‘Alas, thou noble red knight, think what worship hath evermore followed thee! Let never a kitchen knave endure thee so long as he doth.’
Then the red knight waxed wroth and doubled his strokes, and hurt Beaumains wonderly sore, that the blood ran down to the ground, that it was wonder to see that strong battle; yet at the last Sir Beaumains struck him to the earth. And as he would have slain the red knight, he cried, ‘Mercy, noble knight! Slay me not, and I shall yield me to thee with fifty knights with me that be at my commandment, and forgive thee all the despite that thou hast done to me, and the death of my brother the black knight and the winning of my brother the green knight.’
‘All this availeth not,’ said Beaumains, ‘but if my damosel pray me to save thy life.’ And therewith he made semblant to strike off his head.
‘Let be, thou Beaumains, and slay him not, for he is a noble knight; and not so hardy, upon thy head,* but that thou save him.’
Then Beaumains bade the red knight to stand up, ‘and thank this damosel now of thy life.’ Then the red knight prayed him to see his castle and to repose them all that night. So the damosel granted him, and there they had good cheer. But always this damosel said many foul words unto Beaumains, whereof the red knight had great marvel. And all that night the red knight made three score knights to watch Beaumains, that he should have no shame nor villainy. And upon the morn they heard Mass and dined; and the red knight came before Beaumains with his three score knights, and there he proffered him his homage and fealty at all times, he and his knights to do him service.
‘I thank you,’ said Beaumains, ‘but this ye shall grant me: when I call upon you, to come before my lord King Arthur, and yield you unto him to be his knights.’
‘Sir,’ said the red knight, ‘I will be ready, and my fellowship, at your summons.’
So Sir Beaumains departed and the damosel; and ever she rode chiding him in the foulest manner wise that she could.
[11]
‘Damosel,’ said Beaumains, ‘ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me as ye do, for me seemeth I have done you good service; and ever ye threaten me I shall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever for all your boast they all lie in the dust or in the mire. And therefore I pray you, rebuke me no more; and when ye see me beaten or yielded as recreant, then may you bid me go from you shamefully. But first, I let you wit I will not depart from you, for then I were worse than a fool and I would depart from you all the while that I win worship.’
‘Well,’ said she, ‘right soon shall meet thee a knight that shall pay thee all thy wages, for he is the most man of worship of the world except King Arthur.’
‘I will well,’ said Beaumains. ‘The more he is of worship, the more shall be my worship to have ado with him.’
Then anon they were ware where was before them a city rich and fair, and betwixt them and the city, a mile and more, there was a fair meadow that seemed new mown, and therein were many pavilions fair to behold.
‘Lo,’ said the damosel, ‘yonder is a lord that owneth yonder city, and his custom is when the weather is fair to lie in this meadow to joust and to tourney. And ever there is about him five hundred knights and gentlemen of arms, and there is all manner of games that any gentleman can devise.’
‘That goodly lord’, said Beaumains, ‘would I fain see.’
‘Thou shalt see him time enough,’ said the damosel. And so as she rode near she espied the pavilion where the lord was.
‘Lo,’ said she, ‘seest thou yonder pavilion that is all of the colour of inde,* and all manner of thing that there is about?’—men and women, and horses trapped, shields and spears, were all of the colour of inde. ‘And his name is Sir Persant of Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever thou looked on.’
‘It may well be,’ said Sir Beaumains, ‘but be he never so stout a knight, in this field I shall abide till that I see him under his shield.’
‘Ah, fool,’ said she, ‘thou were better to flee betimes.’
‘Why?’ said Beaumains, ‘and he be such a knight as ye make him, he will not set upon me with all his men; for and there come no more but one at once, I shall him not fail whilst my life may last.’
‘Fie, fie,’ said the damosel, ‘that ever such a stinking kitchen knave should blow such a boast!’
‘Damosel,’ he said, ‘ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I had liever do five battles than so to be rebuked. Let him come, and then let him do his worst.’
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I marvel what thou art and of what kin thou art come; for boldly thou speakest, and boldly thou hast done, that have I seen. Therefore I pray thee, save thyself and thou may, for thy horse and thou have had great travail, and I dread that we dwell over long from the siege; for it is hence but seven mile, and all perilous passages we are passed save all only this passage, and here I dread me sore lest ye shall catch some hurt—therefore I would ye were hence, that ye were not bruised nor hurt with this strong knight. But I let you wit this Sir Persant of Inde is nothing of might nor strength unto the knight that lieth at the siege about my lady.’*
‘As for that,’ said Sir Beaumains, ‘be as be may; for sithen I am come so nigh this knight I will prove his might or I depart from him, and else I shall be shamed and I now withdraw from him. And therefore, damosel, have ye no doubt, by the grace of God I shall so deal with this knight that within two hours after noon I shall deliver him, and then shall we come to the siege by daylight.’
‘Ah, Jesu, marvel have I,’ said the damosel, ‘what manner a man ye be, for it may never be other but that ye be come of gentle blood; for so foul and shamefully did never woman revile a knight as I have done you, and ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came never but of gentle blood.’
‘Damosel,’ said Beaumains, ‘a knight may little do that may not suffer a gentlewoman, for whatsoever ye said unto me I took no heed to your words; for the more ye said the more ye angered me, and my wrath I wreaked upon them that I had ado withal. The missaying that ye missaid me in my battle furthered me much, and caused me to think to show and prove myself at the end what I was; for peradventure though it list me* to be fed in King Arthur’s court, I might have had meat in other places, but I did it for to prove my friends, and that shall be known another day whether that I be a gentleman born or none. For I let you wit, fair damosel, I have done you gentleman’s service; and peradventure better service yet will I do or I depart from you.’
‘Alas,’ she said, ‘fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I have missaid or done against you.’
‘With all my will,’ said he, ‘I forgive it you, for ye did nothing but as ye should do, for all your evil words pleased me. Damosel,’ said Beaumains, ‘since it liketh you to say thus fair unto me, wit ye well it gladdeth my heart greatly, and now me seemeth there is no knight living but I am able enough for him.’
[12]
With this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them as they hoved* in the field, and knightly he sent unto them whether he came in war or in peace.*
‘Say to thy lord I take no force, but whether as him list.’
So the messenger went again unto Sir Persant and told him all his answer.
‘Well, then will I have ado with him to the utterance.’ And so he purveyed him and rode against him.
When Beaumains saw him, he made him ready, and met with all their mights together as fast as their horses might run, and either brast their spears in three pieces, and their horses down to the earth. And deliverly they avoided their horses and put their shields before them, and drew their swords and gave many great strokes, that sometimes they hurled so together that they fell grovelling on the ground. Thus they fought two hours and more, that their shields and hauberks were all forhewn, and in many places were they wounded. So at the last Sir Beaumains smote him through the cost* of the body, and then he retrayed him* here and there, and knightly maintained his battle long time. And at the last, though him loath were, Beaumains smote Sir Persant above upon the helm, that he fell grovell
ing to the earth; and then he leapt upon him overthwart and unlaced his helm to have slain him. Then Sir Persant yielded him and asked him mercy. With that came the damosel and prayed him to save his life.
‘I will well,’ he said, ‘for it were pity this noble knight should die.’
‘Gramercy,’ said Sir Persant, ‘for now I wot well it was ye that slew my brother the black knight at the black thorn; he was a full noble knight, his name was Sir Perard. Also, I am sure that ye are he that won my other brother the green knight, his name is Sir Pertolepe. Also ye won my brother the red knight, Sir Perimones. And now, sir, ye have won me. This shall I do for to please you: ye shall have homage and fealty of me and of a hundred knights to be always at your commandment, to go and ride where ye will command us.’
And so they went unto Sir Persant’s pavilion and drank wine and ate spices. And afterward Sir Persant made him to rest upon a bed until supper time, and after supper to bed again. So when Sir Beaumains was abed, Sir Persant had a daughter, a fair lady of eighteen year of age, and there he called her unto him, and charged her and commanded her upon his blessing to go unto the knight’s bed and lie down by his side, ‘and make him no strange cheer, but good cheer, and take him in your arms and kiss him; and look that this be done, I charge you, as ye will have my love and my good will.’
So Sir Persant’s daughter did as her father bade her; and so she yode unto Sir Beaumains’ bed, and privily she despoiled her* and laid her down by him. And then he awoke and saw her, and asked her what she was.
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I am Sir Persant’s daughter, that by the commandment of my father I am come hither.’
‘Be ye a pucelle* or a wife?’
‘Sir,’ she said ‘I am a clean maiden.’
‘God defend me,’ said he then, ‘that ever I should defile you to do Sir Persant such a shame.* Therefore I pray you, fair damosel, arise out of this bed or else I will.’
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I came not hither by my own will, but as I was commanded.’
‘Alas,’ said Sir Beaumains, ‘I were a shameful knight and I would do your father any disworship.’
But so he kissed her, and so she departed and came unto Sir Persant her father, and told him all how she had sped.
‘Truly,’ said Sir Persant, ‘whatsoever he be, he is come of full noble blood.’
And so we leave them there till on the morn.
[13]
And so on the morn the damosel and Sir Beaumains heard Mass and broke their fast, and so took their leave.
‘Fair damosel,’ said Sir Persant, ‘whitherward are ye away leading this knight?’
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘this knight is going to the Castle Dangerous there as my sister is besieged.’
‘Aha,’ said Sir Persant, ‘that is the Knight of the Red Launds, which is the most perilous knight that I know now living, and a man that is without mercy; and men say that he hath seven men’s strength. God save you, Sir Beaumains, from that knight, for he doth great wrong to that lady, and that is great pity, for she is one of the fairest ladies of the world, and me seemeth that your damosel is her sister: is not your name Lyonet?’
‘Sir, so I hight; and my lady my sister hight Dame Lyonesse.’
‘Now shall I tell you,’ said Sir Persant. ‘This Red Knight of the Red Launds hath lain long at that siege, well-nigh this two years, and many times he might have had her and he had would;* but he prolongeth the time to this intent, for to have Sir Lancelot du Lake to do battle with him, or with Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamorak de Gales, or Sir Gawain, and this is his tarrying so long at the siege. Now my lord,’ said Sir Persant of Inde, ‘be ye strong and of good heart, for ye shall have ado with a good knight.’
‘Let me deal,’ said Sir Beaumains.
‘Sir,’ said this damosel Lyonet, ‘I require you that ye will make this gentleman knight or ever he fight with the Red Knight.’
‘I will with all my heart,’ said Sir Persant, ‘and it please him to take the order of knighthood of so simple a man as I am.’
‘Sir,’ said Beaumains, ‘I thank you; for I am better sped, for certainly the noble knight Sir Lancelot made me knight.’
‘Ah,’ said Sir Persant, ‘of a more renowned man might ye not be made knight; for of all knights he may be called chief of knighthood; and so all the world saith, that betwixt three knights is departed clearly knighthood, that is Sir Lancelot du Lake, Sir Tristram de Lionesse, and Sir Lamorak de Gales: these bear now the renown. Yet there be many other noble knights, as Sir Palomides the Saracen and Sir Safer his brother; also Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamor de Ganis, his brother; also Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Percival de Gales—these and many more be noble knights, but there be none that bear the name but these three above said. Therefore God speed you well,’ said Sir Persant, ‘for and ye may match that Red Knight, ye shall be called the fourth of the world.’
‘Sir,’ said Beaumains, ‘I would fain be of good fame and of knighthood. And I let you wit, I am come of good men, for I dare say my father was a nobleman. And so that ye will keep it in close, and this damosel, I will tell you of what kin I am come of.’
‘We will not discover you,’ said they both, ‘till ye command us, by the faith we owe to Jesu.’
‘Truly then,’ said he, ‘my name is Sir Gareth of Orkney, and King Lot was my father, and my mother is King Arthur’s sister, her name is Dame Morgause. And Sir Gawain is my brother, and Sir Agravain and Sir Gaheris, and I am youngest of them all. And yet wot not King Arthur nor Sir Gawain what I am.’
[14]
So the book saith that the lady that was besieged had word of her sister’s coming by the dwarf, and a knight with her, and how he had passed all the perilous passages.
‘What manner a man is he?’ said the lady.
‘He is a noble knight truly, madam,’ said the dwarf, ‘and but a young man; but he is as likely a man as ever ye saw any.’
‘What is he, and of what kin’, said the lady, ‘is he come, and of whom was he made knight?’
‘Madam,’ said the dwarf, he was ‘king’s son of Orkney, but his name I will not tell you as at this time; but wit ye well, of Sir Lancelot was he made knight, for of none other would he be made knight. And Sir Kay named him Beaumains.’
‘How escaped he’, said the lady, ‘from the brethren of Sir Persant?’
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘as a noble knight should. First, he slew two brethren at a passage of a water.’
‘Ah!’ said she, ‘they were two good knights, but they were murderers. That one hight Sir Garrard le Breuse, and that other hight Sir Arnold le Breuse.’
‘Then, madam, he encountered the black knight, and slew him in plain battle; and so he took his horse and his armour, and fought with the green knight and won him in plain battle. And in like wise he served the red knight, and after in the same wise he served the blue knight and won him in plain battle.’
‘Then,’ said the lady, ‘he hath overcome Sir Persant of Inde, that is one of the noblest knights of the world.’
‘Truly, madam,’ said the dwarf, ‘he hath won all the four brethren and slain the black knight, and yet he did more before: he overthrew Sir Kay and left him nigh dead upon the ground. Also he did a great battle with Sir Lancelot, and there they departed on even hands; and then Sir Lancelot made him knight.’
‘Dwarf,’ said the lady, ‘I am glad of these tidings. Therefore go thou unto a hermitage of mine hereby, and bear with thee of my wine in two flagons of silver, they are of two gallons; and also two cast* of bread with the fat venison baked and dainty fowls; and a cup of gold here I deliver thee, that is rich of precious stones. And bear all this to my hermitage, and put it in the hermit’s hands; and sithen go thou to my sister and greet her well, and commend me unto that gentle knight, and pray him to eat and drink and make him strong. And say him I thank him of his courtesy and goodness, that he would take upon him such labour for me that never did him bounty nor courtesy. Also pray him that he be of good hea
rt and courage himself, for he shall meet with a full noble knight, but he is neither of courtesy, bounty, nor gentleness, for he attendeth unto nothing but to murder; and that is the cause I cannot praise him nor love him.’
So this dwarf departed, and came to Sir Persant, where he found the damosel Lyonet and Sir Beaumains, and there he told them all as ye have heard. And then they took their leave; but Sir Persant took an ambling hackney and conveyed them on their ways, and then betook* he them unto God. And so within a little while they came to the hermitage, and there they drank the wine, and ate the venison and the fowls baked.
And so when they had repasted them well, the dwarf returned again with his vessel unto the castle. And there met with him the Red Knight of the Red Launds, and asked him from whence he came, and where he had been.
‘Sir,’ said the dwarf, ‘I have been with my lady’s sister of the castle and she hath been at King Arthur’s court, and brought a knight with her.’
‘Then I account her travail but lorn;* for though she had brought with her Sir Lancelot, Sir Tristram, and Sir Lamorak or Sir Gawain, I would think myself good enough for them all.’
‘It may well be,’ said the dwarf, ‘but this knight hath passed all the perilous passages, and slain the black knight and other two more, and won the green knight, the red knight, and the blue knight.’
‘Then is he one of these four that I have before rehearsed.’
‘He is none of these,’ said the dwarf, ‘but he is a king’s son.’
‘What is his name?’ said the Red Knight of the Red Launds.
‘That will I not tell you; but Sir Kay in scorn named him Beaumains.’
‘I care not,’ said the knight, ‘whatsoever he be, for I shall soon deliver* him; and if I overmatch him he shall have a shameful death, as many others have had.’
‘That were pity,’ said the dwarf, ‘and it is pity that ye make such shameful war upon noble knights.’
[15]
Now leave we the knight and the dwarf and speak we of Beaumains, that all night lay in the hermitage; and upon the morn he and the damosel Lyonet heard their Mass and broke their fast, and then they took their horses and rode throughout a fair forest. And then they came to a plain, and saw where were many pavilions and tents, and a fair castle, and there was much smoke and great noise. And when they came near the siege, Sir Beaumains espied on great trees, as he rode, how there hung full goodly armed knights by the neck, and their shields about their necks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels. And so there hung nigh forty knights shamefully with full rich arms. Then Sir Beaumains abated his countenance and said, ‘What meaneth this?’
Le Morte Darthur: The Winchester Manuscript (Oxford World's Classics) Page 20
