‘And for suche thynges,’ seyde sir Trystrams, ‘I feare to drawe unto the courte of kynge Arthure. Sir, I woll that ye wete hit,’ seyde sir Trystram unto sir Gareth.
‘As for that, I blame you nat,’ seyde sir Gareth, ‘for well I undirstonde the vengeaunce of my brethirne, sir Gawayne, sir Aggravayne, sir Gaherys, and sir Mordred. But as for me,’ seyde sir Gareth, ‘I meddyll nat of their maters, and therefore there is none that lovyth me of them. And for cause that I undirstonde they be murtherars of good knyghtes I lefte there company, and wolde God I had bene besyde sir Gawayne whan that moste noble knyght sir Lamorake was slayne!’
‘Now, as Jesu be my helpe,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘hit is passyngly well sayde of you, for I had lever,’ sayde sir Trystrams, ‘than all the golde betwyxte this and Rome I had bene there.’
‘Iwysse,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘so wolde I, and yet had I never the gre at no justis nothir turnemente and that noble knyghte sir Lamorak had be there, but other on horsebak othir ellys on foote he put me ever to the wars. And that day that sir Lamorak was slayne he ded the moste dedis of armys that ever I saw knyght do in my lyeff, and whan he was gyvyn the gre be my lorde kynge Arthure, sir Gawayne and his three bretherne, sir Aggravayne, sir Gaherys, and sir Mordred, sette uppon sir Lamorak in a pryvy place, and there they slew his horse, and so they faught with hym on foote more than three owrys bothe byfore hym and behynde hym, and so sir Mordred gaff hym his dethis wounde byhynde hym at his bakke, and all tohewe hym: for one of his squyers tolde me that sawe hit.’
‘Now fye uppon treson!’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for hit sleyth myne harte to hyre this tale.’
‘And so hit dothe myne,’ seyde sir Gareth, ‘bretherne as they be myne.’
‘Now speke we of othir dedis,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘and let hym be, for his lyff ye may nat gete agayne.’
‘That is the more pité!’ seyde sir Dynadan. ‘For sir Gawayne and his bretherne, excepte you, sir Gareth, hatyth all good knyghtes of the Rounde Table for the moste party. For well I wote, as they myght, prevayly they hate my lorde sir Launcelot and all his kyn, and grete pryvay dispyte they have at hym. And sertaynly that is my lorde sir Launcelot well ware of, and that causyth hym the more to have the good knyghtes of his kynne aboute hym.’
‘Now, sir,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘let us leve of this mater and let [59] us se how we shall do at this turnemente. And, sir, by myne advyce, lat us four holde togydyrs ayenst all that woll com.’
‘Nat be my counceyle,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for I se by their pavylouns there woll be four hondred knyghtes. And doute ye nat,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘but there woll be many good knyghtes, and be a man never so valyaunte nother so bygge but he may be overmatched. And so have I seyne knyghtes done many, and whan they wente beste to have wonne worshyp they loste hit; for manhode is nat worthe but yf hit be medled with wysdome. And as for me,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘hit may happen I shall kepe myne owne hede as well as another.’
So thus they rode untyll they cam to Humbir banke where they harde a crye and a dolefull noyse. Than were they ware in the wynde where cam a ryche vessell heled over with rede sylke, and the vessell londed faste by them. Therewith sir Trystram alyght and his knyghtes, and so sir Trystram wente afore and entird into that vessell. And whan he cam in he saw a fayre bedde rychely coverde, and thereuppon lay a semely dede knyght all armed sauff the hede, and was all bloody wyth dedly woundys uppon hym, whych semed to be a passynge good knyght.
‘Jesu, how may this be,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘that this knyght is thus slayne?’
And anone sir Trystram was ware of a lettir in the dede knyghtes honde.
‘Now, maystir marynars,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘what meanyth this lettir?’
‘Sir,’ seyde they, ‘in that lettir shall ye hyre and knowe how he was slayne, and for what cause, and what was his name. But, sir,’ seyde the marynars, ‘wyte you well that no man shall take that lettir and rede hit but yf he be a good knyght, and that he woll faythfully promyse to revenge his dethe, and ellis shall there no knyght se that lettir opyn.’
‘And wyte you well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘that som of us may revenge his dethe as well as another; and yf hit so be as ye marynars sey, his deathe shall be revenged.’
And therewythall sir Trystram toke the lettir oute of the knyghtes honde, and than he opened hit and rad hit, and thus hit specifyed:
‘Harmaunce, kyng and lorde of the Rede Cité, I sende to all knyghtes arraunte, recommaundynge unto you, noble knyghtes of Arthurs courte, that I beseche them all amonge them to fynde one knyght that woll fyght for my sake with two bretherne that I brought up off nought, and felounsly and traytourly they slewe me. Wherefore I beseche one good knyght to revenge my dethe, and he that revengyth my dethe I woll that he have my Rede Cité and all my castels.’
‘Sir,’ seyde the marynars, ‘wyte you well, this knyght and kynge that hyre lyeth was a full worshypfull man and of grete proues, and full well he loved all maner of knyghtes arraunte.’
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘here is a pyteuous case, and full fayne I wolde take this entirpryse, but I have made suche a promyse that nedis I muste be at this grete justys and turnement, othir ellys I am shamed. For well I wote for my sake in aspeciall my lorde kynge Arthure made this justis and turnemente in this contrey, and well I wote that many worshypfull people woll be hyre at this turnemente for to se me; and therefore I feare to take this entirpryse uppon me, that I shall nat com agayne betyme to this justys.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘I pray you gyff me this entirpryse, and ye shall se me enchyeve hit worshypfully, other ellys I shall dye in this quarell.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘and this entirpryse I gyff hit you, wyth this, that ye be with me at this turnemente whyche shall be as this day sevennyght.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘I promyse you I shall be wyth you by that day, and I be unslayne and unmaymed.’
So departed sir Trystram, sir Gareth, and sir Dynadan, and so leffte sir Palomydes in the vessell. And so sir Trystram behylde the marynars how they sayled overlonge Humbir. And whan sir Palomydes was oute of there syght they toke their horsys and loked aboute them, and than were they ware of a knyght that cam rydynge agaynste them unarmed, and nothynge but a swerde aboute hym. And whan he cam nyghe, this knyght salewed them and they hym agayne.
‘Now, fayre knyghtes,’ seyde that knyght, ‘I pray you, insomuche as ye be knyghtes arraunte, that ye woll com and se my castall and take suche as ye fynde there; I pray you hertely!’
‘Wyth a good wyll,’ seyde sir Trystram.
And so they rode with hym untyll his castell, and there they were brought into the halle whyche was well apparayled, and so they were there unarmed and sette at a borde. And whan this knyght sawe sir Trystram, anone he knew hym and wexed passynge pale and wrothe at sir Trystram. And whan sir Trystram sawe his oste make suche chere he mervayled and sayde, ‘Sir, myne oste, what chere make you?’
‘Wyte thou well,’ sayde he, ‘I fare muche the warre that I se the, for I know the for sir Trystram de Lyones. For thou slewyste my brother, and therefore I gyff the warnynge that I woll sle the and ever I may gete the at large!’
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I am never advysed that ever I slew ony brother of yourys, and yf ye say that I ded hit I woll make amendys unto my power.’
‘I woll no mendys have,’ seyde the knyght, ‘but kepe the frome me!’
So whan he hadde dyned sir Trystram asked his armys and departed. And so they rode on there wayes, and wythin a myle way sir Dynadan saw where cam a knyght armed and well horsed, wyth a whyghte shylde.
‘Sir Trystram,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘take kepe to youreselff, for I dare undirtake yondir commyth your oste that woll have ado wyth you.’
‘Lat hym com,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I shall abyde hym as I may.’
And whan the knyght cam nyghe to sir Trystram he cryed and bade hym abyde and kepe hym.
And anone they
hurteled togydyrs, but sir Trystram smote the other knyght so sore that he bare hym over his horse croupe. Than the knyght arose lyghtly and toke his horse agayne and rode fyersly to sir Trystram and smote hym twyse other thryse harde uppon the helme.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I pray you leve of and smyte me no more, for I wolde be lothe to deale with you and I myght chose, for I have of your mete and drynke in my body.’
And for all that he wolde nat leve. Than sir Trystram gaff hym suche a buffette uppon the helme that he felle up-so-downe frome his horse, that the bloode braste oute at the ventayles of his helme, and so he lay stylle lykly to be dede. Than sir Trystram sayde, ‘Me repentys of this buffette that I smote so sore, for as I suppose he is dede.’
And so they lefft hym and rode on their wayes. So whan they had ryddyn awhyle they sawe com rydynge agayenst them two full lyckely knyghtes, well armed and well horsed, and goodly servauntes aboute them. And that one knyght hyght sir Berraunt le Apres, and he was called the Kynge with the Hondred Knyghtes, and the other was sir Segwarydes, that were renomed two noble knyghtes.
So as they cam aythir by other, the kynge loked uppon sir TDynadanl, and at that tyme sir Dynadan had sir Trystrams helme uppon his shuldir, whyche helme the kynge had seyne tofore with the quene of North Galys, and that quene the kynge loved as peramour. And that helme the quene of Northe Galys gaff to La Beall Isode, and quene Isode gaff hit to sir Trystram.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Berraunte, ‘where had ye that helme?’
‘What wolde ye?’ seyde sir Dynadan.
‘For I woll have ado wyth you,’ seyde the kynge, ‘for the love of her that ought this helme. And therefore kepe you!’
So they cam togydir wyth all there myghtes of their horsis. And there the Kynge with the Hondred Knyghtes smote downe sir Dynadan and his horse, and than he commaunded his servaunte to take that helme off and kepe hit. So the varlet wente to unbuckyll his helme.
‘What wolt thou do?’ seyde sir Trystram. ‘Leve that helme!’
‘To what entente,’ seyde the kynge, ‘wyll ye meddyll with that helme?’
‘Wyte you well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘that helme shall nat departe fro me tyll hit be derrer bought.’
‘Than make you redy!’ seyde sir Berraunte unto sir Trystram.
So they hurteled togydyrs, and there sir Trystram smote hym downe over his horse tayle; and than the kynge arose lyghtly and gate his horse agayne, and than he strake fyersly at sir Trystram many grete strokys. And than he gaff sir Berraunte such a buffette uppon the helme that he felle downe over his horse sore astonyed.
‘Lo!’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘that helme is unhappy to us twayne, for I had a falle for hit, and now, sir kynge, have ye another falle.’
Than sir Segwarydes asked, ‘Who shall juste wyth me?’
‘I pray you,’ seyde sir Gareth unto sir Dynadan, ‘let me have this justys.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘I pray you hertely take hit as for me!’
‘That is no reson,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for this justys shulde have bene youres.’
‘At a worde,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘I woll nat thereof.’
Than sir Gareth dressed hym unto sir Segwarydes, and there sir Segwarydes smote sir Gareth and his horse to the erthe.
‘Now,’ seyde sir Tristram unto sir Dynadan, ‘juste ye with yondir knyght.’
‘I woll nat thereof,’ seyde sir Dynadan.
‘Than woll I,’ seyde sir Trystram.
And than sir Trystram ranne unto hym and gaff hym a falle, and so they leffte hem on foote, and sir Trystram rode unto Joyus Garde. And there sir Gareth wolde nat of his curtesy have gone into his castell, but sir Trystram wolde nat suffir hym to departe, and so they alyght and unarmed them and had grete chere. But whan sir Dynadan cam afore La Beall Isode he cursed her that ever he bare sir Trystrams helme, and there he tolde her how sir Trystram had mocked hym. Than there was lawghynge and japynge at sir Dynadan, that they wyste nat what to do wyth hym.
XI. THE RED CITY
[61] Now woll we leve them myrry wythin Joyus Garde and speke we of sir Palomydes, the whyche sayled evyn-longis Humbir untyll that he came unto the see costys, and thereby was a fayre castell. And at that tyme hit was erly in the mornynge, afore day. Than the marynars wente unto sir Palomydes that slepte faste.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde the marynars, ‘ye must aryse, for here is a castell that ye muste go into.’
‘I assente me,’ seyde sir Palomydes.
And therewithall he aryved, and than he blew his horne that the marynars had yevyn hym. And whan they in the castell harde that horne they put oute many knyghtes; and there they stood uppon the wallys and sayde with one voyse, ‘Wellcom be ye to this castell!’
And than hit waxed clyere day, and sir Palomydes entyrde into the castell. And within a whyle he was served with many dyverse metys. Than sir Palomydes harde aboute hym muche wepyng and grete dole.
‘What may this meane?’ seyde sir Palomydes. ‘For I love nat to hyre suche a sorowfull noyse, and therefore I wolde knowe what hit meaned.’
Than there cam a knyght afore hym, his name was sir Ebell, that seyde thus:
‘Wyte you well, sir knyght, this dole and sorow is made here every day, and for this cause. We had a kynge that hyght Harmaunce, and he was kynge of the Rede Cité, and this kynge that was oure lorde was a noble knyght, layrge and lyberall of his expence. And in all the worlde he loved nothynge so muche as he ded arraunte knyghtes of kynge Arthurs courte, and all justynge, huntynge, and all maner of knyghtly gamys; for so good a kynge and knyght had never the rewle of poore peple. And bycause of his goodnes and jantyll demeanys we bemoone hym, and ever shall. And all kyngis and astatys may beware by oure lorde: for he was destroyed in his owne defaute; for had he cheryshed his owne bloode, he had bene a lyvis kynge and lyved with grete ryches and reste; but all astatys may beware by owre kynge. But alas,’ seyde sir Ebell, ‘that ever we sholde gyff all other warnynge by his dethe!’
‘Telle me,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘how and in what maner was your lorde slayne, and by whom.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Ebell, ‘oure kynge brought up of chyldir two men that now ar perelous knyghtes, and thes two knyghtes oure kynge had them so in favour that he loved no man nother trusted no man of his owne bloode, nother none other that was aboute hym. And by thes two knyghtes oure kynge was governed, and so they ruled hym peasably and his londys, and never wolde they suffir none of his bloode to have no rule with oure kynge. And also he was so fre and so jeantyll, and they so false and so dysseyvable, that they ruled hym peasabely. And that aspyed the lordis of oure kynges bloode, and departed frome hym unto their owne lyeffloode.
‘And whan thos traytours undirstood that they had dryvyn all the lordis of his bloode frome hym, than were they nat pleased wyth suche rewle, but ever thought to have more. And as ever hit is an olde sawe, “Gyeff a chorle rule and thereby he woll nat be suffysed”, for whatsomever he be that is rewled by a vylayne borne, and the lorde of the soyle be a jantylman born, that same vylayne shall destroy all the jeauntylmen aboute hym. Therefore all the astatys and lordys, of what astate ye be, loke ye beware whom ye take aboute you. And therefore, sir, and ye be a knyght of kynge Arthurs courte remembir this tale, for this is the ende and conclusyon:
‘My lorde and kynge rode unto the foreyste hereby by the advyse of thes two traytoures, and there he chaced at the rede deare, armed at all peacis full lyke a good knyght. And so for labour he waxed drye, and than he alyght and dranke at a well. And whan he was alyght, by the assente of thes two traytoures, the tone whyche hyght Helyus he suddeynly smote oure kynge thorow the body wyth a speare. And so they leffte hym there; and whan they were departed, than by fortune I cam to the welle and founde my lorde and kynge wounded to the deth. And whan I harde his complaynte I lat brynge hym to the watirs syde, and in that same shyppe I put hym on lyve.
And whan my lorde kynge Harmaunce was in that vessell he requyred me for the trewe feythe I owed unto hym for t
o wryte a lettir in this maner:
‘ “Recommaunde me unto kynge Arthure and all his noble knyghtys arraunte, besechynge them all that, insomuche as I, kynge Harmaunce, kynge of the Rede Cité, thus I am slayne by felony and treson thorow two knyghtes of myne owne bryngynge up and of myne owne makynge, besechynge som worshypfull knyght to revenge my dethe, insomuch as I have bene ever to my power wellwyllynge unto kynge Arthurs courte. And who that woll adventure his lyff for my sake to revenge my deth and sle thes two traytoures in one batayle, I, kynge Harmaunce, kynge of the Red Cité, frely woll gyff hym all my londis and rentes that ever I welded in my lyeff.”
And this lettir,’ seyde sir Ebell, ‘I wrote be my lordis commaundemente, and than he resceayved his Creature. And whan he was dede, he commaunded me, or ever he were colde to put that lettir faste in his honde, and than he commaunded me to sende forthe that same vessell downe by Humbir streyme, and that I sholde gyeff thes marynars in commaundemente never to stynte tyll they cam unto Lonezep, where all the noble knyghtes shall assemble at this tyme: “And there shall som good knyght have pité of me and revenge my deathe, for there was never knyght nother lorde falselyar nothir traytourlyar slayne than I am hyere wounded unto my dethe.” Thus was the complaynte of oure kynge Harmaunce.
‘Now,’ seyde sir Ebell, ye knowe all how oure lorde was betrayed. And therefore we requyre you for Goddis sake have pité uppon his dethe, and worshypfully than may ye welde all his londis. For we all wyte well, and ye may sle the two traytours, the Rede Cité and all that be therein woll take you for their kyndely lorde.’
‘Truly,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘hit grevyth myne harte for to hyre you tell this dolefull tale, and to say the trouthe I saw that same lettir that ye speke of, and one of the beste knyghtes of the worlde rad that same lettir to me that ye speake of, and by his commaundemente I cam hydir to revenge your kynges deathe. And therefore have done and let me wyte where I shall fynde the traytoures, for I shall never be at ease in my harte tyll I be in handis wyth them.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 60
