So whan they come nye the lyght sir Kay knew well hit was sir Launcelot, and therewith he kneled downe and thanked hym of all his kyndenesse, that he had holpyn hym twyse frome the deth.
‘Sir,’ he seyde, ‘I have nothyng done but that me ought for to do. And ye ar welcom, and here shall ye repose you and take your reste.’ Whan sir Kay was unarmed he asked aftir mete. Anone there was mete fette for hym and he ete strongly. And whan he had sowped they wente to their beddys and were lodged togydyrs in one bed.
So on the morne sir Launcelot arose erly and leffte sir Kay slepyng. And sir Launcelot toke sir Kayes armoure and his shylde and armed hym; and so he wente to the stable and sadylde his horse, and toke his leve of his oste and departed. Than sone aftir arose sir Kay and myssid sir Launcelot, and than he aspyed that he had his armoure and his horse.
‘Now, be my fayth, I know welle that he woll greve som of the courte of kyng Arthure, for on hym knyghtes woll be bolde and deme that hit is I, and that woll begyle them. And bycause of his armoure and shylde I am sure I shall ryde in pease.’ And than sone sir Kay departed and thanked his oste.
[12] Now turne we unto sir Launcelot that had ryddyn longe in a grete foreste. And at the laste he com unto a low countrey full of fayre ryvers and fayre meedys; and before hym he sawe a longe brydge, and three pavylyons stood thereon, of sylke and sendell of dyverse hew. And withoute the pavylyons hynge three whyght shyldys on trouncheouns of sperys, and grete longe sperys stood upryght by the pavylyons, and at every pavylyon dore stoode three freysh knyghtes.
And so sir Launcelot passed by hem and spake no worde. But whan he was paste the three knyghtes knew hym and seyde hit was the proude sir Kay: ‘He wenyth no knyght so good as he, and the contrary is oftyn proved. Be my fayth,’ seyde one of the knyghtes, his name was sir Gawtere, ‘I woll ryde aftir hym and assay hym for all his pryde; and ye may beholde how that I spede.’
So sir Gawtere armed hym and hynge his shylde uppon his sholdir, and mounted uppon a grete horse, and gate his speare in his honde, and wallopte aftir sir Launcelot. And whan he come nyghe hym he cryed, Abyde, thou proude knyght, sir Kay! for thou shalt nat passe all quyte.’ So sir Launcelot turned hym, and eythir feautyrd their sperys and com togedyrs with all their myghtes. And sir Gawters speare brake, but sir Launcelot smote hym downe horse and man.
And whan he was at the erthe his brethyrn seyde, ‘Yondir knyght is nat sir Kay, for he is far bygger than he.’
‘I dare ley my hede,’ seyde sir Gylmere, ‘yondir knyght hath slayne sir Kay and hath takyn hys horse and harneyse.’
‘Whether hit be so other no,’ seyde sir Raynolde, ‘lette us mounte on oure horsys and rescow oure brothir, sir Gawtere. For payne of deth, we all shall have worke inow to macche that knyght; for ever mesemyth by his persone hit is sir Launcelot other sir Trystrams other sir Pelleas, the good knyght.
Than anone they toke their horsys and overtoke sir Launcelot. And sir Gylmere put forth his speare and ran to sir Launcelot, and sir Launcelot smote hym downe, that he lay in a sowghe.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Raynolde, ‘thou arte a stronge man, and as I suppose thou haste slayne my two bretherne, for the whyche rysyth my herte sore agaynste the. And yf I myght wyth my worshyppe I wolde not have ado with the, but nedys I muste take suche parte as they do. And therefore, knyght, kepe thyselfe!’
And so they hurtylde togydyrs with all their myghtes and all to-shevird bothe there spearys, and than they drew hir swerdys and laysshed togydir egirly. Anone there with all arose sir Gawtere and come unto his brother sir Gyllymere, and bade hym aryse, ‘and helpe we oure brothir, sir Raynolde, that yondir merveylously macchyth yondir good knyght.’ Therewithal! they hurteled unto sir Launcelot.
And whan he sawe them com he smote a sore stroke unto sir Raynolde, that he felle of his horse to the grounde, and than he caste to the othir two bretherne, and at two strokys he strake hem downe to the erthe.
Wyth that sir Raynolde gan up sterte with his hede all blody and com streyte unto sir Launcelot.
‘Now let be,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I was not far frome the whan thou were made knyght, sir Raynolde, and also I know thou arte a good knyght, and lothe I were to sle the.’
‘Gramercy,’ seyde sir Raynolde, ‘of your goodnesse, and I dare say as for me and my bretherne, we woll nat be loth to yelde us unto you, with that we know youre name; for welle we know ye ar not sir Kay.’
‘As for that, be as be may. For ye shall yelde you unto dame Gwenyvere, and loke that ye be there on Whytsonday and yelde you unto hir as presoners, and sey that sir Kay sente you unto hir.’ Than they swore hit sholde be done, and so passed forth sir Launcelot, and ecchone of the bretherne halpe other as well as they myght.
[13] So sir Launcelotte rode into a depe foreste, and there by hym in a slade he sey four knyghtes hovynge undir an oke, and they were of Arthurs courte: one was sir Sagramour le Desyrus, and sir Ector de Marys, and sir Gawayne, and sir Uwayne. And anone as these four knyghtes had aspyed sir Launcelot they wende by his armys that hit had bene sir Kay.
‘Now, be my fayth,’ sayde sir Sagramoure, ‘I woll preve sir Kayes myght,’ and gate his spere in his honde and com towarde sir Launcelot. Than sir Launcelot was ware of his commyng and knew hym well, and feautred his speare agaynste hym and smote sir Sagramoure so sore that horse and man wente bothe to the erthe.
‘Lo, my felowys,’ seyde sir Ector, ‘yondir may ye se what a buffette he hath gyffen! Methynkyth that knyght is muche bygger than ever was sir Kay. Now shall ye se what I may do to hym.’
So sir Ector gate his spere in his honde and walopte towarde sir Launcelot, and sir Launcelot smote hym evyn thorow the shylde and his sholdir, that man and horse wente to the erthe, and ever his spere helde.
‘Be my fayth,’ sayde sir Uwayne, ‘yondir is a stronge knyght, and I am sure he hath slayne Kay. And I se be his grete strengthe hit woll be harde to macche hym.’
And therewithall sir Uwayne gate his speare and rode towarde sir Launcelot. And sir Launcelot knew hym well and lette his horse renne on the playne and gaff hym suche a buffette that he was astooned, and longe he wyste nat where he was.
‘Now se I welle,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘I muste encountir with that knyght,’ and dressed his shylde and gate a good speare in his honde and lete renne at sir Launcelot with all his myght; and eyther knyght smote other in myddys of the shylde. But sir Gawaynes spere braste, and sir Launcelot charged so sore uppon hym that his horse reversed up-so-downe, and muche sorow had sir Gawayne to avoyde his horse. And so sir Launcelot passed on a pace and smyled and seyde, ‘God gyff hym joy that this spere made, for there cam never a bettir in my honde.’ Than the four knyghtes wente echone to other and comforted each other.
‘What sey ye by this geste,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that with one spere hath felde us all four?’
‘We commaunde hym to the devyll,’ they seyde all, ‘for he is a man of grete myght.’
‘Ye may say hit well,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that he is a man of myght, for I dare ley my hede hit is sir Launcelot: I know hym well by his rydyng.’
‘Latte hym go,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘for whan we com to the courte we shall wete.’ Than had they much sorow to gete their horsis agayne.
Now leve we there and speke we of sir Launcelot that rode a grete [14] whyle in a depe foreste. And as he rode he sawe a blak brachette sekyng in maner as hit had bene in the feaute of an hurte dere. And therewith he rode aftir the brachette and he sawe lye on the grounde a large feaute of bloode. And than sir Launcelot rode faster, and ever the brachette loked behynde hir, and so she wente thorow a grete marys, and ever sir Launcelot folowed.
And than was he ware of an olde maner, and thydir ran the brachette and so over a brydge. So sir Launcelot rode over that brydge that was olde and feble, and whan he com in the myddys of a grete halle there he seye lye dede a knyght that was a semely man, and that brachette lycked his woundis. And therewithal! com oute a lady wepyng and wryngyng hir hondys, and sayde, ‘Knyght, to much
e sorow hast thou brought me.’
‘Why sey ye so?’ seyde sir Launcelot. ‘I dede never this knyght no harme, for hydir by the feaute of blood this brachet brought me. And therefore, fayre lady, be nat dyspleased with me, for I am full sore agreved for your grevaunce.’
‘Truly, sir,’ she seyde, ‘I trowe hit be nat ye that hath slayne my husbonde, for he that dud that dede is sore wounded and is never lykly to be hole, that shall I ensure hym.’
‘What was youre husbondes name?’ seyde sir Launcelot.
‘Sir, his name was called sir Gylberd the Bastarde, one of the beste knyghtys of the worlde, and he that hath slayne hym I know nat his name.’
‘Now God sende you bettir comforte,’ seyde sir Launcelor.
And so he departed and wente into the foreste agayne, and there he mette with a damesell the whyche knew hym well. And she seyde on lowde, ‘Well be ye founde, my lorde. And now I requyre you of your knyghthode helpe my brother that is sore wounded and never styntyth bledyng; for this day he fought with sir Gylberte the Bastarde and slew hym in playne batayle, and there was my brother sore wounded. And there is a lady, a sorseres, that dwellyth in a castel here bysyde, and this day she tolde me my brothers woundys sholde never be hole tyll I coude fynde a knyght wolde go into the Chapel Perelus, and there he sholde fynde a swerde and a blody cloth that the woundid knyght was lapped in; and a pece of that cloth and that swerde sholde hele my brother, with that his woundis were serched with the swerde and the cloth.’
‘This is a mervelouse thyng,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘but what is your brothirs name?’
‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘sir Melyot de Logyrs.’
‘That me repentys,’ seyde sir Launcelotte, ‘for he is a felow of the Table Rounde, and to his helpe I woll do my power.’
Than she sayde, ‘Sir, folow ye evyn this hygheway, and hit woll brynge you to the Chapel Perelus, and here I shall abyde tyll God sende you agayne. And yf you spede nat I know no knyght lyvynge that may encheve that adventure.’
Ryght so sir Launcelot departed, and whan he com to the Chapell [15] Perelus he alyght downe and tyed his horse unto a lytyll gate. And as sone as he was within the chyrche-yerde he sawe on the frunte of the chapel many fayre ryche shyldis turned up-so-downe, and many of the shyldis sir Launcelot had sene knyghtes bere byforehande. With that he sawe by hym there stonde a thirty grete knyghtes, more by a yerde than any man that ever he had sene, and all they grenned and gnasted at sir Launcelot. And whan he sawe their countenaunce he dredde hym sore, and so put his shylde before hym and toke his swerde in his honde redy unto batayle.
And they all were armed all in blak harneyse, redy with her shyldis and her swerdis redy drawyn. And as sir Launcelot wolde have gone thorow them they skaterd on every syde of hym and gaff hym the way, and therewith he wexed bolde and entyrde into the chapel. And there he sawe no lyght but a dymme lampe brennyng, and than was he ware of a corpus hylled with a clothe of sylke. Than sir Launcelot stouped doune and kutte a pese away of that cloth, and than hit fared undir hym as the grounde had quaked a lytyll; therewithall he feared.
And than he sawe a fayre swerde lye by the dede knyght, and that he gate in his honde and hyed hym oute of the chapell. Anone as ever he was in the chapell-yerde all the knyghtes spake to hym with grymly voyces and seyde, ‘Knyght, sir Launcelot, lay that swerde frome the or thou shalt dye!’
‘Whether that I lyve other dye,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘with no wordys grete gete ye hit agayne. Therefore fyght for hit and ye lyst.’ Than ryght so he passed thorowoute them. And byyonde the chappell-yarde there mette hym a fayre damesell and seyde, ‘Sir Launcelot, leve that swerde behynde the, other thou wolt dye for hit.’
‘I leve hit not,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for no thretyng.’
‘No,’ seyde she, ‘and thou dyddyste leve that swerde quene Gwenyvere sholde thou never se.’
‘Than were I a foole and I wolde leve this swerde.’
‘Now, jantyll knyghte,’ seyde the damesell, ‘I requyre the to kysse me but onys.’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that God me forbede.’
“Well, sir,’ seyde she, ‘and thou haddyst kyssed me thy lyff dayes had be done. And now, alas,’ she seyde, ‘I have loste all my laboure, for I ordeyned this chapell for thy sake and for sir Gawayne. And onys I had hym within me, and at that tyme he fought with this knyght that lyeth dede in yondir chapell, sir Gylberte the Bastarde, and at that tyme he smote the lyffte honde of sir Gylberte.
‘And, sir Launcelot, now I telle the: I have loved the this seven yere, but there may no woman have thy love but quene Gwenyver; and sytthen I myght nat rejoyse the nother thy body on lyve, I had kepte no more joy in this worlde but to have thy body dede. Than wolde I have bawmed hit and sered hit, and so to have kepte hit my lyve dayes; and dayly I sholde have clypped the and kyssed the, dispyte of quene Gwenyvere.’
‘Ye sey well,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘Jesu preserve me frome your subtyle crauftys!’
And therewithall he toke his horse and so departed frome hir. And as the booke seyth, whan sir Launcelot was departed she toke suche sorow that she deyde within a fourtenyte; and hir name was called Hallewes the Sorseres, lady of the castell Nygurmous.
And anone sir Launcelot mette with the damesel, sir Melyottis systir, and whan she sawe hym she clapped hir hondys and wepte for joy. And than they rode into a castell thereby where lay sir Melyot, and anone as sir Launcelot sye hym he knew hym, but he was passyng paale as the erthe for bledynge.
Whan sir Melyot saw sir Launcelot he kneled uppon his kneis and cryed on hyghte: ‘A, lorde, sir Launcelot, helpe me anone!’ Than sir Launcelot lepe unto hym and towched his woundys with sir Gylbardys swerde, and than he wyped his woundys with a parte of the bloody cloth that sir Gylbarde was wrapped in; and anone an holer man in his lyff was he never.
And than there was grete joy betwene hem, and they made sir Launcelot all the chere that they myghte. And so on the morne sir Launcelot toke his leve and bade sir Melyot hyghe hym ‘to the courte of my lorde Arthure, for hit drawyth nyghe to the feste of Pentecoste. And there, by the grace of God, ye shall fynde me.’ And therewith they departed.
And so sir Launcelot rode thorow many stronge contrayes, over mores and valeis, tyll by fortune he com to a fayre castell. And as he paste beyonde the castell hym thought he herde bellys rynge, and than he was ware of a faucon com over his hede fleyng towarde an hyghe elme, and longe lunes aboute her feete. And she flowe unto the elme to take hir perche, the lunes overcast aboute a bowghe; and whan she wolde have tane hir flyght she hynge by the leggis faste. And sir Launcelot syghe how she hynge, and behelde the fayre faucon perygot; and he was sory for hir. The meanewhyle cam a lady oute of a castell and cryed on hyghe:
‘A, Launcelot, Launcelot! as thow arte a floure of all knyghtes, helpe me to gete me my hauke; for and my hauke be loste my lorde wolde destroy me, for I kepte the hauke and she slypped fro me. And yf my lorde my husbande wete hit, he is so hasty that he wyll sle me.” ‘What is your lordis name?’ seyde sir Launcelot.
‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘his name is sir Phelot, a knyght that longyth unto the kynge of North Galys.’
‘Well, fayre lady, syn that ye know my name and requyre me of knyghthode to helpe, I woll do what I may to gete youre hauke; and yet God knowyth I am an evyll clymber, and the tre is passynge hyghe, and fewe bowys to helpe me withall.’
And therewith sir Launcelot alyght and tyed his horse to the same tre, and prayde the lady to onarme hym. And so whan he was unarmed he put of all his clothis unto his shurte and his breche, and with myght and grete force he clambe up to the faucon and tyed the lunes to a grete rotyn boysh, and threwe the hauke downe with the buysh.
And anone the lady gate the hauke in hir honde; and therewithall com oute sir Phelot oute of the grevys suddeynly, that was hir husbonde, all armed and with his naked swerde in his honde, and sayde, ‘A knyght, sir Launcelot, now I have founde the as I wolde,’ he stondyng at the boole of the tre to sle hym.
; ‘A, lady!’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘why have ye betrayed me?’
‘She hath done,’ seyde sir Phelot, ‘but as I commaunded hir, and therefore there is none othir boote but thyne oure is com that thou muste dye.’
‘That were shame unto the,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘thou an armed knyght to sle a nakyd man by treson.’
‘Thou gettyste none other grace,’ seyde sir Phelot, and therefore helpe thyself and thou can.’
‘Truly,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that shall be thy shame; but syn thou wolt do none other, take myne harneys with the and hange my swerde there uppon a bowghe that I may gete hit, and than do thy beste to sle me and thou can.’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Phelot, ‘for I know the bettir than thou wenyste. Therefore thou gettyst no wepyn and I may kepe the therefro.’
‘Alas,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that ever a knyght sholde dey wepyn - les!’
And therewith he wayted above hym and undir hym, and over hym above his hede he sawe a rowgh spyke, a bygge bowghe leveles. And therewith he brake hit of by the body, and than he com lowar, and awayted how his owne horse stoode, and suddenyly he lepe on the farther syde of his horse froward the knyght. And than sir Phelot laysshed at hym egerly to have slayne hym, but sir Launcelot put away the stroke with the rowgh spyke, and therewith toke hym on the hede, that downe he felle in a sowghe to the grounde. So than sir Launcelot toke his swerde oute of his honde and strake his necke in two pecys.
‘Alas!’ than cryed that lady, ‘why haste thou slayne my husbonde?’
‘I am nat causer,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘but with falshede ye wolde have had me slayne with treson, and now hit is fallyn on you bothe.’
And than she sowned as though she wolde dey. And therewith sir Launcelot gate all his armoure as well as he myght and put hit uppon hym for drede of more resseite, for he dredde hym that the knyghtes castell was so nyghe hym; and as sone as he myght he toke his horse and departed, and thanked God that he had escaped that harde adventure.
17 [7] — So sir Launcelot rode many wylde wayes thorowoute morys and mares, and as he rode in a valay, he sey a knyght chasyng a lady with a naked swerde to have slayne hir. And by fortune, as this knyght sholde have slayne thys lady, she cryed on sir Launcelot and pray de hym to rescowe her.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 24
