‘Truly,’ seyde the quene, ‘ye say trouthe, but hartely I thanke you,’ seyde the quene. ‘But ye muste com in with me pesyblé, for all thynge ys put in myne honde, and all that ys amysse shall be amended, for the knyght full sore repentys hym of thys mysadventure that ys befallyn hym.’
‘Madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘syth hit ys so that ye be accorded with hym, as for me I may nat agaynesay hit, howbehit sir Mellyagaunte hath done full shamefully to me and cowardly. And, madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘and I had wyste that ye wolde have bene so lyghtly accorded with hym I wolde nat a made such haste unto you.’
‘Why say ye so?’ seyde the quene. ‘Do ye forthynke youreselff of youre good dedis? Wyte you well,’ seyde the quene, ‘I accorded never with hym for no favoure nor love that I had unto hym, but of every shamefull noyse of wysedom to lay adoune.’
‘Madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘ye undirstonde full well I was never wyllynge nor glad of shamefull sclaundir nor noyse. And there ys nother kynge, quene ne knyght that beryth the lyffe, excepte my lorde kynge Arthur and you, madame, that shulde lette me but I shulde make sir Mellyagaunte harte full colde or ever I departed frome hense.’
‘That wote I well,’ seyde the quene, ‘but what woll ye more? Ye shall have all thynge ruled as ye lyste to have hit.’
‘Madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘so ye be pleased! As for my parte ye shall sone please me.’
Ryght so the quene toke sir Launcelot by the bare honde, for he had put of hys gauntelot, and so she wente wyth hym tyll her chambir, and than she commanded hym to be unarmed.
And than sir Launcelot asked the quene where were hir ten knyghtes that were wounded with her. Than she shewed them unto hym, and there they made grete joy of the commyng of sir Launcelot, and he made grete sorow of their hurtis. And there sir Launcelot tolde them how cowardly and traytourly he sette archers to sle hys horse, and how he was fayne to put hymselff in a charyotte. And thus they complayned everyche to other, and full fayne they wolde have ben revenged, but they kepte the pees bycause of the quene.
Than, as the Freynsh booke saythe, sir Launcelot was called many dayes aftyr ‘le Shyvalere de Charyotte’, and so he ded many dedys and grete adventures.
AND SO WE LEVE OF HERE OF LA SHYVALERE LE CHARYOTE, AND TURNE WE TO THYS TALE.
So sir Launcelot had grete chere with the quene. And than he made a promyse with the quene that the same nyght he sholde com to a wyndow outewarde towarde a gardyne, and that wyndow was barred with iron, and there sir Launcelot promysed to mete her whan all folkes were on slepe.
So than cam sir Lavayne dryvynge to the gatis, seyyng, ‘Where ys my lorde sir Launcelot?’ And anone he was sente fore, and whan sir Lavayne saw sir Launcelot, he seyde, ‘A, my lorde! I founde howe ye were harde bestadde, for I have founde your hors that ys slayne with arowys.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I praye you, sir Lavayne, speke ye of othir maters and lat thys passe, and ryght hit anothir tyme and we may.’
[6] Than the knyghtes that were hurt were serched, and soffte salves were layde to their woundis, and so hit passed on tyll souper-tyme. And all the chere that myght be made them there was done unto the quene and all her knyghtes. And whan season was they wente unto their chambirs, but in no wyse the quene wolde nat suffir her wounded knyghtes to be fro her, but that they were layde inwyth draughtes by hir chambir, uppon beddis and paylattes, that she myght herselff se unto them that they wanted nothynge.
So whan sir Launcelot was in hys chambir whych was assygned unto hym, he called unto hym sir Lavayne and tolde hym that nyght he must speke with hys lady, quene Gwenyver.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Lavayne, ‘let me go with you, and hyt please you, for I drede me sore of the treson of sir Mellyagaunte.’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I thanke you, but I woll have nobody wyth me.’
Than sir Launcelot toke hys swerde in hys honde and prevaly wente to the place where he had spyed a ladder toforehande, and that he toke undir hys arme, and bare hit thorow the gardyne and sette hit up to the wyndow. And anone the quene was there redy to mete hym.
And than they made their complayntes to othir of many dyverce thyngis, and than sir Launcelot wysshed that he myght have comyn in to her.
‘Wyte you well,’ seyde the quene, ‘I wolde as fayne as ye that ye myght com in to me.’
Wolde ye so, madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘wyth youre harte that I were with you?’
‘Ye, truly,’ seyde the quene.
‘Than shall I prove my myght,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for youre love.’
And than he sette hys hondis uppon the barrys of iron and pulled at them with suche a myght that he braste hem clene oute of the stone wallys. And therewithall one of the barres of iron kutte the brawne of hys hondys thorowoute to the bone. And than he lepe into the chambir to the quene.
‘Make ye no noyse,’ seyde the quene, ‘for my wounded knyghtes lye here fast by me.’
So, to passe uppon thys tale, sir Launcelot wente to bedde with the quene and toke no force of hys hurte honde, but toke hys pleasaunce and hys lykynge untyll hit was the dawnyng of the day; for wyte you well he slept nat, but wacched. And whan he saw hys tyme that he myght tary no lenger, he toke hys leve and departed at the wyndowe, and put hit togydir as well as he myght agayne, and so departed untyll hys owne chambir. And there he tolde sir Lavayne how that he was hurte. Than sir Lavayne dressed hys honde and staunched hit and put uppon hit a glove, that hit sholde nat be aspyed. And so they lay longe a-bed in the mornynge tylle hit was nine of the clok.
Than sir Mellyagaunte wente to the quenys chambir and founde her ladyes there redy clothed.
‘A! Jesu mercy,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunte, ‘what ayles you, madame, that ye slepe thys longe?’
And therewithall he opened the curtayn for to beholde her. And than was he ware where she lay, and all the hede-sheete, pylow, and over-shyte was all bebled of the bloode of sir Launcelot and of hys hurte honde. Whan sir Mellyagaunt aspyed that blood, than he demed in her that she was false to the kynge and that som of the wounded knyghtes had lyene by her all that nyght.
‘A ha, madame!’ seyde sir Mellyagaunte, ‘now I have founde you a false traytouras unto my lorde Arthur, for now I preve well hit was nat for nought that ye layde thes wounded knyghtis within the bondys of youre chambir. Therefore I calle you of tresoun afore my lorde kynge Arthure. And now I have proved you, madame, wyth a shamefull dede; and that they bene all false, or som of them, I woll make hit good, for a wounded knyght thys nyght hath layne by you.’
‘That ys false,’ seyde the quene, ‘that I woll report me unto them.’ But whan the ten knyghtes harde sir Mellyagaunteys wordys, than they spake all at onys and seyd, ‘Sir Mellyagaunte, thou falsely belyest my lady, the quene, and that we woll make good uppon the, any of us. Now chose whych thou lyste of us, whan we ar hole of the woundes thou gavyst us.”Ye shall nat! Away with youre proude langayge! For here ye may all se that a wounded knyght thys nyght hath layne by the quene.’
Than they all loked and were sore ashamed whan they saw that bloode. And wyte you well sir Mellyagaunte was passyng glad that he had the quene at suche avauntayge, for he demed by that to hyde hys owne treson. And so in thys rumour com in sir Launcelot and fownde them at a grete affray.
[7] ‘What aray ys thys?’ seyde sir Launcelot.
Than sir Mellyagaunce tolde hem what he had founde, and so he shewed hym the quenys bed.
‘Now truly,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘ye ded nat youre parte nor knyghtly, to touche a quenys bede whyle hit was drawyn and she lyyng therein. And I daresay,’ seyde syr Launcelot, ‘my lorde kynge Arthur hymselff wolde nat have displayed hir curtaynes, and she beyng within her bed, onles that hit had pleased hym to have layne hym downe by her. And therefore, sir Mellyagaunce, ye have done unworshypfully and shamefully to youreselff.’
‘Sir, I wote nat what ye meane,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘but well I am sure there hath one of hir hurte knyghtes layne with her thys n
yght. And that woll I prove with myne hondys, that she ys a tratoures unto my lorde kynge Arthur.’
‘Beware what ye do,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for an ye say so and wyll preve hit, hit woll be takyn at youre handys.’
‘My lorde sir Launcelot,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘I rede you beware what ye do; for thoughe ye ar never so good a knyght, as I wote well ye ar renowned the beste knyght of the worlde, yet shulde ye be avysed to do batayle in a wronge quarell, for God woll have a stroke in every batayle.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘God ys to be drad! But as to that I say nay playnly, that thys nyght there lay none of thes ten knyghtes wounded with my lady, quene Gwenyver, and that woll I prove with myne hondys that ye say untrewly in that. Now, what sey ye?’ seyde sir Launcelot.
‘Thus I say,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘here ys my glove that she ys a traytoures unto my lorde kynge Arthur, and that thys nyght one of the wounded knyghtes lay wyth her.’
‘Well, sir, and I resceyve youre glove,’ seyde sir Launcelot.
And anone they were sealed with their synattes, and delyverde unto the ten knyghtes.
‘At what day shall we do batayle togydirs?’ seyde sir Launcelot. ‘Thys day eyght dayes,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘in the fylde besydys Westemynster.’
‘I am agreed,’ seyde sir Launcelot.
‘But now’, seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘sytthyn hit ys so that we muste nedys fyght togydirs, I pray you as ye betthe a noble knyght, awayte me wyth no treson nother no vylany the meanewhyle, nother none for you.’
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ye shall ryght well wyte that I was never of no such condysions. For I reporte me to all knyghtes that ever have knowyn me, I fared never wyth no treson, nother I loved never the felyshyp of hym that fared with treson.’ Than lat us go unto dyner,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, and aftir dyner the quene and ye may ryde all unto Westemynster.’
‘I woll well,’ seyde sir Launcelot.
Than sir Mellyagaunce seyde unto sir Launcelot, ‘Sir, pleasyth you to se esturys of thys castell?’
‘With a good wyll,’ seyde sir Launcelot.
And than they wente togydir frome chambir to chambir, for sir Launcelot drad no perellis: for ever a man of worshyp and of proues dredis but lytyll of perels, for they wene that every man be as they bene. But ever he that faryth with treson puttyth oftyn a trew man in grete daungere. And so hit befelle uppon sir Launcelot that no perell dred: as he wente with sir Mellyagaunce he trade on a trappe, and the burde rolled, and there sir Launcelot felle downe more than ten fadom into a cave full off strawe.
And than sir Mellyagaunce departed and made no fare, no more than he that wyste nat where he was. And whan sir Launcelot was thus myssed they mervayled where he was becomyn, and than the quene and many of them demed that he was departed, as he was wonte to do, suddaynly. For sir Mellyagaunce made suddaynly to put on syde sir Lavaynes horse, that they myght all undirstonde that sir Launcelot were departed suddaynly.
So than hit passed on tyll afftir dyner, and than sir Lavayne wolde nat stynte untyll he had horse-lytters for the wounded knyghtes, that they myght be caryed in them. And so with the quene bothe ladyes and jantylwomen and other rode unto Westemynster, and there the knyghtes tolde how sir Mellyagaunce had appeled the quene of hyghe treson, and how sir Launcelot resceyved the glove of hym, ‘and thys day eyght dayes they shall do batayle before you.’
‘Be my hede,’ seyde kynge Arthure, ‘I am aferde sir Mellyagaunce hath charged hymselff with a grete charge. But where is sir Launcelot?’ seyde the kynge.
‘Sir, we wote nat where he ys, but we deme he ys ryddyn to som adventure, as he ys offtyntymes wonte to do, for he had sir Lavaynes horse.’
‘Lette hym be,’ seyde the kynge, ‘for he woll be founden but if he be trapped wyth som treson.’
[8] Thus leve we sir Launcelot liyng within that cave in grete payne. And every day there cam a lady and brought hys mete and hys drynke, and wowed hym every day to have layne by her, and ever sir Launcelot seyde her nay. Than seyde she, ‘Sir, ye ar nat wyse, for ye may never oute of this preson but if ye have my helpe. And also youre lady, quene Gwenyver, shall be brente in youre defaute onles that ye be there at the day of batayle.”God deffende,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that she shulde be brente in my defaught! And if hit be so,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that I may nat be there, hit shall be well undirstonde, bothe at the kynge and the quene and with all men of worship, that I am dede, syke, othir in preson. For all men that know me woll say for me that I am in som evyll case and I be nat that day there. And thus well I undirstonde that there ys som good knyght, othir of my blood other som other that lovys me, that woll take my quarell in honde. And therefore,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘wyte you well, ye shall nat feare me, and if there were no me women in all thys londe but ye, yet shall nat I have ado with you.’
‘Than ar ye shamed,’ seyde the lady, ‘and destroyed for ever.’
‘As for worldis shame, now Jesu deffende me! And as for my distresse, hit ys welcom, whatsomever hit be that God sendys me.’
So she cam to hym agayne the same day that the batayle shulde be and seyde, ‘Sir Launcelot, bethynke you, for ye ar to hard-harted. And therefore, and ye wolde but onys kysse me, I shulde delyver you and your armoure, and the beste horse that was within sir Mellyagaunce stable.’
‘As for to kysse you,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I may do that and lese no worshyp. And wyte you well, and I undirstood there were ony disworshyp for to kysse you, I wold nat do hit.’
And than he kyssed hir. And anone she gate hym up untyll hys armour, and whan he was armed she brought hym tylle a stable where stoode twelve good coursers, and bade hym to chose of the beste. Than sir Launcelot loked uppon a whyght courser and that lyked hym beste, and anone he commaunded hym to be sadeled with the beste sadyll of warre, and so hit was done. Than he gate hys owne speare in hys honde and hys swerde by hys syde, and than he commaunded the lady unto God and sayde, ‘Lady, for thys dayes dede I shall do you servyse, if ever hit lye in my power.’
Now leve we here sir Launcelot, all that ever he myght walop, [9] and speke we of quene Gwenyver that was brought tyll a fyre to be brente; for sir Mellyagaunce was sure, hym thought, that sir Launcelotte sholde nat be at that batayle, and therefore he ever cryed uppon sir Arthur to do hym justyse othir ellys brynge forth sir Launcelot.
Than was the kynge and all the courte full sore abaysshed and shamed that the quene shulde have be brente in the defaute of sir Launcelot.
‘My lorde, kynge Arthur,’ seyde sir Lavayne, ye may undirstonde that hit ys nat well with my lorde sir Launcelot, for and he were on lyve, so he be nat syke other in preson, wyte you well he wolde have bene here. For never harde ye that ever he fayled yet hys parte for whom he solde do batayle fore. And therefore,’ seyde sir Lavayne, ‘my lorde kynge Arthur, I beseche you that ye will gyff me lycence to do batayle here thys day for my lorde and mayster, and for to save my lady the quene.’
‘Grauntemercy, jantill sir Lavayne,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘for I dare say all that sir Mellyagaunce puttith uppon my lady the quene ys wronge. For I have spokyn with all the ten wounded knyghtes, and there ys nat one of them, and he were hole and able to do batayle, but he wolde prove uppon sir Mellyagaunce body that it is fais that he puttith upon my lady.’
‘And so shall I,’ seyde sir Lavayne, ‘in the deffence of my lorde sir Launcelot, and ye woll gyff me leve.’
‘And I gyff you leve,’ seyde kynge Arthur, and do youre beste, for I dare well say there ys som treson done to sir Launcelot.’
Than was sir Lavayn armed and horsed, and delyverly at the lystes ende he rode to perfourme hys batayle. And ryght as the herrowdis shuld cry: ‘Léchés les alere!’ ryght so com sir Launcelot dryvyng with all the myght of hys horse. And than kynge Arthure cryed: ‘Whoo!’ and ‘Abyde!’
And than was sir Launcelot called tofore kynge Arthur, and there he tolde opynly tofor the kynge all how that sir Mellyagaunce had served hym firste and l
aste. And whan the kynge and quene and all the lordis knew off the treson of sir Mellyagaunte, they were all ashamed on hys behalffe. Than was the quene sente fore and sette by the kynge in the grete truste of hir champion.
And than sir Launcelot and sir Mellyagaunte dressed them togydir with spearys as thunder, and there sir Launcelot bare hym quyte over hys horse croupe. And than sir Launcelot alyght and dressed hys shylde on hys shuldir and toke hys swerde in hys honde, and so they dressed to eche other and smote many grete strokis togydir. And at the laste sir Launcelot smote hym suche a buffet uppon the helmet that he felle on the tone syde to the erthe.
And than he cryed uppon hym lowde and seyde, ‘Moste noble knyght, sir Launcelot, save my lyff! For I yelde me unto you, and I requyre you, as ye be a knyght and felow of the Table Rounde, sle me nat, for I yelde me as overcomyn, and, whethir I shall lyve or dey, I put me in the kynges honde and youres.’
Than sir Launcelot wyst nat what to do, for he had lever than all the good in the worlde that he myght be revenged uppon hym. So sir Launcelot loked uppon the quene, gyff he myght aspye by ony sygne or countenaunce what she wolde have done. And anone the quene wagged hir hede uppon sir Launcelot, as ho seyth ‘sle hym’ And full well knew sir Launcelot by her sygnys that she wolde have hym dede.
Than sir Launcelot bade hym, ‘Aryse, for shame, and perfourme thys batayle with me to the utteraunce!’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunce, ‘I woll never aryse untyll that ye take me as yolden and recreaunte.’
‘Well, I shall proffir you a large proffir,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that ys for to say I shall unarme my hede and my lyffte quarter of my body, all that may be unarmed as for that quarter, and I woll lette bynde my lyfft honde behynde me there hit shall nat helpe me, and ryght so I shall do batayle with you.’
Than sir Mellyagaunce sterte up and seyde on hyght, ‘Take hede, my lorde Arthur, of thys proffir, for I woll take hit. And lette hym be dissarmed and bounden accordynge to hys proffir.”What sey ye?’ seyde kynge Arthur unto sir Launcelot. ‘Woll ye abyde by youre proffir?’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 91
