‘Hit is trouthe,’ seyde Accolon, ‘but now I have tolde you the trouthe, wherefore I pray you tell me of whens ye ar and of what courte.’
‘A, Accolon,’ seyde kynge Arthure, ‘now y let the wete that I am kynge Arthure that thou haste done grete damage to.’
Whan Accolon herd that he cryed on-lowde, ‘Fayre swete lorde, have mercy on me, for I knew you nat.’
‘A, sir Accolon,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘mercy thou shalt have because I fele be thy wordis at this time thou knewest me nat, but I fele by thy wordis that thou haste agreed to the deth of my persone, and therefore thou art a traytoure; but I wyte the the less for my sistir Morgan le Fay by hir false crauftis made the to agré to hir fais lustes. But I shall be sore avenged uppon hir, that all Crystendom shall speke of hit. God knowyth I have honoured hir and worshipped hir more than all my kyn, and more have I trusted hir than my wyff and all my kyn aftir.’
Than kynge Arthure called the kepers of the felde and seyde, ‘Sirres, commyth hyder, for here ar we two knyghtes that have foughtyn unto grete damage unto us bothe, and lykly eche of us to have slayne other, and had ony of us knowyn othir, here had bene no batayle nothir no stroke stryken.’
Than all alowde cryed Accolon unto all the knyghtes and men that were there, and seyde, ‘A, lordis! This knyght that I have foughten withall is the moste man of prouesse and of worship in the worlde, for hit is hymself kynge Arthure, oure all lyege lorde, and with myssehappe and mysseadventure have I done this batayle with the lorde and kynge that I am withholdyn withall.’
Than all the peple felle downe on her knees and cryed kynge [12] Arthure mercy.
‘Mercy shall ye have,’ seyde Arthure. ‘Here may ye se what soddeyn adventures befallys ouftyn of arraunte knyghtes, how that I have foughtyn with a knyght of myne owne unto my grete damage and his bothe. But, syrs, because I am sore hurte and he bothe, and I had grete nede of a lytyll reste, ye shall undirstonde this shall be the opynyon betwyxte you two brethirne:
‘As to the, sir Damas, for whom I have bene champyon and wonne the felde of this knyght, yett woll I juge. Because ye, sir Damas, ar called an orgulus knyght and full of vylony, and nat worth of prouesse of youre dedis, therefore woll I that ye geff unto youre brother all the hole maner with the apportenaunce undir this fourme, that sir Outelake holde the maner of you and yerely to gyff you a palfrey to ryde uppon, for that woll becom you bettir to ryde on than uppon a courser. Also I charge the, sir Damas, uppon payne of deth, that thou never distresse no knyghtes araunte that ryde on their adventure, and also that thou restore thyse twenty knyghtes, that thou haste kepte longe presoners of all theire harmys that they be contente for. And ony of them com to my courte and complayne on the, be my hede, thou shalt dye therefore!
‘Also, sir Oughtlake, as to you, because ye ar named a good knyght and full of prouesse and trew and jantyll in all youre dedis, this shall be youre charge I woll gyff you: that in all goodly hast ye com unto me and my courte, and ye shall be a knyght of myne, and if youre dedis be thereaftir I shall so proferre you by the grace of God that ye shall in shorte tyme be in ease as for to lyve as worshipfully as youre brother Damas.’
‘God thonke youre largenesse of youre grete goodnesse and of youre bounté! I shall be frome hensforewarde in all tymes at your commaundement. For, sir,’ said sir Oughtlake, ‘as God wolde, I was hurte but late with an adventures knyght thorow bothe the thyghes, and ellys had I done this batayle with you.’
‘God wolde,’ seyde sir Arthure, ‘hit had bene so, for than had nat I bene hurte as I am. I shall tell you the cause why: for I had nat bene hurte as I am, had nat bene myne owne swerde that was stolyn frome me by treson; and this batayle was ordeyned aforehonde to have slayne me, and so hit was broughte to the purpose by false treson and by enchauntment.’
‘Alas,’ seyde sir Outlake, ‘that is grete pité that ever so noble a man as ye ar of your dedis and prouesse, that ony man or woman myght fynde in their hertis to worche ony treson agenst you.’
‘I shall rewarde them,’ seyde Arthure. ‘Now telle me,’ seyde Arthure, ‘how far am I frome Camelot?’
‘Sir, ye ar two dayes jurney.’
‘I wolde be at som place of worship,’ seyde sir Arthur, ‘that I myght reste me.’
‘Sir,’ seyde Outlake, ‘hereby is a ryche abbey of youre elders foundacion, of nunnys, but three myle hens.’
So the kynge toke his leve of all the peple and mounted uppon horsebak and sir Accolon with hym.
And whan they were com to the abbey he lete fecch lechis and serchid his woundis and sir Accolons bothe. But sir Accolon deyed within four dayes, for he had bled so much blood that he myght nat lyve, but kynge Arthure was well recoverde. So whan Accolon was dede he lette sende hym in an horse-bere with six knyghtes unto Camelot, and bade ‘bere hym unto my systir, Morgan le Fay, and sey that I sende her hym to a present. And telle hir I have my swerde Excalyber and the scawberde.’ So they departe with the body.
The meanewhyle Morgan le Fay had wente kynge Arthure had [13] bene dede. So on a day she aspyed kynge Uryence lay on slepe on his bedde, than she callyd unto hir a mayden of her counseyle and sayde, ‘Go fecche me my lordes swerde, for I saw never bettir tyme to sle hym than now.’
‘A, madame,’ seyde the damesell, ‘and ye sle my lorde ye can never ascape.’
‘Care the not,’ sayde Morgan, ‘for now I se my tyme is beste to do hit, and therefore hyghe the faste and fecche me the swerde.’
Than this damesell departed and founde sir Uwayne slepyng uppon a bedde in anothir chambir. So she wente unto sir Uwayne and awaked hym and bade hym ‘aryse and awayte on my lady youre modir, for she woll sle the kynge youre fadir slepynge on his bedde, for I go to fecch his swerde.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘go on your way and lette me dele.’
Anone the damesell brought the quene the swerde with quakyng hondis. And lyghtly she toke the swerde and pullyd hit oute, and wente boldely unto the beddis syde and awayted how and where she myght sle hym beste. And as she hevyd up the swerde to smyte, sir Uwayne lepte unto his modir and caught hir by the honde and seyde, ‘A, fende, what wolt thou do? And thou were nat my modir, with this swerde I sholde smyte of thyne hede! A,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘men seyde that Merlyon was begotyn of a fende, but I may say an erthely fende bare me.’
‘A, fayre son Uwayne, have mercy uppon me! I was tempted with a fende, wherefore I cry the mercy. I woll nevermore do so. And save my worship and discover me nat!’
‘On this covenaunte,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘I woll forgyff you: so ye woll never be aboute to do such dedis.’
‘Nay, son, and that I make you assuraunce.’
[14] Then come tydynges unto Morgan le Fay that Accolon was dede and his body brought unto the chirche, and how kyng Arthure had his swerde ayen. But whan quene Morgan wyste that Accolon was dede, she was so sorowfull that nye hir herte to-braste, but bycause she wolde nat hit were knowyn oute, she kepte hir countenaunce and made no sembelaunte of dole. But welle sche wyste, and she abode tylle hir brother Arthure come thydir, there sholde no golde go for hir lyff. Than she wente unto the quene Gwenyvere and askid hir leve to ryde into hir contrey.
‘Ye may abyde,’ seyde the quene, ‘tyll youre brother the kynge com home.’
‘I may nat, madame,’ seyde Morgan le Fay, ‘for I have suche hasty tydynges.’
‘Well,’ seyde the quene, ye may departe whan ye woll.’
So erely on the morne, or hit was day, she toke hir horse and rode all that day and moste party of the nyght, and on the morne by none she com to the same abbey of nonnys whereas lay kynge Arthure, and she wyste welle that he was there. And anone she asked where he was, and they answerde and seyde how he was leyde hym on his bedde to slepe, ‘for he had but lytyll reste this three nyghtes.’
‘Well,’ seyde she, ‘I charge that none of you awake hym tyll I do.’ And than she alyght of hir horse and thought for to stele away Excaliber, his swerde. And she wente streyte unto his chambir, and no man durste di
sobey hir comaundement. And there she found Arthur aslepe on his bedde, and Excalyber in his ryght honde naked. Whan she sawe that, she was passyng hevy that she myght nat com by the swerde withoute she had awaked hym, and than she wyste welle she had bene dede. So she toke the scawberde and went hir way to horsebak.
Whan the kynge awoke and myssed his scawberde, he was wroth, and so he asked who had bene there, and they seyde his sister, quene Morgan le Fay, had bene there and had put the scawberde undir hir mantell and is gone.
Alas,’ seyde Arthure, ‘falsly have ye wacched me.’
‘Sir,’ seyde they all, ‘we durst nat disobey your sistyrs commaundemente.’
‘A,’ seyde the kynge, ‘lette fecch me the beste horse that may be founde, and bydde sir Outlake arme hym in all hast and take anothir good horse and ryde with me.’
So anone the kynge and sir Outlake were well armyd and rode aftir this lady. And so they com be a crosse and founde a cowherde, and they asked the pore man if there cam ony lady late rydynge that way.
‘Sir,’ seyde this pore man, ‘ryght late com a lady rydynge this way with a fourty horses, and to yonder forest she rode.’
And so they folowed faste, and within a whyle Arthur had a syght of Morgan le Fay. Than he chaced as faste as he myght. Whan she aspyed hym folowynge her, she rode a grete pace thorow the foreste tyll she com to a playn. And when she sawe she myght nat ascape she rode unto a lake thereby and seyde, ‘Whatsoever com of me, my brothir shall nat have this scawberde!’ And than she lete throwe the scawberde in the deppyst of the watir. So hit sanke, for hit was hevy of golde and precious stonys.
Than she rode into a valey where many grete stonys were, and whan she sawe she muste be overtake, she shope hirself, horse and man, by enchauntemente unto grete marbyll stonys. And anone withall come kynge Arthure and sir Outlake whereas the kynge myght know his sistir and her men and one knyght frome another.
‘A,’ seyde the kynge, ‘here may ye se the vengeaunce of God! And now am I sory this mysaventure is befalle.’
And than he loked for the scawberde, but hit wold nat be founde; so he turned to the abbey there she come fro. So whan Arthure was gone they turned all their lyknesse as she and they were before, and seyde, ‘Sirs, now may we go where we wyll.’ [15]
Than seyde Morgan le Fay, ‘Saw ye of Arthure my brother?’
‘Yee,’ seyde hir men, ‘and that ye sholde have founde, and we myght a stered of one stede; for by his amyvestyall countenaunce he wolde have caused us to have fledde.’
‘I beleve you,’ seyde the quene.
So anone after as she rode she mette a knyght ledynge another knyght on horsebake before hym, bounde hande and foote, blyndefelde, to have drowned hym in a fowntayne. Whan she sawe this knyght so bounde she asked, ‘What woll ye do with that knyght?’
‘Lady,’ seyde he, ‘I woll drowne hym.’
‘For what cause?’ she asked.
‘For I founde hym with my wyff, and she shall have the same deth anone.’
‘That were pyté,’ seyde Morgan le Fay. ‘Now, what sey ye, knyght? Is hit trouthe that he seyth of you?’
‘Nay, truly, madame, he seyth nat ryght on me.’
‘Of whens be ye,’ seyde the quene, and of what contrey?’
‘I am of the courte of kynge Arthure, and my name is Manessen, cosyn unto Accolon of Gaule.’
‘Ye sey well, and for the love of hym ye shall be delyverde, and ye shal have youre adversary in the same case that ye were in.’
So this Manessen was loused, and the other knyght bounde. And anone Manessen unarmed hym and armede hymself in his harneyse, and so mounted on horsebak and the knyght afore hym, and so threw hym in the fountayne and so drowned hym. And than he rode unto Morgan ayen and asked if she wolde onythyng unto Arthure.
‘Telle hym,’ seyde she, ‘that I rescewed the nat for the love of hym, but for the love of Accolon, and tell hym I feare hym nat whyle I can make me and myne in lyknesse of stonys, and lette hym wete I can do much more whan I se my tyme.’
And so she departed into the contrey of Gore, and there was she rychely receyved, and made hir castels and townys strong, for allwey she drad muche kyng Arthure.
VI. GAWAIN, YWAIN, AND MARHALT
WHAN the kynge had well rested hym at the abbey he rode unto Camelot and founde his quene and his barownes ryght glad of his commyng. And whan they herde of his stronge adventures, as hit is before rehersed, they all had mervayle of the falsehede of Morgan le Fay. Many knyghtes wysshed hir brente. Than come Manessen to courte and told the kynge of his adventure.
‘Well,’ seyde the kyng, she is a kynde sister. I shall so be avengid on hir and I lyve, that all crystendom shall speke of hit.’
So on the morne there cam a damesell on message frome Morgan le Fay to the kynge, and she brought with hir the rycheste mantell that ever was sene in the courte, for hit was sette all full of precious stonys as one myght stonde by another, and therein were the rycheste stonys that ever the kynge saw. And the damesell seyde, ‘Your sister sendyth you this mantell and desyryth that ye sholde take this gyfte of hir, and what thynge she hath offended she woll amende hit at your owne plesure.’
When the kyng behelde this mantell hit pleased hym much. He seyde but lytyll. With that come the Damesell of the Lake unto the [16] kynge and seyde, ‘Sir, I muste speke with you in prevyté.’
‘Sey on,’ seyde the kynge, ‘what ye woll.’
‘Sir,’ seyde this damesell, ‘putt nat uppon you this mantell tylle ye have sene more, and in no wyse lat hit nat com on you nother on no knyght of youres tyll ye commaunde the brynger thereof to putt hit uppon hir.’
‘Well,’ seyde the kynge, ‘hit shall be as you counseyle me.’
And than he seyde unto the damesell that com frome his sister, ‘Damesell, this mantell that ye have brought me, I woll se hit uppon you.’
‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘hit woll nat beseme me to were a kynges garmente.’
‘Be my hede,’ seyde Arthure, ‘ye shall were hit or hit com on my bak other on ony mannys bak that here is.’
And so the kynge made to putt hit uppon hir. And forthwithall she fell downe deede and never spoke worde after, and brente to colys.
Than was the kynge wondirly wroth more than he was toforehande, and seyde unto kynge Uryence, ‘My sistir, your wyff, is allway aboute to betray me, and welle I wote other ye or my nevewe, your son, is accounseyle with hir to have me distroyed. But as for you,’ seyde the kynge unto kynge Uryence, ‘I deme nat gretly that ye be of counseyle, for Accolon confessed to me his owne mowthe that she wolde have distroyed you as well as me; therefore y holde you excused. But as for your son sir Uwayne, I holde hym suspecte. Therefore I charge you, putt hym oute of my courte.’ So sir Uwayne was discharged.
And whan sir Gawayne wyste that, he made hym redy to go with hym, ‘for whoso banyshyth my cosyn jarmayne shall banyshe me.’ So they too departed and rode into a grete foreste, and so they com unto an abbey of monkys, and there were well logged. Butt whan the kynge wyste that sir Gawayne was departed frome the courte, there was made grete sorowe amonge all the astatis.’Now,’ seyde Gaherys, Gawaynes brother, ‘we have loste two good knyghtes for the love of one.’
So on the morne they herde the masses in the abbey and so rode forth tyll they com to the grete foreste. Than was sir Gawayne ware in a valey by a turrette twelve fayre damesels and two knyghtes armed on grete horses, and the damesels wente to and fro by a tre. And than was sir Gawayne ware how there hynge a whyght shelde on that tre, and ever as the damesels com by hit they spette uppon [17] hit and som threwe myre uppon the shelde. Than sir Gawayne and sir Uwayne wente and salewed them, and asked why they dud that dispyte to the shelde.
‘Sir,’ seyde the damesels, ‘we shall telle you. There is a knyght in this contrey that owyth this whyght shelde, and he is a passyng good man of his hondis, but he hatyth all ladyes and jantylwomen, and therefore we do all this dyspyte to that shelde.’
‘I shall sey you,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘hit
besemyth evyll a good knyght to dispyse all ladyes and jantyllwomen; and peraventure thoughe he hate you he hath som cause, and peraventure he lovyth in som other placis ladyes and jantyllwomen and ys belovyd agayne, and he be suche a man of prouesse as ye speke of. Now, what is his name?’
‘Sir,’ they seyde, ‘his name is sir Marhaus, the kynges son of Irelonde.’
‘I knowe hym well,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘he is a passynge good knyght as ony on lyve, for I sawe hym onys preved at a justys where many knyghtes were gadird, and that tyme there myght no man withstonde hym.’
‘A,’ sayde sir Gawayne, ‘damesels, methynke ye ar to blame, for hit is to suppose he that hyng that shelde there he woll nat be longe therefro, and than may the knyghtes macche hym on horsebak. And that is more youre worshyp than thus to do, for I woll abyde no lenger to se a knyghtes shelde so dishonoured.’
And therewith sir Gawayne and sir Uwayne departed a lytyll fro them. And than ware they ware where sir Marhaus com rydynge on a grete horse streyte toward hem. And whan the twelve damesels sawe sir Marhaus they fledde to the turret as they were wylde, that som of hem felle by the way. Than that one of the knyghtes of the towre dressed his shylde and seyde on hyghe, ‘Sir Marhaus, defende the!’ And so they ran togedyrs that the knyght brake his spere on sir Marhaus, but Marhaus smote hym so harde that he brake his necke and his horse bak. That sawe the other knyght of the turret and dressed hym to Marhaus, that so egerly they mette that this knyght of the turret was smyte doune, horse and man, dede.
And than sir Marhaus rode unto his shylde and sawe how hit was [18] defoyled, and sayde, ‘Of this dispyte of parte I am avenged. But yet for hir love that gaff me this whyght shelde I shall were the and hange myne where that was.’ And so he honged hit aboute his necke.
Than he rode streyte unto sir Gawayne and to sir Uwayne and asked them what they dud there. They answerde hym and seyde they come frome kynge Arthurs courte for to se aventures.
‘Welle,’ seyde sir Marhaus, ‘here am I redy, an adventures knyght that woll fulfylle any adventure that ye woll desyre.’ And so departyd frome hem to fecche his raunge.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 14
