‘I mervayle,’ seyde kynge Marke, ‘what knyght he is that doth suche dedis of armys.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I know hym well for a noble knyght as fewe now be lyvynge, and his name is sir Lamerake de Galys.”Hit were shame,’ seyde the kynge, ‘that he sholde go thus away onles that he were manne-handled.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘mesemyth hit were no worshyp for a nobleman to have ado with hym, and for this cause: for at this tyme he hath done overmuche for ony meane knyght lyvynge. And as me semyth,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘hit were shame to tempte hym ony more, for his horse is wery and hymselff both for the dedes of armes he hath done this day. Welle concidered, hit were inow for sir Launcelot du Lake.’
‘As for that,’ seyde kynge Marke, ‘I requyre you, as ye love me and my lady the quene La Beale Isode, take youre armys and juste with sir Lameroke de Galis.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘ye bydde me do a thynge that is ayenste knyghthode. And well I can thynke that I shall gyff hym a falle, for hit is no maystry: for my horse and y be freysshe, and so is nat his horse and he. And wete you well that he woll take hit for grete unkyndenes, for ever one good knyght is loth to take anothir at avauntage. But bycause I woll nat displase, as ye requyre me so muste I do and obey youre commaundemente.’
And so sir Trystrames armed hym and toke his horse and putte hym forth, and there sir Lameroke mette hym myghtyly. And what with the myght of his owne spere and of syr Trystrames spere sir Lameroke his horse felle to the erthe, and he syttynge in the sadyll.
So as sone as he myght he avoyded the sadyll and his horse, and put his shylde afore hym, and drewe his swerde. And than he bade sir Trystrames, ‘alyght, thou knyght, and thou darste!’
‘Nay, sir!’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I woll no more have ado wyth you, for I have done the overmuche unto my dyshonoure and to thy worshyppe.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘I can the no thanke; syn thou haste forjusted me on horsebacke I requyre the and I beseche the, and thou be sir Trystrames de Lyones, feyght with me on foote.’
‘I woll nat,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘and wete you well my name is sir Trystrames de Lyones, and well I know that ye be sir Lameroke de Galis. And this have I done to you ayenst my wyll, but I was requyred thereto. But to sey that I woll do at your requeste as at this tyme, I woll nat have no more ado with you at this tyme, for me shamyth of that I have done.’
‘As for the shame,’ seyde sir Lamerake, ‘on thy party or on myne, beare thou hit and thou wyll: for thoughe a marys sonne hath fayled me now, yette a quenys sonne shall nat fayle the! And therefore, and thou be suche a knyght as men calle the, I requyre the alyght and fyght with me!’
‘Sir Lameroke,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I undirstonde your harte is grete, and cause why ye have to sey the soth, for hit wolde greve me and ony good knyght sholde kepe hym freyssh and than to stryke downe a wery knyght; for that knyght nother horse was never fourmed that allway may endure. And therefore,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I woll nat have ado with you, for me forthynkes of that I have done.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘I shall quyte you and ever I se my tyme.’
[34] So he departed frome hym with sir Dryaunte, and by the way they mette with a knyght that was sente fro dame Morgan le Fay unto kynge Arthure. And this knyght had a fayre home harneyste with golde, and the home had suche a vertu that there myght no lady nothir jantyllwoman drynke of that home but yf she were trew to her husbande; and if she were false she sholde spylle all the drynke, and if she were trew to her lorde she myght drynke thereof pesiblé. And because of the quene Gwenyvere and in the dispyte of sir Launcelot this home was sente unto kynge Arthure. And so by forse sir Lameroke made that knyght to telle all the cause why he bare the horne, and so he tolde hym all hole.
‘Now shalt thou bere this home,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘to kynge Marke, othir chose to dye. For in the dyspyte of sir Trystrames thou shalt bere hit hym, that horne, and sey that I sente hit hym for to assay his lady, and yf she be trew he shall preve her.’
So this knyght wente his way unte kynge Marke and brought hym that ryche horne, and seyde that sir Lamerok sente hit hym, and so he tolde hym the vertu of that home.
Than the kynge made his quene to drynke thereof, and an hondred ladyes with her, and there were but four ladyes of all the that dranke clene.
‘Alas!’ seyde kynge Marke, ‘this is a grete dyspyte,’ and swore a grete othe that she sholde be brente and the other ladyes also.
Than the barowns gadred them togedyrs and seyde playnly they wolde nat have the ladyes brente for an horne made by sorsery that cam ‘frome the false sorseres and wycche moste that is now lyvyng’. For that horne dud never good, but caused stryff and bate, and allway in her dayes she was an enemy to all trew lovers.
So there were many knyghtes made their avowe that and ever they mette wyth Morgan le Fay that they wolde shew her shorte curtesy. Also syr Trystrames was passyng wroth that sir Lamerok sent that horne unto kynge Marke, for welle he knew that hit was done in the dispyte of hym, and therefore he thought to quyte sir Lameroke.
Than sir Trystrames used dayly and nyghtly to go to quene Isode evir whan he myght, and ever sir Andret, his cosyn, wacched hym nyght by nyght for to take hym with La Beale Isode.
And so uppon a nyght sir Andret aspyed his owre and the tyme whan sir Trystrames went to his lady. Than sir Andret gate unto hym twelve knyghtis, and at mydnyght he sette uppon sir Trystrames secretly and suddeynly. And there sir Trystrames was takyn nakyd a-bed with La Beale Isode, and so was he bounde hande and foote and kepte tyll day.
And than by the assent of kynge Marke and of sir Andret and of som of the barownes sir Trystramys was lad unto a chapell that stood uppon the see rockys, there for to take his jugemente. And so he was lad bounden with forty knyghtes, and whan sir Trystrames saw that there was none other boote but nedis he muste dye, than seyde he, ‘Fayre lordis! Remembir what I have done for the contrey of Cornwayle, and what jouparté I have bene in for the wele of you all. For whan I fought for the trewage of Cornwayle! with sir Marhalte, the good knyght, I was promysed to be bettir rewarded, whan ye all refused to take the batayle. Therefore, as ye be good jantyll knyghtes, se me nat thus shamfully to dye, for hit is shame to all knyghthode thus to se me dye. For I dare sey,’ seyde sir Trystrams, ‘that I mette never with no knyght but I was as good as he or better.’
‘Fye uppon the!’ seyde sir Andrete, ‘false traytur thou arte with thyne advauntage! For all thy boste thou shalt dye this day!’
‘A, Andrete, Andrete!’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘thou sholdyst be my kynnysman, and now arte to me full unfrendely. But and there were no more but thou and I, thou woldyst nat put me to deth.’
‘No?’ seyde sir Andred, and therewith he drew his swerde and wolde have slayne hym.
So whan sir Trystrames sye hym make that countenaunce he loked uppon bothe his hondis that were faste boundyn unto two knyghtes, and suddeynly he pulde them bothe unto hym and unwrayste his hondis, and lepe unto his cosyn sir Andred, and wroth his swerde oute of his hondis. And than he smote sir Andret, that he felle downe to the erthe, and so he fought that he kylde ten knyghtys.
So than sir Trystrames gate the chapell and kepte hyt myghtyly. Than the crye was grete, and peple drew faste unto sir Andret, me than an hondred. So whan sir Trystramys saw the peple draw unto hym he remembyrd he was naked, and sparde faste the chapell dore and brake the barrys of a wyndow, and so he lepe oute and felle uppon the craggys in the see.
And so at that tyme sir Andret nothir none of his felowys myght nat gete hym. But whan they were departed, Governayle and sir Lambegus and sir Sentrayle de Lushon, that were sir Trystrames men, sought sore aftir their maystir whan they herde he was ascaped. And so on the rokkys they founde hym, and with towels pulde hym up And than sir Trystrames asked where was La Beale Isode.
‘Sir,’ seyde Governayle, ‘she is put in a lazar-cote.’
‘Alas!’ seyde sir Trystr
ames, ‘that is a full ungoodly place for suche a fayre lady, and yf I may she shall nat be longe there.’
And so he toke hys men and wente thereas was La Beale Isode, and fette her away, and brought her into a fayre foreste to a fayre maner; and so he abode there with hir. So now this good knyght bade his men departe, for at that tyme he myght nat helpe them, and so they departed all save Governayle.
And so uppon a day sir Trystrames yode into the foroste for to disporte hym, and there he felle on slepe. And so happynde there cam to sir Trystrames a man that he had slayne his brothir. And so whan this man had founde hym he shotte hym thorow the sholdir with an arow, and anone sir Trystrames sterte up and kylde that man.
And in the meanetyme hit was tolde unto kynge Marke how sir Trystrames and La Beale Isode were in that same maner, and thydir he cam with many knyghtes to sle sir Trystrames. And whan he cam there he founde hym gone, and anone he toke La Beale Isode home with hym and kepte her strayte, that by no meane she myght never wryght nor sende.
And whan sir Trystrames com toward the maner he founde the tracke of many horse, and loked aboute in the place and knew that his lady was gone. And than sir Trystrames toke grete sorow and endured with grete sorow and payne longe tyme, for the arow that he was hurte wythall was envenomed.
So by the meane of La Beale Isode she bade a lady that was cosyn unto dame Brangwayne, and she cam unto sir Trystrames and tolde hym that he myght nat be hole by no meanys, ‘for thy lady Isode may nat helpe the; therefore she byddyth you, haste you into Bretayne unto kynge Howell, and there shall ye fynde his doughter that is called Isode le Blaunche Maynes, and there shall ye fynde that she shall helpe you.’
Than sir Trystrames and Governayle gate them shyppyng, and so sayled into Bretayne. And whan kyng Howell knew that hit was sir Trystrames he was full glad of hym.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I am com unto this contrey to have helpe of youre doughter, for hit is tolde me that there is none other may hele me but she.’
And so Twithin a whylel she heled hym.
There was an erle that hyght Grype, and thys erle made grete [36] warre uppon the kynge and putte hym to the werse and byseged hym. And on a tyme sir Keyhydyns that was sonne to the kynge Howell, as he issewed oute he was sore wounded nyghe to the deth. Than Governayle wente to the kynge and seyde, ‘Sir, I counceyle you to desyre my lorde sir Trystrames as in your nede to helpe you.’
‘I woll do by youre counceyle,’ seyde the kynge. And so he yode unto sir Trystrames and prayde hym as in his warrys to helpe hym, ‘for my sonne sir Keyhidyns may nat go unto the fylde.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I woll go to the fylde and do what I may.’
So sir Trystrames issued oute of the towne wyth suche felyshyp as he myght make, and ded suche dedys that all Bretayne spake of hym. And than at the laste by grete force he slew the erle Grype his owne hondys, and me than an hondred knyghtes he slew that day. And than sir Trystrames was resceyved into the cyté worshypfully with procession. Than kyng Howell enbraced hym in his armys and seyde, ‘Sir Trystrames, all my kyngedom I woll resygne to you.’
‘God defende!’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘for I am beholdyn thereto for your doughtyrs sake to do for you more than that.’
So by the grete meanes of the kynge and his sonne there grewe grete love betwyxte Isode and sir Trystrames, for that lady was bothe goode and fayre, and a woman of noble bloode and fame. And for because that sir Trystrames had suche chere and ryches and all other plesaunce that he had allmoste forsakyn La Beale Isode.
And so uppon a tyme sir Trystrames aggreed to wed this Isode le Blaunche Maynes. And so at the laste they were wedded and solemply hylde their maryayge. And so whan they were a-bed bothe, sir Trystrames remembirde hym of his olde lady, La Beale Isode, and than he toke suche a thoughte suddeynly that he was all dismayed, and other chere made he none but with clyppynge and kyssynge. As for other fleyshely lustys, sir Trystrames had never ado with hir: suche mencion makyth the Freynshe booke. Also hit makyth mencion that the lady wente there had be no plesure but kyssynge and clyppynge.
And in the meanetyme there was a knyght in Bretayne, his name was sir Suppynabyles, and he com over the see into Inglonde, and so he com into the courte of kynge Arthure. And there he mette with sir Launcelot du Lake and tolde hym of the maryayge of sir Trystrames. Than seyde sir Launcelot, ‘Fye uppon hym, untrew knyght to his lady! That so noble a knyght as sir Trystrames is sholde be founde to his fyrst lady and love untrew, that is the quene of Cornwayle! But sey ye to hym thus,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that of all knyghtes in the worlde I have loved hym moost and had moost joye of hym, and all was for his noble dedys. And lette hym wete that the love betwene hym and me is done for ever, and that I gyff hym warnyng: from this day forthe I woll be his mortall enemy.’
So departed sir Suppynabiles unto Bretayne agayne, and there he [37] founde sir Trystrames and tolde hym that he had bene in kynge Arthures courte. Than sir Trystrames seyde, ‘Herd ye onythynge of me?’
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde sir Suppynabyles, ‘there I harde sir Launcelot speke of you grete shame, and that ye ar a false knyght to youre lady. And he bade me to do you to wyte that he woll be youre mortal foo in every place where he may mete you.’
‘That me repentyth,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘for of all knyghtes I loved moste to be in his felyshyp.’
Than sir Trystrames was ashamed and made grete mone that ever any knyghtes sholde defame hym for the sake of his lady.
And so in this meanewhyle La Beale Isode made a lettir unto quene Gwenyvere complaynyng her of the untrouthe of sir Trystrames, how he had wedded the kynges doughter of Bretayne. So quene Gwenyver sente her another letter and bade her be of goode comforte, for she sholde have joy aftir sorow: for sir Trystrames was so noble a knyght called that by craftes of sorsery ladyes wolde make suche noble men to wedde them. ‘But the ende’, quene Gwenyver seyde, shulde be thus, that he shall hate her and love you bettir than ever he dud.’
II. SIR LAMEROK DE GALYS
[1] So leve we sir Trystrames in Bretayne, and speke we of sir Lameroke de Galys, that as he sayled his shyppe felle on a rocke and disperysshed all save sir Lameroke and his squyer; for he swamme so myghtyly that fysshers of the Ile of Servayge toke hym up, and his squyer was drowned. And the shypmen had grete labour to save sir Lameroke his lyff for all the comforte that they coude do.
And the lorde of that ile hyght sir Nabon le Noyre, a grete myghty gyaunte, and thys sir Nabon hated all the knyghtes of kynge Arthures, and in no wyse he wolde do hem no favoure. And thes fysshers tolde sir Lameroke all the gyse of syr Nabon, how there com never knyght of kyng Arthurs but he distroyed hym. And the laste batayle that ever he ded was wyth sir Nanowne le Petyte, and whan he had wonne hym he put hym to a shamefull deth in the despyte of kynge Arthure: he was drawyn lym-meale.
‘That forthynkes me,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘for that knyghtes deth, for he was my cosyn, and yf I were at myne ease as well as ever I was, I wolde revenge his deth.’
‘Paase,’ seyde the fysshers, ‘and make here no wordys! For or ever ye departe frome hens sir Nabon muste know that ye have bene here, othir ellis we shall dye for your sake.’
‘So that I be hole,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘of my mysse-ease that I have takyn in the see, I woll that ye telle hym that I am a knyght of kyng Arthures, for I was never ferde to renayne my lorde.’
Now turne we unto sir Trystrams, that uppon a day he toke a lytyll barget and hys wyff Isode le Blaunche Maynys wyth syr Keyhydyns, her brother, to sporte hem on the costis. And whan they where frome the londe there was a wynde that drove hem into the coste of Walys uppon this Ile of Servage whereas was sir Lameroke.
And there the barget all to-rove, and there dame Isode was hurte, and as well as they myght they gate into the forest. And there by a welle he sye sir Segwarydes, and a damesell with hym, and than aythir salewed other.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Segwarydes, ‘I know you well for sir Trystrames de Lyones, the man in the wo
rlde that I have moste cause to hate, bycause ye departed the love betwene me and my wyff. But as for that,’ seyde sir Segwarydes, ‘I woll never hate a noble knyght for a lyght lady, and therefore I pray you to be my frende, and I woll be yourys unto my power. For wete you well ye ar harde bestadde in this valey, and we shall have inowe ado ayther to succoure other.’
And so sir Segwarydes brought sir Trystrames to a lady thereby that was borne in Cornwayle, and she told hym all the pereles of that valay, how there cam never knyght there but he were takyn presonere or slayne.
‘Wete you well, fayre lady,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘that I slew sir Marhalte and delyverde Cornwayle frome the trewage of Irelonde. And I am he that delyverde the kynge of Irelonde frome sir Blamoure de Ganys, and I am he that bete sir Palomydes, and wete you welle that I am sir Trystrames de Lyones that by the grace of God shall delyver this wofull Ile of Servage.’
So sir Trystrames was well eased that nyght. Than one tolde hym there was a knyght of kynge Arthurs that wrakked on the rockes.
‘What is his name?’ seyde sir Trystrames.
‘We wote nat,’ seyde the fysshers, ‘but he kepyth hit no counsel that he is a knyght of kynge Arthurs, and by the myghty lorde of thys yle he settyth nought.’
‘I pray you,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘and ye may, brynge hym hydir that I may se hym. And if he be ony of the noble knyghtes I know hym.’
Than the good lady prayde the fysshers to brynge hym to hir place. So on the morne they brought hym thydir in a fysshers garmente, and as sone as sir Trystrames sy hym he smyled uppon hym and knew hym well. But he knew nat sir Trystrams.
‘Fayre sir,’ seyde sir Trystrams, mesemyth be youre chere that ye have bene desesed but late, and also methynkyth I sholde know ye heretoforne.’
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