse, and so mounted up and dressed his shield, and took his spear, and bade his chamberlain tarry there till he came again. And so King Arthur rode but a soft pace till it was day, and then was he ware of three churls which chased Merlin, and would have slain him. Then King Arthur rode unto them a good pace, and cried to them: "Flee, churls." Then were they afraid when they saw a knight, and fled away. "O Merlin," said King Arthur, "here hadst thou been slain for[3] all thy craft, had I not been."

"Nay," said Merlin, "not so, for I could save myself if I would, and thou art more near thy death than I am, for thou goest towards thy death, and[4] God be not thy friend."

So, as they went thus talking, they came to the fountain, and the rich pavilion by it. Then King Arthur was ware where a knight sat all armed in a chair. "Sir knight," said King Arthur, "for what cause abidest thou here? That there may no knight ride this way but if he do joust with thee?" said the king. "I rede [advise] thee leave that custom," said King Arthur.

"This custom," said the knight, "have I used and will use, maugre [in spite of] who saith nay; and who is grieved with my custom, let him amend it that will."

"I will amend it," said King Arthur.

"And I shall defend it," said the knight. Anon he took his horse, and dressed his shield, and took a spear, and they met so hard either on other's shield, that they all to-shivered [shivered all to pieces] their spears. Therewith King Arthur drew his sword. "Nay, not so," said the knight, "it is fairer that we twain run more together with sharp spears."

"I will well," said King Arthur, "and [if] I had any mo [more] spears."

"I have spears enough," said the knight. So there came a squire, and brought two good spears, and King Arthur took one and he another. So they spurred their horses, and came together with all their mights, that either brake their spears to their hands. Then Arthur set hand on his sword. "Nay," said the knight, "ye shall do better; ye are a passing good jouster as ever I met withal, and for the love of the high order of knighthood let us joust once again."

"I assent me," said King Arthur. Anon there were brought two great spears, and every knight gat a spear, and therewith they ran together that Arthur's spear all to-shivered. But the other knight hit him so hard in midst of the shield that horse and man fell to the earth, and therewith Arthur was eager, and pulled out his sword, and said, "I will assay thee, Sir knight, on foot, for I have lost the honor on horseback."

"I will be on horseback," said the knight. Then was Arthur wroth, and dressed his shield towards him with his sword drawn. When the knight saw that, he alight, for him thought no worship to have a knight at such avail, he to be on horseback, and he on foot, and so he alight and dressed his shield unto Arthur. And there began a strong battle with many great strokes, and so hewed with their swords that the cantels [pieces, of armor or of flesh] flew in the fields, and much blood they bled both, that all the place there as they fought was over-bled with blood, and thus they fought long, and rested them, and then they went to the battle again, and so hurtled together like two rams that either fell to the earth. So at the last they smote together, that both their swords met even together. But the sword of the knight smote King Arthur's sword in two pieces, wherefore he was heavy. Then said the knight unto Arthur, "Thou art in my danger whether me list to save thee or slay thee, and but thou yield thee as overcome and recreant thou shalt die."

"As for death," said King Arthur, "welcome be it when it cometh, but as to yield me to thee as recreant, I had liever die than to be so shamed." And there withal the king leapt unto Pellinore, and took him by the middle, and threw him down, and raced[5] off his helm. When the knight felt that, he was adread, for he was a passing big man of might, and anon he brought King Arthur under him, and raced off his helm, and would have smitten off his head.

Therewithal came Merlin, and said: "Knight, hold thy hand, for and [if] thou slay that knight, thou puttest this realm in the greatest damage that ever realm was in, for this knight is a man of more worship than thou wottest of."

"Why, who is he?" said the knight.

"It is King Arthur."

Then would he have slain him for dread of his wrath, and heaved up his sword, and therewith Merlin cast an enchantment on the knight, that he fell to the earth in a great sleep. Then Merlin took up King Arthur, and rode forth upon the knight's horse. "Alas," said King Arthur, "what hast thou done, Merlin? hast thou slain this good knight by thy crafts? There lived not so worshipful a knight as he was; I had liever than the stint [loss] of my land a year, that he were on[6] live."

"Care ye not," said Merlin, "for he is wholer than ye, for he is but on[7] sleep, and will awake within three hours. I told you," said Merlin, "what a knight he was; here had ye been slain had I not been. Also, there liveth not a better knight than he is, and he shall do you hereafter right good service, and his name is Pellinore, and he shall have two sons, that shall be passing good men."

Right so the king and he departed, and went unto an hermit that was a good man and a great leech. So the hermit searched all his wounds and gave him good salves; and the king was there three days, and then were his wounds well amended that he might ride and go. So Merlin and he departed, and as they rode, Arthur said, "I have no sword."

"No force,"[8] said Merlin, "hereby is a sword that shall be yours, and [if] I may." So they rode till they came to a lake, which was a fair water and a broad, and in the middest of the lake King Arthur was ware of an arm clothed in white samite, that held a fair sword in the hand. "Lo," said Merlin, "yonder is that sword that I spake of." With that they saw a damsel going upon the lake.

"What damsel is that?" said Arthur.

"That is the Lady of the Lake," said Merlin; "and this damsel will come to you anon, and then speak ye fair to her that she will give you that sword." Anon withal came the damsel unto Arthur and saluted him, and he her again.

"Damsel," said Arthur, "what sword is that, that yonder the arm holdeth above the water? I would it were mine, for I have no sword."

"Sir king," said the damsel, "that sword is mine, and if ye will give me a gift when I ask it you, ye shall have it."

"By my faith," said Arthur, "I will give you what gift ye will ask."

"Well," said the damsel, "go ye into yonder barge and row yourself to the sword, and take it and the scabbard with you, and I will ask my gift when I see my time."

So King Arthur and Merlin alighted and tied their horses to two trees, and so they went into the ship, and when they came to the sword that the hand held, King Arthur took it up by the handles, and took it with him. And the arm and the hand went under the water; and so they came unto the land and rode forth. And then King Arthur saw a rich pavilion: "What signifieth yonder pavilion?"

And when they came to the sword that the hand held, King Arthur took it up

"It is the knight's pavilion," said Merlin, "that ye fought with last, Sir Pellinore, but he is out, he is not there; he hath ado with a knight of yours, that hight [was named] Egglame, and they have fought together, but at the last Egglame fled, and else he had been dead, and he hath chased him to Caerleon, and we shall anon meet with him in the high way."

"It is well said," quoth King Arthur, "now have I a sword, and now will I wage battle with him and be avenged on him."

"Sir, ye shall not do so," said Merlin, "for the knight is weary of fighting and chasing, so that ye shall have no worship to have ado with him; also he will not lightly be matched of one knight living; and therefore my counsel is that ye let him pass, for he shall do you good service in short time, and his sons after his days. Also ye shall see that day in short space, that ye shall be right glad to give him your sister to wife."

"When I see him," said King Arthur, "I will do as ye advise me."

Then King Arthur looked upon the sword and liked it passing well.

"Whether liketh you better," said Merlin, "the sword or the scabbard?"

"Me liketh better the sword," said King Arthur.

"Ye are more unwise," said Merlin, "for the scabbard is worth ten of the sword, for while ye have the scabbard upon you ye shall leese [lose] no blood be ye never so sore wounded, therefore keep well the scabbard alway with you."

So they rode on to Caerleon, and by the way they met with Sir Pellinore. But Merlin had done such a craft that Pellinore saw not Arthur, and so he passed by without any words.

"I marvel," said the king, "that the knight would not speak."

"Sir," said Merlin, "he saw you not, for and [if] he had seen you he had not lightly departed."

So they came unto Caerleon, whereof the knights were passing glad; and when they heard of his adventures, they marvelled that he would jeopard his person so alone. But all men of worship said it was merry to be under such a chieftain that would put his person in adventure as other poor knights did.

It befell on a time that King Arthur said to Merlin: "My barons will let me have no rest, but needs they will have that I take a wife, and I will none take but by thy counsel and by thine advice."

"It is well done," said Merlin, "that ye take a wife, for a man of your bounty and nobleness should not be without a wife. Now is there any fair lady that ye love better than another?"

"Yea," said King Arthur, "I love Guenever, the king's daughter Leodegrance[9] of the land of Cameliard, which Leodegrance holdeth in his house the Table Round that ye told he had of my father Uther. And this damsel is the most gentlest and fairest lady that I know living, or yet that ever I could find."

And Merlin went forth to King Leodegrance of Cameliard, and told him of the desire of the king, that he would have to his wife Guenever his daughter.

"That is to me," said King Leodegrance, "the best tidings that ever I heard, that so worthy a king of prowess and of nobleness will wed my daughter. And as for my lands I will give him, wished I that it might please him, but he hath lands enough, he needeth none; but I shall send him a gift that shall please him much more, for I shall give him the Table Round, the which Utherpendragon gave me; and when it is full complete, there is an hundred knights and fifty, and as for an hundred good knights I have myself, but I lack fifty, for so many have been slain in my days."

And so King Leodegrance delivered his daughter Guenever unto Merlin, and the Table Round with the hundred knights; and so they rode freshly with great royalty, what by water and what by land, till they came that night unto London.

When King Arthur heard of the coming of Guenever and the hundred knights with the Table Round, he made great joy for their coming, and said openly, "This fair lady is passing welcome to me, for I loved her long, and therefore there is nothing so pleasing to me. And these knights with the Round Table please me more than right great riches."

Then in all haste the king did ordain for the marriage and the coronation in the most honorablest wise that could be devised.

"Now Merlin," said King Arthur, "go thou and espy me in all this land fifty knights which be of most prowess and worship."

Within short time Merlin had found such knights that should fulfil twenty and eight knights, but no more he could find. Then the bishop of Canterbury was fetched, and he blessed the sieges [seats] with great royalty and devotion, and there set the eight and twenty knights in their sieges.

And when this was done Merlin said, "Fair sirs, ye must all arise and come to King Arthur for to do him homage; he will have the better will to maintain you."

And so they arose and did their homage. And when they were gone Merlin found in every siege letters of gold that told the knights' names that had sitten therein. But two sieges were void.

"What is the cause," said King Arthur, "that there be two places void in the sieges?"

"Sir," said Merlin, "there shall no man sit in those places but they that shall be of most worship. But in the Siege Perilous there shall no man sit therein but one, and if there be any so hardy to do it he shall be destroyed, and he that shall sit there shall have no fellow."

And therewith Merlin took King Pellinore by the hand, and, in the one hand next the two sieges and the Siege Perilous, he said in open audience, "This is your place, and best ye be worthy to sit therein of any that is here."

BOOK II

OF SIR LAUNCELOT DU LAKE

Anon after that the noble and worthy King Arthur was come from Rome into England, all the knights of the Round Table resorted unto the king, and made many jousts and tournaments, and some there were that were good knights, which increased so in arms and worship that they passed all their fellows in prowess and noble deeds, and that was well proved on many, but especially it was proved on Sir Launcelot du Lake. For in all tournaments and jousts and deeds of arms, both for life and death, he passed all knights, and at no time he was never overcome, but it were by treason or enchantment. Wherefore Queen Guenever had him in great favor above all other knights, and certainly he loved the queen again above all other ladies and damsels all the days of his life, and for her he did many great deeds of arms, and saved her from the fire through his noble chivalry. Thus Sir Launcelot rested him a long while with play and game; and then he thought to prove himself in strange adventures. Then he bade his brother Sir Lionel to make him ready, "for we two will seek adventures."

So they mounted upon their horses armed at all points, and rode into a deep forest; and after they came into a great plain, and then the weather was hot about noon, and Sir Launcelot had great list [desire] to sleep.

Then Sir Lionel espied a great apple tree that stood by an hedge, and said: "Brother, yonder is a fair shadow, there may we rest us and our horses."

"It is well said, fair brother," said Sir Launcelot; "for of all this seven year I was not so sleepy as I am now."

And so they there alighted and tied their horses under sundry trees, and so Sir Launcelot laid him down under an apple tree, and his helm he laid under his head. And Sir Lionel waked while he slept. So Sir Launcelot was asleep passing fast. And in the mean while there came three knights riding, as fast fleeing as ever they might ride. And there followed them three but one knight. And when Sir Lionel saw him, him thought he saw never so great a knight nor so well faring a man, neither so well apparelled unto all rights. So within a while this strong knight had overtaken one of these knights, and there he smote him to the cold earth that he lay still. And then he rode unto the second knight, and smote him so that man and horse fell down. And then straight to the third knight he rode, and he smote him behind his horse's tail a spear's length. And then he alighted down, and reined his horse on the bridle, and bound all the three knights fast with the reins of their own bridles. When Sir Lionel saw him do thus, he thought to assay him, and made him ready, and stilly and privily he took his horse, and thought not for to awake Sir Launcelot. And when he was mounted upon his horse he overtook this strong knight and bade him turn: and the other smote Sir Lionel so hard that horse and man he bare to the earth, and so he alighted down and bound him fast, and threw him overthwart his own horse, and so he served them all four, and rode with them away to his own castle. And when he came there, he made unarm them, and beat them with thorns all naked, and after put them in a deep prison where there were many more knights that made great dolor.

When Sir Ector de Maris wist that Sir Launcelot was past out of the court to seek adventures he was wroth with himself, and made him ready to seek Sir Launcelot, and as he had ridden long in a great forest, he met with a man that was like a forester. "Fair fellow," said Sir Ector, "knowest thou in this country any adventures that be here nigh hand?"

"Sir," said the forester, "this country know I well, and hereby within this mile is a strong manor, and well diked, and by that manor, on the left hand, there is a fair ford for horses to drink of, and over that ford there groweth a fair tree, and thereon hangeth many fair shields that wielded sometime good knights: and at the hole of the tree hangeth a basin of copper and laton [brass], and strike upon that basin with the butt of thy spear thrice, and soon after thou shalt hear new tidings, and else hast thou the fairest grace that many a year had ever knight that passed through this forest."

"Gramercy," [thanks] said Sir Ector, and departed and came to the tree, and saw many fair shields, and among them he saw his brother's shield, Sir Lionel, and many more that he knew that were his fellows of the Round Table, the which grieved his heart, and he promised to revenge his brother. Then anon Sir Ector beat on the basin as he were wood [crazy], and then he gave his horse drink at the ford: and there came a knight behind him and bade him come out of the water and make him ready; and Sir Ector anon turned him shortly, and in fewter cast[10] his spear, and smote the other knight a great buffet that his horse turned twice about.

"This was well done," said the strong knight, "and knightly thou hast stricken me:" and therewith he rushed his horse on Sir Ector and caught him under his right arm, and bare him clean out of the saddle, and rode with him away into his own hall, and threw him down in the midst of the floor. The name of this knight was Sir Turquine. Then he said unto Sir Ector, "For thou hast done this day more unto me than any knight did these twelve years, now will I grant thee thy life, so thou wilt be sworn to be my prisoner all thy life-days."

"Nay," said Sir Ector, "that will I never promise thee, but that I will do mine advantage."

"That me repenteth," said Sir Turquine.

And then he made to unarm him, and beat him with thorns all naked, and after put him down in a deep dungeon, where he knew many of his fellows. But when Sir Ector saw Sir Lionel, then made he great sorrow.

"Alas, brother," said Sir Ector, "where is my brother Sir Launcelot?"

"Fair brother, I left him on sleep when that I from him went, under an apple tree, and what is become of him I cannot tell you."

"Alas," said the knights, "but Sir Launcelot help us we may never be delivered, for we know now no knight that is able to match our master Turquine."

Now leave we these knights prisoners, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du Lake that lieth under the apple tree sleeping. Even about the noon there came by him four queens of great estate; and, for the heat of the sun should not annoy them, there rode four knights about them and bare a cloth of green silk on four squares, betwixt them and the sun, and the queens rode on four white mules.

Thus as they rode they heard by them a great horse grimly neigh, and then were they ware of a sleeping knight that lay all armed under an apple tree; anon as these queens looked on his face they knew that it was Sir Launcelot. Then they began for to strive for that knight; every one said she would have him to her love.

"We shall not strive," said Morgan le Fay that was King Arthur's sister; "I shall put an enchantment upon him that he shall not awake in six hours, and then I will lead him away unto my castle, and when he is surely within my hold I shall take the enchantment from him, and then let him choose which of us he will have for his love."

So this enchantment was cast upon Sir Launcelot, and then they laid him upon his shield, and bare him so on horseback betwixt two knights, and brought him unto the castle Chariot, and there they laid him in a chamber cold, and at night they sent unto him a fair damsel with his supper ready dight. By that the enchantment was past, and when she came she saluted him, and asked him what cheer?

"I cannot say, fair damsel," said Sir Launcelot, "for I wot not how I came into this castle but it be by an enchantment."

"Sir," said she, "ye must make good cheer, and if ye be such a knight as is said ye be, I shall tell you more to-morn [to-morrow] by prime [the first hour] of the day."

"Gramercy, fair damsel," said Sir Launcelot, "of your good will I require you."

And so she departed. And there he lay all that night without comfort of anybody.

And on the morn early came these four queens, passingly well beseen, all they bidding him good morn, and he them again.

"Sir knight," the four queens said, "thou must understand thou art our prisoner, and we here know thee well, that thou art Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son. And truly we understand your worthiness that thou art the noblest knight living; and therefore thee behoveth now to choose one of us four. I am the Queen Morgan le Fay, Queen of the land of Gore, and here is the Queen of Northgalis, and the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Out Isles; now choose ye one of us which thou wilt have to thy love, for thou mayst not choose or else in this prison to die."

"This is an hard case," said Sir Launcelot, "that either I must die or else choose one of you, yet had I liever to die in this prison with worship, than to have one of you to my love maugre my head. And therefore ye be answered, for I will have none of you, for ye be false enchantresses."

"Well," said the queens, "is this your answer, that you will refuse us?"

"Yea, upon my life," said Sir Launcelot, "refused ye be of me."

So they departed, and left him there alone that made great sorrow.

Right so at noon came the damsel to him, and brought him his dinner, and asked him what cheer.

"Truly, fair damsel," said Sir Launcelot, "in all my life-days never so ill."

"Sir," said she, "that me repenteth; but and ye will be ruled by me, I shall help you out of this distress, and ye shall have no shame nor villany, so that ye hold me a promise."

"Fair damsel, that I will grant you, and sore I am afeared of these queen's witches, for they have destroyed many a good knight."

"Sir," said she, "that is sooth, and for the renown and bounty they hear of you, they would have your love, and, sir, they say that your name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the flower of all the knights that been living, and they been passing wroth with you that ye have refused them; but, sir, and ye would promise me for to help my father on Tuesday next coming, that hath made a tournament between him and the King of Northgalis; for the Tuesday last past my father lost the field through three knights of King Arthur's court, and if ye will be there upon Tuesday next coming and help my father, to-morrow or [ere] prime, by the grace of God, I shall deliver you clean."

"Fair maiden," said Sir Launcelot, "tell me what is your father's name, and then shall I give you an answer."

"Sir knight," said the damsel, "my father is King Bagdemagus, that was foully rebuked at the last tournament."

"I know your father well," said Sir Launcelot, "for a noble king and a good knight, and by the faith of my body, ye shall have my body ready to do your father and you service at that day."

"Sir," said the damsel, "gramercy, and to-morrow await that ye be ready betimes, and I shall deliver you; and take you your armor and your horse, shield, and spear; and hereby within these ten miles is an abbey of white monks, and there I pray you to abide, and thither shall I bring my father unto you."

"All this shall be done," said Sir Launcelot, "as I am a true knight."

And so she departed, and came on the morrow early and found him ready. Then she brought him out of twelve locks, and brought him unto his armor. And when he was all armed and arrayed, she brought him unto his own horse, and lightly he saddled him, and took a great spear in his hand, and so rode forth, and said, "Fair damsel, I shall not fail you, by the grace of God."

And so he rode into a great forest all that day, and in no wise could he find any highway, and so the night fell on him, and then was he ware in a slade [glade] of a pavilion of red sendall.[11] "By my faith," said Sir Launcelot, "in that pavilion will I lodge all this night." And so there he alighted down, and tied his horse to the pavilion, and there he unarmed him, and found there a rich bed and laid him therein, and anon he fell on sleep.

So thus within a while the night passed and the day appeared, and then Sir Launcelot armed him and mounted upon his horse, and took his leave, and they showed him the way towards the abbey, and thither they rode within the space of two hours.

As soon as Sir Launcelot came within the abbey yard, King Bagdemagus' daughter heard a great horse go on the pavement. And then she arose and went unto a window, and there she saw that it was Sir Launcelot, and anon she made men hastily to go to him, which took his horse and led him into a stable, and himself was led into a fair chamber, and there he unarmed him, and the lady sent to him a long gown, and anon she came herself. And then she made Sir Launcelot passing good cheer, and she said he was the knight in the world that was most welcome to her. Then she in all the haste sent for her father King Bagdemagus, that was within twelve miles of that abbey, and before even he came with a fair fellowship of knights with him. And when the king was alighted from his horse, he went straight unto Sir Launcelot's chamber, and there found his daughter, and then the king embraced Sir Launcelot in his arms, and either made other good cheer. Anon Sir Launcelot made his complaint unto the king how he was betrayed, and how his brother Sir Lionel was departed from him he wist not whither, and how his daughter had delivered him out of prison, "wherefore I shall while I live do her service and all her friends and kindred."

"Then am I sure of your help," said the king, "now on Tuesday next coming?"

"Ye, sir," said Sir Launcelot, "I shall not fail you, for so have I promised unto my lady, your daughter. As I hear say that the tournament shall be within this three mile of this abbey, ye shall send unto me three knights of yours such as ye trust, and look that the three knights have all white shields, and I also, and no painture on the shields, and we four will come out of a little wood in the midst of both parties, and we shall fall in the front of our enemies and grieve them that we may; and thus shall I not be known what knight I am." So they took their rest that night, and this was on the Sunday. And so the king departed, and sent unto Sir Launcelot three knights, with the four white shields.

And on the Tuesday they lodged them in a little leaved wood beside where the tournament should be. And there were scaffolds that lords and ladies might behold, and to give the prize. Then came into the field the King of Northgalis with eightscore helms. And then the three knights of Arthur stood by themselves. Then came into the field King Bagdemagus with fourscore of helms. And then they fewtred [placed in rest] their spears, and came together with a great dash, and there were slain of knights, at the first encounter, twelve of King Bagdemagus' party, and six of the King of Northgalis' party, and King Bagdemagus' party was far set aback.

With that came Sir Launcelot du Lake, and he thrust in with his spear in the thickest of the press, and there he smote down with one spear five knights, and of four of them he brake their backs. And in that throng he smote down the King of Northgalis, and brake his thigh in that fall. All this doing of Sir Launcelot saw the three knights of Arthur.

"Yonder is a shrewd guest," said Sir Mador de la Porte, "therefore have here once at him."

So they encountered, and Sir Launcelot bare him down horse and man, so that his shoulder went out of joint.

"Now befalleth it to me to joust," said Mordred, "for Sir Mador hath a sore fall."

Sir Launcelot was ware of him, and gat a great spear in his hand, and met him, and Sir Mordred brake a spear upon him, and Sir Launcelot gave him such a buffet that the bow of his saddle brake, and so he flew over his horse's tail, that his helm went into the earth a foot and more, that nigh his neck was broken, and there he lay long in a swoon. Then came in Sir Gahalantine with a spear, and Launcelot against him, with all their strength that they might drive, that both their spears to-brast [burst to pieces] even to their hands, and then they flung out with their swords, and gave many a grim stroke. Then was Sir Launcelot wroth out of measure, and then he smote Sir Gahalantine on the helm, that his nose burst out on blood, and ears and mouth both, and therewith his head hung low. And therewith his horse ran away with him, and he fell down to the earth.

Anon therewithal Sir Launcelot gat a great spear in his hand, and, or [ere] ever that great spear brake, he bare down to the earth sixteen knights, some horse and man, and some the man and not the horse, and there was none but that he hit surely. He bare none arms [no device to be known by] that day. And then he gat another great spear, and smote down twelve knights, and the most part of them never throve after. And then the knights of the King of Northgalis would joust no more, and there the prize was given unto King Bagdemagus. So either party departed unto his own place, and Sir Launcelot rode forth with King Bagdemagus unto his castle, and there he had passing good cheer both with the king and with his daughter, and they proffered him great gifts. And on the morn he took his leave, and told King Bagdemagus that he would go and seek his brother Sir Lionel, that went from him when that he slept. So he took his horse, and betaught [commended] them all to God. And there he said unto the king's daughter, "If ye have need any time of my service, I pray you let me have knowledge, and I shall not fail you, as I am a true knight."

And so Sir Launcelot departed, and by adventure he came into the same forest where he was taken sleeping. And in the midst of an highway he met a damsel riding on a white palfrey, and there either saluted other.

"Fair damsel," said Sir Launcelot, "know ye in this country any adventures?"

"Sir knight," said that damsel, "here are adventures near hand, and [if] thou durst prove them."

"Why should I not prove adventures?" said Sir Launcelot; "for that cause came I hither."

"Well," said she, "thou seemest well to be a good knight, and if thou dare meet with a good knight, I shall bring thee where is the best knight and the mightiest that ever thou foundest, so thou wilt tell me what is thy name, and what knight thou art."

"Damsel, as for to tell thee my name, I take no great force: truly, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake."

"I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, and knight of the Round Table"

"Sir, thou beseemest well, here be adventures by that fall for thee, for hereby dwelleth a knight that will not be overmatched for no man that I know, unless ye overmatch him, and his name is Sir Turquine. And, as I understand, he hath in his prison of Arthur's court good knights threescore and four that he hath won with his own hands. But when ye have done that day's work ye shall promise me as ye are a true knight for to go with me, and to help me and other damsels that are distressed daily with a false knight."

"All your intent, damsel, and desire I will fulfil, so ye will bring me unto this knight."

"Now, fair knight, come on your way."

And so she brought him unto the ford, and unto the tree where hung the basin. So Sir Launcelot let his horse drink, and then he beat on the basin with the butt of his spear so hard with all his might till the bottom fell out, and long he did so, but he saw nothing. Then he rode along the gates of that manor nigh half an hour. And then was he ware of a great knight that drove an horse afore him, and overthwart the horse there lay an armed knight bound. And ever as they came near and near, Sir Launcelot thought he should know him; then Sir Launcelot was ware that it was Sir Gaheris, Gawaine's brother, a knight of the Table Round.

"Now, fair damsel," said Sir Launcelot, "I see yonder cometh a knight fast bound that is a fellow of mine, and brother he is unto Sir Gawaine. And at the first beginning I promise you, by the leave of God, to rescue that knight; and unless his master sit better in the saddle I shall deliver all the prisoners that he hath out of danger, for I am sure that he hath two brethren of mine prisoners with him."

By that time that either had seen other they gripped their spears unto them.

"Now, fair knight," said Sir Launcelot, "put that wounded knight off the horse, and let him rest awhile, and let us two prove our strengths. For as it is informed me, thou doest and hast done great despite and shame unto knights of the Round Table, and therefore now defend thee."

"And [if] thou be of the Table Round," said Turquine, "I defy thee and all thy fellowship."

"That is overmuch said," said Sir Launcelot.

And then they put their spears in the rests, and came together with their horses as fast as they might run, and either smote other in the midst of their shields, that both their horses' backs brast under them, and the knights were both astonied, and as soon as they might avoid their horses they took their shields afore them, and drew out their swords, and came together eagerly, and either gave other many strong strokes, for there might neither shields nor harness hold their strokes. And so within a while they had both grimly wounds, and bled passing grievously. Thus they fared two hours or more, trasing and rasing [feinting and thrusting] either other where they might hit any bare place. Then at the last they were breathless both, and stood leaning on their swords.

"Now, fellow," said Sir Turquine, "hold thy hand awhile, and tell me what I shall ask thee."

"Say on."

Then Turquine said, "Thou art the biggest man that ever I met withal, and the best breathed, and like one knight that I hate above all other knights; so be it that thou be not he I will lightly accord with thee, and for thy love I will deliver all the prisoners that I have, that is threescore and four, so thou wilt tell me thy name. And thou and I will be fellows together, and never to fail the while that I live."

"It is well said," said Sir Launcelot, "but since it is so that I may have thy friendship, what knight is he that thou so hatest above all other?"

"Truly," said Sir Turquine, "his name is Launcelot du Lake, for he slew my brother Sir Carados at the Dolorous Tower, which was one of the best knights then living, and therefore him I except of all knights, for and [if] I may once meet with him, that one of us shall make an end of another, and do that I make a vow. And for Sir Launcelot's sake I have slain an hundred good knights, and as many I have utterly maimed, that never after they might help themselves, and many have died in my prison, and yet I have threescore and four, and all shall be delivered, so that thou wilt tell me thy name, and so it be that thou be not Sir Launcelot."

"Now see I well," said Sir Launcelot, "that such a man I might be I might have peace, and such a man I might be there should be between us two mortal war; and now, sir knight, at thy request, I will that thou wit and know that I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, and knight of the Round Table. And now I defy thee do thy best."

"Ah!" said Sir Turquine, "Launcelot, thou art unto me most welcome, as ever was any knight, for we shall never depart till the one of us be dead."

And then hurtled they together as two wild bulls, rashing and lashing with their shields and swords, that sometime they fell both on their noses. Thus they fought still two hours and more, and never would rest, and Sir Turquine gave Sir Launcelot many wounds that all the ground there as they fought was all besprinkled with blood.

Then at last Sir Turquine waxed very faint, and gave somewhat back, and bare his shield full low for weariness. That soon espied Sir Launcelot, and then leaped upon him fiercely as a lion, and got him by the banner of his helmet, and so he plucked him down on his knees, and anon he rased [tore off] his helm, and then he smote his neck asunder.

So on the third day he rode over a long bridge, and there started upon him suddenly a passing foul churl, and he smote his horse on the nose that he turned about, and asked him why he rode over that bridge without his license.

"Why should I not ride this way?" said Sir Launcelot. "I may not ride beside."

"Thou shalt not choose," said the churl, and lashed at him with a great club shod with iron. Then Sir Launcelot drew a sword, and put the stroke aback, and clave his head unto the breast. At the end of the bridge was a fair village, and all the people men and women cried on Sir Launcelot, and said, "A worse deed didst thou never for thyself, for thou hast slain the chief porter of our castle."

Sir Launcelot let them say what they would, and straight he went into the castle; and when he came into the castle he alighted, and tied his horse to a ring on the wall; and there he saw a fair green court, and thither he dressed himself, for there him thought was a fair place to fight in. So he looked about, and saw much people in doors and windows, that said, "Fair knight, thou art unhappy."

Anon withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed all save the heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands. Sir Launcelot put his shield afore him, and put the stroke away of the one giant, and with his sword he clave his head asunder. When his fellow saw that, he ran away as he were wood [crazy], for fear of the horrible strokes, and Sir Launcelot after him with all his might, and smote him on the shoulder, and clave him to the middle. Then Sir Launcelot went into the hall, and there came afore him threescore ladies and damsels, and all kneeled unto him, and thanked God and him of their deliverance.

"For, sir," said they, "the most part of us have been here this seven year their prisoners, and we have worked all manner of silk works for our meat, and we are all great gentlewomen born, and blessed be the time, knight, that ever thou wert born; for thou hast done the most worship that ever did knight in the world, that will we bear record, and we all pray you to tell us your name, that we may tell our friends who delivered us out of prison."

"Fair damsels," he said, "my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake."

"Ah, sir," said they all, "well mayest thou be he, for else save yourself, as we deemed, there might never knight have the better of these two giants, for many fair knights have assayed it, and here have ended, and many times have we wished after you, and these two giants dread never knight but you."

"Now may ye say," said Sir Launcelot, "unto your friends, how and who hath delivered you, and greet them all from me, and if that I come in any of your marches [boundaries] show me such cheer as ye have cause; and what treasure that there is in this castle I give it you for a reward for your grievance: and the lord that is the owner of this castle I would that he received it as is right."

"Fair sir," said they, "the name of this castle is Tintagil and a duke owned it some time that had wedded fair Igraine, and after wedded her Utherpendragon."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "I understand to whom this castle belongeth."

And so he departed from them and betaught [commended] them unto God. And then he mounted upon his horse, and rode into many strange and wild countries and through many waters and valleys, and evil was he lodged. And at the last by fortune him happened against a night to come to a fair curtilage [enclosure], and therein he found an old gentlewoman that lodged him with a good will, and there he had good cheer for him and his horse. And when time was, his host brought him into a fair garret over the gate to his bed. There Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and set his harness by him, and went to bed, and anon he fell on sleep. So soon after there came one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in great haste. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he arose up, and looked out at the window, and saw by the moonlight three knights came riding after one man, and all three lashed on him at once with swords, and that one knight turned on them knightly again and defended him.

"Truly," said Sir Launcelot, "yonder one knight shall I help, for it were shame for me to see three knights on one, and if he be slain I am partner of his death."

And therewith he took his harness and went out at a window by a sheet down to the four knights, and then Sir Launcelot said on high [in a loud voice], "Turn you knights unto me, and leave your fighting with that knight."

And then they all three left Sir Kay, and turned unto Sir Launcelot, and there began great battle, for they alighted all three, and struck many great strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed him on every side. Then Sir Kay dressed him for to have holpen Sir Launcelot.

"Nay, sir," said he, "I will none of your help, therefore as ye will have my help let me alone with them."

Sir Kay for the pleasure of the knight suffered him to do his will, and so stood aside. And then anon within six strokes Sir Launcelot had stricken them to the earth.

And then they all three cried, "Sir knight, we yield us unto you as man of might matchless."

"As to that," said Sir Launcelot, "I will not take your yielding unto me, but so that ye yield you unto Sir Kay the seneschal; on that covenant I will save your lives and else not."

"Fair knight," said they, "that were we loath to do; for as for Sir Kay we chased him hither, and had overcome him had not ye been; therefore to yield us unto him it were no reason."

"Well, as to that," said Sir Launcelot, "advise you well, for ye may choose whether ye will die or live, for and [if] ye be yielden it shall be unto Sir Kay."

"Fair knight," then they said, "in saving our lives we will do as thou commandest us."

"Then shall ye," said Sir Launcelot, "on Whitsunday next coming go unto the court of King Arthur, and there shall ye yield you unto Queen Guenever, and put you all three in her grace and mercy, and say that Sir Kay sent you thither to be her prisoners."

"Sir," they said, "it shall be done by the faith of our bodies, and we be living."

And there they swore, every knight upon his sword. And so Sir Launcelot suffered them so to depart. And then Sir Launcelot knocked at the gate with the pommel of his sword, and with that came his host, and in they entered, Sir Kay and he.

"Sir," said his host, "I wend ye had been in your bed."

"So I was," said Sir Launcelot, "but I arose and leaped out at my window for to help an old fellow of mine."

And so when they came nigh the light Sir Kay knew well that it was Sir Launcelot, and therewith he kneeled down and thanked him of all his kindness that he hath holpen him twice from the death.

"Sir," he said, "I have done nothing but that I ought to do, and ye are welcome, and here shall ye repose you and take your rest."

So when Sir Kay was unarmed he asked after meat, so there was meat fetched him, and he ate strongly. And when he had supped they went to their beds, and were lodged together in one bed. On the morn Sir Launcelot arose early, and left Sir Kay sleeping: and Sir Launcelot took Sir Kay's armor and his shield and armed him: and so he went to the stable and took his horse, and took his leave of his host, and so he departed. Then soon after arose Sir Kay and missed Sir Launcelot: and then he espied that he had his armor and his horse.

"Now, by my faith, I know well that he will grieve some of King Arthur's court: for on him knights will be bold, and deem that it is I, and that will beguile them; and because of his armor and shield, I am sure that I shall ride in peace." And then soon after departed Sir Kay, and thanked his host.

Now let us speak of Sir Launcelot, that rode a great while in a deep forest, where he saw a black brachet [small hound], seeking in manner as it had been in the fealty [track] of an hurt deer, and therewith he rode after the brachet; and he saw lie on the ground a large fealty of blood, and then Sir Launcelot rode after, and ever the brachet looked behind her. And so she went through a great marish [marsh], and ever Sir Launcelot followed; and then was he ware of an old manor, and thither ran the brachet, and so over the bridge. So Sir Launcelot rode over the bridge, that was old and feeble. And when he came into the midst of a great hall, there saw he lie a dead knight, that was a seemly man, and that brachet licked his wounds. And therewith came out a lady weeping and wringing her hands, and she said, "O knight, too much sorrow hast thou brought me."

"Why say ye so?" said Sir Launcelot, "I did never this knight no harm, for hither by track of blood this brachet brought me; and therefore, fair lady, be not displeased with me, for I am full sore aggrieved of your grievance."

"Truly, sir," she said, "I trow it be not ye that have slain my husband, for he that did that deed is sore wounded, and he is never likely to recover, that shall I ensure him."

"What was your husband's name?" said Sir Launcelot.

"Sir," said she, "his name was called Sir Gilbert, one of the best knights of the world, and he that hath slain him I know not his name."

"Now God send you better comfort," said Sir Launcelot.

And so he departed and went into the forest again, and there he met with a damsel, the which knew him well, and she said aloud, "Well be ye found, my lord; and now I require thee on thy knighthood help my brother that is sore wounded, and never stinteth bleeding, for this day fought he with Sir Gilbert and slew him in plain battle, and there was my brother sore wounded, and there is a lady a sorceress that dwelleth in a castle here beside, and this day she told me my brother's wounds should never be whole till I could find a knight that would go into the Chapel Perilous, and there he should find a sword and a bloody cloth that the wounded knight was lapped in, and a piece of that cloth and sword should heal my brother's wounds, so that his wounds were searched [touched] with the sword and the cloth."

"This is a marvellous thing," said Sir Launcelot, "but what is your brother's name?"

"Sir," said she, "his name is Sir Meliot de Logres."

"That me repenteth," said Sir Launcelot, "for he is a fellow of the Table Round, and to his help I will do my power."

"Then, sir," said she, "follow even this highway, and it will bring you unto the Chapel Perilous, and here I shall abide till God send you here again, and but you speed I know no knight living that may achieve that adventure."

Right so Sir Launcelot departed, and when he came unto the Chapel Perilous he alighted down, and tied his horse to a little gate. And as soon as he was within the church-yard he saw on the front of the chapel many fair rich shields turned up so down [upside down], and many of the shields Sir Launcelot had seen knights bear beforehand. With that he saw by him stand there thirty great knights, more by a yard than any man that ever he had seen, and all those grinned and gnashed at Sir Launcelot. And when he saw their countenance he dread him sore, and so put his shield afore him, and took his sword in his hand ready unto battle; and they were all armed in black harness, ready with their shields and their swords drawn. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone throughout them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him the way, and therewith he waxed all bold and entered into the chapel, and then he saw no light but a dim lamp burning, and then was he ware of a corpse covered with a cloth of silk. Then Sir Launcelot stooped down and cut a piece away of that cloth, and then it fared under him as the earth had quaked a little; therewithal he feared. And then he saw a fair sword lie by the dead knight, and that he gat in his hand and hied him out of the chapel. Anon as ever he was in the chapel-yard all the knights spake to him with a grimly voice, and said, "Knight, Sir Launcelot, lay that sword from thee, or else thou shalt die."

"Whether I live or die," said Sir Launcelot, "will no great word get it again, therefore fight for it and ye list."

Then right so he passed throughout them, and beyond the chapel-yard there met him a fair damsel, and said, "Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou wilt die for it."

"I leave it not," said Sir Launcelot, "for no entreaties."

"No," said she, "and thou didst leave that sword, Queen Guenever should ye never see."

"Then were I a fool and I would leave this sword," said Launcelot.

"Now, gentle knight," said the damsel, "I require thee to kiss me but once."

"Nay," said Sir Launcelot, "that God me forbid."

"Well, sir," said she, "and thou hadst kissed me thy life-days had been done, but now alas," she said, "I have lost all my labor, for I ordained this chapel for thy sake. And, Sir Launcelot, now I tell thee, I have loved thee this seven year. But since I may not have [thee] alive, I had kept no more joy in this world but to have [thee] dead. Then would I have balmed [thee] and preserved [thee], and so have kept [thee] my life-days, and daily I should have kissed thee."

"Ye say well," said Sir Launcelot, "God preserve me from your subtle crafts."

And therewithal he took his horse and so departed from her. And when Sir Launcelot was departed she took such sorrow that she died within a fourteen night [fortnight], and her name was Hellawes the sorceress, lady of the castle Nigramous. Anon Sir Launcelot met with the damsel, Sir Meliot's sister. And when she saw him she clapped her hands and wept for joy, and then they rode unto a castle thereby, where Sir Meliot lay. And anon as Sir Launcelot saw him he knew him, but he was pale as the earth for bleeding. When Sir Meliot saw Sir Launcelot, he kneeled upon his knees and cried on high: "O lord Sir Launcelot help me!" Anon Sir Launcelot leaped unto him, and touched his wounds with Sir Gilbert's sword, and then he wiped his wounds with a part of the bloody cloth that Sir Gilbert was wrapped in, and anon a wholer man in his life was he never. And then there was great joy between them, and they made Sir Launcelot all the cheer that they might, and so on the morn Sir Launcelot took his leave, and bade Sir Meliot hie him to the court of my lord Arthur, "for it draweth nigh to the feast of Pentecost, and there, by the grace of God, ye shall find me." And therewith they departed.

Sir Launcelot came home two days afore the feast of Pentecost. And King Arthur and all the court were full glad of his coming. And when Sir Gawaine, Sir Ewaine, Sir Sagramor, and Sir Ector de Maris saw Sir Launcelot in Sir Kay's armor, then they wist well it was he that smote them down all with one spear. Then there was laughing and smiling among them. And ever now and then came all the knights home that Sir Turquine had taken prisoners, and they all honored and worshipped Sir Launcelot. When Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said: "I saw all the battle, from the beginning to the ending."

And there he told King Arthur all how it was, and how Sir Turquine was the strongest knight that ever he saw except Sir Launcelot; there were many knights bare him record, nigh threescore. Then Sir Kay told the king how Sir Launcelot had rescued him when he was in danger to have been slain, and how "he made the knights to yield them to me, and not to him." And there they were, all three, and bare record. "And," said Sir Kay, "because Sir Launcelot took my harness, and left me his, I rode in good peace, and no man would have to do with me." Then anon therewithal came the three knights that fought with Sir Launcelot at the long bridge, and there they yielded them unto Sir Kay, and Sir Kay forsook them, and said he fought never with them; "but I shall ease your hearts," said Sir Kay, "yonder is Sir Launcelot that overcame you." When they understood that, they were glad. And then Sir Meliot de Logres came home, and told King Arthur how Sir Launcelot had saved him from the death. And all his deeds were known, how four queens, sorceresses, had him in prison, and how he was delivered by King Bagdemagus' daughter. Also there were told all the great deeds of arms that Sir Launcelot did betwixt the two kings, that is to say, the King of Northgalis and King Bagdemagus. All the truth Sir Gahalatine did tell, and Sir Mador de la Porte, and Sir Mordred, for they were at that same tournament. Then came in the lady that knew Sir Launcelot when that he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion. And there at the request of Sir Launcelot, Sir Belleus was made knight of the Round Table.

And so at that time Sir Launcelot had the greatest name of any knight of the world, and most he was honored of high and low.

[On a day, that might be a matter of two years before that feast of Pentecost whereof it will be told in the Book of Sir Tristram, it happened that Queen Guenever was angered with Sir Launcelot, yet truly for no fault of his, but only because a certain enchantress had wrought that Sir Launcelot seemed to have shamed his knighthood.

Then the queen was nigh out of her wit, and then she writhed and weltered as a mad woman; and at the last the queen met with Sir Launcelot, and thus she said,] "False traitor knight that thou art, look thou never abide in my court, and not so hardy, thou false traitor knight that thou art, that ever thou come in my sight."

"Alas!" said Sir Launcelot: and therewith he took such an heartly sorrow at her words that he fell down to the floor in a swoon. And therewithal Queen Guenever departed. And when Sir Launcelot awoke of his swoon he leaped out at a bay window into a garden, and there with thorns he was all to-scratched in his visage and his body, and so he ran forth he wist not whither, and was wild wood [insane] as ever was man.

"Wit ye well," said dame Elaine[12] to Sir Bors, "I would lose my life for him rather than he should be hurt; but alas, I cast me never for to see him; and the chief causer of this is dame Guenever."

"Madam," said dame Brisen, the which had made the enchantment before betwixt Sir Launcelot and her, "I pray you heartily let Sir Bors depart and hie him with all his might, as fast as he may, to seek Sir Launcelot. For I warn you he is clean out of his mind, and yet he shall be well holpen, and but by miracle."

Then wept dame Elaine, and so did Sir Bors de Ganis, and so they departed; and Sir Bors rode straight unto Queen Guenever, and when she saw Sir Bors she wept as she were wood.

"Fie on your weeping," said Sir Bors, "for ye weep never but when there is no boot. Alas!" said Sir Bors, "that ever Sir Launcelot's kin saw you. For now have ye lost the best knight of our blood, and he that was all our leader and our succor. And I dare say and make it good, that all kings, Christian nor heathen, may not find such a knight, for to speak of his nobleness and courtesy with his beauty and his gentleness. Alas," said Sir Bors, "what shall we do that be of his blood?"

"Alas!" said Sir Ector de Maris.

"Alas!" said Sir Lionel.

And when the queen heard them say so, she fell to the ground in a deadly sound [swoon]; and then Sir Bors took her, and [roused] her, and when she was come to herself again she kneeled afore the three knights, and held up both her hands, and besought them to seek him, and not to spare for no goods but that he be found, "for I wot well he is out of his mind." And Sir Bors, Sir Ector, Sir Lionel, departed from the queen, for they might not abide no longer for sorrow: and then the queen sent them treasure enough for their expenses, and so they took their horses and their armor, and departed. And then they rode from country to country, in forests and in wildernesses and in wastes, and ever they laid watch as well both at forests and at all manner of men as they rode, to hearken and to inquire after him, as he that was a naked man in his shirt, with a sword in his hand. And thus they rode well nigh a quarter of a year, endlong and overthwart,[13] in many places, forests and wildernesses, and oftentimes were evil lodged for his sake, and yet for all their labor and seeking could they never hear word of him. And wit ye well these three knights were passing sorry.

Then Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramor le Desirous, Sir Agloval, and Sir Percival de Galis, took upon them by the great desire of King Arthur, and in especial by the queen, to seek throughout all England, Wales, and Scotland, to find Sir Launcelot. And with them rode eighteen knights more to bear them fellowship. And wit ye well they lacked no manner of spending: and so were they three and twenty knights.

And thus as these noble knights rode together, they by one assent departed, and then they rode by two, by three, and by four, and by five; and ever they assigned where they should meet.

And now leave we a little of Sir Ector and Sir Percival, and speak we of Sir Launcelot, that suffered and endured many sharp showers, which ever ran wild wood, from place to place, and lived by fruit and such as he might get, and drank water, two years; and other clothing had he but little, save his shirt and his breeches. And thus, as Sir Launcelot wandered here and there, he came into a fair meadow where he found a pavilion, and there upon a tree hung a white shield and two swords hung thereby, and two spears there leaned against a tree; and when Sir Launcelot saw the swords, anon he leaped to the one sword, and took it in his hand, and drew it out, and then he lashed at the shield that all the meadow rang of the dints that he gave with such a noise as ten knights had fought together. Then there came forth a dwarf, and leaped unto Sir Launcelot, and would have had the sword out of his hand; and then Sir Launcelot took him by both the shoulders and threw him to the ground upon his neck, that he had almost broken his neck; and therewithal the dwarf cried for help. Then came forth a likely knight, and well apparelled in scarlet, furred with miniver. And anon as he saw Sir Launcelot, he deemed that he should be out of his wit: and then he said with fair speech, "Good man, lay down that sword, for, as me seemeth, thou hast more need of sleep, and of warm clothes, than to wield that sword."

And lived by fruit and such as he might get

"As for that," said Sir Launcelot, "come not too nigh; for, and thou do, wit thou well I will slay thee."

And when the knight of the pavilion saw that, he started backward within the pavilion. And then the dwarf armed him lightly, and so the knight thought by force and might to take the sword from Sir Launcelot, and so he came stepping out, and when Sir Launcelot saw him come so all armed with his sword in his hand, then Sir Launcelot flew to him with such a might and hit him upon the helm such a buffet that the stroke troubled his brains, and therewith the sword brake in three. And the knight fell to the earth as he had been dead, the blood bursting out of his mouth, nose, and ears. And then Sir Launcelot ran into the pavilion, and rushed even into the warm bed.

Then the knight awaked out of his swoon, and looked up weakly with his eyes, and then he asked where was that mad man that had given him such a buffet? "for such a buffet had I never of man's hand."

"Sir," said the dwarf, "it is not worship to hurt him, for he is a man out of his wit, and doubt ye not he hath been a man of great worship, and for some heartly sorrow that he hath taken he is fallen mad; and me seemeth he resembleth much unto Sir Launcelot; for him I saw at the great tournament beside Lonazep."

"Jesu defend," said that knight, "that ever that noble knight Sir Launcelot should be in such a plight. But whatsoever he be, harm will I none do him."

And this knight's name was Sir Bliant. Then he said unto the dwarf, "Go thou in all haste on horseback unto my brother Sir Seliaunt, that is at the Castle Blanche, and tell him of mine adventure, and bid him bring with him an horse-litter and then will we bear this knight unto my castle."

So the dwarf rode fast, and came again, and brought Sir Seliaunt with him, and six men with an horse-litter; and so they took up the feather-bed with Sir Launcelot, and so carried all with them to the Castle Blanche, and he never wakened until he was within the castle; and then they bound his hands and his feet, and gave him good meats and good drinks, and brought him again to his strength and his fairness; but in his wit they could not bring him again, nor to know himself. Thus Sir Launcelot was there more than a year and a half.

Then upon a day this lord of that castle, Sir Bliant, took his arms on horseback with a spear to seek adventures, and as he rode in a forest there met him two knights adventurous; the one was Sir Breuse sans Pitie, and his brother Sir Bertlot. And these two ran both at once upon Sir Bliant, and brake both their spears upon his body, and then they drew out their swords and made a great battle and fought long together; but at the last Sir Bliant was sore wounded, and felt himself faint, and then he fled on horseback towards his castle. And as they came hurling under the castle, where Sir Launcelot lay in a window and saw two knights laid upon Sir Bliant with their swords, and when Sir Launcelot saw that, yet as wood [crazy] as he was, he was sorry for his lord Sir Bliant; and then Sir Launcelot brake his chains from his legs.

And so Sir Launcelot ran out at a postern, and there he met with the two knights that chased Sir Bliant, and there he pulled down Bertlot with his bare hands from his horse, and therewithal he writhed his sword out of his hands, and so he leaped unto Sir Breuse, and gave him such a buffet upon the head that he tumbled backward over his horse's crupper. And when Sir Bertlot saw his brother have such a fall, he gat a spear in his hand, and would have run Sir Launcelot through. That saw Sir Bliant, and struck off the hand of Sir Bertlot; and then Sir Breuse and Sir Bertlot gat their horses and fled away. When Sir Seliaunt came, and saw what Sir Launcelot had done for his brother, then he thanked God, and so did his brother, that ever they did him any good. But when Sir Bliant saw that Sir Launcelot was hurt with the breaking of his chains, then he was sorry that he had bound him. "Bind him no more," said Sir Seliaunt, "for he is happy and gracious." Then they made great joy of Sir Launcelot, and they bound him no more; and so he abode there half a year and more. And in a morning early Sir Launcelot was ware where came a great boar, with many hounds nigh him; but the boar was so big that there might no hounds tear him, and the hunters came after blowing their horns both on horseback and on foot; and at the last Sir Launcelot was ware where one of them alighted and tied his horse to a tree, and leaned his spear against the tree.

So came Sir Launcelot and found the horse bound to a tree, and a spear leaning against a tree, and a sword tied unto the saddle-bow. And then Sir Launcelot leaped into the saddle, and gat that spear in his hand, and then he rode after the boar; and then Sir Launcelot was ware where the boar set his back to a tree, fast by an hermitage. Then Sir Launcelot ran at the boar with his spear. And therewith the boar turned him nimbly, and rove [gashed] out the lungs and the heart of the horse, so that Sir Launcelot fell to the earth, and or ever Sir Launcelot might get from the horse, the boar rove him on the brawn of the thigh, up to the hough bone. And then Sir Launcelot was wroth, and up he gat upon his feet, and drew his sword, and he smote off the boar's head at one stroke. And therewithal came out the hermit, and saw him have such a wound; then the hermit came to Sir Launcelot and bemoaned him, and would have had him home unto his hermitage. But when Sir Launcelot heard him speak, he was so wroth with his wound that he ran upon the hermit to have slain him, and the hermit ran away, and when Sir Launcelot might not overget him he threw his sword after him, for Sir Launcelot might go no farther for bleeding. Then the hermit turned again, and asked Sir Launcelot how he was hurt.

"Fellow," said Sir Launcelot, "this boar hath bitten me sore."

"Then come with me," said the hermit, "and I shall heal you."

"Go thy way," said Sir Launcelot, "and deal not with me."

Then the hermit ran his way, and there he met with a good knight with many men.

"Sir," said the hermit, "here is fast by my place the goodliest man that ever I saw, and he is sore wounded with a boar, and yet he hath slain the boar. But well I wot and he be not holpen, that goodly man shall die of that wound, and that were great pity."

Then that knight, at the desire of the hermit, gat a cart, and in that cart that knight put the boar and Sir Launcelot, for Sir Launcelot was so feeble that they might right easily deal with him. And so Sir Launcelot was brought unto the hermitage, and there the hermit healed him of his wound. But the hermit might not find Sir Launcelot's sustenance, and so he impaired and waxed feeble, both of his body and of his wit, for the default of his sustenance, and waxed more wood than he was aforehand. And then, upon a day, Sir Launcelot ran his way into the forest; and by adventure came into the city of Corbin, where dame Elaine was.

And so when he was entered into the town, he ran through the town to the castle; and then all the young men of the city ran after Sir Launcelot, and there they threw turfs at him, and gave him many sad strokes; and as Sir Launcelot might reach any of them, he threw them so that they would never more come in his hands, for of some he brake their legs, and some their arms, and so fled into the castle. And then came out knights and squires for to rescue Sir Launcelot, and when they beheld him and looked upon his person, they thought they saw never so goodly a man; and when they saw so many wounds upon him, they all deemed that he had been a man of worship. And then they ordained clothes unto his body, and straw underneath him, and a little house, and then every day they would throw him meat, and set him drink, but there were few or none that would bring meat to his hands.

So it befell that King Pelles had a nephew whose name was Castor, and he desired of the king his uncle for to be made knight; and so at the request of this Castor, the king made him knight at the feast of Candlemas. And when Castor was made knight, that same day he gave many gowns; and so Sir Castor sent for the fool, that was Sir Launcelot, and when [Sir Launcelot] saw his time, he went into the garden and there laid him down by a well and slept. And in the afternoon dame Elaine and her maidens went into the garden for to play them; and as they roamed up and down, one of dame Elaine's maidens espied where lay a goodly man by the well sleeping, and anon showed him to dame Elaine.

"Peace," said dame Elaine, "and say no word."

And then she brought dame Elaine where he lay. And when that she beheld him, anon she fell in remembrance of him, and knew him verily for Sir Launcelot, and therewithal she fell on weeping so heartily that she sank even to the earth. And when she had thus wept a great while, then she arose and called her maidens, and said she was sick. And so she went out of the garden, and she went straight to her father, and there she took him apart by himself, and then she said, "O father, now have I need of your help, and but if that ye help me, farewell my good days for ever."

"What is that, daughter?" said King Pelles.

"Sir," she said, "thus is it: in your garden I went for to sport, and there by the well I found Sir Launcelot du Lake sleeping."

"I may not believe that," said King Pelles.

"Sir," she said, "truly he is there, and me seemeth he should be distract out of his wit."

"Then hold you still," said the king, "and let me deal."

Then the king called to him such as he most trusted, four persons, and dame Elaine his daughter. And when they came to the well and beheld Sir Launcelot, anon dame Brisen knew him.

"Sir," said dame Brisen, "we must be wise how we deal with him, for this knight is out of his mind, and if we awake him rudely, what he will do we all know not. But ye shall abide, and I shall throw such an enchantment upon him that he shall not awake within the space of an hour."

And so she did. Then within a little while after King Pelles commanded that all people should avoid [leave], that none should be in that way there as the king would come. And so when this was done, these four men and these ladies laid hand on Sir Launcelot. And so they bare him into a tower, and so into the chamber where as was the [Holy Grail], and by force Sir Launcelot was laid by that holy vessel; and then there came an holy man and uncovered the vessel, and so by miracle, and by virtue of that holy vessel, Sir Launcelot was all healed and recovered. And when he was awaked, he groaned, and sighed sore, and complained greatly that he was passing sore.

And when Sir Launcelot saw King Pelles and dame Elaine, he waxed ashamed, and thus he said, "O good Lord Jesu, how came I here? for God's sake, my lord, let me wit how I came here."

"Sir," said dame Elaine, "into this country ye came like a mad man all out of your wit, and here ye have been kept as a fool, and no creature here knew what ye were till that by fortune a maid of mine brought me unto you where as ye lay sleeping by a well side, and anon as I verily beheld you I knew you; and then I told my father, and so ye were brought before this holy vessel, and by the virtue of it thus were ye healed."

"O Jesu, mercy!" said Sir Launcelot, "if this be sooth, how many be there that know of my woodness?"

"So God me help," said dame Elaine, "no moe [more] but my father and I and dame Brisen."

"Now for Christ's love," said Sir Launcelot, "keep it secret, and let no man know it in the world, for I am sore ashamed that I have been thus miscarried, for I am banished out of the country of Logris for ever, that is for to say the country of England."

And so Sir Launcelot lay more than a fortnight, or ever that he might stir for soreness.

And then after this King Pelles with ten knights, and dame Elaine and twenty ladies, rode unto the castle of Bliant, that stood in an island enclosed in iron, with a fair water, deep and large. And when they were there Sir Launcelot let call it the Joyous Isle, and there was he called none otherwise but Le Chevalier Mal Fait, the knight that hath trespassed. Then Sir Launcelot let make him a shield all of sable, and a queen crowned in the midst all of silver, and a knight, clean armed, kneeling before her; and every day once, for any mirths that all the ladies might make him, he would once every day look towards the realm of Logris where King Arthur and Queen Guenever were, and then would he fall upon weeping as though his heart should to-brast [burst to pieces]. So it fell that time that Sir Launcelot heard of a jousting fast by his castle, within three leagues. Then he called unto him a dwarf, and he bade him go unto that jousting, "and, or ever the knights depart, look thou make there a cry in the hearing of all the knights, that there is one knight in the Joyous Isle, that is the castle Bliant, and say that his name is Le Chevalier Mal Fait, that will joust against knights that will come; and who that putteth that knight to the worst shall have a fair maid and a gerfalcon."

So when this cry was made, unto Joyous Isle drew knights to the number of five hundred. And wit ye well there was never seen in Arthur's days one knight that did so much deeds of arms as Sir Launcelot did three days together. For he had the better of all the five hundred knights, and there was not one slain of them. And after that Sir Launcelot made them all a great feast. And in the meanwhile came Sir Percival de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris under that castle that was called the Joyous Isle. And as they beheld that gay castle they would have gone to that castle, but they might not for the broad water, and bridge could they find none. Then they saw on the other side a lady with a sperhawk in her hand, and Sir Percival called unto her, and asked that lady who was in that castle.

"Fair knight," she said, "here within this castle is the fairest lady in this land, and her name is Elaine. Also we have in this castle the fairest knight and the mightiest man that is, I dare say, living, and he calleth himself Le Chevalier Mal Fait."

"How came he into these marches?" said Sir Percival.

"Truly," said the damsel, "he came into this country like a mad man, with dogs and boys chasing him through the city of Corbin; and by the Holy Grail he was brought into his wit again, but he will not do battle with no knight but by underne [nine in the morning] or by noon. And if ye list to come into the castle, ye must ride unto the farther side of the castle, and there shall ye find a vessel that will bear you and your horse."

Then they departed and came unto the vessel. And then Sir Percival alighted and said unto Sir Ector de Maris, "Ye shall abide me here, until I know what manner of knight he is, for it were a great shame unto us, inasmuch as he is but one knight, and we should both do battle with him."

"Do as ye list," said Sir Ector de Maris, "here shall I abide you until that I hear of you again."

Then Sir Percival passed the water; and when he came unto the castle gate, he said to the porter, "Go thou unto the good knight within the castle, and tell him that here is come an errant knight to joust with him."

"Sir," said the porter, "ride ye within the castle, and there shall ye find a common place for jousting, that lords and ladies may behold you."

So anon as Sir Launcelot had warning, he was soon ready. And there Sir Percival and Sir Launcelot encountered with such a might, and their spears were so rude, that both the horses and the knights fell to the ground. And then they avoided their horses, and drew out their swords, and hewed away cantels [pieces] of their shields, and hurled together with their shields like two wild boars, and either wounded other passing sore. And at the last Sir Percival spake first, when they had fought more than two hours.

"Fair knight," said Sir Percival, "I require thee tell me thy name, for I met never with such a knight as ye are."

"Sir," said Sir Launcelot, "my name is Le Chevalier Mal Fait. Now tell me your name," said Sir Launcelot, "I require you, as ye are a gentle knight."

"Truly," said Sir Percival, "my name is Sir Percival de Galis, which is brother unto the good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis, and King Pellinore was our father, and Sir Agloval is my brother."

"Alas!" said Sir Launcelot, "what have I done, to fight with you that are a knight of the Round Table, that some time was your fellow in King Arthur's court?"

And therewithal Sir Launcelot kneeled down upon his knees, and threw away his shield and his sword from him. When Sir Percival saw him do so, he marvelled what he meant. And then thus he said, "Sir knight, whatsoever thou be, I require thee upon the high order of knighthood, tell me thy true name."

Then he said, "Truly my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benoy."

"Alas!" said Sir Percival, "what have I done! I was sent by the queen for to seek you, and so I have sought you nigh this two year; and yonder is Sir Ector de Maris your brother abideth me on the other side of the yonder water. Now I pray you forgive me mine offence that I have here done."

"It is soon forgiven," said Sir Launcelot.

Then Sir Percival sent for Sir Ector de Maris. And when Sir Launcelot had a sight of him, he ran unto him and took him in his arms, and then Sir Ector kneeled down and either wept upon other, that all had pity to behold them. Then came dame Elaine, and she there made them great cheer as might lie in her power; and there she told Sir Ector and Sir Percival how and in what manner Sir Launcelot came into that country, and how he was healed. And there it was known how long Sir Launcelot was with Sir Bliant and with Sir Seliaunt, and how he first met with them, and how he departed from them because of a boar; and how the hermit healed Sir Launcelot of his great wound, and how that he came to Corbin.

"Sir," said Sir Ector, "I am your own brother, and ye are the man in the world that I love most, and, if I understood that it were your disworship, ye may right well understand that I would never counsel you thereto; but King Arthur and all his knights, and in especial Queen Guenever, made such dole and sorrow that it was marvel to hear and see. And ye must remember the great worship and renown that ye be of, how that ye have been more spoken of than any other knight that is now living, for there is none that beareth the name now but ye and Sir Tristram. Therefore, brother," said Sir Ector, "make you ready to ride unto the court with us, and I dare well say there was never knight better welcome unto the court than ye. And I wot well and can make it good," said Sir Ector, "it hath cost my lady the queen twenty thousand pound the seeking of you."

"Well, brother," said Sir Launcelot, "I will do after your counsel and ride with you."

So then they took their horses, and made them ready, and took their leave of King Pelles and of dame Elaine; and when Sir Launcelot should depart, dame Elaine made great sorrow.

Then they departed, and within five days' journey they came to Camelot, which is called, in English, Winchester. And when Sir Launcelot was come among them, the king and all the knights made great joy of him; and there Sir Percival de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris began to tell of all the adventures, how Sir Launcelot had been out of his mind all the time of his absence, how he called himself Le Chevalier Mal Fait, as much as to say the knight that had trespassed, and in three days Sir Launcelot smote down five hundred knights. And ever as Sir Ector and Sir Percival told these tales of Sir Launcelot, Queen Guenever wept as she would have died; then afterward the queen made great joy.

"O Jesu!" said King Arthur, "I marvel for what cause ye, Sir Launcelot, went out of your mind?"

"My lord," said Sir Launcelot, "if I did any folly, I have found that I sought."

And so the king held him still, and spake no more; but all Sir Launcelot's kin knew for whom he went out of his mind. And then there were great feasts made and great joy, and many great lords and ladies, when they heard that Sir Launcelot was come to the court again, made great joy.

BOOK III

OF SIR GARETH OF ORKNEY

When Arthur held his Round Table most fully, it fortuned that he commanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be holden at a city and a castle, the which in those days was called King-Kenadon, upon the sands that marched [bordered] nigh Wales. So ever the king had a custom that at the feast of Pentecost, in especial afore other feasts in the year, he would not go that day to meat until he had heard or seen of a great marvel. And for that custom all manner of strange adventures came before Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts. And so Sir Gawaine, a little tofore noon of the day of Pentecost, espied at a window three men upon horseback and a dwarf on foot. And so the three men alighted, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the three men was higher than the other twain by a foot and a half. Then Sir Gawaine went unto the king and said, "Sir, go to your meat, for here at hand come strange adventures."

So Arthur went unto his meat with many other kings. And there were all the knights of the Round Table, save those that were prisoners or slain at a rencounter. Then at the high feast evermore they should be fulfilled the whole number of an hundred and fifty, for then was the Round Table fully accomplished. Right so came into the hall two men well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders there leaned the goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all saw, and he was large and long, and broad in the shoulders, and well visaged, and the fairest and the largest handed that ever man saw, but he fared as though he might not go nor bear himself but if he leaned upon their shoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him, there was made peace [silence] and room, and right so they went with him unto the high dais, without saying of any words. Then this big young man pulled him aback, and easily stretched up straight, saying, "King Arthur, God you bless, and all your fair fellowship, and in especial the fellowship of the Table Round. And for this cause I am come hither, to pray you and require you to give me three gifts, and they shall not be unreasonably asked, but that ye may worshipfully and honorably grant them me, and to you no great hurt nor loss. And as for the first gift I will ask now, and the other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth wheresoever ye hold your high feast."

"Now ask," said Arthur, "and ye shall have your asking."

"Now, sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give me meat and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask mine other two gifts."

"My fair son," said Arthur, "ask better, I counsel thee, for this is but a simple asking, for my heart giveth me to thee greatly that thou art come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit faileth me but thou shalt prove a man of right great worship."

"Sir," said he, "thereof be as it may, I have asked that I will ask."

"Well," said the king, "ye shall have meat and drink enough, I never defended that none, neither my friend nor my foe. But what is thy name I would wit?"

"I cannot tell you," said he.

"That is marvel," said the king, "that thou knowest not thy name, and thou art the goodliest young man that ever I saw."

Then the king betook him to Sir Kay, the steward, and charged him that he should give him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and also that he had all manner of finding as though he were a lord's son.

"That shall little need," said Sir Kay, "to do such cost upon him; for I dare undertake he is a villain born, and never will make man, for and he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and armor, but such as he is, so he asketh. And since he hath no name, I shall give him a name: that shall be Beaumains, that is Fairhands, and into the kitchen I shall bring him, and there he shall have fat browis [broth] every day, that he shall be as fat by the twelvemonth's end as a pork hog."

Right so the two men departed, and left him to Sir Kay, that scorned him and mocked him.

Thereat was Sir Gawaine wroth, and in especial Sir Launcelot bade Sir Kay leave his mocking, "for I dare lay my head he shall prove a man of great worship."

"Let be," said Sir Kay, "it may not be, by no reason, for as he is, so hath he asked."

"Beware," said Sir Launcelot; "so ye gave the good knight Brewnor, Sir Dinadan's brother, a name, and ye called him La Cote Mal Taile, and that turned you to anger afterward."

"As for that," said Sir Kay, "this shall never prove none such; for Sir Brewnor desired ever worship, and this desireth bread and drink, and broth; upon pain of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and, howsoever it was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come for his sustenance."

And so Sir Kay bade get him a place and sit down to meat, so Beaumains went to the hall door, and set him down among boys and lads, and there he eat sadly. And then Sir Launcelot after meat bade him come to his chamber, and there he should have meat and drink enough. And so did Sir Gawaine, but he refused them all; he would do none other but as Sir Kay commanded him, for no proffer. But as touching Sir Gawaine, he had reason to proffer him lodging, meat, and drink, for that proffer came of his blood, for he was nearer kin to him than he wist. But that Sir Launcelot did was of his great gentleness and courtesy. So thus he was put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the boys of the kitchen did. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and never displeased man nor child, but always he was meek and mild. But ever when he saw any jousting of knights, that would he see and he might. And ever Sir Launcelot would give him gold to spend, and clothes, and so did Sir Gawaine. And where were any masteries done thereat would he be, and there might none cast the bar or stone to him by two yards. Then would Sir Kay say, "How like you my boy of the kitchen?" So it passed on till the feast of Pentecost, and at that time the king held it at Caerleon, in the most royallest wise that might be, like as yearly he did. But the king would eat no meat on the Whitsunday till he had heard of some adventure. And then came there a squire to the king, and said, "Sir, ye may go to your meat, for here cometh a damsel with some strange adventure." Then was the king glad, and set him down. Right so there came in a damsel, and saluted the king, and prayed him for succor.

"For whom?" said the king: "what is the adventure?"

"Sir," said she, "I have a lady of great worship and renown, and she is besieged with a tyrant, so that she may not go out of her castle, and because that here in your court are called the noblest knights of the world, I come unto you and pray you for succor."

"What call ye your lady, and where dwelleth she, and who is he and what is his name that hath besieged her?"

"Sir king," said she, "as for my lady's name, that shall not be known for me as at this time; but I let you wit she is a lady of great worship, and of great lands. And as for the tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth her land, he is called the Red Knight of the Red Lawns."

"I know him not," said the king.

"Sir," said Sir Gawaine, "I know him well, for he is one of the perilous knights of the world; men say that he hath seven men's strength, and from him I escaped once full hard with my life."

"Fair damsel," said the king, "there be knights here that would do their power to rescue your lady, but because ye will not tell her name nor where she dwelleth, therefore none of my knights that be here now shall go with you by my will."

"Then must I speak further," said the damsel.

Then with these words came before the king Beaumains, while the damsel was there; and thus he said: "Sir king, God thank you, I have been this twelve months in your kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and now I will ask my two gifts that be behind."

"Ask upon my peril," said the king.

"Sir, these shall be my two gifts: first, that ye will grant me to have this adventure of the damsel, for it belongeth to me."

"Thou shalt have it," said the king; "I grant it thee."

"Then, sir, this is now the other gift: that ye shall bid Sir Launcelot du Lake to make me a knight, for of him I will be made knight, and else of none; and when I am passed, I pray you let him ride after me, and make me knight when I require him."

"All this shall be done," said the king.

"Fie on thee," said the damsel; "shall I have none but one that is your kitchen page?"

Then was she wroth, and took her horse and departed. And with that there came one to Beaumains, and told him that his horse and armor was come for him, and there was a dwarf come with all things that him needed in the richest manner. Thereat all the court had much marvel from whence came all that gear. So when he was armed, there was none but few so goodly a man as he was. And right so he came into the hall, and took his leave of King Arthur and of Sir Gawaine, and of Sir Launcelot, and prayed him that he would hie after him; and so departed and rode after the damsel.

But there went many after to behold how well he was horsed and trapped in cloth of gold, but he had neither shield nor spear. Then Sir Kay said openly in the hall: "I will ride after my boy of the kitchen, for to wit [know] whether he will know me for his better."

Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine said, "Yet abide at home."

So Sir Kay made him ready, and took his horse and his spear, and rode after him. And right as Beaumains overtook the damsel, right so came Sir Kay, and said, "Beaumains, what sir, know ye not me?"

Then he turned his horse, and knew it was Sir Kay, that had done him all the despite as ye have heard afore.

"Yea," said Beaumains, "I know you for an ungentle knight of the court, and therefore beware of me."

Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and ran straight upon him, and Beaumains came as fast upon him with his sword in his hand; and so he put away his spear with his sword, and with a foin [feint] thrust him through the side, that Sir Kay fell down as he had been dead, and he alighted down and took Sir Kay's shield and his spear, and started upon his own horse, and rode his way. All that saw Sir Launcelot, and so did the damsel. And then he bade his dwarf start upon Sir Kay's horse, and so he did. By that Sir Launcelot was come. Then he proffered Sir Launcelot to joust, and either made them ready, and came together so fiercely that either bare down other to the earth, and sore were they bruised. Then Sir Launcelot arose and helped him from his horse. And then Beaumains threw his shield from him, and proffered to fight with Sir Launcelot on foot, and so they rushed together like boars, tracing, racing, and foining, to the mountenance [amount] of an hour, and Sir Launcelot felt him so big that he marvelled of his strength, for he fought more like a giant than a knight, and that his fighting was durable and passing perilous. For Sir Launcelot had so much ado with him that he dreaded himself to be shamed, and said, "Beaumains, fight not so sore, your quarrel and mine is not so great but we may leave off."

"Truly, that is truth," said Beaumains, "but it doth me good to feel your might, and yet, my lord, I showed not the uttermost."

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "for I promise you by the faith of my body I had as much to do as I might to save myself from you unshamed, and therefore have ye no doubt of none earthly knight."

"Hope ye so that I may any while stand a proved knight?" said Beaumains.

"Yea," said Launcelot, "do ye as ye have done, and I shall be your warrant."

"Then, I pray you," said Beaumains, "give me the order of knighthood."

"Then must ye tell me your name," said Launcelot, "and of what kin ye be born."

"Sir, so that ye will not discover me I shall," said Beaumains.

"Nay," said Sir Launcelot, "and that I promise you by the faith of my body, until it be openly known."

"Then, Sir," he said, "my name is Gareth, and brother unto Sir Gawaine, of father and mother."

"Ah! Sir," said Launcelot, "I am more gladder of you than I was, for ever me thought ye should be of great blood, and that ye came not to the court neither for meat nor for drink."

And then Sir Launcelot gave him the order of knighthood. And then Sir Gareth prayed him for to depart, and let him go. So Sir Launcelot departed from him and came to Sir Kay, and made him to be borne home upon his shield, and so he was healed hard with the life, and all men scorned Sir Kay, and in especial Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot said it was not his part to rebuke [any] young man, for full little knew he of what birth he is come, and for what cause he came to this court. And so we leave off Sir Kay and turn we unto Beaumains. When he had overtaken the damsel anon she said, "What dost thou here? thou stinkest all of the kitchen, thy clothes be foul of the grease and tallow that thou gainedst in King Arthur's kitchen; weenest thou," said she, "that I allow thee for yonder knight that thou killedst? Nay truly, for thou slewest him unhappily and cowardly, therefore return again, kitchen page. I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee Beaumains. What art thou but a turner of broaches and a washer of dishes!"

"Damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "say to me what ye list, I will not go from you whatsoever ye say, for I have undertaken of King Arthur for to achieve your adventure, and I shall finish it to the end, or I shall die therefor."

"Fie on thee, kitchen knave. Wilt thou finish mine adventure? thou shalt anon be met withal, that thou wouldest not, for all the broth that ever thou suppest, once look him in the face."

"I shall assay," said Beaumains. So as they thus rode in the wood, there came a man flying all that he might.

"Whither wilt thou?" said Beaumains.

"O lord," said he, "help me, for hereby in a slade are six thieves which have taken my lord and bound him, and I am afraid lest they will slay him."

"Bring me thither," said Sir Beaumains.

And so they rode together till they came there as the knight was bound; and then he rode unto the thieves, and struck one at the first stroke to death, and then another, and at the third stroke he slew the third thief; and then the other three fled, and he rode after and overtook them, and then those three thieves turned again and hard assailed Sir Beaumains; but at the last he slew them; and then returned and unbound the knight. And the knight thanked him, and prayed him to ride with him to his castle there a little beside, and he should worshipfully reward him for his good deeds.

"Sir," said Sir Beaumains, "I will no reward have; I was this day made knight of the noble Sir Launcelot, and therefore I will have no reward, but God reward me. And also I must follow this damsel."

And when he came nigh her, she bade him ride from her, "for thou smellest all of the kitchen. Weenest thou that I have joy of thee? for all this deed that thou hast done is but mishappened thee. But thou shalt see a sight that shall make thee to turn again, and that lightly."

[Then all the next day] this Beaumains rode with that lady till even-song time, and ever she chid him and would not rest. And then they came to a black lawn, and there was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung a black banner, and on the other side there hung a black shield, and by it stood a black spear and a long, and a great black horse covered with silk, and a black stone fast by it.

There sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was the Knight of the Black Lawns. When the damsel saw the black knight, she bade Sir Beaumains flee down the valley, for his horse was not saddled.

"I thank you," said Sir Beaumains, "for always ye will have me a coward."

With that the black knight came to the damsel, and said, "Fair damsel, have ye brought this knight from King Arthur's court to be your champion?"

"Nay, fair knight," said she, "this is but a kitchen knave, that hath been fed in King Arthur's kitchen for alms."

"Wherefore cometh he in such array?" said the knight: "it is great shame that he beareth you company."

"Sir, I cannot be delivered of him," said the damsel, "for with me he rideth maugre [in spite of] mine head; would to God ye would put him from me, or else to slay him if ye may, for he is an unhappy knave, and unhappy hath he done to-day through misadventure; for I saw him slay two knights at the passage of the water, and other deeds he did before right marvellous, and all through unhappiness."

"That marvelleth me," said the black knight, "that any man the which is of worship will have to do with him."

"Sir, they know him not," said the damsel, "and because he rideth with me they think he is some man of worship born."

"That may be," said the black knight, "howbeit, as ye say that he be no man of worship, he is a full likely person, and full like to be a strong man; but thus much shall I grant you," said the black knight, "I shall put him down upon his feet, and his horse and his harness he shall leave with me, for it were shame to me to do him any more harm."

When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, "Sir knight, thou art full liberal of my horse and my harness. I let thee wit it cost thee nought, and whether it liketh thee or not this lawn will I pass, maugre thine head, and horse nor harness gettest thou none of me, but if thou win them with thy hands; and therefore let see what thou canst do."

"Sayst thou that?" said the black knight, "now yield thy lady from thee, for it beseemeth never a kitchen page to ride with such a lady."

"Thou liest," said Beaumains, "I am a gentleman born, and of more high lineage than thou, and that will I prove on thy body."

Then in great wrath they departed with their horses, and came together as it had been the thunder; and the black knight's spear brake, and Beaumains thrust him through both his sides, and therewith his spear brake, and the truncheon left still in his side. But nevertheless the black knight drew his sword, and smote many eager strokes and of great might, and hurt Beaumains full sore. But at the last the black knight within an hour and a half he fell down off his horse in a swoon, and there he died. And then Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed, then he alighted down, and armed him in his armor, and so took his horse, and rode after the damsel. When she saw him come nigh, she said, "Away, kitchen knave, out of the wind, for the smell of thy foul clothes grieveth me. Alas," she said, "that ever such a knave as thou art should by mishap slay so good a knight as thou hast done, but all this is thine unhappiness. But hereby is one shall pay thee all thy payment, and therefore yet I counsel thee, flee."

"It may happen me," said Beaumains, "to be beaten or slain, but I warn you, fair damsel, I will not flee away for him, nor leave your company for all that ye can say; for ever ye say that they slay me or beat me, but how soever it happeneth I escape, and they lie on the ground, and therefore it were as good for you to hold you still, than thus to rebuke me all day, for away will I not till I feel the uttermost of this journey, or else I will be slain or truly beaten; therefore ride on your way, for follow you I will, whatsoever happen."

Thus as they rode together they saw a knight come driving by them all in green, both his horse and his harness, and when he came nigh the damsel he asked of her, "Is that my brother, the black knight, that ye have brought with you?"

"Nay, nay," said she, "this unhappy kitchen knave hath slain your brother through unhappiness."

"Alas!" said the green knight, "that is great pity that so noble a knight as he was should so unhappily be slain, and namely of a knave's hand, as ye say he is. Ah, traitor!" said the green knight, "thou shalt die for slaying of my brother; he was a full noble knight, and his name was Sir Periard."

"I defy thee," said Sir Beaumains, "for I let thee to wit I slew him knightly, and not shamefully."

Therewithal the green knight rode unto an horn that was green, and it hung upon a thorn, and there he blew three deadly notes, and there came three damsels that lightly armed him. And then took he a great horse, and a green shield and a green spear. And then they ran together with all their mights, and brake their spears unto their hands. And then they drew their swords, and gave many sad strokes, and either of them wounded other full ill. And at the last at an overthwart Beaumains' horse struck the green knight's horse upon the side [that] he fell to the earth. And then the green knight avoided his horse lightly, and dressed him upon foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewithal he alighted, and they rushed together like two mighty champions a long while, and sore they bled both. With that came the damsel and said, "My lord the green knight, why for shame stand ye so long fighting with the kitchen knave? Alas, it is shame that ever ye were made knight, to see such a lad match such a knight as the weed overgrew the corn."

Therewith the green knight was ashamed, and therewithal he gave a great stroke of might, and clave his shield through. When Beaumains saw his shield cloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke, and of her language; and then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell on his knees; and so suddenly Beaumains pulled him upon the ground grovelling. And then the green knight cried him mercy, and yielded him unto Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to slay him not.

"All is in vain," said Beaumains, "for thou shalt die, but if this damsel that came with me pray me to save thy life."

And therewithal he unlaced his helm, like as he would slay him.

"Fie upon thee, false kitchen page, I will never pray thee to save his life, for I never will be so much in thy danger."

"Then shall he die," said Beaumains.

"Not so hardy, thou foul knave," said the damsel, "that thou slay him."

"Alas," said the green knight, "suffer me not to die, for a fair word may save my life. O fair knight," said the green knight, "save my life, and I will forgive the death of my brother, and for ever to become thy man, and thirty knights that hold of me for ever shall do you service."

Said the damsel, "That such a kitchen knave should have thee and thirty knights' service!"

"Sir knight," said Sir Beaumains, "all this availeth not, but if my damsel speak with me for thy life."

And therewithal he made resemblance to slay him.

"Let be," said the damsel, "thou knave, slay him not, for if thou do, thou shalt repent it."

"Damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "your charge is to me a pleasure, and at your commandment his life shall be saved, and else not."

Then he said, "Sir knight with the green arms, I release thee quit [acquitted] at this damsel's request, for I will not make her wroth, I will fulfil all that she chargeth me."

And then the green knight kneeled down and did him homage with his sword.

And always the damsel rebuked Sir Beaumains. And so that night they went unto rest, and all that night the green knight commanded thirty knights privily to watch Beaumains, for to keep him from all treason. And so on the morn they all arose, and heard their mass and brake their fast, and then they took their horses and rode on their way, and the green knight conveyed them through the forest, and there the green knight said, "My lord Beaumains, I and these thirty knights shall be alway at your summons, both early and late, at your calling, and where that ever ye will send us."

"It is well said," said Beaumains; "when that I call upon you ye must yield you unto King Arthur and all your knights."

"If that ye so command us, we shall be ready at all times," said the green knight.

"Fie, fie upon thee," said the damsel, "that any good knights should be obedient unto a kitchen knave."

So then departed the green knight and the damsel. And then she said unto Beaumains, "Why followest thou me, thou kitchen boy, cast away thy shield and thy spear and flee away, yet I counsel thee betimes, or thou shalt say right soon, Alas!"

"Damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me as ye do, for meseemeth I have done you great service, and ever ye threaten me for I shall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever for all your boast they lie in the dust or in the mire, and therefore I pray you rebuke me no more; and when ye see me beaten or yielden as recreant, then may ye bid me go from you shamefully, but first I let you wit I will not depart from you, for I were worse than a fool and I would depart from you all the while that I win worship."

"Well," said she, "right soon there shall meet a knight shall pay thee all thy wages, for he is the most man of worship of the world, except King Arthur."

"I will well," said Beaumains; "the more he is of worship the more shall be my worship to have ado with him."

Then anon they were ware where was before them a city rich and fair. And betwixt them and the city a mile and a half there was a fair meadow that seemed new mown, and therein were many pavilions fair to behold.

"Lo," said the damsel, "yonder is a lord that owneth yonder city, and his custom is when the weather is fair to lie in this meadow to joust and tourney; and ever there be about him five hundred knights and gentlemen of arms, and there be all manner of games that any gentleman can devise."

"That goodly lord," said Beaumains, "would I fain see."

"Thou shalt see him time enough," said the damsel.

And so as she rode near she espied the pavilion where he was.

"Lo," said she, "seest thou yonder pavilion, that is all of the color of Inde, and all manner of thing that there is about, men and women, and horses trapped, shields and spears, all of the color of Inde, and his name is Sir Persant of Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever thou lookedst on."

"It may well be," said Beaumains, "but be he never so stout a knight, in this field I shall abide till that I see him under his shield."

"Ah, fool," said she, "thou wert better flee betimes."

"Why," said Beaumains, "and he be such a knight as ye make him, he will not set upon me with all his men, or with his five hundred knights. For and there come no more but one at once, I shall him not fail whilst my life lasteth."

"Fie, fie," said the damsel, "that ever such a dirty knave should blow such a boast."

"Damsel," he said, "ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I had liever do five battles than so to be rebuked; let him come, and then let him do his worst."

"Sir," she said, "I marvel what thou art, and of what kin thou art come: boldly thou speakest, and boldly thou hast done, that have I seen: therefore I pray thee save thyself and thou mayest, for thy horse and thou have had great travail, and I dread we dwell over long from the siege, for it is but hence seven mile, and all perilous passages we are past, save all only this passage, and here I dread me sore lest ye shall catch some hurt, therefore I would ye were hence, that ye were not bruised nor hurt with this strong knight. But I let you wit this Sir Persant of Inde is nothing of might nor strength unto the knight that laid the siege about my lady."

"As for that," said Sir Beaumains, "be it as it may; for since I am come so nigh this knight I will prove his might or [ere] I depart from him, and else I shall be shamed and [if] I now withdraw me from him. And therefore, damsel, have ye no doubt by the grace of God I shall so deal with this knight, that within two hours after noon I shall deliver him, and then shall we come to the siege by daylight."

"Oh, mercy, marvel have I," said the damsel, "what manner a man ye be, for it may never be otherwise but that ye be come of a noble blood, for so foul and shamefully did never woman rule a knight as I have done you, and ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came never but of a gentle blood."

"Damsel," said Beaumains, "a knight may little do that may not suffer a damsel; for whatsoever ye said unto me I took none heed to your words, for the more ye said the more ye angered me, and my wrath I wreaked upon them that I had ado withal. And therefore all the missaying that ye missayed me furthered me in my battle, and caused me to think to show and prove myself at the end what I was; for peradventure though I had meat in King Arthur's kitchen, yet I might have had meat enough in other places; but all that I did for to prove my friends; and whether I be a gentleman born or no, fair damsel, I have done you gentleman's service, and peradventure better service yet will I do you or [before] I depart from you."

"Alas," said she, "fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I have missaid and misdone against you."

"With all my heart," said Sir Beaumains, "I forgive it you, for ye did nothing but as ye ought to do, for all your evil words pleased me; and, damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "sith [since] it liketh you to speak thus fair to me, wit ye well it gladdeth greatly mine heart; and now meseemeth there is no knight living but I am able enough for him."

With this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them, as they hoved [hovered] in the field, and knightly he sent to them to know whether he came in war or in peace.

"Say unto thy lord," said Sir Beaumains, "I take no force,[14] but whether as him list[15] himself."

So the messenger went again unto Sir Persant, and told him all his answer.

"Well," said he, "then will I have ado with him to the uttermost;" and so he purveyed him [prepared himself], and rode against him. And when Sir Beaumains saw him, he made him ready, and there they met with all the might that their horses might run, and brake their spears either in three pieces, and their horses rashed so together that both their horses fell dead to the earth; and lightly they avoided their horses, and put their shields before them, and drew their swords, and gave each other many great strokes, that sometime they so hurled together that they fell both grovelling on the ground. Thus they fought two hours and more, that their shields and their hauberks were all forhewen [hewn to pieces] and in many places they were sore wounded. So at the last Sir Beaumains smote him through the cost [rib part] of the body, and then he retrayed him [drew back] here and there, and knightly maintained his battle long time. And at the last Sir Beaumains smote Sir Persant on the helm that he fell grovelling to the earth, and then he leaped overthwart [across] upon him, and unlaced his helm for to have slain him. Then Sir Persant yielded him, and asked him mercy. With that came the damsel and prayed him to save his life.

"I will well," said Sir Beaumains, "for it were pity that this noble knight should die."

"Gramercy," said Sir Persant, "gentle knight and damsel, for certainly now I know well it was you that slew the black knight my brother at the blackthorn; he was a full noble knight, his name was Sir Periard. Also I am sure that ye are he that won mine other brother the green knight: his name was Sir Pertolope. Also ye won the red knight, my brother, Sir Perimones. And now, sir, sith ye have won these knights, this shall I do for to please you: ye shall have homage and fealty of me, and an hundred knights to be always at your command, to go and ride where ye will command us."

And so they went unto Sir Persant's pavilion, and there he drank wine and eat spices. And afterward Sir Persant made him to rest upon a bed till it was supper time, and after supper to bed again. And so we leave him there till on the morrow.

Now leave we the knight and the dwarf, and speak we of Beaumains, that all night lay in the hermitage, and upon the morn he and the damsel Linet heard their mass, and brake their fast. And then they took their horses and rode throughout a fair forest, and then they came to a plain, and saw where were many pavilions and tents, and a fair castle, and there was much smoke and great noise. And when they came near the siege Sir Beaumains espied upon great trees, as he rode, how there hung full goodly armed knights by the neck, and their shields about their necks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels, and so there hung shamefully nigh forty knights with rich arms. Then Sir Beaumains abated his countenance, and said, "What thing meaneth this?"

"Fair sir," saith the damsel, "abate not your cheer for all this sight, for ye must encourage yourself, or else ye be all shent [ruined], for all these knights came hither unto this siege to rescue my sister dame Lyoness, and when the red knight of the red lawns had overcome them, he put them to this shameful death, without mercy and pity, and in the same wise he will serve you, but if ye quit [acquit] you the better."

"Now Jesu defend me," said Sir Beaumains, "from such a villanous death and shenship [disgrace] of arms! for rather than thus I should fare withal, I would rather be slain manfully in plain battle."

"So were ye better," said the damsel, "trust not in him, for in him is no courtesy, but all goeth to the death or shameful murder, and that is great pity, for he is a full likely man and well made of body, and a full noble knight of prowess, and a lord of great lands and possessions."

"Truly," said Sir Beaumains, "he may well be a good knight, but he useth shameful customs, and it is great marvel that he endureth so long, that none of the noble knights of my lord King Arthur's court have not dealt with him."

And then they rode unto the ditches, and saw them double ditched with full strong walls, and there were lodged many great estates and lords nigh the walls, and there was great noise of minstrels, and the sea beat upon the one side of the walls, where as were many ships and mariners' noise with hale and how.[16] And also there was fast by a sycamore tree, and thereon hung an horn, the greatest that ever they saw, of an elephant's bone.

"And this knight of the red lawns hath hanged it up there, that if there come any errant knight, he must blow that horn, and then will he make him ready, and come to him to do battle. But sir, I pray you," said the damsel Linet, "blow ye not the horn till it be high noon, for now it is about prime, and now increaseth his might, that, as men say, he hath seven men's strength."

"Ah, fie for shame, fair damsel, say ye never so more to me, for, and he were as good a knight as ever was, I shall never fail him in his most might, for either I will win worship worshipfully, or die knightly in the field."

And therewith he spurred his horse straight to the sycamore tree and blew the horn so eagerly that all the siege and the castle rang thereof. And then there leaped our knights out of their tents and pavilions, and they within the castle looked over the walls and out at windows. Then the red knight of the red lawns armed him hastily, and two barons set on his spurs upon his heels, and all was blood-red, his armor, spear, and shield. And an earl buckled his helm upon his head, and then they brought him a red spear and a red steed, and so he rode into a little vale under the castle, that all that were in the castle and at the siege might behold the battle.

"Sir," said the damsel Linet unto Sir Beaumains, "look ye be glad and light, for yonder is your deadly enemy, and at yonder window is my lady my sister, dame Lyoness."

"Where?" said Beaumains.

"Yonder," said the damsel, and pointed with her finger.

"That is truth," said Beaumains. "She seemeth afar the fairest lady that ever I looked upon, and truly," he said, "I ask no better quarrel than now for to do battle, for truly she shall be my lady, and for her I will fight."

And ever he looked up to the window with glad countenance. And the lady Lyoness made courtesy to him down to the earth, with holding up both her hands. With that the red knight of the red lawns called to Sir Beaumains, "Leave, sir knight, thy looking, and behold me, I counsel thee, for I warn thee well she is my lady, and for her I have done many strong battles."

"If thou have so done," said Beaumains, "meseemeth it was but waste labor, for she loveth none of thy fellowship, and thou to love that loveth not thee, is a great folly. For if I understood that she were not glad of my coming, I would be advised or I did battle for her, but I understand by the besieging of this castle she may forbear thy company. And therefore wit thou well, thou red knight of the red lawns, I love her and will rescue her, or else die in the quarrel."

"Sayest thou that?" said the red knight; "me seemeth thou ought of reason to beware by yonder knights that thou sawest hang upon yonder great elms."

"Fie, fie, for shame," said Sir Beaumains, "that ever thou shouldest say or do so evil and such shamefulness, for in that thou shamest thyself and the order of knighthood, and thou mayst be sure there will no lady love thee that knoweth thy detestable customs. And now thou weenest [thinkest] that the sight of these hanged knights should fear [scare] me and make me aghast, nay truly not so, that shameful sight causeth me to have courage and hardiness against thee, more than I would have had against thee and if thou be a well ruled knight."

"Make thee ready," said the red knight of the red lawns, "and talk no longer with me."

Then Sir Beaumains bade the damsel go from him, and then they put their spears in their rests, and came together with all the might they had, and either smote other in the midst of their shields, that the paytrels [breast-plates], surcingles, and cruppers burst, and fell both to the ground with the reins of their bridles in their hands, and so they lay a great while sore astonied, and all they that were in the castle and at the siege wend [thought] their necks had been broken, and then many a stranger and other said that the strange knight was a big man and a noble jouster, "for or [ere] now we saw never no knight match the red knight of the red lawns;" thus they said both within the castle and without. Then they lightly avoided their horses and put their shields afore them, and drew their swords and ran together like two fierce lions, and either gave other such buffets upon their helms that they reeled both backward two strides; and then they recovered both, and hewed great pieces from their harness and their shields that a great part fell in the fields.

And then thus they fought till it was past noon and never would stint till at last they lacked wind both, and then they stood wagging and scattering, panting, blowing and bleeding, that all that beheld them for the most part wept for pity. So when they had rested them a while they went to battle again, tracing, racing, foining [feinting], as two boars. And at some time they took their run as it had been two rams, and hurtled together that sometimes they fell grovelling to the earth; and at some time they were so amazed that either took other's sword instead of his own.

Thus they endured till even-song time [vespers], that there was none that beheld them might know whether was like to win the battle; and their armor was so far hewn that men might see their naked sides, and in other places they were naked, but ever the naked places they did defend. And the red knight was a wily knight of war, and his wily fighting taught Sir Beaumains to be wise; but he abought [paid for] it full sore ere he did espy his fighting. And thus by assent of them both, they granted either other to rest; and so they set them down upon two mole-hills there beside the fighting place, and either of them unlaced his helm, and took the cold wind, for either of their pages was fast by them, to come when they called to unlace their harness and to set it on again at their command. And then when Sir Beaumains' helm was off, he looked up unto the window, and there he saw the fair lady dame Lyoness. And she made to him such countenance that his heart was light and joyful. And therewith he started up suddenly, and bade the red knight make him ready to do the battle to the uttermost.

"I will well," said the red knight.

And then they laced up their helms, and their pages avoided [got out of the way], and they stepped together and fought freshly. But the red knight of the red lawns awaited him, and at an overthwart [crosswise] smote him within the hand, that his sword fell out of his hand; and yet he gave him another buffet on the helm that he fell grovelling to the earth, and the red knight fell over him for to hold him down.

Then cried the maiden Linet on high, "O Sir Beaumains, where is thy courage become! Alas, my lady my sister beholdeth thee, and she sobbeth and weepeth, that maketh mine heart heavy."

When Sir Beaumains heard her say so, he started up with a great might and gat him upon his feet, and lightly he leaped to his sword and griped it in his hand, and doubled his pace unto the red knight, and there they fought a new battle together. But Sir Beaumains then doubled his strokes, and smote so thick that he smote the sword out of his hand, and then he smote him upon the helm that he fell to the earth, and Sir Beaumains fell upon him, and unlaced his helm to have slain him; and then he yielded him and asked mercy, and said with a loud voice, "O noble knight, I yield me to thy mercy."

Then Sir Beaumains bethought him upon the knights that he had made to be hanged shamefully, and then he said, "I may not with my worship save thy life, for the shameful deaths thou hast caused many full good knights to die."

"Sir," said the red knight of the red lawns, "hold your hand, and ye shall know the causes why I put them to so shameful a death."

"Say on," said Sir Beaumains.

"Sir, I loved once a lady, a fair damsel, and she had her brother slain, and she said it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, or else Sir Gawaine, and she prayed me as that I loved her heartily that I would make her a promise by the faith of my knighthood for to labor daily in arms until I met with one of them, and all that I might overcome I should put them unto a villanous death; and this is the cause that I have put all these knights to death, and so I ensured her to do all the villany unto King Arthur's knights, and that I should take vengeance upon all these knights. And, sir, now I will thee tell that every day my strength increaseth till noon, and all this time have I seven men's strength."

Then came there many earls, and barons, and noble knights, and prayed that knight to save his life, and take him to your prisoner: and all they fell upon their knees and prayed him of mercy, and that he would save his life, and, "Sir," they all said, "it were fairer of him to take homage and fealty, and let him hold his lands of you, than for to slay him: by his death ye shall have none advantage, and his misdeeds that be done may not be undone; and therefore he shall make amends to all parties, and we all will become your men, and do you homage and fealty."

"Fair lords," said Beaumains, "wit you well I am full loth to slay this knight, nevertheless he hath done passing ill and shamefully. But insomuch all that he did was at a lady's request, I blame him the less, and so for your sake I will release him, that he shall have his life upon this covenant, that he go within the castle and yield him there to the lady, and if she will forgive and quit [acquit] him, I will well; with this that he make her amends of all the trespass he hath done against her and her lands. And also, when that is done, that ye go unto the court of King Arthur, and there that ye ask Sir Launcelot mercy, and Sir Gawaine, for the evil will ye have had against them."

"Sir," said the red knight of the red lawns, "all this will I do as ye command, and certain assurance and sureties ye shall have."

And so then when the assurance was made, he made his homage and fealty, and all those earls and barons with him. And then the maiden Linet came to Sir Beaumains and unarmed him, and searched his wounds, and stinted his blood, and in likewise she did to the red knight of the red lawns. And so they sojourned ten days in their tents. And the red knight made his lords and servants to do all the pleasure that they might unto Sir Beaumains.

And within a while after, the red knight of the red lawns went unto the castle and put him in the lady Lyoness' grace, and so she received him upon sufficient sureties, and all her hurts were well restored of all that she could complain. And then he departed and went unto the court of King Arthur, and there openly the red knight of the red lawns put him in the mercy of Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine, and there he told openly how he was overcome, and by whom, and also he told of all the battles, from the beginning to the ending.

"Jesus, mercy," said King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, "we marvel much of what blood he is come, for he is a full noble knight."

"Have ye no marvel," said Sir Launcelot, "for ye shall right well wit that he is come of a full noble blood, and, as for his might and hardiness, there be but few now living that is so mighty as he is and so noble of prowess."

"It seemeth by you," said King Arthur, "that ye know his name, and from whence he is come, and of what blood he is."

"I suppose I do so," said Sir Launcelot, "or else I would not have given him the order of knighthood; but he gave me at that time such charge that I should never discover him until he required me, or else it be known openly by some other."

Now return we unto Sir Beaumains, which desired of the damsel Linet that he might see her sister his lady.

"Sir," said she, "I would fain ye saw her."

Then Sir Beaumains armed him at all points, and took his horse and his spear, and rode straight to the castle. And when he came to the gate, he found there many men armed, that pulled up the drawbridge and drew the port close. Then marvelled he why they would not suffer him to enter in. And then he looked up to the window, and there he saw the fair lady dame Lyoness, that said on high: "Go thy way, Sir Beaumains, for as yet thou shalt not wholly have my love, until the time thou be called one of the number of the worthy knights; and therefore go and labor in arms worshipfully these twelve months, and then ye shall hear new tidings; and perdé [per dieu, truly] a twelvemonth will be soon gone, and trust you me, fair knight, I shall be true unto you, and shall never betray you, but unto my death I shall love you and none other."

And therewithal she turned her from the window. And Sir Beaumains rode away from the castle in making great moan and sorrow; and so he rode here and there, and wist not whither he rode, till it was dark night; and then it happened him to come to a poor man's house, and there he was harbored all that night. But Sir Beaumains could have no rest, but wallowed and writhed for the love of the lady of the castle. And so on the morrow he took his horse and his armor, and rode till it was noon; and then he came unto a broad water, and thereby was a great lodge, and there he alighted to sleep, and laid his head upon his shield, and betook his horse to the dwarf, and commanded him to watch all night.

Now turn we to the lady of the castle, that thought much upon Sir Beaumains; and then she called unto her Sir Gringamor her brother, and prayed him in all manner, as he loved her heartily, that he would ride after Sir Beaumains, "and ever have him in a wait [look after him] till that ye may find him sleeping, for I am sure in his heaviness he will alight down in some place and lie down to sleep, and therefore have your watch upon him, and, in the priviest wise [softest way] that ye can, take his dwarf from him, and go your way with him as fast as ever ye may or Sir Beaumains awake; for my sister Linet hath showed me that the dwarf can tell of what kindred he is come, and what his right name is; and in the meanwhile I and my sister will ride to your castle to await when ye shall bring with you this dwarf, and then when ye have brought him to your castle, I will have him in examination myself; unto the time I know what his right name is, and of what kindred he is come, shall I never be merry at my heart."

"Sister," said Sir Gringamor, "all this shall be done after your intent." And so he rode all the other day and the night till that he found Sir Beaumains lying by a water, and his head upon his shield, for to sleep. And then when he saw Sir Beaumains fast on sleep, he came stilly stalking behind the dwarf, and plucked him fast under his arm, and so he rode away with him as fast as ever he might unto his own castle. But ever as he rode with the dwarf towards his castle, he cried unto his lord and prayed him of help. And therewith awoke Sir Beaumains, and up he leaped lightly, and saw where Sir Gringamor rode his way with the dwarf, and so Sir Gringamor rode out of his sight.

Then Sir Beaumains put on his helm anon, and buckled his shield, and took his horse and rode after him all that ever he might ride, through marshes and fields and great dales, that many times his horse and he plunged over the head in deep mires, for he knew not the way, but he took the next [nearest] way in that woodness [madness] that many times he was like to perish. [And so he came following his dwarf to Sir Gringamor's castle. But aforetime the lady Lyoness had come and had the dwarf in examination; and the dwarf had told the lady how that Sir Beaumains was the son of a king, and how his mother was sister to King Arthur, and how his right name was Sir Gareth of Orkney.]

The lady Lyoness ... had the dwarf in examination

And as they sat thus talking, there came Sir Beaumains at the gate with an angry countenance, and his sword drawn in his hand, and cried aloud that all the castle might hear it, saying, "Thou traitor, Sir Gringamor, deliver me my dwarf again, or by the faith that I owe to the order of knighthood, I shall do thee all the harm that I can."

Then Sir Gringamor looked out at a window, and said, "Sir Gareth of Orkney, leave thy boasting words, for thou gettest not thy dwarf again."

"Thou coward knight," said Sir Gareth, "bring him with thee, and come and do battle with me, and win him, and take him."

"So will I do," said Sir Gringamor, "and me list [if it please me], but for all thy great words thou gettest him not."

"Ah, fair brother," said dame Lyoness, "I would he had his dwarf again, for I would not he were wroth, for now he hath told me all my desire I will no longer keep the dwarf. And also, brother, he hath done much for me, and delivered me from the red knight of the red lawns, and therefore, brother, I owe him my service afore all knights living; and wit ye well I love him above all other knights, and full fain would I speak with him, but in no wise I would he wist what I were, but that I were another strange lady."

"Well," said Sir Gringamor, "sith [since] that I know your will, I will now obey unto him."

And therewithal he went down unto Sir Gareth, and said, "Sir, I cry you mercy, and all that I have misdone against your person I will amend it at your own will, and therefore I pray you that you will alight, and take such cheer as I can make you here in this castle."

"Shall I then have my dwarf again?" said Sir Gareth.

"Yea, sir, and all the pleasure that I can make you, for as soon as your dwarf told me what ye were and of what blood that ye are come, and what noble deeds ye have done in these marches [borders], then I repent me of my deeds."

And then Sir Gareth alighted down from his horse, and therewith came his dwarf and took his horse.

"O my fellow," said Sir Gareth, "I have had many evil adventures for thy sake."

And so Sir Gringamor took him by the hand, and led him into the hall, and there was Sir Gringamor's wife.

And then there came forth into the hall dame Lyoness arrayed like a princess, and there she made him passing good cheer, and he her again. And they had goodly language and lovely countenance together. And Sir Gareth many times thought in himself, "Would to God that the lady of the Castle Perilous were so fair as she is!" There were all manner of games and plays, both of dancing and leaping; and ever the more Sir Gareth beheld the lady, the more he loved her, and so he burned in love that he was past himself in his understanding. And forth towards night they went to supper, and Sir Gareth might not eat, for his love was so hot that he wist not where he was. All these looks Sir Gringamor espied, and after supper he called his sister dame Lyoness unto a chamber, and said: "Fair sister, I have well espied your countenance between you and this knight, and I will, sister, that ye wit that he is a full noble knight, and if ye can make him to abide here, I will do to him all the pleasure that I can, for and ye were better than ye be, ye were well bestowed upon him."

"Fair brother," said dame Lyoness, "I understand well that the knight is good, and come he is of a noble house; notwithstanding I will assay him better, for he hath had great labor for my love, and hath passed many a dangerous passage."

Right so Sir Gringamor went unto Sir Gareth, and said: "Sir, make ye good cheer; for wist [know] ye well that she loveth you as well as ye do her, and better if better may be."

"And I wist that," said Sir Gareth, "there lived not a gladder man than I would be."

"Upon my worship," said Sir Gringamor, "trust unto my promise; and as long as it liketh you ye shall sojourn with me, and this lady shall be with us daily and nightly to make you all the cheer that she can."

"I will well," said Sir Gareth, "for I have promised to be nigh this country this twelvemonth. And well I am sure King Arthur and other noble knights will find me where that I am within this twelvemonth. For I shall be sought and found, if that I be on live."

And then the noble knight Sir Gareth went unto the dame Lyoness, which he then much loved, and kissed her many times, and either made great joy of other. And there she promised him her love, certainly to love him and none other the days of her life. Then this lady, dame Lyoness, by the assent of her brother, told Sir Gareth all the truth what she was, and how she was the same lady that he did battle for, and how she was lady of the Castle Perilous. And there she told him how she caused her brother to take away his dwarf, "For this cause, to know the certainty what was your name, and of what kin ye were come."

And then she let fetch before him Linet the damsel, which had ridden with him many dreary ways. Then was Sir Gareth more gladder than he was tofore. And then they troth plight[17] each other to love, and never to fail while their life lasted.

BOOK IV

OF SIR TRISTRAM

There was a knight that hight Meliodas, and he was lord and king of the country of Lyonesse, and this King Meliodas was as likely a man as any was at that time living. And by fortune he wedded King Mark's sister of Cornwall, whose name was Elizabeth, and she was a right fair lady and a good.

[And it befell on a day that a certain enchantress wrought as he rode on hunting, for he was a great hunter, and made him chase an hart by himself till that he came to an old castle, and there she took him prisoner. Now when Queen Elizabeth missed her husband King Meliodas, she was nigh out of her wit; and she took a gentlewoman with her and ran far into the forest and took such cold that she might not recover. And when she saw] that the deep draughts of death took her, that needs she must die and depart out of this world [and] there was none other boot [aid, or hope], she made great moan and sorrow, and said unto her gentlewoman: "When ye see my lord King Meliodas, recommend me unto him, and tell him what pains I endure for his love, and how I must die here for his sake, and for default of good help, and let him wit that I am full sorry to depart out of this world from him, therefore pray him to be good friend unto my soul. And I charge thee, gentlewoman, that thou beseech my lord King Meliodas, that when my son shall be christened let him be named Tristram, that is as much to say as sorrowful birth."

And therewithal this Queen Elizabeth gave up her ghost, and died in the same place. Then the gentlewoman laid her under the shadow of a great tree.

[And it so happened that after seven years King Meliodas took him a second wife, and wedded King Howell's daughter of Brittany. And the new queen was jealous of young Tristram in the behalf of her own children, and put poison for Tristram to drink. But by strange hap her own son drank the poison and died. Then again she put poison in some drink for Tristram; and] by fortune the King Meliodas her husband found the piece [cup] with the wine whereas the poison was in, and he, that was most thirsty, took the piece for to drink thereof, and as he would have drunken thereof the queen espied him, and then she ran unto him and pulled the piece from him suddenly. The king marvelled why she did so, and remembered him how her son was suddenly slain with poison. And then he took her by the hand, and thus said to her: "Thou false traitress, thou shalt tell me what manner of drink this is, or else I shall slay thee." And therewith he pulled out his sword, and swore a great oath that he would slay her but if she told him truth.

"Ah! mercy, my lord," said she, "and I shall tell you all."

And then she told him why that she would have slain Tristram, because her children should rejoice the land.

"Well," said King Meliodas, "therefore shall ye have the law."

And so she was damned [condemned] by the assent of the barons to be burnt; and then there was made a great fire, and right as she was at the fire for to take her execution, young Tristram kneeled down before King Meliodas, his father, and besought him to give him a boon.

"I will well," said the king.

Then said young Tristram, "Give me the life of your queen, my stepmother."

"That is unrightfully asked," said his father, King Meliodas, "for she would have slain thee with that poison and she might have had her will, and for thy sake most is my cause that she should die."

"Sir," said Tristram, "as for that I beseech you of your mercy that ye will forgive it her, and as for my part, God forgive it her, and I do, and so much it liketh your highness to grant me my boon, for God's love I pray you hold your promise."

"Sith it is so," said the king, "I will that ye have her life and give her to you, and go ye to the fire and take her, and do with her what ye will."

So young Tristram went to the fire, and, by the command of the king, delivered her from the death.

And by the good means of young Tristram he made the king and her accord.

And then [King Meliodas] let ordain a gentleman that was well learned and taught; his name was Gouvernail; and he sent young Tristram with Gouvernail into France, to learn the language, and nurture, and deeds of arms. And there was Tristram more than seven years. And then when he well could speak the language, and had learned all that he might learn in that country, then he came home to his father King Meliodas again. And so Tristram learned to be an harper passing all other, that there was none such called in no country, and so in harping and on instruments of music he applied him in his youth for to learn. And after as he grew in might and strength he laboured ever in hunting and in hawking, so that never gentleman more, that ever we heard tell of.

Then it befell that King Anguish of Ireland sent to King Mark of Cornwall for his truage [tribute], which Cornwall had paid many winters afore time, and all that time King Mark was behind of the truage for seven years. And King Mark and his barons gave unto the messenger of Ireland this answer, and said that they would none pay, and bade the messenger go unto his King Anguish and tell him, "that we will pay him no truage; but tell your lord, and he will always have truage of us of Cornwall, bid him send a trusty knight of his land that will fight for his right, and we shall find another to defend our right." With this answer the messenger departed into Ireland. And when King Anguish understood the answer of the messenger, he was wondrous wroth; and then he called unto him Sir Marhaus the good knight that was nobly proved, and a knight of the Round Table. And this Sir Marhaus was brother unto the Queen of Ireland. Then the king [prayed Sir Marhaus that he would go and fight for his truage of Cornwall].

"Sir," said Sir Marhaus, "wit [know] ye well that I shall not be loth to do battle in the right of you and your land with the best knight of the Round Table, for I know what their deeds be, and for to increase my worship [worth-ship] I will right gladly go to this journey for our right."

So in all haste there was made purveyance for Sir Marhaus, and so he departed out of Ireland, and arrived up in Cornwall, even fast by the castle of Tintagil. And when King Mark understood that he was there arrived to fight for Ireland, then made King Mark great sorrow. For they knew no knight that durst have ado with him. For at that time Sir Marhaus was called one of the famousest and renowned knights of the world.

And thus Sir Marhaus abode in the sea, and every day he sent unto King Mark for to pay the truage that was behind of seven year, or else to find a knight to fight with him for the truage. Then they of Cornwall let make cries in every place, that what knight would fight for to save the truage of Cornwall he should be rewarded so that he should fare the better the term of his life. Then some of the barons said to King Mark, and counselled him to send to the court of King Arthur for to seek Sir Launcelot du Lake. Then there were some other barons that counselled the king not to do so, and said that it was labour in vain, because Sir Marhaus was a knight of the Round Table, therefore any of them will be loth to have ado with other. So the king and all his barons assented that it was no boot [help] to seek any knight of the Round Table. When young Tristram heard of this he was wroth and sore ashamed that there durst no knight in Cornwall have ado with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.

Therewithal Sir Tristram went unto his father King Meliodas, and asked him counsel what was best to do for to recover the country of Cornwall for truage. "For as me seemeth," said Sir Tristram, "it were shame that Sir Marhaus, the queen's brother of Ireland, should go away, unless that he were not fought withal."

"As for that," said King Meliodas, "wit ye well, my son Tristram, that Sir Marhaus is called one of the best knights of the world, and knight of the Round Table, and therefore I know no knight in this country that is able to match with him."

"Alas!" said Sir Tristram, "that I am not made knight, and if Sir Marhaus should thus depart into Ireland, God let me never have worship; and I were made knight I should match him; and sir," said Sir Tristram, "I pray you to give me leave to ride unto mine uncle King Mark, and so ye be not displeased, of King Mark will I be made knight."

"I will well," said King Meliodas, "that ye be ruled as your courage will rule you."

And then Sir Tristram thanked his father much, and so made him ready to ride into Cornwall. And in the mean while there came a messenger with letters of love from the daughter of King Faramon of France, unto Sir Tristram, that were full piteous letters, and in them were written many complaints of love. But Sir Tristram had no joy of her letters, nor regard unto her. Also she sent him a little brachet [hunting hound] that was passing fair. But when the king's daughter understood that Tristram would not love her, she died for sorrow. So this young Sir Tristram rode unto his uncle King Mark of Cornwall. And when he came there he heard say that there would no knight fight with Sir Marhaus. Then went Sir Tristram unto his uncle and said,—

"Sir, if ye will give me the order of knighthood I will do battle with Sir Marhaus."

"What are ye?" said the king, "and from whence be ye come?"

"Sir," said Tristram, "I come from King Meliodas that wedded your sister, and a gentleman wit ye well I am."

King Mark beheld Sir Tristram, and saw that he was but a young man of age, but he was passingly well made and big.

"Fair sir," said the king, "what is your name, and where were ye born?"

"Sir," said he again, "my name is Tristram, and in the country of Lyonesse was I born."

"Ye say well," said the king, "and if ye will do this battle I shall make you knight."

"Therefore I come to you," said Sir Tristram, "and for none other cause."

But then King Mark made him knight. And therewithal anon as he had made him knight, he sent a messenger unto Sir Marhaus with letters that said that he had found a young knight ready for to take the battle to the uttermost.

"It may well be," said Sir Marhaus; "but tell unto King Mark that I will not fight with no knight but if he be of blood royal, that is to say either king's son or queen's son, born of a prince or princess."

When King Mark understood that, he sent for Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and told him what was the answer of Sir Marhaus. Then said Sir Tristram,—

"Since he sayeth so, let him wit that I am come of father's side and mother's side of as noble blood as he is. For, sir, now shall ye know that I am King Meliodas' son, born of your own sister dame Elizabeth, that died in the forest in the birth of me."

"Yea!" said King Mark, "ye are welcome fair nephew to me."

Then in all the haste the king let horse Sir Tristram and arm him in the best manner that might be had or gotten for gold or silver. And then King Mark sent unto Sir Marhaus, and did him to wit [let him know] that a better born man than he was himself should fight with him, and his name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, [son of] King Meliodas, and born of King Mark's sister. Then was Sir Marhaus glad and blithe that he should fight with such a gentleman. And so by the assent of King Mark and Sir Marhaus they let ordain that they should fight within an island nigh Sir Marhaus' ships; and so was young Sir Tristram put into a little vessel, both his horse and he, and all that to him belonged both for his body and for his horse, so that Sir Tristram lacked no manner thing. And when King Mark and his barons of Cornwall beheld how young Sir Tristram departed with such a carriage [that is, carrying himself so bravely] to fight for the right of Cornwall, wit ye well there was neither man nor woman of worship but they wept for to see so young a knight jeopard himself for their right.

For to make short this tale, that when Sir Tristram was arrived within the island, then he looked to the further side, and there he saw at an anchor six ships nigh to the land, and under the shadow of the ships, upon the land, there hoved [hovered] the noble knight Sir Marhaus of Ireland. And then Sir Tristram commanded his servant Gouvernail for to bring his horse to the land, and dress his harness at all manner of rights. And when he had so done, he mounted upon his horse. And when he was in his saddle well apparelled, and his shield dressed upon his shoulder, Sir Tristram asked Gouvernail, "Where is this knight that I shall have to do withal?"

"Sir," said his servant Gouvernail, "see ye him not? I wend ye had seen him, yonder he hoveth under the shadow of his ships upon horseback, and his spear in his hand, and his shield upon his shoulder."

"It is truth," said Sir Tristram, "now I see him well enough."

And then he commanded his servant Gouvernail to go again unto his vessel, and commend him "unto mine uncle King Mark, and pray him that if I be slain in this battle, for to bury my body as him seemeth best, and, as for me, let him wit that I will never yield me for no cowardice, and if I be slain and flee not, then have they lost no truage for me. And if so be that I flee or yield me as recreant, bid mine uncle never bury me in Christian burials. And upon my life," said Sir Tristram to Gouvernail, "come thou not nigh this island till thou see me overcome or slain, or else that I win yonder knight."

And so either departed from other weeping.

And then Sir Marhaus perceived Sir Tristram, and thus said unto him: "Young knight Sir Tristram, what doest thou here? Me sore repenteth of thy courage, for wit thou well I have matched with the best knights of the world, and therefore by my counsel return again to thy ship."

"Fair knight and well proved knight," said Sir Tristram, "thou shalt well wit that I may not forsake thee in this quarrel, for I am for thy sake made knight, and thou shalt well wit that I am a king's son born, and such promise have I made at mine uncle's request and mine own seeking, that I shall fight with thee unto the uttermost, to deliver Cornwall from the old truage. Also wit ye well, Sir Marhaus, that for ye are called one of the best renowned knights of the world, and because of that noise and fame that ye have, it will do me good to have to do with you, for never yet sith [since] that I was born of my mother was I proved with a good knight, and also sith I have taken the high order of knighthood this day, I am right well pleased that I may have to do with so good a knight as ye are. And now wit ye well, Sir Marhaus of Ireland, that I cast me to win worship on thy body, I trust to God I shall be worshipfully proved upon thy body and for to deliver the country of Cornwall forever from all manner of truage from Ireland."

And when the good knight Sir Marhaus had heard him say what him list, then said he thus again: "Fair knight, sith it is so that thou castest thee to win worship on me, I let thee wit that no worship maist thou leese [lose] by me, if thou mayst stand me three strokes, for I let you wit that for my noble deeds, proved and seen, King Arthur made me knight of the Table Round." Then they began to feuter [place in rest] their spears, and they met so fiercely together that they smote either other down both horse and all. But Sir Marhaus smote Sir Tristram a great wound in the side with his spear, and then they avoided their horses, and pulled out their swords, and threw their shields afore them, and then they lashed together as men than were wild and courageous. And when they had stricken so together long, then they left their strokes, and foined [thrust, in feinting]; and when they saw that that might not prevail them, then they hurtled together like rams to bear either other down. Thus they fought still more than half a day, and either were wounded passing sore, that the blood ran down freshly from them upon the ground. By then Sir Tristram waxed more fresher than Sir Marhaus, and better winded and bigger, and with a mighty stroke he smote Sir Marhaus upon the helm such a buffet, that it went through his helm, and through the coif of steel, and through the brain-pan, and the sword stuck so fast in the helm and in his brain-pan that Sir Tristram pulled thrice at his sword or ever he might pull it out from his head, and there Marhaus fell down on his knees, [and a piece of] the edge of Tristram's sword [was] left in his brain-pan. And suddenly Sir Marhaus rose grovelling, and threw his sword and his shield from him, and so ran to his ships and fled his way, and Sir Tristram had ever his shield and his sword. And when Sir Tristram saw Sir Marhaus withdraw him, he said, "Ah, sir knight of the Round Table, why withdrawest thou thee; thou doest thyself and thy kin great shame, for I am but a young knight, or now I was never proved, and rather than I should withdraw me from thee, I had rather be hewn in an hundred pieces." Sir Marhaus answered no word, but went his way sore groaning.

Anon Sir Marhaus and his fellowship departed into Ireland. And as soon as he came to the king his brother he let search his wounds. And when his head was searched, a piece of Sir Tristram's sword was found therein, and might never be had out of his head for no surgeons, and so he died of Sir Tristram's sword, and that piece of the sword the queen his sister kept it for ever with her, for she thought to be revenged and she might.

Now turn we again unto Sir Tristram, that was sore wounded, and full sore bled, that he might not within a little while when he had taken cold scarcely stir him of his limbs. And then he set him down softly upon a little hill, and bled fast. Then anon came Gouvernail his man with his vessel, and the king and his barons came with procession, and when he was come to the land, King Mark took him in both his arms, and the king and Sir Dinas the seneschal led Sir Tristram into the castle of Tintagil, and then were his wounds searched in the best manner, and laid in bed. And when King Mark saw all his wounds, he wept right heartily, and so did all his lords.

"So God me help," said King Mark, "I would not for all my lands that my nephew died."

So Sir Tristram lay there a month and more, and was like to have died of the stroke that Sir Marhaus had given him first with his spear. For, as the French book saith, that spear's head was envenomed, that Sir Tristram might not be whole thereof. Then was King Mark and all his barons passing heavy, for they deemed none other but that Sir Tristram should not recover. So the king let send after all manner of leeches and surgeons, both men and women, and there was none that would warrant him his life. Then came there a lady, which was a full wise lady, and she said plainly unto King Mark and unto Sir Tristram and unto all the barons, that he should never be whole, but if Sir Tristram went into the same country that the venom came from, and in that country should he be holpen or else never. When King Mark had well heard what the lady said, forthwith he let purvey for Sir Tristram a fair vessel, and well victualled it, and therein was put Sir Tristram and Gouvernail with him, and Sir Tristram took his harp with him, and so he was put to sea, for to sail into Ireland, and so by good fortune he arrived up into Ireland even fast by a castle where the king and the queen were, and at his arriving he sat and harped in his bed a merry lay, such one had they never heard in Ireland afore that time. And when it was told the king and the queen of such a knight that was such a harper, anon the king sent for him, and let search his wound, and then he asked him what was his name. He answered and said,

"I am of the country of Lyonesse, and my name is Tramtrist, [and I have] been wounded in a battle as I fought for a lady's right."

"Truly," said King Anguish, "ye shall have all the help in this land that ye may have here. But I let you wit in Cornwall I had a great loss as ever had king, for there I lost the best knight of the world, his name was Marhaus, a full noble knight, and knight of the Table Round;" and there he told Sir Tristram wherefore Sir Marhaus was slain. Sir Tristram made semblant [like] as he had been sorry, and better knew he how it was than the king.

Then the king for great favour made Tramtrist to be put in his daughter's ward and keeping, because she was a noble surgeon. And when she had searched his wound, she found in the bottom of his wound that there was poison, and within a little while she healed him, and therefore Tramtrist cast great love to la Belle Isolde, for she was at that time the fairest lady of the world, and then Sir Tramtrist [taught] her to harp, and she began to have a great fantasy unto Sir Tramtrist. And at that time Sir Palamides, that was a Saracen, was in that country, and was well cherished both of the king and the queen, and he proffered her many great gifts, for he loved her passing well. And all that espied right well Sir Tramtrist, and full well he knew Sir Palamides for a noble knight and a mighty man.

Thus was there great envy between Sir Tramtrist and Sir Palamides. Then it befell that King Anguish let cry a great joust and a great tournament for a lady which was called the lady of the lawns, and she was nigh cousin unto the king, and what man that should win her should wed her three days after, and have all her lands. This cry was made in England, Wales, and Scotland, and also in France and in Britain. It befell upon a day la Belle Isolde came to Sir Tramtrist and told him of this tournament.

"Ah! Tramtrist," said la Belle Isolde, "why will ye not have to do at that tournament? well I wot Sir Palamides will be there and do what he may, and therefore, Sir Tramtrist, I pray you to be there, for else Sir Palamides is like to win the degree."

"Madam," said Sir Tramtrist, "as for that he may do so, for he is a proved knight, and I am but a young knight and late made, and the first battle that I did it mishapped me to be sore wounded as ye see. But and I wist [if I knew] that ye would be my better lady, at that tournament I will be, so that ye will keep my counsel, and let no creature have knowledge that I shall joust but yourself, and such as ye will to keep your counsel; my poor person shall I jeopard there for your sake, that peradventure Sir Palamides shall know when that I come."

"Thereto," said la Belle Isolde, "do your best, and as I can," said la Belle Isolde, "I shall purvey horse and armor for you at my devise."

"As ye will so be it," said Sir Tramtrist, "I will be at your commandment."

So at the day of jousts there came Sir Palamides with a black shield, and he overthrew many knights, that all the people had marvel of him. For he put to the worse Sir Gawaine, Gaheris, Agravaine, Bagdemagus, Kay, Dodinas le Savage, Sagramor le Desirous, Gumret le Petit, and Griflet le Fise de Dieu. All these the first day Sir Palamides strake down to the earth. And then all manner of knights were adread of Sir Palamides, and many called him the knight with the black shield. So that day Sir Palamides had great worship. Then came King Anguish unto Tramtrist and asked him why he would not joust.

"Sir," said he, "I was but late hurt, and as yet I dare not adventure me."

And so on the morn Sir Palamides made him ready to come into the field as he did the first day. And there he smote down the king with the hundred knights, and the King of Scotland. Then had la Belle Isolde ordained and well arrayed Sir Tramtrist in white horse and harness. And right so she let put him out at a privy postern, and so he came into the field as it had been a bright angel. And anon Sir Palamides espied him, and therewith he feutered [laid in rest] a spear unto Sir Tramtrist, and he again unto him. And there Sir Tristram smote down Sir Palamides unto the earth. And then there was a great noise of people: some said Sir Palamides had a fall, some said the knight with the black shield had a fall. And wit you well la Belle Isolde was passing glad. And then Sir Gawaine and his fellows nine had marvel what knight it might be that had smitten down Sir Palamides. Then would there none joust with Tramtrist, but all that were there forsook him, most and least. And when Sir Palamides had received this fall, wit ye well he was sore ashamed; and as privily as he might he withdrew him out of the field. All that espied Sir Tristram, and lightly he rode after Sir Palamides, and overtook him, and bade him turn, for better he would assay him or ever he departed. Then Sir Palamides turned him, and either lashed at other with their swords. But at the first stroke Sir Tristram smote down Palamides, and gave him such a stroke upon the head that he fell to the earth. So then Tristram bade yield him and do his commandment, or else he would slay him. And when Sir Palamides beheld his countenance, he dread sore his buffets, so that he granted him all his asking.

"Well," said Sir Tristram unto him, "this shall be your charge. First, upon pain of your life, that ye forsake my lady la Belle Isolde, and in no manner of wise that ye draw unto her, and also these twelve months and a day that ye bear none armor nor in like wise no harness of war. Now promise me this, or here shalt thou die."

"Alas!" said Sir Palamides, "now am I for ever shamed."

And then he swore as Sir Tristram had commanded him. Then for great despite and anger, Sir Palamides cut off his harness and threw it away.

And then Sir Tristram rode privily unto the postern where la Belle Isolde kept him, and then she made him good cheer, and thanked God of his good speed.

Thus was Sir Tramtrist long there well cherished with the king and queen and namely [likewise] with la Belle Isolde. So upon a day the queen and la Belle Isolde made a bayne [bath] for Sir Tramtrist, and when he was in his bayne, the queen and her daughter la Belle Isolde roamed up and down in the chamber, and there whiles Gouvernail and Hebes attended upon Tramtrist, and the queen beheld his sword whereas it lay upon his bed. And then by unhap the queen drew out his sword and beheld it a long while, and both they thought it a passing fair sword, but within a foot and an half of the point there was a great piece broken out of the edge. And when the queen espied that gap in the sword, she remembered of a piece of a sword that was found in the brain-pan of the good knight Sir Marhaus that was her brother.

"Alas!" said she then to her daughter la Belle Isolde. "This is the same traitorous knight that slew my brother thine uncle."

When la Belle Isolde heard her say so, she was then passing sore abashed, for she loved Sir Tramtrist passingly well, and right well she knew the cruelness of her mother the queen. And so anon therewith the queen went in all the haste that she might unto her own chamber, and then she sought in a coffer that she had, and there she found and took out the piece of the sword that was taken out of her brother's head Sir Marhaus, after that he was dead. And then anon she ran with the same piece of iron unto Sir Tramtrist's sword which lay upon the bed, and so when she put the same piece of steel and iron unto the same sword, it was then as fit as ever it might be when it was first new broken. And so forthwith the queen caught that sword fiercely in her hand, and with all her might she ran straight unto Tramtrist where he sat in a bayne, and there she had run him through had not Sir Hebes gotten her in his arms and pulled the sword from her, and else she had thrust him through. When she was thus letted of her evil will, she ran to King Anguish her husband, and fell on her knees before him, saying, "Oh, my lord and husband, here have ye in your house that traitor knight that slew my brother and your servant, that noble knight Sir Marhaus."

"Who is that," said King Anguish, "and where is he?"

"Sir," said she, "it is Sir Tramtrist, the same knight that my daughter hath healed."

"Alas!" said King Anguish, "therefore am I right neavy, for he is a full noble knight as ever I saw in field, but I charge you," said the king to the queen, "that ye have not to do with this knight, but let me deal with him."

Then the king went into the chamber to Sir Tramtrist, that then was gone unto his chamber, and then the king found him all armed, ready to mount upon his horse. And when the king saw him all ready armed to mount on horseback, the king said, "Nay, Tramtrist, it will not avail thee to compare against me. But thus much will I do for my worship, and for thy love: in so much as thou art within this court, it were no worship for me to slay thee, therefore upon this condition I will give thee leave to depart from this court in safety, so that thou wilt tell me who is thy father, and what is thy name, and if thou slew my brother Sir Marhaus."

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "now shall I tell you all the truth; my father's name is Meliodas, King of Lyonesse, and my mother hight Elizabeth, that was sister unto King Mark of Cornwall, and my mother died of me in the forest, and because thereof she commanded or she died that when I were christened that they should name me Tristram, and because I would not be known in this country, I turned my name, and let call me Tramtrist; and for the truage of Cornwall, I fought for mine uncle's sake, and for the right of Cornwall that ye had possessed many years. And wit ye well," said Tristram unto the king, "I did the battle for the love of mine uncle King Mark, and for the love of the country of Cornwall, and for to increase mine honor. For that same day that I fought with Sir Marhaus I was made knight, and never or then did I know battle with no knight, and from me he went alive, and left his shield and his sword behind."

"Truly," said the king, "I may not say but ye did as a knight should, and it was your part to do for your quarrel, and to increase your worship as a knight should; howbeit I may not maintain you in this country with my worship, unless that I should displease my barons, and my wife, and her kin."

"Sir," said Tristram, "I thank you of your good lordship that I have had with you here, and the great goodness my lady your daughter hath showed me, and therefore," said Sir Tristram, "it may so happen that ye shall win more by my life than by my death, for in the parts of England it may happen I may do you service at some season that ye shall be glad that ever ye showed me your good lordship. With more I promise you as I am true knight, that in all places I shall be my lady your daughter's servant and knight in right and in wrong, and I shall never fail her to do as much as a knight may do. Also I beseech your good grace that I may take my leave at my lady your daughter, and at all the barons and knights."

"I will well," said the king.

Then Sir Tristram went unto la Belle Isolde, and took his leave of her. And then he told her all, what he was, and how he had changed his name because he would not be known, and how a lady told him that he should never be whole till he came into this country where the poison was made: "Wherethrough I was near my death, had not your ladyship been."

"Oh, gentle knight," said la Belle Isolde, "full woe am I of thy departing, for I saw never man that I owed so good will to." And therewithal she wept heartily.

"Madam," said Sir Tristram, "ye shall understand that my name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and I promise you faithfully that I shall be all the days of my life your knight."

"Sir, gramercy," said la Belle Isolde, "and there again I promise you that I shall not be married of this seven year but if it be by your assent, and to whom ye will I shall be married, him shall I have, if he will have me, if ye will consent."

And then Sir Tristram gave her a ring, and she gave him another, and therewith he departed from her, leaving her making full great moan and lamentation, and he went straight unto the court among all the barons, and there he took his leave of most and least, and openly among them all he said: "Fair lords, now it is so that I must depart from hence, if there be any man here that I have offended unto, or that any man be with me grieved, let him complain here before me or I depart from hence, and I shall amend it unto my power. And if there be any that will proffer me wrong, or to say of me wrong or shame behind my back, say it now or never, and here is my body to make it good, body against body."

And all they stood still, there was not one that would say one word, yet were there some knights which were of the queen's blood and of Sir Marhaus' blood, but they would not meddle with him.

So Sir Tristram departed and took the sea, and with good wind he arrived up at Tintagil in Cornwall. And when King Mark was whole and in his prosperity, there came tidings that Sir Tristram was arrived and whole of his wound, whereof King Mark was passing glad, and so were all the barons. And when he saw his time, he rode unto his father King Meliodas, and there he had all the cheer that the king and the queen could make him. And then largely King Meliodas and his queen parted of their lands and goods unto Sir Tristram. So then by the license [leave] of King Meliodas his father, he returned again unto the court of King Mark, and there he lived in great joy long time, until at the last there befell a jealousy and an unkindness between King Mark and Sir Tristram.

Then King Mark cast always in his heart how he might destroy Sir Tristram. And then he imagined in himself to send Sir Tristram into Ireland for la Belle Isolde. For Sir Tristram had so praised her beauty and her goodness that King Mark said he would wed her, whereupon he prayed Sir Tristram to take his way into Ireland for him on message. And all this was done to the intent to slay Sir Tristram. Notwithstanding, Sir Tristram would not refuse the message for no danger nor peril that might fall for the pleasure of his uncle, but to go he made him ready in the most goodliest wise that might be devised. So Sir Tristram departed and took the sea with all his fellowship. And anon as he was in the broad sea, a tempest took him and his fellowship and drove them back into the coast of England, and there they arrived fast by Camelot, and full fain they were to take the land. And when they were landed Sir Tristram set up his pavilion upon the land of Camelot, and there he let hang his shield upon the pavilion.

Then when Sir Tristram was in his rich pavilion, Gouvernail his man came and told him how King Anguish of Ireland was come there, and how he was put in great distress; and there Gouvernail told to Sir Tristram how King Anguish of Ireland was summoned and accused of murder.

"So God me help," said Sir Tristram, "these be the best tidings that ever came to me this seven year, for now shall the King of Ireland have need of my help, for I dare say there is no knight in this country that is not of King Arthur's court dare do no battle with Sir Blamor de Ganis; and for to win the love of the King of Ireland, I shall take the battle upon me; and therefore, Gouvernail, I charge thee to bring me to the king."

And so Gouvernail went unto King Anguish of Ireland, and saluted him fair. The king welcomed him, and asked him what he would.

"Sir," said Gouvernail, "here is a knight near hand which desireth to speak with you; and he bade me say that he would do you service."

"What knight is he?" said the king.

"Sir," said he, "it is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, that for the good grace that ye showed unto him in your land, he will reward you in this country."

"Come on, good fellow," said the king, "with me, and show me Sir Tristram."

So the king took a little hackney and a little company with him, until he came unto Sir Tristram's pavilion. And when Sir Tristram saw King Anguish, he ran unto him, and would have holden his stirrup. But anon the king leapt lightly from his horse, and either halsed [embraced] other in their arms.

"My gracious lord," said Sir Tristram, "gramercy of your great goodness that ye showed to me in your marches and lands. And at that time I promised you to do you service and ever it lay in my power."

"Ah, worshipful knight," said the king unto Sir Tristram, "now have I great need of you; for never had I so great need of no knight's help."

"How so, my good lord?" said Sir Tristram.

"I shall tell you," said King Anguish; "I am summoned and appealed from my country for the death of a knight that was kin unto the good knight Sir Launcelot, wherefore Sir Blamor de Ganis, brother to Sir Bleoberis, hath appealed me to fight with him, other [or else] to find a knight in my stead. And well I wot," said the king, "these that are come of King Ban's blood, as Sir Launcelot and these other, are passing good knights, and hard men for to win in battle as any that I know now living."

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "for the good lordship ye showed me in Ireland, and for my lady your daughter's sake, la Belle Isolde, I will take the battle for you upon this condition that ye shall grant me two things: that one is, that ye shall swear to me that ye are in the right, that ye were never consenting to the knight's death; sir, then," said Sir Tristram, "when that I have done this battle, if God give me grace that I speed, that ye shall give me a reward, what thing reasonable that I will ask of you."

"Truly," said the king, "ye shall have whatsoever ye will ask."

"It is well said," said Sir Tristram.

Then were the lists made ready, and Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor de Ganis, in the presence of the kings, judges, and knights, feutered [laid in rest] their spears and came together as it had been thunder, and there Sir Tristram through great might smote down Sir Blamor and his horse to the earth. Then anon Sir Blamor avoided his horse, and pulled out his sword and threw his shield afore him, and bade Sir Tristram alight; "for though an horse hath failed me, I trust the earth will not fail me."

And then Sir Tristram alighted and dressed him unto battle, and there they lashed together strongly as racing and tracing, foining and dashing many sad strokes, that the kings and knights had great wonder that they might stand, for ever they fought like two wild men, so that there were never knights seen fight more fiercely than they did; for Sir Blamor was so hasty that he would have no rest, that all men wondered that they had breath to stand on their feet; all the place was bloody that they fought in. And at the last Sir Tristram smote Sir Blamor such a buffet upon the helm that he fell down upon his side, and Sir Tristram stood and beheld him.

Then when Sir Blamor might speak, he said thus:—

"Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, I require thee, as thou art a noble knight, and the best knight that ever I found, that thou wilt slay me out of hand [straightway], for I had liever die with worship than live with shame, and needs, Sir Tristram, thou must slay me, or else thou shalt never win the field, for I will never say the loth word [of surrender]; and therefore, if thou dare slay me, slay me, I require thee."

And when Sir Tristram heard him say so knightly, he wist not what to do with him. And then Sir Tristram started aback and went to the kings which were judges; and there he kneeled down before them, and besought them for their worship, and for King Arthur and Sir Launcelot's sake, that they would take this matter in their hands:

"For, fair lords," said Sir Tristram, "it were shame and pity that this noble knight that yonder lieth should be slain, for ye may well hear that shamed he will not be, and I pray to God that he never be slain nor shamed for me. And as for the king for whom I do this battle, I shall require him, as I am his true champion and true knight in this field, that he will have mercy upon this good knight."

"So God me help," said King Anguish to Sir Tristram, "I will be ruled for your sake as ye will have me. For I know you for my true knight, and therefore I will heartily pray the kings that be here as judges for to take it into their hands."

And then the kings which were judges called Sir Bleoberis unto them and demanded his advice.

"My lord," said Sir Bleoberis, "though that my brother be beaten and both the worse through might of arms, I dare well say though Sir Tristram hath beaten his body he hath not beaten his heart; I thank God he is not shamed this day. And rather than he should be shamed, I require you," said Sir Bleoberis, "let Sir Tristram slay him out of hand [immediately]."

"It shall not be so," said the kings, "for his adverse party, both the king and the champion, hath pity of Sir Blamor's knighthood."

"My lords," said Sir Bleoberis, "I will right well as ye will."

Then the kings called to them the King of Ireland, and found him good and treatable [willing to agree]. And then by all their advices Sir Tristram and Sir Bleoberis took up Sir Blamor. And the two brethren were accorded with King Anguish; and kissed each other and were made friends for ever. And then Sir Blamor and Sir Tristram kissed each other, and then the two brethren made their oaths that they would never fight with Sir Tristram. And Sir Tristram made the same oath. And for that gentle battle all the blood of Sir Launcelot loved Sir Tristram for ever more. Then King Anguish and Sir Tristram took their leave and sailed into Ireland with great joy and nobleness. So when they were in Ireland, the king let make it be known throughout all the land how and in what manner Sir Tristram had done for him. And then the queen and all the estates that were there made as much of him as ever they might make; but the joy that la Belle Isolde made of Sir Tristram, that might no tongue tell, for of men living she loved him most.

Then upon a day King Anguish asked Sir Tristram why he asked not his boon, for whatsoever he had promised him he should have it without fail.

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "now is it time, this is all that I will desire, that ye will give me la Belle Isolde, your daughter, not for myself, but for mine uncle King Mark, that shall have her to wife, for so have I promised him."

"Alas," said the king, "I had liever than all the land that I have ye would wed her yourself."

"Sir, and I did, then were I shamed for ever in this world, and false of my promise. Therefore," said Sir Tristram, "I pray you hold your promise that ye promised me, for this is my desire, that ye will give me la Belle Isolde to go with me into Cornwall, for to be wedded to King Mark mine uncle."

"As for that," said King Anguish, "ye shall have her with you, to do with her what it please you, that is for to say if that ye list to wed her yourself, that is to me lievest, and if ye will give her unto King Mark your uncle, that is in your choice."

So to make a short conclusion, la Belle Isolde was made ready to go with Sir Tristram, and dame Bragwaine went with her for her chief gentlewoman, with many other.

And anon they were richly wedded with great nobleness. But ever Sir Tristram and la Belle Isolde loved ever together.

Then was there great jousts and great tourneying, and many lords and ladies were at that feast, and Sir Tristram was most praised of all other.

[Then, as time passed by, Sir Tristram grieved sorely in his heart that la Belle Isolde was wedded to King Mark, till that he became as a wood man, and mounted his horse and rode forth into the forest away from Tintagil. So Sir Palamides sent a damsel to inquire after Sir Tristram.]

And she went to the lady of

"Alas," said the lady of that castle, "where is my lord Sir Tristram?"

"Right here by your castle," said the damsel.

"In good time," said the lady, "is he so nigh me: he shall have meat and drink of the best, and a harp I have of his whereupon he taught me,—for of goodly harping he beareth the prize in the world."

So this lady and the damsel brought him meat and drink, but he eat little thereof. Then upon a night he put his horse from him, and then he unlaced his armor, and then Sir Tristram would go into the wilderness, and burst down the trees and boughs; and otherwhile, when he found the harp that the lady sent him, then would he harp and play thereupon and weep together. And sometime when Sir Tristram was in the wood, that the lady wist not where he was, then would she sit her down and play upon that harp; then would Sir Tristram come to that harp and hearken thereto, and sometime he would harp himself. Thus he there endured a quarter of a year. Then at the last he ran his way, and she wist not where he was become. And then was he naked, and waxed lean and poor of flesh, and so he fell into the fellowship of herdmen and shepherds, and daily they would give him of their meat and drink. And when he did any shrewd deed they would beat him with rods, and so they clipped him with shears and made him like a fool.

And upon a day Sir Dagonet, King Arthur's fool, came into Cornwall, with two squires with him, and as they rode through the forest they came by a fair well where Sir Tristram was wont to be, and the weather was hot, and they alighted to drink of that well, and in the meanwhile their horses brake loose. Right so Sir Tristram came unto them, and first he soused Sir Dagonet in that well, and after his squires, and thereat laughed the shepherds, and forthwithal he ran after their horses, and brought them again one by one, and right so, wet as they were, he made them leap up and ride their ways. Thus Sir Tristram endured here an half year naked, and would never come in town nor village.

And there was a giant in that country that hight Tauleas, and for fear of Sir Tristram more than seven years he durst not much go out at large, but for the most part he kept him in a sure castle of his own. And so this Sir Tauleas heard tell that Sir Tristram was dead by the noise of the court of King Mark, and then Sir Tauleas went daily at large. And so it happened upon a day he came to the herdmen wandering and lingering, and there he set him down to rest among them. The meanwhile there came a knight of Cornwall that led a lady with him, and his name was Sir Dinant. And when the giant saw him, he went from the herdmen and hid him under a tree. And so the knight came to the well, and there he alighted to rest him. And as soon as he was from his horse, the giant Sir Tauleas came between the knight and his horse, and leaped upon him. So forthwith he rode unto Sir Dinant, and took him by the collar, and drew him before him on his horse, and there would have stricken off his head. Then the herdmen said unto Sir Tristram, "Help yonder knight."

"Help ye him," said Sir Tristram.

"We dare not," said the herdmen.

Then Sir Tristram was ware of the sword of the knight where it lay, and thither he ran and took up the sword, and smote off Sir Tauleas' head, and so went his way to the herdmen again.

Then the knight took up the giant's head, and bare it with him unto King Mark, and told him what adventure betid him in the forest, and how a naked man rescued him from the grimly giant Tauleas.

"Where had ye this adventure?" said King Mark.

"Forsooth," said Sir Dinant, "at the fair fountain in your forest, where many adventurous knights meet, and there is the mad man."

"Well," said King Mark, "I will see that mad man."

So within a day or two King Mark commanded his knights and his hunters that they should be ready on the morrow for to hunt. And on the morrow he went unto the forest. And when the king came to the well, he found there lying by that well a fair naked man, and a sword by him. Then the king blew and screked [called shrilly] and therewith his knights came to him. And then the king commanded his knights to take that naked man with fairness, "and bring him to my castle." So they did softly and fair, and cast mantles upon Sir Tristram, and so led him unto Tintagil; and there they bathed him and washed him, and gave him hot suppings, till they had brought him well to his remembrance. But all this while there was no creature that knew Sir Tristram, nor what man he was. So it fell upon a day that the queen la Belle Isolde heard of such a man that ran naked in the forest, and how the king had brought him home to the court. Then la Belle Isolde called unto her dame Bragwaine, and said, "Come on with me, for we will go see this man that my lord brought from the forest the last day."

So they passed forth, and asked where was the sick man. And then a squire told the queen that he was in the garden taking his rest, and reposing him against the sun. So when the queen looked upon Sir Tristram she was not remembered of [did not remember] him. But ever she said unto dame Bragwaine, "Me seemeth I should have seen him heretofore in many places."

But as soon as Sir Tristram saw her he knew her well enough, and then he turned away his visage and wept. Then the queen had always a little brachet with her, that Sir Tristram gave her the first time that ever she came into Cornwall, and never would that brachet depart from her, but if Sir Tristram was nigh there as was la Belle Isolde; and this brachet was sent from the king's daughter of France unto Sir Tristram for great love. And anon as this little brachet felt a savor of Sir Tristram, she leaped upon him, and licked his learis [cheeks] and his ears, and then she whined and quested, and she smelled at his feet and at his hands, and on all parts of his body that she might come to.

"Ah, my lady," said dame Bragwaine unto la Belle Isolde, "alas, alas!" said she, "I see it is mine own lord Sir Tristram."

And thereupon Isolde fell down in a sowne [swoon], and so lay a great while; and when she might speak, she said: "My lord Sir Tristram, blessed be God ye have your life, and now I am sure ye shall be discovered by this little brachet, for she will never leave you; and also I am sure that as soon as my lord King Mark shall know you, he will banish you out of the country of Cornwall, or else he will destroy you. For God's sake, mine own lord, grant King Mark his will, and then draw you unto the court of King Arthur, for there are ye beloved."

Then la Belle Isolde departed, but the brachet would not from him. And therewith came King Mark, and the brachet set upon him, and bayed at them all. And therewith Sir Andret spake and said: "Sir, this is Sir Tristram, I see by the brachet."

"Nay," said the king, "I cannot suppose that it is he."

So the king asked him upon his faith what he was, and what was his name.

"So God help," said he, "my name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and now ye may do with me what ye list."

And so, by the advice of them all, Sir Tristram was banished out of the country of Cornwall for ten year, and thereupon he took his oath.

And then were many barons brought him into his ship. And when Sir Tristram was in the ship, he said thus: "Greet well King Mark and all mine enemies, and tell them I will come again when I may. And well I am rewarded for the fighting with Sir Marhaus, and delivering all the country from servage [subjection]. And well I am rewarded for the fetching and costs of la Belle Isolde out of Ireland, and the danger that I was in first and last, and by the way coming home what danger I had to bring again Queen Isolde from the castle. And well I am rewarded when I fought with Sir Bleoberis for Sir Segwarides' wife. And well am I rewarded when I fought with Sir Blamor de Ganis for King Anguish, father unto la Belle Isolde. And well am I rewarded when I smote down the good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis at King Mark's request. And well am I rewarded when I fought with the king with the hundred knights, and the King of Northgalis, and both these would have put his land in servage, and by me they were put to a rebuke. And well am I rewarded for the slaying of Tauleas the mighty giant, and many moe deeds have I done for him, and now have I my guerdon. And tell the King Mark that many noble knights of the Round Table have spared the barons of this country for my sake. Also I am not well rewarded when I fought with the good knight Sir Palamides, and rescued Queen Isolde from him. And at that time King Mark said before all his barons I should have been better rewarded." And therewith he took the sea.

[In those days was holden a great tournament at the Castle of Maidens, and thereto came Sir Tristram, for King Arthur was there, with his knights, and a goodly press of other kings, lords and ladies. And Sir Tristram let make him a black shield, and therewith was he ever to be known in the midst of the knights. And Sir Tristram overthrew eleven knights of Sir Launcelot's kin in one day, and jousted with King Arthur and with Sir Launcelot in such wise that all men wondered. And at the last Sir Tristram was sore wounded, and rode away into a forest. But Sir Launcelot held away the stour [fight] like as a man enraged that took no heed to himself.] And because Sir Launcelot was the last in the field the prize was given him. But Sir Launcelot would neither for king, queen, nor knight have the prize; but when the cry was cried through the field, "Sir Launcelot. Sir Launcelot, hath won the field this day!" Sir Launcelot let make another cry contrary to that cry: "Sir Tristram hath won the field, for he began first, and last he hath endured, and so hath he done the first day, the second, and the third day."

[And so King Arthur and Sir Launcelot and more knights rode forth for to find Sir Tristram. And after many adventures it happened that Sir Launcelot passed by the tomb of Sir Lanceor (him that was slain by Balin) and his lady Colombe. And by that same tomb came Sir Tristram: and neither knew the other, but Sir Tristram weened it to have been Sir Palamides. Then they two fought, and each wounded other wonderly sore, that the blood ran out upon the grass. And thus they fought the space of four hours. And at the last either knew other. Then cried Sir Launcelot,] "Oh, what adventure is befallen me!"

And therewith Sir Launcelot kneeled down and yielded him up his sword. And therewithal Sir Tristram kneeled adown, and yielded him up his sword. And so either gave other the degree. And then they both forthwithal went to the stone, and set them down upen it, and took off their helms to cool them, and either kissed other an hundred times. And then anon after they took their helms and rode to Camelot. And there they met with Sir Gawaine and with Sir Gaheris that had made promise to Arthur never to come again to the court till they had brought Sir Tristram with them.

Then King Arthur took Sir Tristram by the hand, and led him unto the Round Table. Then came Queen Guenever, and many ladies with her, and all these ladies said, all with one voice, "Welcome, Sir Tristram;" "welcome," said the damsels; "welcome," said the knights; "welcome," said King Arthur, "for one of the best knights and gentlest of the world, and knight of the most worship; for of all manner of hunting thou bearest the prize, and of all measures of blowing thou art the beginner, and of all the terms of hunting and hawking ye are the beginner; of all instruments of music ye are the best. Therefore, gentle knight," said King Arthur, "ye are right heartily welcome unto this court. And also I pray you," said King Arthur, "grant me a boon."

"It shall be at your commandment," said Sir Tristram.

"Well," said King Arthur, "I will desire of you that ye will abide in my court."

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "thereto am I loth, for I have to do in many countries."

"Not so," said King Arthur, "ye have promised it me, ye may not say nay."

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "I will as ye will."

Then went King Arthur unto the sieges about the Round Table, and looked in every siege which were void that lacked knights. And the king then saw in the siege of Marhaus letters that said:—

"This is the siege of the noblest knight Sir Tristram."

And then King Arthur made Sir Tristram knight of the Round Table, with great nobleness and great feast as might be thought.

Then King Mark had great despite of the renown of Sir Tristram. So he sent on his part men to espy what deeds he did. And when the messengers were come home, they told the truth as they heard, that he passed all other knights but if it were the noble knight Sir Launcelot. Then in great despite he took with him two good knights and two squires, and disguised himself, and took his way into England, to the intent to slay him.

[And it happened that Sir Dinadan met King Mark, and began to mock him for a Cornish knight of no worship. And] right as they stood thus talking together, they saw come riding to them over a plain six knights of the court of King Arthur, well armed at all points. And there by their shields Sir Dinadan knew them well. The first was the good knight Sir Uwaine, the son of King Uriens; the second was the noble knight Sir Brandiles; the third was Ozanna le Cure Hardy; the fourth was Uwaine les Adventurous; the fifth was Sir Agravaine; the sixth Sir Mordred, brother to Sir Gawaine. When Sir Dinadan had seen these six knights, he thought in himself he would bring King Mark by some wile to joust with one of them.

"Lo," said Sir Dinadan, "yonder are knights errant that will joust with us."

"God forbid," said King Mark, "for they be six, and we but two."

"As for that," said Sir Dinadan, "let us not spare, for I will assay the foremost."

And therewith he made him ready. When King Mark saw him do so, as fast as Sir Dinadan rode toward them King Mark rode from them with all his menial company. So when Sir Dinadan saw King Mark was gone, he set the spear out of the rest, and threw his shield upon his back, and came riding to the fellowship of the Table Round. And anon Sir Uwaine knew Sir Dinadan, and welcomed him, and so did all his fellowship.

"What knight is that," said Sir Brandiles, "that so suddenly departed from you, and rode over yonder field?"

"Sir," said he, "it was a knight of Cornwall, and the most horrible coward that ever bestrode horse."

"What is his name?" said all the knights.

"I wot not," said Sir Dinadan.

Said Sir Griflet, "Here have I brought Sir Dagonet, King Arthur's fool, that is the best fellow and the merriest in the world."

[Then said Sir Mordred,] "Put my shield and my harness upon Sir Dagonet, and let him set upon the Cornish knight."

"That shall be done," said Sir Dagonet, "by my faith."

Then anon was Dagonet armed in Mordred's harness and his shield, and he was set on a great horse and a spear in his hand.

"Now," said Dagonet, "show me the knight, and I trow I shall bear him down."

So all these knights rode to a woodside, and abode till King Mark came by the way. Then they put forth Sir Dagonet, and he came on all the while his horse might run, straight upon King Mark. And when he came nigh King Mark, he cried as he were wood, and said, "Keep thee, knight of Cornwall, for I will slay thee."

Anon as King Mark beheld his shield he said to himself, "Yonder is Sir Launcelot: alas, now am I destroyed."

And therewithal he made his horse to run as fast as it might through thick and thin. And ever Sir Dagonet followed King Mark crying and rating him as a wood man through a great forest. When Sir Uwaine and Sir Brandiles saw Dagonet so chase King Mark, they laughed all as they were wood. And then they took their horses and rode after to see how Sir Dagonet sped. For they would not for no good that Sir Dagonet were hurt, for King Arthur loved him passing well, and made him knight with his own hands.

When Sir Uwaine and Sir Brandiles with his fellows came to the court of King Arthur, they told the king, Sir Launcelot, and Sir Tristram how Sir Dagonet the fool chased King Mark through the forest. There was great laughing and jesting at King Mark and at Sir Dagonet.

King Arthur on a day said unto King Mark,—

"Sir, I pray you to give me a gift that I shall ask you."

"Sir," said King Mark, "I will give you whatsoever ye desire, and it be in my power."

"Sir, gramercy," said King Arthur, "this I will ask you, that ye be a good lord unto Sir Tristram, for he is a man of great honor; and that ye will take him with you into Cornwall, and let him see his friends, and there cherish him for my sake."

"Sir," said King Mark, "I promise you by the faith of my body, and by the faith I owe to God and to you, I shall worship him for your sake in all that I can or may."

"Sir," said Arthur, "and I will forgive you all the evil will that ever I owed you, and so be that ye swear that upon a book afore me."

"With a good will," said King Mark.

And so he there sware upon a book afore him and all his knights, and therewith King Mark and Sir Tristram took either other by the hands hard knit together. But for all this King Mark thought falsely, as it proved after, for he put Sir Tristram in prison, and cowardly would have slain him. Then soon after King Mark took his leave to ride into Cornwall, and Sir Tristram made him ready to ride with him, wherefore the most part of the Round Table were wroth and heavy; and in especial Sir Launcelot, and Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan were wroth out of measure. For well they wist King Mark would slay or destroy Sir Tristram.

Now turn we unto Sir Tristram, that, as he rode on hunting, he met with Sir Dinadan, that was come into that country for to seek Sir Tristram. Then Sir Dinadan told Sir Tristram his name, but Sir Tristram would not tell his name; wherefor Sir Dinadan was wroth.

"For such a foolish knight as ye are," said Sir Dinadan, "I saw but late to-day lying by a well, and he fared as he had slept, and there he lay like a fool grinning and would not speak, and his shield lay by him, and his horse stood by him, and well I wot he was a lover."

"Ah, fair sir," said Sir Tristram, "are ye not a lover?"

"Marry, fie upon that craft," said Sir Dinadan.

"That is evil said," quoth Sir Tristram, "for a knight may never be of prowess, but if he be a lover."

"It is well said," quoth Sir Dinadan; "now tell me your name, sith ye be a lover, or else I shall do battle with you."

"As for that," said Sir Tristram, "it is no reason to fight with me but I tell you my name; as for that, my name shall ye not know as at this time."

"Fie for shame," said Sir Dinadan, "art thou a knight and darest not tell me thy name? therefore I will fight with thee."

"As for that," said Sir Tristram, "I will be advised, for I will not fight but if me list; and if I do battle," said Sir Tristram, "ye are not able for to withstand me."

"Fie on thee, coward," said Sir Dinadan.

And thus as they still hoved, they saw a knight come riding against them.

"Lo," said Sir Tristram, "see where cometh a knight riding that will joust with you."

Anon, as Sir Dinadan beheld him, he said, "It is the same doting knight that I saw lie by the well neither sleeping nor waking."

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "I know that knight full well with the covered shield of azure; he is the king's son of Northumberland, his name is Epinegris, and he is as great a lover as I know, and he loveth the king's daughter of Wales, a full fair lady. And now I suppose," said Sir Tristram, "and ye require him he will joust with you; and then shall ye prove whether a lover be a better knight or ye that will not love no lady."

"Well," said Sir Dinadan, "now shalt thou see what I shall do."

Therewithal Sir Dinadan spake on high and said, "Sir knight, make thee ready to joust with me, for it is the custom of errant knights one to joust with the other."

"Sir," said Epinegris, "is it the rule of you errant knights for to make a knight to joust will he or nill?"

"As for that," said Dinadan, "make thee ready, for here is for me."

And therewithal they spurred their horses, and met together so hard that Epinegris smote down Sir Dinadan. Then Sir Tristram rode to Sir Dinadan, and said, "How now? me seemeth the lover hath right well sped."

"Fie upon thee, coward," said Sir Dinadan, "and if thou be any good knight, now revenge my shame."

"Nay," said Sir Tristram, "I will not joust as at this time, but take your horse and let us go from hence."

"God defend me," said Sir Dinadan, "from thy fellowship, for I never sped well sith I met with thee."

And so they departed.

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "peradventure I could tell you tidings of Sir Tristram."

"God defend me," said Sir Dinadan, "from thy fellowship, for Sir Tristram were much the worse and he were in thy company."

And then they departed.

"Sir," said Sir Tristram, "yet it may happen that I shall meet with you in other places."

And so Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there heard in that town great noise and cry.

"What meaneth this noise?" said Sir Tristram.

"Sir," said they, "here is a knight of this castle which hath been long among us, and right now he is slain with two knights, and for none other cause but that our knight said that Sir Launcelot was a better knight than was Sir Gawaine."

"That was but a simple cause," said Sir Tristram, "to slay a good knight because he said well by his master."

"That is but a little remedy unto us," said the men of the town; "for if Sir Launcelot had been here, soon we should have been revenged upon those false knights."

When Sir Tristram heard them say so, incontinent he sent for his shield and for his spear, and lightly within a little while he had overtaken them, and bade them turn and amend that they had misdone.

"What amends wouldst thou have?" said that one knight.

And therewith they took their course, and either met other so hard, that Sir Tristram smote down that knight over his horse's crupper. Then the other knight dressed him unto Sir Tristram, and in the same wise as he served the first knight, so he served him. And then they gat them upon their feet as well as they might, and dressed their shields and their swords to do their battle unto the uttermost.

"Knights," said Sir Tristram, "ye shall tell me of whence ye are and what be your names."

"Wit thou well, sir knight," said they, "we fear us not to tell thee our names, for my name is Sir Agravaine, and my name is Gaheris, brethren unto the good knight Sir Gawaine, and we be nephews unto King Arthur."

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "for King Arthur's sake I shall let you pass as at this time. But it is shame," said Sir Tristram, "that Sir Gawaine and ye that be come of so great a blood, that ye four brethren are so named as ye be. For ye be called the greatest destroyers and murderers of good knights that be now in this realm; for it is but as I heard say, that Sir Gawaine and ye slew among you a better knight than ever ye were, that was the noble knight Sir Lamorak de Galis; and it had pleased God," said Sir Tristram, "I would I had been by Sir Lamorak at his death."

"Then shouldest thou have gone the same way," said Sir Gaheris.

"Fair knight," said Sir Tristram, "there must have been many more knights than ye are."

And therewithal Sir Tristram departed from them towards Joyous Gard. And when he was departed they took their horses, and the one said to the other, "We will overtake him and be revenged upon him in the despite of Sir Lamorak."

So when they had overtaken Sir Tristram, Sir Agravaine bade him, "Turn, traitor knight."

"That is evil said," said Sir Tristram; and therewith he pulled out his sword, and smote Sir Agravaine such a buffet upon the helm that he tumbled down off his horse in a swoon, and he had a grievous wound. And then he turned to Gaheris, and Sir Tristram smote his sword and his helm together with such a might that Gaheris fell out of his saddle; and so Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there he alighted and unarmed him. So Sir Tristram told la Belle Isolde of all his adventure as ye have heard tofore. And when she heard him tell of Sir Dinadan, "Sir," she said, "is not that he that made the song by King Mark?"

"That same is he," said Sir Tristram, "for he is the best joker and jester, and a noble knight of his hands, and the best fellow that I know, and all good knights love his fellowship."

"Alas, sir," said she, "why brought ye not him with you?"

"Have ye no care," said Sir Tristram, "for he rideth to seek me in this country, and therefore he will not away till he have met with me."

And there Sir Tristram told la Belle Isolde how Sir Dinadan held against all lovers. Right so there came in a varlet and told Sir Tristram how there was come an errant knight into the town with such colors upon his shield.

"That is Sir Dinadan," said Sir Tristram. "Wit ye what ye shall do?" said Sir Tristram; "send ye for him, my lady Isolde, and I will not be seen, and ye shall hear the merriest knight that ever ye spake withal, and the maddest talker, and I pray you heartily that ye make him good cheer."

Then anon la Belle Isolde sent into the town, and prayed Sir Dinadan that he would come into the castle and rest him there with a lady.

"With a good will," said Sir Dinadan; and so he mounted upon his horse, and rode into the castle; and there he alighted, and was unarmed and brought into the castle. Anon la Belle Isolde came unto him, and either saluted other. Then she asked him of whence he was.

"Madam," said Sir Dinadan, "I am of King Arthur's court, and knight of the Round Table, and my name is Sir Dinadan."

"What do ye in this country?" said la Belle Isolde.

"Madam," said he, "I seek the noble knight Sir Tristram, for it was told me that he was in this country."

"It may well be," said la Belle Isolde, "but I am not ware of him."

"Madam," said Sir Dinadan, "I marvel of Sir Tristram and moe other lovers, what aileth them to be so mad and so assotted upon women."

"Why," said la Belle Isolde, "are ye a knight and be ye no lover? it is a shame unto you; wherefore ye may not be called a good knight, but if that ye make a quarrel for a lady."

"God defend me," said Sir Dinadan, "for the joy of love is too short, and the sorrow and what cometh thereof endureth over long."

"Ah!" said la Belle Isolde, "say ye not so, for here fast by was the good knight Sir Bleoberis, which fought with three knights at once for a damsel's sake, and he won her before the King of Northumberland."

"It was so," said Sir Dinadan, "for I know him well for a good knight and a noble, and come of noble blood; for all be noble knights of whom he is come of, that is Sir Launcelot du Lake."

"Now I pray you," said la Belle Isolde, "tell me will ye fight for my love with three knights that did me great wrong? and insomuch as ye be a knight of King Arthur's court, I require you to do battle for me."

Then Sir Dinadan said, "I shall say unto you, ye are as fair a lady as ever I saw any, and much fairer than is my lady Queen Guenever; but wit ye well at one word that I will not fight for you with three knights, Jesu defend me."

Then Isolde laughed, and had good game at him. So he had all the cheer that she might make him; and there he lay all that night. And on the morn early Sir Tristram armed him, and la Belle Isolde gave him a good helm; and then he promised her that he would meet with Sir Dinadan, and they two would ride together unto Lonazep, where the tournament should be, "and there shall I make ready for you, where ye shall see the tournament." Then departed Sir Tristram with two squires that bare his shield and his spears that were great and long.

Then after that, Sir Dinadan departed and rode his way a great pace until he had overtaken Sir Tristram. And when Sir Dinadan had overtaken him, he knew him anon, and he hated the fellowship of him above all other knights.

"Ah," said Sir Dinadan, "art thou that coward knight that I met with yesterday, keep thee, for thou shalt joust with me, maugre thy head."

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "and I am loth to joust."

And so they let their horses run, and Sir Tristram missed of him a purpose, and Sir Dinadan brake a spear upon Sir Tristram; and therewith Sir Dinadan dressed himself to draw out his sword.

"Not so," said Sir Tristram, "why are ye so wroth? I will not fight."

"Fie on thee, coward," said Sir Dinadan, "thou shamest all knights."

"As for that," said Sir Tristram, "I care not, for I will wait upon you and be under your protection, for because ye are so good a knight ye may save me."

"The devil deliver me of thee," said Sir Dinadan, "for thou art as goodly a man of arms and of thy person as ever I saw, and the most coward that ever I saw. What wilt thou do with those great spears that thou carriest with thee?"

"I shall give them," said Sir Tristram, "to some good knight when I come to the tournament; and if I see you do best I shall give them to you."

So thus as they rode talking they saw where came an errant knight afore them dressing him for to joust.

"Lo," said Sir Tristram, "yonder is one will joust; now dress thee to him."

"Ah! shame betide thee!" said Sir Dinadan.

"Nay, not so," said Sir Tristram, "for that knight seemeth a shrew."

"Then shall I," said Sir Dinadan.

And so they dressed their shields and their spears, and they met together so hard that the other knight smote down Sir Dinadan from his horse.

"Lo," said Sir Tristram, "it had been better that ye had left."

"Fie on thee, coward!" said Sir Dinadan.

Then Sir Dinadan started up, and gat his sword in his hand, and proffered to do battle on foot.

"Whether in love or in wrath?" said the other knight.

"Let us do battle in love," said Sir Dinadan.

"What is your name?" said that knight, "I pray you tell me."

"Wit ye well my name is Sir Dinadan."

"Ah, Sir Dinadan," said that knight, "and my name is Sir Gareth, the youngest brother unto Sir Gawaine."

Then either made of other great joy, for this Sir Gareth was the best knight of all those brethren, and he proved a full good knight. Then they took their horses, and there they spake of Sir Tristram, how he was such a coward. And every word Sir Tristram heard, and laughed them to scorn. Then were they ware where there came a knight before them well horsed and well armed.

"Fair knights," said Sir Tristram, "look between you who shall joust with yonder knight, for I warn you I will not have to do with him."

"Then shall I," said Sir Gareth.

And so they encountered together, and there that knight smote down Sir Gareth over his horse's crupper.

"How now?" said Sir Tristram unto Sir Dinadan, "dress thee now, and revenge the good knight Sir Gareth."

"That shall I not," said Sir Dinadan, "for he hath stricken down a much bigger knight than I am."

"Ah!" said Sir Tristram, "now Sir Dinadan, I see and perceive full well that your heart faileth you, therefore now shall ye see what I shall do."

And then Sir Tristram hurled unto that knight, and smote him quite from his horse. And when Sir Dinadan saw that, he marvelled greatly, and then he deemed in himself that it was Sir Tristram. Then this knight that was on foot pulled out his sword to do battle.

"What is your name?" said Sir Tristram.

"Wit ye well," said the knight, "my name is Sir Palamides."

"What knight hate ye most?" said Sir Tristram.

"Sir knight," said he, "I hate Sir Tristram to the death, for and I may meet with him the one of us shall die."

"Ye say well," said Sir Tristram, "and wit ye well that I am Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and now do your worst."

When Sir Palamides heard him say so he was astonished, and then he said thus, "I pray you, Sir Tristram, forgive me all mine evil will, and if I live I shall do you service above all other knights that be living, and there as I have owed you evil will me sore repenteth. I wot not what aileth me, for me seemeth that ye are a good knight, and none other knight that named himself a good knight should not hate you; therefore I require you, Sir Tristram, take no displeasure at mine unkind words."

"Sir Palamides," said Sir Tristram, "ye say well, and well I wot ye are a good knight, for I have seen you proved, and many great enterprises have ye taken upon you, and well achieved them; therefore," said Sir Tristram, "and ye have any evil will to me, now may ye right it, for I am ready at your hand."

"Not so, my lord Sir Tristram; I will do you knightly service in all things as ye will command."

"And right so I will take you," said Sir Tristram.

And so they rode forth on their ways, talking of many things.

"Oh my lord Sir Tristram," said Dinadan, "foul have ye mocked me, for truly I came into this country for your sake, and by the advice of my lord Sir Launcelot, and yet would not Sir Launcelot tell me the certainty of you, where I should find you."

"Truly," said Sir Tristram, "Sir Launcelot wist well where I was, for I abode within his own castle."

Thus they rode until they were ware of the Castle of Lonazep, and then were they ware of four hundred tents and pavilions, and marvellous great ordinance. "So God me help," said Sir Tristram, "yonder I see the greatest ordinance that ever I saw."

"Sir," said Sir Palamides, "me seemeth there was as great an ordinance at the Castle of Maidens upon the rock, where ye won the prize, for I saw myself where ye forjousted thirty knights."

"Sir," said Sir Dinadan, "and in Surluse, at that tournament that Sir Galahalt of the long isles made, the which lasted seven days, was as great a gathering as is here, for there were many nations."

"Who was the best?" said Sir Tristram.

"Sir, it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, and the noble knight Sir Lamorak de Galis; Sir Launcelot won the degree."

"I doubt not," said Sir Tristram, "but he won the degree, so that he had not been overmatched with many knights. And of the death of Sir Lamorak," said Sir Tristram, "it was over great pity, for I dare say that he was the cleanest mighted man, and the best winded of his age that was on live, for I knew him that he was the biggest knight that ever I met withal, but if it were Sir Launcelot. Alas!" said Sir Tristram, "full woe is me of his death, and, if they were all the cousins of my lord King Arthur that slew him, they should die for it, and all those that were consenting to his death. And for such things," said Sir Tristram, "I fear to draw unto the court of my lord King Arthur. I will that ye wit it," said Sir Tristram to Sir Gareth.

"Sir, I blame you not," said Sir Gareth, "for well I understand the vengeance of my brethren Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred; but for me," said Gareth, "I meddle not of their matters, therefore there is none of them that loveth me, and, for I understand they be murderers of good knights, I left their company, and would God I had been by," said Sir Gareth, "when the noble knight Sir Lamorak was slain."

"Now as Jesu be my help," said Sir Tristram, "it is well said of you, for I had liever than all the gold between this and Rome I had been there."

"Truly," said Sir Palamides, "I would I had been there, and yet I had never the degree at no jousts there as he was, but he put me to the worse on foot or on horseback, and that day that he was slain he did the most deeds of arms that ever I saw knight do all the days of my life. And when the degree was given him by my lord King Arthur, Sir Gawaine and his three brethren, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred, set upon Sir Lamorak in a privy place, and there they slew his horse, and so they fought with him on foot more than three hours, both before him and behind him. And Sir Mordred gave him his death wound behind him at his back, and all to-hewed him; for one of his squires told me that saw it."

"They fought with him on foot more than three hours, both before him and behind him"

"Fie upon treason," said Sir Tristram, "for it killeth my heart to hear this tale."

"So doth it mine," said Sir Gareth; "brethren as they be mine, I shall never love them nor draw me to their fellowship for that deed."

"Now speak we of other deeds," said Sir Palamides, "and let him be, for his life ye may not get again."

"That is the more pity," said Sir Dinadan, "for Sir Gawaine and his brethren (except you, Sir Gareth) hate all the good knights of the Round Table for the most part; for well I wot, and they might privily, they hate my lord Sir Launcelot and all his kin, and great privy despite they have at him, and that is my lord Sir Launcelot well ware of, and that causeth him to have the good knights of his kindred about him."

"Sir," said Palamides, "let us leave off this matter, and let us see how we shall do at this tournament. By mine advice," said Palamides, "let us four hold together against all that will come."

"Not by my counsel," said Sir Tristram, "for I see by their pavilions there will be four hundred knights, and doubt ye not," said Sir Tristram, "but there will be many good knights, and be a man never so valiant nor so big yet he may be overmatched. And so I have seen knights done many times: and when they wend best to have won worship they lost it. For manhood is not worth but if it be meddled [mingled] with wisdom: and as for me," said Sir Tristram, "it may happen I shall keep mine own head as well as another."

So thus they rode until that they came to Humber bank, where they heard a cry and a doleful noise. Then were they ware in the wind where came a rich vessel covered over with red silk, and the vessel landed fast by them. Therewith Sir Tristram alighted and his knights. And so Sir Tristram went afore and entered into that vessel. And when he came within, he saw a fair bed richly covered, and thereupon lay a dead seemly knight, all armed, save the head was all bebled, with deadly wounds upon him: the which seemed to be a passing good knight.

"How may this be," said Sir Tristram, "that this knight is thus slain?" Then Sir Tristram was ware of a letter in the dead knight's hand. "Master mariners," said Sir Tristram, "what meaneth that letter?"

"Sir," said they, "in that letter ye shall hear and know how he was slain, and for what cause, and what was his name; but, sir," said the mariners, "wit ye well that no man shall take that letter and read it but if he be a good knight, and that he will faithfully promise to revenge his death, else shall there no knight see that letter open."

"Wit ye well," said Sir Tristram, "that some of us may revenge his death as well as others; and if it be as ye say it shall be revenged." And therewith Sir Tristram took the letter out of the knight's hand, and it said thus: "Hermance, king and lord of the Red City, I send to all knights errant recommendation, and unto you, noble knights of King Arthur's court, I beseech them all among them to find one knight that will fight for my sake with two brethren, that I brought up of nought, and feloniously and traitorously they have slain me, wherefore I beseech one good knight to revenge my death; and he that revengeth my death I will that he have my Red City and all my castles."

"Sir," said the mariners, "wit ye well this king and knight that here lieth was a full worshipful man, and of full great prowess, and full well he loved all manner of knights errant."

"Truly," said Sir Tristram, "here is a piteous case, and full fain I would take this enterprise upon me, but I have made such a promise that needs I must be at this great tournament or else I am shamed. For well I wot for my sake in especial my lord Arthur let make this jousts and tournament in this country; and well I wot that many worshipful people will be there at that tournament for to see me. Therefore I fear me to take this enterprise upon me, that I shall not come again betimes to this jousts."

"Sir," said Palamides, "I pray you give me this enterprise, and ye shall see me achieve it worshipfully, or else I shall die in this quarrel."

"Well," said Sir Tristram, "and this enterprise I give you, with this that ye be with me at this tournament, that shall be as at this day seven night."

"Sir," said Palamides, "I promise you that I shall be with you by that day if I be unslain or unmaimed."

Then departed Sir Tristram, Gareth, and Sir Dinadan, and left Sir Palamides in the vessel; and so Sir Tristram beheld the mariners how they sailed along Humber. And when Sir Palamides was out of their sight, they took their horses, and beheld about them. And then were they ware of a knight that came riding against them unarmed, and nothing about him but a sword. And when this knight came nigh them he saluted them, and they him again.

"Fair knights," said that knight, "I pray you insomuch as ye be knights errant, that ye will come and see my castle, and take such as ye find there; I pray you heartily."

And so they rode with him into his castle; and there they were brought to the hall, that was well apparelled, and so they were unarmed and set at a board. And when this knight saw Sir Tristram, anon he knew him; and then this knight waxed pale and wroth at Sir Tristram. When Sir Tristram saw his host make such cheer, he marvelled greatly, and said, "Sir mine host, what cheer make ye?"

"Wit thou well," said he, "I fare much the worse for thee; for I know thee well, Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, thou slewest my brother, and therefore I give thee summons that I will slay thee and I may get thee at large."

"Sir knight," said Sir Tristram, "I am not advised that ever I slew any brother of yours; and if ye say that I did it, I will make you amends unto my power."

"I will none of your amends," said the knight, "but keep thee from me."

So when he had dined, Sir Tristram asked his arms and departed; and so they rode forth on their way. And within a little while Sir Dinadan saw where came a knight riding all armed and well horsed without shield.

"Sir Tristram," said Sir Dinadan, "take heed to yourself, for I undertake that yonder cometh your host that will have to do with you."

"Let him come," said Sir Tristram, "I shall abide him as well as I may."

Anon that knight when he came nigh Sir Tristram he cried to him, and bade him abide and keep him well. So they hurled together, but Sir Tristram smote the other knight so sore that he bare him to the ground. And that knight arose lightly, and took his horse again, and so rode fiercely to Sir Tristram, and smote him twice full hard upon the helm. "Sir knight," said Sir Tristram, "I pray you to leave off and smite me no more, for I would be loth to deal with you and I might choose, for I have your meat and your drink within my body." For all that he would not leave; and then Sir Tristram gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he tumbled upside down from his horse, that the blood brast out at the ventails of his helm; and there he lay still likely to have died. Then Sir Tristram said, "Me repenteth sore of this buffet that I smote so sore, for, as I suppose, he is dead."

And so they departed and rode forth on their way. So they had not ridden but a while but they saw coming against them two full likely knights, well armed and horsed, and goodly servants about them. The one was called the king with the hundred knights, and that other was Sir Segwarides, which were renowned two noble knights. So as they came either by other, the king looked upon Sir Dinadan, which at that time had Sir Tristram's helm upon his shoulder, which helm the king had seen before with the Queen of Northwales, and that helm the Queen of Northwales had given unto la Belle Isolde, and the Queen la Belle Isolde gave it unto Sir Tristram.

"Sir knight," said [the king], "where had ye that helm?"

"What would ye?" said Sir Dinadan.

"For I will have ado with thee," said the king, "for the love of her that owned that helm, and therefore keep you."

So they departed and came together with all the mights of their horses; and there the king with the hundred knights smote Sir Dinadan, horse and all, to the earth; and then he commanded his servant, "Go and take thou his helm off, and keep it."

So the varlet went to unbuckle his helm.

"What helm? What wilt thou do?" said Sir Tristram; "leave that helm."

"To what intent," said the king, "will ye, sir knight, meddle with that helm?"

"Wit you well," said Sir Tristram, "that helm shall not depart from me, or it be dearer bought."

"Then make you ready," said [the king] unto Sir Tristram.

So they hurtled together, and there Sir Tristram smote him down over his horse's tail. And then the king arose lightly, and gat his horse lightly again, and then he struck fiercely at Sir Tristram many great strokes. And then Sir Tristram gave [the king] such a buffet upon the helm that he fell down over his horse, sore stunned.

"Lo," said Sir Dinadan, "that helm is unhappy to us twain, for I had a fall for it, and now, sir king, have ye another fall."

Then Segwarides asked, "Who shall joust with me?"

"I pray thee," said Sir Gareth unto Dinadan, "let me have this jousts."

"Sir," said Dinadan, "I pray you take it as for me."

"That is no reason," said Tristram, "for this jousts should be yours."

"At a word," said Sir Dinadan, "I will not thereof."

Then Gareth dressed him to Sir Segwarides, and there Sir Segwarides smote Sir Gareth and his horse to the earth.

"Now," said Sir Tristram to Dinadan, "joust with yonder knight."

"I will not thereof," said Dinadan.

"Then will I," said Sir Tristram.

And then Sir Tristram ran to him and gave him a fall, and so they left them on foot. And Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there Sir Gareth would not of his courtesy have gone into the castle, but Sir Tristram would not suffer him to depart; and so they alighted, and unarmed them, and had there great cheer. But when Sir Dinadan came afore la Belle Isolde, he cursed the time that ever he bare the helm of Sir Tristram, and there he told her how Sir Tristram had mocked him. Then was there good laughing and sport at Sir Dinadan, that they wist not what to do to keep them from laughing.

Now will we leave them merry within Joyous Gard, and speak we of Sir Palamides. Then Sir Palamides sailed even along Humber unto the coast of the sea, where was a fair castle, and at that time it was early in the morning afore day. Then the mariners went unto Sir Palamides, that was fast on sleep: "Sir knight," said the mariners, "ye must arise, for here is a castle into the which ye must go."

"I assent me thereto," said Sir Palamides.

And therewithal he arrived; and then he blew his horn, the which the mariners had given him. And when they that were within the castle heard that horn, they put forth many knights, and there they stood upon the walls and said with one voice, "Welcome be ye to this castle." And then it waxed clear day, and Sir Palamides entered into the castle. And within a while he was served with many divers meats. Then Sir Palamides heard about him much weeping and great dole. "What may this mean?" said Sir Palamides: "I love not to hear such a sorrow, and fain I would know what it meaneth."

Then there came afore him one whose name was Sir Ebel, that said thus, "Wit ye well, sir knight, this dole and sorrow is here made every day, and for this cause: we had a king that hight Hermance, and he was King of the Red City, and this king that was lord was a noble knight, large and liberal of his expense. And in the world he loved nothing so much as he did errant knights of King Arthur's court, and all jousting, hunting, and all manner of knightly games; for so kind a king and knight had never the rule of poor people as he was; and because of his goodness and gentleness we bemoan him and ever shall. And all kings and estates may beware by our lord, for he was destroyed in his own default, for had he cherished them of his blood he had yet lived with great riches and rest; but all estates may beware of our king. But alas," said Ebel, "that we shall give all other warning by his death."

"Tell me," said Palamides, "in what manner was your lord slain, and by whom?"

"Sir," said Sir Ebel, "our king brought up of children two men that now are perilous knights, and these two knights our king had so in charity, that he loved no man nor trusted no man of his blood, nor none other that was about him. And by these two knights our king was governed, and so they ruled him peaceably, and his lands, and never would they suffer none of his blood to have no rule with our king. And also he was so free and so gentle, and they so false and deceivable, that they ruled him peaceably; and that espied the lords of our king's blood, and departed from him unto their own livelihood. Then when these two traitors understood that they had driven all the lords of his blood from him, they were not pleased with that rule, but then they thought to have more, as ever it is an old saw, Give a churl rule, and thereby he will not be sufficed; for whatsoever he be that is ruled by a villain born, and the lord of the soil to be a gentleman born, the same villain shall destroy all the gentlemen about him; therefore all estates and lords beware whom ye take about you. And if ye be a knight of King Arthur's court, remember this tale, for this is the end and conclusion. My lord and king rode unto the forest by the advice of these false traitors, and there he chased at the red deer, all armed of all pieces, full like a good knight; and so for labor he waxed dry, and then he alighted and drank at a well. And when he was alighted, by the assent of these two false traitors, the one that hight Helius suddenly smote our king through the body with a spear, and so they left him there; and when they were departed, then by fortune I came unto the well and found my lord and king wounded unto the death; and when I heard his complaint, I let bring him to the water side, and in that same ship I put him alive. And when my lord King Hermance was in that vessel, he required me for the true faith that I owed unto him for to write a letter in this manner:—

"'Recommending unto King Arthur and unto all the knights errant, beseeching them all in so much as I, King Hermance, King of the Red City, thus am slain by felony and treason, through two knights of mine own, and of mine own bringing up and of mine own making, that some worshipful knight will revenge my death, in so much as I have been ever to my power well willing unto King Arthur's court; and who that will adventure his life with these two traitors for my sake in one battle, I, King Hermance, King of the Red City, freely give all my lands and tenements that ever I possessed in all my life.' This letter," said Sir Ebel, "I wrote by my lord's commandment, and then he received his Maker [took the Holy Communion]. And when he was dead, he commanded me, or ever he were cold, to put this letter fast in his hand; and then he commanded me to put forth that same vessel down Humber, and I should give these mariners in commandment never to stint until that they came unto Logris, where all the noble knights shall assemble at this time, 'and there shall some good knight have pity on me to revenge my death, for there was never king nor lord falselier ne traitorlier slain than I am here to my death.'"

Thus was the complaint of our king Hermance.

"Now," said Sir Ebel, "ye know all how our lord was betrayed, we require you for God's sake have pity upon his death, and worshipfully revenge his death, and then may ye hold all these lands. For we all wit well that, and ye may slay these two traitors, the Red City and all those that be therein will take you for their lord."

"Truly," said Sir Palamides, "it grieveth my heart for to hear you tell this doleful tale. And to say the truth, I saw the same letter that ye speak of; and one of the best knights on the earth read that letter to me, and by his commandment I came hither to revenge your king's death; and therefore have done, and let me wit where I shall find those traitors, for I shall never be at ease in my heart till that I be in hands with them."

"Sir," said Sir Ebel, "then take your ship again, and that ship must bring you unto the Delectable Isle, fast by the Red City, and we in this castle shall pray for you and abide your again-coming; for this same castle, and ye speed well, must needs be yours; for our king Hermance let make this castle for the love of the two traitors, and so we kept it with strong hand, and therefore full sore are we threated."

"Wot ye what ye shall do," said Sir Palamides; "whatsoever come of me, look ye keep well this castle. For, and it misfortune me so to be slain in this quest, I am sure there will come one of the best knights of the world for to revenge my death, and that is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, or else Sir Launcelot du Lake."

Then Sir Palamides departed from that castle. And as he came nigh unto the city, there came out of a ship a goodly knight all armed against him, with his shield upon his shoulder, and his hand upon his sword; and anon as he came nigh Sir Palamides, he said, "Sir knight, what seek ye here in this country? leave this quest, for it is mine, and mine it was or it was yours, and therefore I will have it."

"Sir knight," said Sir Palamides, "it may well be that this quest was yours or it was mine, but when the letter was taken out of the dead king's hand, at that time by likelihood there was no knight had undertaken to revenge the death of King Hermance; and so at that time I promised to revenge his death, and so I shall, or else I am shamed."

"Ye say well," said the knight, "but wit ye well then will I fight with you, and he that is the better knight of us both let him take the battle in hand."

"I assent me," said Sir Palamides.

And then they dressed their shields, and drew out their swords, and lashed together many a sad stroke, as men of might, and thus they fought more than an hour. And at the last Sir Palamides waxed big and better winded, so that then he smote that knight such a stroke that he made him to kneel upon both his knees. Then that knight spoke on high and said, "Gentle knight, hold thy hand."

Sir Palamides was courteous and withdrew his hand.

Then this knight said, "Wit ye well, sir knight, that ye be better worthy to have this battle than I, and I require thee of thy knighthood to tell me thy name."

"Sir, my name is Sir Palamides, a knight of King Arthur's court and of the Round Table, that hither am come to revenge the death of this dead king."

"Ah, well be ye found," said the knight unto Sir Palamides, "for of all knights that be now living (except three) I had lievest have you. The first is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the second is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and the third Sir Lamorak de Galis; and I am brother unto King Hermance that is dead, and my name is Sir Hermind."

"It is well said," quoth Sir Palamides, "and ye shall see how I shall speed; and if I be there slain, go ye unto my lord Sir Launcelot or unto my lord Sir Tristram, and pray them to revenge my death, for as for Sir Lamorak, him shall ye never see in this world."

"Alas," said Sir Hermind, "how may that be?"

"He is slain," said Sir Palamides, "by Sir Gawaine and his brethren."

"Truly," said Hermind, "there was not one for one that slew him."

"That is truth," said Sir Palamides, "for they were four dangerous knights that slew him, as Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred; but Sir Gareth, the fifth brother, was away, the best knight of them all."

And so Sir Palamides told Hermind all the manner, and how they slew Sir Lamorak all only by treason. So Sir Palamides took his ship, and arrived up at the Delectable Isle. And in the meanwhile Sir Hermind, that was the king's brother, he arrived up at the Red City, and there he told them how there was come a knight of King Arthur's to avenge King Hermance's death; and his name is Sir Palamides the good knight. Then all the city made great joy. For mickle had they heard of Sir Palamides, and of his noble prowess. So let they ordain a messenger and sent unto the two brethren, and bade them to make them ready, for there was a knight come that would fight with them both. So the messenger went unto them where they were at a castle there beside. And there he told them how there was a knight come of King Arthur's court to fight with them both at once.

"He is welcome," said they. "But tell us, we pray you, if it be Sir Launcelot, or any of his blood."

"He is none of that blood," said the messenger.

"Then we care the less," said the two brethren, "for with none of the blood of Sir Launcelot we keep not to have to do withal."

"Wit ye well," said the messenger, "that his name is Sir Palamides, the which is not yet christened, a noble knight."

"Well," said they, "and if he be now unchristened, he shall never be christened."

So they appointed for to be at the city within two days. And when Sir Palamides was come unto the city, they made passing great joy of him. And when they beheld him, [they] saw that he was well made, cleanly and bigly, and unmaimed of his limbs, and neither too young nor too old, and so all the people praised him; and though he was not christened, yet he believed in the best manner, and was faithful and true of his promise, and also well conditioned; and because he made his avow never to take full christendom unto the time that he had done seven battles within the lists.

So within the third day there came to this city these two brethren, the one hight Sir Helius, and that other hight Sir Helake, the which were men of great prowess, howbeit they were false and full of treason, and but poor men born, yet were they noble knights of their hands.

And with them they brought forty knights, to the intent they should be big enough for the Red City. Thus came the two brethren with great bobance [boasting] and pride, for they had put the Red City in fear and damage. Then they were brought into the lists; and Sir Palamides came into the place, and thus he said, "Be ye the two brethren, Sir Helius and Sir Helake, that slew your king and lord Sir Hermance by felony and treason, for whom I am come hither for to revenge his death?"

"Wit thou well," said Sir Helius and Sir Helake, "that we are the same knights that slew King Hermance. And wit thou well, Sir Palamides, Saracen, that we shall handle thee so or thou depart that thou shalt wish that thou werest christened."