Than ayther departed frome other, and sir Lamorake rode ayen thereas he leffte the two knyghtes, and than he founde them hydde in the leved woode.
‘Fye on you!’ seyde sir Lamerak, ‘false cowardis! That pité and shame hit ys that ony of you sholde take the hyghe Order of Knyghthode!’
So sir Lamerok departed fro them, and within a whyle he mette with sir Mellyagaunce. And than sir Lamorak asked hym why he loved quene Gwenyver as he ded, ‘for I was nat far frome you whan ye made youre complaynte by the chapell.’
‘Ded ye so?’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce. ‘Than woll I abyde by hit. I love quene Gwenyver!’
‘What woll ye with hit?’
‘I woll preve and make hit good that she ys the fayryste lady and moste of beauté in the worlde.’
‘As to that,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘I say nay thereto, for quene Morgause of Orkeney, modir unto sir Gawayne, for she ys the fayryst lady that beryth the lyff.’
‘That ys nat so,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘and that woll I preve with my hondis!’
‘Wylie ye so?’ seyde sir Lamorak. ‘And in a bettir quarell kepe I nat to fyght.’
So they departed ayther frome othir in grete wrathe, and than they com rydyng togydirs as hit had bene thundir, and aythir smote other so sore that their horsis felle backewarde to the erthe. And than they avoyded their horsys and dressed their shyldis and drew their swerdis, and than they hurteled togydirs as wylde borys, and thus they fought a grete whyle. For sir Mellyagaunce was a good man and of grete myght, but sir Lamorak was harde byg for hym and put hym allwayes abacke, but aythir had wounded othir sore.
And as they stood thus fyghtynge, by fortune com sir Launcelot and sir Bleoberys, and than sir Launcelot rode betwyxte them and asked them for what cause they fought so togydirs, ‘and ye ar bothe of the courte of kynge Arthure.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘I shall telle you for what cause we [14] do thys batayle. I praysed my lady, quene Gwenyvere, and seyde she was the fayryste lady of the worlde, and sir Lameroke seyde nay thereto, for he seyde quene Morgause of Orkeney was fayrar than she and more of beauté.’
‘A!’ seyde sir Launcelot, sir Lamorak, why sayst thou so? Hit ys nat thy parte to disprayse thy prynces that thou arte undir obeysaunce and we all.’ And therewithall sir Launcelot alyght on foote. ‘And therefore make the redy, for I woll preve uppon the that quene Guenever ys the fayryst lady and moste of bounté in the worlde.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘I am lothe to have ado with you in thys quarrell, for every man thynkith hys owne lady fayryste, and thoughe I prayse the lady that I love moste, ye sholde nat be wrothe.
For thoughe my lady quene Gwenyver be fayryst in youre eye, wyte you well quene Morgause of Orkeney ys fayryst in myne eye, and so every knyght thynkith his owne lady fayryste. And wyte you well, sir, ye ar the man in the worlde excepte sir Trystramys that I am moste lothyst to have ado withall, but and ye woll nedys have ado with me, I shall endure you as longe as I may.’
Than spake sir Bleoberys and seyde, ‘My lorde, sir Launcelot, I wyste you never so mysseadvysed as ye be at thys tyme, for sir Lamerok seyth to you but reson and knyghtly. For I warne you, I have a lady, and methynkith that she ys the fayryst lady of the worlde. Were thys a grete reson that ye sholde be wrothe with me for such langage? And well ye wote that sir Lamorak ys a noble knyght as I know ony lyvynge, and he hath oughte you and all us ever good wyll. Therefore I pray you, be fryndis!’
Than sir Launcelot seyde, ‘Sir, I pray you, forgyve me myne offence and evyll wyll, and if I was mysseadvysed I woll make amendis.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Lamerok, ‘the amendis ys sone made betwyxte you and me.’
And so sir Launcelot and sir Bleoberys departed, and sir Lamerok and sir Mellyagaunce toke their horsis and aythir departed frome othir.
And within a whyle cam kyng Arthure and mette with sir Lamorak and justed with hym, and there he smote downe sir Lamorak and wounded hym sore with a speare. And so he rode frome hym, wherefore sir Lamerok was wroth that he wolde nat fyght with hym on foote, howbehit that sir Lamerok knew nat kynge Arthure.
[15] Now levith of thys tale and spekith of sir Trystramys, that as he rode he mette with sir Kay the Senescyall, and there sir Kay asked sir Trystramys of what contrey he was. He answerde and seyde he was of the contrey of Cornwaile.
‘Hit may well be,’ seyde sir Kay, ‘for as yet harde I never that evir good knyght com oute of Cornwayle.’
‘That ys well spokyn,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘but and hit please you to telle me your name, I pray you.’
‘Sir, wyte you well that my name ys sir Kay the Senesciall.’
‘A, sir, ys that youre name?’ seyde sir Trystramys. ‘Now wyte you well that ye ar named the shamefullyst knyght of your tunge that now ys lyvynge. Howbehit ye ar called a good knyght, but ye ar called unfortunate and passyng overthwart of youre tunge.’
And thus they rode togydirs tylle they cam to a brydge, and there was a knyght that wolde nat latte them passe tylle one of them justed with hym. And so that knyght justed with sir Kay, and there he gaff sir Kay a falle, and hys name was sir Tor, sir Lamerokes halff-brothir.
And than they two rode to their lodgynge, and there they founde sir Braundiles, and sir Tor cam thydir anone aftir. And as they sate at hir souper, thes four knyghtes, three of them spake all the shame by Cornysh knyghtes that coude be seyde. Sir Trystramys harde all that they seyde, and seyde but lytyll, but he thought the more. But at that tyme he discoverde nat hys name.
And uppon the morne sir Trystrams toke hys horse and abode them uppon their way. And there sir Brandiles profirde to juste with sir Trystram, and there sir Trystram smote hym downe, horse and all, to the erthe. Than sir Tor le Fyze de Vaysshoure, he encountird with sir Trystram, and there sir Trystram smote hym downe. And than he rode hys way and sir Kay folowed hym, but he wolde none of hys felyship. Than sir Brandiles com to sir Kay and seyde, ‘I wolde wyte fayne what ys that knyghtes name.’
‘Com one with me,’ seyde sir Kay, ‘and we shall pray hym to telle us hys name.’
So they rode togydirs tyll they cam nyghe hym, and than they were ware where he sate by a welle and had put of hys helme to drynke at the welle. And whan that he saw them com he laced on hys helme lyghtly and toke hys horse to profir hem to juste.
‘Nay!’ seyde sir Brandyles, ‘we justed late inowe with you, but we com nat in that entente, but we requyre you of knyghthod to telle us youre name.’
‘My fayre lordys, sitthyn that hit ys youre desyre, and now for to please you ye shall wyte that my name ys sir Trystram de Lyones, nevew unto kyng Mark of Cornwayle.’
‘In goode tyme,’ seyde sir Brandiles, ‘and well be ye foundyn! And wyte you well that we be ryght glad that we have founde you, and we be of a felyship that wolde be ryght glad of youre company, for ye ar the knyght in the worlde that the felyship of the Rounde Table desyryth moste to have the company off.’
‘God thank them all,’ seyde sir Trystram, of hir grete goodnes, but as yet I fele well that I am not able to be of their felyship, for I was never yet of such dedys of worthynes to be in the companye of such a felyship.’
‘A,’ seyde sir Kay, and ye be sir Trystrams, ye ar the man called now moste of proues excepte sir Launcelot, for he beryth nat the lyff crystynde nother hethynde that canne fynde such anothir knyght, to speke of hys proues and of his hondis and hys trouthe withall. For yet cowde there never creature sey hym dishonoure and make hit good.’
Thus they talked a grete whyle, and than they departed ayther frome other such wayes as hem semed beste.
Now shall ye here what was the cause that kyng Arthure cam into the Foreyste Perelous, that was in North Walis, by the meanys of a lady. Her name was Aunowre, and thys lady cam to kynge Arthure at Cardyeff, and she by fayre promyses and fayre behestis made kynge Arthure to ryde with her into that foreyste Perelous. And she was a grete sorseres, and many dayes she had loved kynge Arthure, and bycause she wolde have had hym to lye by her she cam in
to that contrey.
So whan the kynge was gone with hir, many of hys knyghtes folowed aftir hym whan they myste hym, as sir Launcelot, sir Brandiles, and many other. And whan she had brought hym to hir towre she desired hym to ly by her, and than the kynge remembird hym of hys lady and wolde nat for no crauffte that she cowde do. Than every day she wolde make hym ryde into that foreyste with hyr owne knyghtes to the entente to have had hym slayne; for whan thys lady Aunowre saw that she myght nat have hym at her wylle, than she laboured by false meanys to have destroyed kynge Arthure and slayne hym.
Than the Lady of the Lake, that was allwayes fryndely to kynge Arthure, she undirstood by hir suttyle craufftes that kynge Arthure was lykely to be destroyed. And therefore thys Lady of the Lake, that hyght Nynyve, she cam into that foreyste to seke aftir sir Launcelot du Lake othir ellis sir Trystramys for to helpe kynge Arthur e, for as that same day she knew well that kynge Arthur sholde be slayne onles that he had helpe of one of these two knyghtes.
And thus as she rode uppon a downe she mette with sir Trystram, and anone as she saw hym she knew hym and seyde, ‘A, my lorde, sir Trystram, well be ye mette, and blyssed be the tyme that I have mette with you, for the same day and within thys two owrys shall be done the dolefullyst dede that ever was done in thys londe.’
‘A, fayre damesell,’ seyde sir Trystramys, may I amende hit?’
‘Yee, sir, therefore comyth on with me in all the haste ye may, for ye shall se the moste worshipfullyst knyght in the worlde harde bestadde.’
Than seyde sir Trystramys, ‘I am redy lo to helpe you and suche a noble man as ye sey he ys.’
‘Sir, hit ys nother better ne worse,’ seyde the damesell, ‘but the noble kynge Arthure hymselff.’
‘God deffende,’ seyde sir Trystramys, ‘that ever he shulde be in such distresse!’
Than they rode togydirs a grete pace untyll they cam to a lityll turret in a castell, and undirnethe that castel they saw a knyght stondynge uppon foote fyghtyng with two knyghtes. And so sir Trystramys behelde them. And at the laste thes two knyghtes smote downe that one knyght, and one of hem unlaced hys helme, and the lady Aunowre gate kynge Arthurs swerde in her honde to have strykyn of his hede.
And therewithall com sir Trystramys as faste as he myght, and seyyng, ‘Traytoures! Leve that knyght anone!’ And so sir Trystrams smote the tone of hem thorow the body that he felle dede, and than he russhed to the othir and smote hys backe in sundir.
And in the meanewhyle the Lady of the Lake cryed to kyng Arthur, ‘Lat nat that false lady ascape!’
Than kynge Arthur overtoke hir and with the same swerd he smote of her hede. And the Lady of the Lake toke up hir hede and hynge hit at hir sadill-bowe by the heyre.
And than sir Trystramys horsed the kynge agayne and rode forth with hym, but he charged the Lady of the Lake nat to discover hys name as at that tyme. So whan the kynge was horsed he thanked hartely sir Trystramys and desired to wyte hys name, but he wolde nat telle hym none other but that he was a poure knyght aventures. And so he bare kynge Arthure felyship tylle he mette with som of hys knyghtes.
And so within a whyle he mette with sir Ector de Marys, and he knew nat kynge Arthur nother yet sir Trystram, and he desired to juste with one of them. Than sir Trystrames rode unto sir Ector and smote hym frome hys horse, and whan he had done so he cam agayne to the kynge and seyde, ‘My lorde, yondir ys one of youre knyghtes, he may beare you felyshyp. And anothir day, by that dede that I have done for you, I truste to God ye shall undirstonde that I wolde do you servyse.’
‘Alas!’ seyde kynge Arthure, ‘lat me wyte what ye ar.’
‘Nat at thys tyme,’ seyde sir Trystramys. So he departed and leffte kynge Arthur and sir Ector togydirs.
[17] And than at a day sette sir Trystrams and sir Lamerok mette at a welle, and than they toke sir Keyhydyns at the fosters house, and so they rode with hym to the ship where they leffte dame Brangwayne and Governayle. And so they sayled into Cornuayle all hole togydirs.
And by assente and by enformacion of dame Brangwayne, whan they were londed they rode unto sir Dynas the Senesciall, a trusty frynde of sir Trystramys, and so sir Dynas and dame Brangwayne rode to the courte of kynge Marke and tolde the quene La Beall Isode that sir Trystramys was nyghe hir in the contrey. Than for verry pure joy La Beall Isode sowned, and whan she myght speke she seyde, ‘Jantyll senesciall, helpe that I myght speke with hym, othir my harte woll braste!’
Than sir Dynas and dame Brangwayne brought sir Trystram and sir Kehydyns prevaly into the courte, unto the chambir whereas La Beall Isode assygned them. And to telle the joyes that were betwyxte La Beall Isode and sir Trystramys, there ys no maker can make hit, nothir no harte can thynke hit, nother no penne can wryte hit, nother no mowth can speke hit.
And as the Freynshe booke makith mension, at the firste tyme that ever sir Kayhidins saw La Beall Isode he was so enamered uppon hir that for very pure love he myght never withdraw hit. And at the laste, as ye shall hyre or the booke be ended, sir Keyhydyns dyed for the love of Isode.
And than pryvaly he wrote unto her lettirs and baladis of the moste goodlyeste that were used in the dayes. And whan La Beall Isode undirstoode hys lettirs she had pité of hys complaynte, and unavised she wrote another lettir to comforte hym withall.
And sir Trystram was all thys whyle in a turret, at the commaundemente of La Beall Isode, and whan she myght she yeode and come to sir Trystram.
So on a day kynge Marke played at the chesse undir a chambir wyndowe, and at that tyme sir Trystramys and sir Keyhydyns were within the chambir over kynge Marke. And as hit myshapped, sir Trystrams founde the lettir that sir Kayhydyns sente unto La Beall Isode; also he had founde the lettir that she had sente unto sir Keyhydyns. And at the same tyme La Beall Isode was in the same chambir.
Than sir Trystramys com unto La Beall Isode and seyde, ‘Madame, here ys a lettir that was sente unto you, and here ys the lettir that ye sente unto hym that sente you that lettir. Alas! madame, the good love that I have lovyd you, and many londis and grete rychesse have I forsakyn for youre love! And now ye ar a traytouras unto me, whych dothe me grete payne.
‘But as for the, sir Keyhydyns, I brought the oute of Bretayne into thys contrey, and thy fadir, kynge Howell, I wan hys londis. Howbehit I wedded thy syster, Isode le Blaunche Maynes, for the goodnes she ded unto me, and yet, as I am a trew knyght, she ys a clene maydyn for me. But wyte thou well, sir Keyhydyns, for thys falshed and treson thou hast done unto me, I woll revenge hit uppon the!’ And therewithall sir Trystram drew his swerde and seyde, ‘Sir Keyhidyns, kepe the!’ And than La Beall Isode sowned to the erthe.
And whan sir Keyhydyns saw sir Trystrams com uppon hym, he saw none other boote but lepte oute at a bay-wyndow evyn over the hede where sate kynge Marke playyng at the chesse. And whan the kynge saw one com hurlyng over hys hede, he seyde, ‘Felow, what arte thou, and what ys the cause thou lepe oute at that wyndow?’
‘My lorde kynge,’ seyde sir Keyhydyns, ‘hit fortuned me that I was aslepe in the wyndow abovyn youre hede, and as I slepte I slumbirde, and so I felle downe.’
Thus sir Keyhydyns excused hym, and sir Trystram drad hym leste [18] he were discoverde unto the kyng that he was there. Wherefore he drew hym to the strength of the towre and armed hym in such armour as he had for to fyght with hem that wolde withstonde hym.
And so whan sir Trystram saw that there was no resistence agaynste hym he sente Governayle for hys horse and hys speare, and knyghtly he rode forth oute of the castell opynly that was callyd the Castell of Tyntagyll. And evyn at the gate he mette with sir Gyngalyn, Gawaynes sonne, and anone sir Gyngalyn put hys speare in the reste and ran uppon sir Trystram and brake hys speare. And sir Trystram at that tyme had but a swerde, and gaff hym such a buffet uppon the helme that he fylle downe frome hys sadill, and hys swerde slode adowne and carved asundir his horse necke. And so sir Trystramys rode hys way into the foreyste.
And all thys doynge saw kynge Marke, and than he sente a squyer unto the hurte knygh
t and commaunded hym to com to hym, and so he ded. And whan kynge Marke wyst that hyt was sir Gyngalyn he wellcommyd hym and gaff hym anothir horse, and so he asked hym what knyght was that encountirde with hym.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Gyngalyn, ‘I wote nat what knyght hit was, but well I wote he syeth and makith grete dole.’
Than sir Trystrames within a whyle mette with a knyght of hys owne — hys name was sir Fergus — and whan he had mette with hym he made such sorow that he felle downe of hys horse in a sowne, and in such sorow he was inne three dayes and three nyghtes.
Than at the laste sir Trystramys sente unto the courte by sir Fergus for to spurre what tydyngis. And so as he rode by the way he mette with a damesell that cam frome sir Palomydes to know and seke how sir Trystramys ded. Than sir Fergus tolde her how he was allmoste oute of hys mynde.
‘Alas!’ seyde the damesell, ‘where shall I fynde hym?’
‘In suche a place,’ seyde sir Fergus.
Than sir Fergus founde quene Isode syke in hir bedde, makynge the grettyste dole that ever ony erthly woman made.
And whan the damesell founde sir Trystramys she made grete dole, bycause she myght nat amende hym; for the more she made of hym, the more was hys payne. And at the laste sir Trystram toke hys horse and rode away frome her. And than was hit three dayes or that she coude fynde hym, and than she broute hym mete and drynke, but he wolde none.
And than another tyme sir Trystramys ascaped away frome the damesell, and hit happened hym to ryde by the same castell where sir Palomydes and sir Trystramys dyd batayle, whan La Beall Isode departed them. And there by fortune the damesell mette with sir Trystramys ayen, makynge the grettiste dole that ever erthely creature made, and she yode to the lady of that castell and tolde of the myssadventure of sir Trystrames.
‘Alas!’ seyde the lady of that castell, ‘where ys my lorde sir Trystramys?’
‘Ryght here by youre castell,’ seyde the damesell.
‘In good tyme,’ seyde the lady, ‘ys he so nyghe me: he shall have mete and drynke of the beste. And an harpe I have of hys whereuppon he taught me, for of goodly harpyng he beryth the pryse of the worlde.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 42
