‘I woll well,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘that ye have seyne me, for the nobelyst knyghtes of the Table Rownde have seyne me and mette with me.’
‘Fayre sir,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘telle me youre name.’
‘Sir, uppon a covenaunte I woll tell you, so that ye telle me whether that ye be lorde of thys ilonde or no, that is callyd sir Nabon le Noyre.’
‘I am nat, nother I holde nat of hym, but I am his foo as well as ye be, and so shall I be founde or I departe of this ile.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Lamerok, syn ye have seyde so largely unto me, my name is syr Lamerok de Galys, son unto kynge Pellynore.”Forsothe, I trow well,’ seyde syr Trystrams, ‘for and ye seyde other I know the contrary.’
‘What are ye,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘that knowith so me?’
‘Forsothe, sir, I am sir Trystrames de Lyones.’
‘A, sir, remembir ye nat of the fall ye dud gyff me onys, and aftir that ye refused to fyght on foote with me?’
‘Sir, that was nat for no feare that I had of you, but me shamed at that tyme to have more ado with you, for as me semed ye had inowe ado. But, sir, wete you well, for my kyndenesse ye put many ladyes to a repreff whan ye sent the horne from Morgan le Fay unto kynge Marke. And hit sholde have gone to kynge Arthure, whereas ye dud that in dispy te of me.’
‘Well,’ seyde he, and hit were to do agayne, so wolde I do, for I had lever stryff and debate felle in kyng Markys courte rether than in kynge Arthurs courte, for the honour of bothe courtes be nat lyke.”As to that,’ seyde sir Trystrams, ‘I know well; but that, that was done for dispyte of me. But all youre malyce, I thanke God, hurte nat gretly. Therefore,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘ye shall leve all youre malyce and so woll I, and lette us assay how we may wynne worshyp betwene you and me uppon this gyaunte sir Nabon le Noyre, that is lorde of this ilonde, to destroy hym.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘now I understonde youre knyghthode. Hit may nat be false that all men sey, for of youre bounté, nobles, and worshyp of all knyghtes ye ar pereles. And for your curtesy and jantylnes I shewed you unkyndnesse, and that now me repentyth.’ So in the meanetyme cam worde that sir Nabon had made a cry that all people sholde be at his castell the fifth day aftir, and the same day the sonne of Nabon sholde be made knyght, and all the knyghtes of that valey and thereaboute sholde be there to juste, and all the of the realme of Logrys sholde be there to juste wyth them of Northe Walys.
And thydir cam fyve hondred knyghtes. And so they of the contrey brought thydir sir Lamerok and sir Trystrames and sir Keyhydyns and sir Segwarydes, for they durste none otherwyse do. And than Nabon lente sir Lamerok horse and armour at his owne desyre. And so sir Lamerok justed and dud suche dedis of armys that sir Nabon and all the people seyde there was never knyght that ever they sie that dud such dedis of armys. For, as the booke seyth, he forjusted all that were there for the moste party of fyve hondred knyghtes, that none abode hym in his sadyll.
Than sir Nabon profirde sir Lamerok to play his play with hym, ‘for I saw never one knyght do so muche uppon one day.’
‘I woll well,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘play as I may, but I am wery and sore brused.’
And there aythir gate a speare, but this sir Nabone wolde nat encountir with sir Lameroke, but smote his horse in the forehede and so slew hym. And than sir Lameroke yode on foote, and turned his shylde and drew his swerde, and there began stronge batayle on foote. But sir Lameroke was so sore brused and shorte brethid that he traced and traversed somwhat abacke.
‘Fayre felow,’ seyde sir Nabone, ‘holde thy honde, and I shall shewe the more curtesy than ever I shewyd knyght, because I have sene this day thy noble knyghthode. And therefore stonde thou by, and I woll wete whethir ony of thy felowys woll have ado with me.’
Whan sir Trystrames harde that he seyde, ‘Sir Nabone, lende me horse and sure armoure, and I woll have ado with you.’
‘Well, felow,’ seyde sir Nabone, ‘go thou to yondir pavylyon and arme the of the beste thou fyndyst there, and I shall play sone a mervayles pley wyth the.’
Than seyde sir Trystrames, ‘Loke ye play well, other ellys peraventure I shall lerne you a new play.’
‘That is well seyde,’ seyde sir Nabone.
So whan sir Trystrames was armed as hym lyked beste and well shylded and swerded, he dressed to hym on foote, ‘for well I know that sir Nabone wolde nat abyde a stroke with a speare, and therefore he woll sle all knyghtes horse.’
‘Now, fayre felow,’ seyde sir Nabone, ‘latte us play!’
And so they fought longe on foote, trasynge and traversynge, smytynge and foynynge longe withoute ony reste. So at the laste sir Nabone prayde hym to tell hym his name.
‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘my name ys sir Trystrames de Lyones, a knyght of Cornwayle, whyche am undir kynge Marke.’
‘A, thou arte wellcom!’ seyde sir Nabone, ‘for of all knyghtes I have moste desyred to fyght wyth the othir ellys wyth sir Launcelot.’
And so they wente than egerly togydir, that at the laste sir Trystrames slew sir Nabone. And so forthwithall he lepe to his sonne and strake of his hede. Than all the contrey seyde they wolde holde of sir Trystrames all the whole valay of Servage.
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘I woll nat so, for here is a worshypfull knyght, sir Lameroke de Galys, that for me he shall be lorde of this ile: for he hath done here grete dedis of armys.’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘I woll nat be lorde of this countrey, for I have nat deserved hit as well as ye. Therefore gyff ye hit where ye woll, for I woll none have.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Trystrames, ‘syn ye nother I woll have hit, lett us gyff hit unto hym that hath nat so well deserved hit.’
‘Sir, do as ye lyste, for the gyffte is owres, for I woll none and I had deserved hit.’
And so by assente hit was yevyn unto sir Segwarydes. And he thanked them, and so was he lorde, and worshypfully he dud governe hem. And than sir Segwarydes delyvirde all the presoners and sette good governaunce in that valey.
And so he turned into Cornwayle and tolde kynge Marke and La Beale Isode how sir Trystrames had avaunced hym in the Ile of Servayge. And there he proclaymed in all Cornwayle of all the aventures of thes two knyghtes, and so was hit opynly knowyn. But full we was La Beale Isode whan she herde telle that sir Trystrames had with hym Isode le Blaunche Maynys.
So turne we unto sir Lamerok that rode towarde kynge Arthures courte. And so sir Trystramys wyff and sir Keyhydyns toke a vessel and sayled into Bretayne unto kynge Howell where they were wellcom. And whan they herde of thes adventures they mervayled of his noble dedis. Now turne we unto sir Lameroke that whan he was departed frome sir Trystrames he rode oute of the foreste tyll he cam to an ermytage. And whan the ermyte sawe hym he asked frome whens he com.
‘Sir, I am com frome this valey.’
‘That mervayle we off, for this twenty wyntir,’ seyde the ermyte, ‘I saw never knyght passe this contrey but he was other slayne other vylansely wounded or passe as a poore presonere.’
‘Sir, the evyll customys are fordone,” seyde sir Lameroke, ‘for sir Trystrames hath slayne youre lorde sir Nabone and his sonne.’
Than was the ermyte glade and all his brethirne, for he seyde there was never suche a tirraunte amonge Crystyn men. ‘And therefore,’ seyde the ermyte, ‘this valey of fraunchyse shall ever holde of sir Trystrames.’
So on the morne sir Lameroke departed, and as he rode he sawe four knyghtes fyght ayenste one, and that one knyght defended hym well, but at the laste the four knyghtes had hym downe. And than sir Lameroke wente betwexte them and asked them why they wolde sle that one knyght, and seyde hit was shame, four ayenste one.
‘Thow shalt well wete,’ seyde the four knyghtes, ‘that he is false.’
‘So that is your tale,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘and whan I here hym speke I woll sey as ye sey. Sir,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘how sey you? Can ye nat excuse you none otherwyse but that ye ar a false knyght?’
‘Sir, yett can I excuse me
bothe with my worde and with my hondys, and that woll I make good uppon one of the beste of them, my body to his body.’
Than spake they all at onys: ‘We woll nat jouparté oure bodyes, but wete thou welle,’ they seyde, ‘and kynge Arthure were here hymselff, hit sholde nat lye in his power to save his lyff.’
‘That is seyde to largely,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘but many spekyth behynde a man more than he woll seye to his face. And for because of youre wordis ye shall undirstonde that I am one of the symplyst of kynge Arthures courte, and in the worshyp of my lorde now do your beste, and in the dispyte of you I shall rescow hym!’
And than they layshed all at onys to syr Lameroke, but at two strokis he had slayne two of them. Than the other two fled. So than sir Lamerok turned agayne unto that knyght and horsed hym and asked hym his name.
‘Sir, my name is sir Froll of the Oute Ilys.’
And so he rode with sir Lameroke and bare hym company. And as they rode by the way they sawe a semely knyght rydynge and commynge ayenst them, and all in whyght.
‘A,’ seyde sir Froll, ‘yondir knyght justed but late wyth me and smote me downe, therefore I woll juste with hym.’
‘Ye shall nat do so,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘be my counceyle. And ye woll tell me your quarrell, where ye justed at his requeste other he at youres.’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Froll, ‘I justed with hym at my requeste.’
‘Sir, than woll I counceyle you, deale no more with hym, for, lyke his countenaunce, he sholde be a noble knyght and no japer: for methynkys he sholde be of the Rounde Table.’
‘As for that, I woll nat spare,’ seyde sir Froll.
Than he cryed and seyde, ‘Sir knyght, make the redy to juste!’
‘That nedyth nat,’ seyde the whyghte knyght, ‘for I have no luste to jape nother juste.’
So they feautred their sperys, and the whyght knyght overthrewe sir Froll and than he rode his way a soffte pace. Than sir Lameroke rode aftir hym and prayde hym to telle his name, ‘for mesemyth ye sholde be of the felyshyp of the Rounde Table.’
‘Sir, uppon a covenaunte, that ye woll nat telle my name, and also that ye woll tell me youres.’
‘Sir, my name is sir Lamerok de Galis.’
‘And my name is sir Launcelot du Lake.’
Than they putt up their swerdys and kyssed hertely togydirs, and aythir made grete joy of other.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Lameroke, and hit please you I woll do you servyse.’
‘God deffende, sir, that ony of so noble a blood as ye be sholde do me servyse.’ Than seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I am in a queste that I muste do myselff alone.’
‘Now God spede you!’ seyde sir Lameroke.
And so they departed. Than sir Lamerok com to sir Froll and horsed hym agayne.
‘Sir, what knyght is that?’ seyde sir Froll.
‘Sir, hit is nat for you to know, nother is no poynte of youre charge.’
‘Ye ar the more uncurteyse,’ seyde sir Froll, ‘and therefore I woll departe felyshyp.’
‘Ye may do as ye lyste, and yett be my company ye have savid the fayryst floure of your garlonde.’
So they departed. Than wythin I”two or”l three dayes sir Lamerok [41] founde a knyght at a welle slepynge and his lady sate with hym and waked. Ryght so com sir Gawayne and toke the knyghtes lady and sette hir up behynde hys squyer. So sir Lamerok rode aftir sir Gawayne and seyde, ‘Sir, turne ayen!’
Than seyde sir Gawayne, ‘What woll ye do with me? I am nevew unto kynge Arthure.’
‘Sir, for that cause I woll forbeare you, othir ellys that lady sholde abyde with me.’
Than sir Gawayne turned hym and ran to hym that ought the lady with his speare, but the knyght wyth pure myght smote downe sir Gawayne and toke his lady with hym. And all this sye sir Lamerok and seyde to hymselff, ‘but I revenge my felow he woll sey me dishonour in kynge Arthurs courte.’ Than sir Lamerok returned and profyrde that knyght to fyght.
‘Sir, I am redy,’ seyde he.
And there they cam togedyrs with all theire myght, and sir Lamerok smote the knyght thorow bothe sydis that he fylle to the erthe dede. Than that lady rode to that knyghtis brothir that hyght sir Bellyaunce le Orgulus that dwelled faste thereby and tolde hym how his brother was slayne.
‘Alas!’ seyde he, ‘I woll be revenged.’
And so he horsed hym and armed hym, and within a whyle he overtoke sir Lamerok and bade hym turne, ‘and leve that lady, for thou and I muste play a new play: for thow haste slayne my brother sir Froll that was a bettir knyght than ever was thou.’
‘Ye may well say hit,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘but this day in the playne fylde I was founde the bettir knyght.’
So they rode togydyrs and unhorsed eche other, and turned their shyldis and drew their swerdys, and foughte myghtyly as noble knyghtes preved the space of two owres. So than sir Bellyaunce prayde hym to telle hym his name.
‘Sir, my name is sir Lameroke de Galys.’
‘A,’ seyde sir Bellyaunce, ‘thou arte the man in the worlde that I moste hate, for I slew my sunnys for thy sake where I saved thy lyff, and now thou haste slayne my brothir sir Froll. Alas, how sholde I be accorded with the? Therefore defende the! Thou shalt dye! There is none other way nor remedy.’
‘Alas!’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘full well me ought to know you, for ye ar the man that moste have done for me.’ And therewithall sir Lamerok kneled adowne and besought hym of grace.
‘Aryse up!’ seyde sir Bellyaunce, ‘othir ellys thereas thou knelyste I shall sle the!’
‘That shall nat nede,’ seyde sir Lameroke, ‘for I woll yelde me to you, nat for no feare of you nor of youre strength, but youre goodnesse makyth me to lothe to have ado with you. Wherefore I requyre you, for Goddis sake and for the honour of knyghthode, forgyff me all that I have offended unto you.’
‘Alas!’ seyde sir Bellyaunce, ‘leve thy knelynge, other ellys I shall sle the withoute mercy.’
Than they yode agayne to batayle and aythir wounded othir, that all the grounde was blody thereas they fought. And at the laste sir Bellyaunce withdrew hym abacke and sette hym downe a lytyll uppon an hylle, for he was faynte for bledynge, that he myght nat stonde. Than sir Lameroke threw his shylde uppon his backe and cam unto hym and asked hym what chere.
‘Well,’ seyde sir Bellyaunce.
‘A, sir, yett shall I shew you favoure in youre male ease.’
‘A, knyght,’ seyde sir Bellyaunce unto sir Lamerok, ‘thou arte a foole, for and I had the at suche avauntage as thou haste me, I sholde sle the. But thy jantylnesse is so good and so large that I muste nedys forgyff the myne evyll wyll.’
And than sir Lameroke kneled adowne and unlaced fyrst his umbrere and than his owne, and than aythir kyssed othir with wepynge tearys. Than sir Lamerok led sir Bellyaunce to an abbey faste by, and there sir Lamerok wolde nat departe from sir Bellyaunce tylle he was hole. And than they were sworne togydyrs that none of hem sholde never fyght ayenste other.
So sir Lamerok departed and wente to the courte of Arthur.
HERE LEVVTH OF THE TALE OF SIR LAMEROK AND OF SYR TRYSTRAMYS, AND HERE BEGYNNYTH THE TALE OF SYR LA COTE MALE TAYLE THAT WAS A GOOD KNYGHT.
III. LA COTE MALE TAYLE
[1] TO the courte of kynge Arthure there cam a yonge man bygly made, [1] and he was rychely beseyne, and he desyred to be made a knyght of the kynges. But his overgarmente sate overthwartely, howbehit hit was ryche clothe of golde.
‘What is youre name?’ seyde kynge Arthure.
‘Sir, my name is Brewnor le Noyre, and within shorte space ye shall know that I am comyn of goode kynne.’
‘Hit may well be,’ seyde sir Kay the Senesciall, ‘but in mokkynge ye shall be called “La Cote Male Tayle”,’ that is as muche to sey ‘The Evyll-Shapyn Cote’.
‘Hit is a grete thynge that thou askyste,’ seyde the kynge. ‘But for what cause weryst thou that ryche cote?’
‘Hit is for som cause, sir,’ he answerde. ‘I had a fathir, a noble knyght, and as he rode an-h
untyng uppon a day hit happed hym to ley hym downe to slepe, and there cam a knyght that had bene longe his enemy. And whan he saw he was faste on slepe he all to-hew hym, and thys same cote had my fadir on that tyme. And that makyth this coote to sytte so evyll uppon me, for the strokes be on hit as I founde hit, and never shall hit be amendid for me. Thus, to have my fadyrs deth in remembraunce, I were this coote tyll I be revenged. And because ye ar called the moste nobelyst kynge of the worlde, I com to you to make me a knyght.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Lamerok and sir Gaheris, ‘hit were well done to make hym knyght, for hym besemyth well of persone and of countenaunce that he shall preve a good knyght and a myghty. For, sir, and ye be remembird, evyn suche one was sir Launcelot whan he cam fyrst into this courte, and full fewe of us knew from whens he cam. And now is he preved the man of moste worshyp in the worlde, and all your courte and Rounde Table is by sir Launcelot worshypped and amended, more than by ony knyght lyvynge.’
‘That is trouthe,’ seyde the kynge, ‘and to-morow at youre requeste I shall make hym knyght.’
So on the morne there was an harte founden, and thydir rode kyng Arthure wyth a company of his knyghtes to sle that herte. And this yonge man that sir Kay named La Cote Male Tayle was there leffte behynde wyth quene Gwenyvere.
And by a suddeyne adventure there was an horryble lyon kepte in a towre of stoon, and he brake lowse and cam hurlyng before the quene and her knyghtes. And whan the quene sawe the lyon she cryed oute and fledde and prayed hir knyghtes to rescow her. And there was none but twelve knyghtes that abode, and all the other fledde. Than seyde La Cote Male Tayle, ‘Now I se that all cowherde knyghtes be nat dede,’ and therewithall he drew his swerde and dressed hym before the lyon. And that lyon gaped wyde and cam uppon hym rawmpyng to have slayne hym, and he agayne smote hym in the myddys of the hede, that hit claff in sundir and so dayshed downe to the erthe.
And anone hit was tolde the quene how the yong man that sir Kay named by scorne La Cote Male Tayle had slayne the lyon, and anone with that the kynge com home and the quene tolde hym of that adventure. He was well pleased and seyde, ‘Uppon payne of myne hede, he shall preve a noble man and feythefull and trewe of his promyse!’ And so forthewithall the kynge made hym knyght.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 39
