Le Morte Darthur: The Winchester Manuscript (Oxford World's Classics)

by Malory, Thomas

  ‘Alas, madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘I am afraid he hath betrayed himself and us all.’

  ‘No force,’* said the Queen, ‘though he be destroyed, for he is a false traitor knight.’

  ‘Madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘I pray you say ye no more so, for wit you well I may not hear such language of him.’

  ‘Why so, Sir Bors?’ said she. ‘Should I not call him traitor when he bore the red sleeve upon his head at Winchester at the great jousts?’

  ‘Madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘that sleeve-bearing repents me,* but I dare say he did bear it to no evil intent; but for this cause he bore the red sleeve, that none of his blood should know him. For or then we nor none of us all never knew that ever he bore token or sign of maiden, lady, nor gentlewoman.’

  ‘Fie on him,’ said the Queen, ‘yet, for all his pride and bobaunce,* for there ye proved yourself better man than he.’

  ‘Nay, madam, say ye never more so, for he beat me and my fellows, and might have slain us and he had willed.’

  ‘Fie on him,’ said the Queen, ‘for I heard Sir Gawain say before my lord Arthur that it were marvel to tell the great love that is between the Fair Maiden of Ascolat and him.’

  ‘Madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘I may not warn* Sir Gawain to say what it pleaseth him; but I dare say, as for my lord Sir Lancelot, that he loveth no lady, gentlewoman, nor maiden, but as he loveth all alike much. And therefore, madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘ye may say what ye will, but wit you well I will haste me to seek him, and find him wheresoever he be; and God send me good tidings of him.’

  And so leave we them there, and speak we of Sir Lancelot that lay in great peril.

  And so as this fair maiden Elaine came to Winchester she sought there all about, and by fortune Sir Lavain her brother was ridden to sport him to enchafe* his horse. And anon as this maiden Elaine saw him she knew him, and then she cried aloud to him; and when he heard her he came to her, and anon with that she asked her brother, ‘How doth my lord Sir Lancelot?’

  ‘Who told you, sister, that my lord’s name was Sir Lancelot?’

  Then she told him how Sir Gawain by his shield knew him. So they rode together till that they came to the hermitage, and anon she alit. So Sir Lavain brought her in to Sir Lancelot; and when she saw him lie so sick and pale in his bed she might not speak, but suddenly she fell down to the earth in a swoon, and there she lay a great while. And when she was relieved,* she shrieked and said, ‘My lord Sir Lancelot, alas, why lie ye in this plight?’ And then she swooned again.

  And then Sir Lancelot prayed Sir Lavain to take her up, ‘and bring her hither to me’. And when she came to herself Sir Lancelot kissed her and said, ‘Fair maiden, why fare ye thus?—for ye put me to more pain. Wherefore make ye no such cheer, for and ye be come to comfort me ye be right welcome; and of this little hurt that I have I shall be right hastily whole, by the grace of God. But I marvel’, said Sir Lancelot, ‘who told you my name.’

  And so this maiden told him all how Sir Gawain was lodged with her father, ‘and there by your shield he discovered your name’.

  ‘Alas,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘that repenteth me that my name is known, for I am sure it will turn unto anger.’

  And then Sir Lancelot compassed in his mind that Sir Gawain would tell Queen Guenivere how he bore the red sleeve, and for whom; that he wist well would turn unto great anger.

  So this maiden Elaine never went from Sir Lancelot, but watched him day and night, and did such attendance to him that the French book saith there was never woman did never more kindlier for man.

  Then Sir Lancelot prayed Sir Lavain to make aspies* in Winchester for Sir Bors if he came there, and told him by what tokens he should know him—by a wound in his forehead. ‘For I am sure,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘that Sir Bors will seek me, for he is the same good knight that hurt me.’

  [16]

  Now turn we unto Sir Bors de Ganis, that came unto Winchester to seek after his cousin Sir Lancelot. And so when he came to Winchester, Sir Lavain laid watch for Sir Bors; and anon he had warning of him, and so he found him. And anon he saluted him and told him from whence he came.

  ‘Now, fair knight,’ said Sir Bors, ‘ye be welcome! And I require you that ye will bring me to my lord Sir Lancelot.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Sir Lavain, ‘take your horse, and within this hour ye shall see him.’

  So they departed and came to the hermitage. And when Sir Bors saw Sir Lancelot lie in his bed dead pale and discoloured, anon Sir Bors lost his countenance, and for kindness and pity he might not speak, but wept tenderly a great while. But when he might speak he said thus:

  ‘Ah, my lord, Sir Lancelot, God you bless, and send you hasty recovering! For full heavy am I of my misfortune and of my unhappiness,* for now I may call myself unhappy. And I dread me that God is greatly displeased with me, that he would suffer me to have such a shame for to hurt you that are all our leader* and all our worship; and therefore I call myself unhappy. Alas, that ever such a caitiff knight as I am should have power by unhappiness to hurt the most noblest knight of the world! Where I so shamefully set upon you and over-charged* you, and where ye might have slain me, ye saved me; and so did not I, for I and all our blood did to you their utterance. I marvel’, said Sir Bors, ‘that my heart or my blood would serve me! Wherefore, my lord Sir Lancelot, I ask you mercy.’

  ‘Fair cousin,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘ye be right welcome. And wit you well, overmuch ye say for the pleasure of me—which pleaseth me nothing, for why I have the same I sought, for I would with pride have overcome you all. And there in my pride I was near slain, and that was in my own fault, for I might have give you warning of my being there, and then had I had no hurt. For it is an old-said saw,* there is hard battle there as kin and friends do battle either against other, for there may be no mercy, but mortal war. Therefore, fair cousin,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘let this language overpass, and all shall be welcome that God sendeth. And let us leave off thy matter and speak of some rejoicing, for this that is done may not be undone; and let us find a remedy how soon that I may be whole.’

  Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bedside, and told Sir Lancelot how the Queen was passing wroth with him, ‘because ye wore the red sleeve at the great jousts’. And there Sir Bors told him all how Sir Gawain discovered it—’by your shield, that ye left with the Fair Maiden of Ascolat’.

  ‘Then is the Queen wroth?’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘Therefore am I right heavy; but I deserved no wrath, for all that I did was because I would not be known.’

  ‘Sir, right so excused I you,’ said Sir Bors, ‘but all was in vain, for she said more largelier to me than I say to you now. But sir, is this she,’ said Sir Bors, ‘that is so busy about you, that men call the Fair Maiden of Ascolat?’

  ‘For sooth, she it is,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘that by no means I cannot put her from me.’

  ‘Why should ye put her from you?’ said Sir Bors, ‘for she is a passing fair damosel, and well beseen* and well taught. And would God, fair cousin,’ said Sir Bors, ‘that ye could love her—but as to that I may not nor dare not counsel you. But I see well,’ said Sir Bors, ‘by her diligence about you that she loveth you entirely.’

  ‘That me repents,’ said Sir Lancelot.

  ‘Well,’ said Sir Bors, ‘she is not the first that hath lost her pain upon you, and that is the more pity.’ And so they talked of many more things.

  And so within three or four days Sir Lancelot waxed big and light.*

  [17]

  Then Sir Bors told Sir Lancelot how there was sworn a great tournament betwixt King Arthur and the King of Northgales, that should be upon All Hallowmas* Day beside Winchester.

  ‘Is that truth?’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘Then shall ye abide with me still a little while until that I be whole, for I feel myself reasonably big and strong.’

  ‘Blessed be God,’ said Sir Bors.

  Then were they there nigh a month together, and ever this maiden Elaine did ever her diligence and labour night and day unto Sir L
ancelot, that there was never child nor wife more meeker to father and husband than was this Fair Maiden of Ascolat; wherefore Sir Bors was greatly pleased with her. So upon a day, by the assent of Sir Lavain, Sir Bors, and Sir Lancelot, they made the hermit to seek in woods for divers herbs, and so Sir Lancelot made fair Elaine to gather herbs for him to make him a bain.* So in the meanwhile Sir Lancelot made Sir Lavain to arm him at all pieces; and there he thought to assay himself upon horseback with a spear, whether he might wield his armour and his spear for his hurt or not. And so when he was upon his horse he stirred him freshly, and the horse was passing lusty and frick* because he was not laboured of a month before. And then Sir Lancelot bade Sir Lavain give him that great spear, and so Sir Lancelot couched that spear in the rest, and the courser leapt mightily when he felt the spurs; and he that was upon him was the noblest horseman of the world, strained him* mightily and stably, and kept still the spear in the rest. And therewith Sir Lancelot strained himself so straitly* with so great force to get the courser forward that the bottom of his wound brast both within and without; and therewith the blood came out so fiercely that he felt himself so feeble that he might not sit upon his horse. And then Sir Lancelot cried unto Sir Bors, ‘Ah, Sir Bors and Sir Lavain, help, for I am come to my end.’ And therewith he fell down on the one side to the earth like a dead corpse.

  And then Sir Bors and Sir Lavain came unto him with sorrow-making out of measure. And so by fortune this maiden Elaine heard their mourning; and then she came, and when she found Sir Lancelot there armed in that place she cried and wept as she had been wood. And then she kissed him, and did what she might to awake him; and then she rebuked her brother and Sir Bors, and called them false traitors, and said, ‘Why would ye take him out of his bed? for and he die, I will appeal* you of his death.’

  And so with that came the hermit, Sir Baudwin of Britain; and when he found Sir Lancelot in that plight he said but little, but wit you well he was wroth. But he said, ‘Let us have him in.’ And anon they bore him into the hermitage and unarmed him, and laid him in his bed; and evermore his wound bled piteously, but he stirred no limb of him. Then the knight hermit put a thing* in his nose and a little deal of water in his mouth, and then Sir Lancelot waked of his swoon; and then the hermit staunched his bleeding. And when Sir Lancelot might speak, he asked why he put his life so in jeopardy.

  ‘Sir,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘because I weened I had been strong enough. And also Sir Bors told me that there should be at Hallowmas a great jousts betwixt King Arthur and the King of Northgales; and therefore I thought to assay myself, whether I might be there or not.’

  ‘Ah, Sir Lancelot,’ said the hermit, ‘your heart and your courage will never be done until your last day. But ye shall do now by my counsel. Let Sir Bors depart from you, and let him do at that tournament what he may. And by the grace of God,’ said the knight hermit, ‘by that the tournament be done and he come hither again, sir, ye shall be whole, so that ye will be governed by me.’

  [18]

  Then Sir Bors made him ready to depart from him; and Sir Lancelot said, ‘Fair cousin, Sir Bors, recommend me unto all those ye ought recommend me unto. And I pray you, enforce* yourself at that jousts that ye may be best, for my love; and here shall I abide you at the mercy of God till your again-coming.’*

  And so Sir Bors departed and came to the court of King Arthur, and told him in what place he left Sir Lancelot.

  ‘That me repents,’ said the King, ‘but since he shall have his life we all may thank God.’

  And then Sir Bors told the Queen what jeopardy Sir Lancelot was in when he would assay his horse. ‘And all that he did was for the love of you, because he would have been at this tournament.’

  ‘Fie on him, recrayed* knight,’ said the Queen, ‘for wit you well I am right sorry and he shall have his life.’

  ‘Madam, his life shall he have,’ said Sir Bors, ‘and who that would otherwise, except you, madam, we that be of his blood would help to shorten their lives. But madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘ye have been often-times displeased with my lord Sir Lancelot, but at all times at the end ye found him a true knight.’ And so he departed.

  And then every knight of the Round Table that were there that time present made them ready to that jousts at All Hallowmas, and thither drew many knights of divers countries.* And so that day Sir Gawain did great deeds of arms, and began first; and the heralds numbered that Sir Gawain smote down twenty knights. Then Sir Bors de Ganis came in the same time, and he was numbered he smote down twenty knights; and therefore the prize was given betwixt them both, for they began first and longest endured. Also Sir Gareth, as the book saith, did that day great deeds of arms, for he smote down and pulled down thirty knights; but when he had done those deeds he tarried not but so departed, and therefore he lost his prize. And Sir Palomides did great deeds of arms that day, for he smote down twenty knights, but he departed suddenly, and men deemed that he and Sir Gareth rode together to some manner adventures.

  So when this tournament was done Sir Bors departed, and rode till he came to Sir Lancelot, his cousin; and then he found him walking on his feet, and there either made great joy of other. And so he told Sir Lancelot of all the jousts like as ye have heard.

  ‘I marvel’, said Sir Lancelot, ‘that Sir Gareth, when he had done such deeds of arms, that he would not tarry.’

  ‘Sir, thereof we marvelled all,’ said Sir Bors, ‘for but if it were you, or the noble knight Sir Tristram, or the good knight Sir Lamorak de Gales, I saw never knight bear down so many knights and smite down in so little a while as did Sir Gareth; and anon as he was gone we all wist not where he became.’

  ‘By my head,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘he is a noble knight, and a mighty man and well-breathed; and if he were well assayed,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I would deem he were good enough for any knight that beareth the life. And he is gentle, courteous and right bounteous, meek, and mild; and in him is no manner of mal engine,* but plain, faithful, and true.’

  So then they made them ready to depart from the hermitage. And so upon a morn they took their horses, and this Elaine la Blanche with them; and when they came to Ascolat there were they well lodged, and had great cheer of Sir Barnard, the old baron, and of Sir Tirry, his son. And so upon the morn when Sir Lancelot should depart, fair Elaine brought her father with her, and Sir Lavain, and Sir Tirry, and thus she said:

  [19]

  ‘My lord Sir Lancelot, now I see ye will depart from me. Now, fair knight and courteous knight,’ said she, ‘have mercy upon me, and suffer me not to die for your love.’

  ‘Why, what would you that I did?’ said Sir Lancelot.

  ‘Sir, I would have you to my husband,’ said Elaine.

  ‘Fair damosel, I thank you heartily,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘But truly,’ said he, ‘I cast me* never to be wedded man.’

  ‘Then, fair knight,’ said she, ‘will ye be my paramour?’

  ‘Jesu defend me,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘for then I rewarded your father and your brother full evil for their great goodness.’

  ‘Alas then,’ said she, ‘I must die for your love.’

  ‘Ye shall not do so,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘for wit you well, fair maiden, I might have been married and I had would,* but I never applied me yet to be married. But because, fair damosel, that ye love me as ye say ye do, I will for your good will and kindness show to you some goodness—that is this: that wheresoever ye will set your heart upon some good knight that will wed you, I shall give you together a thousand pounds yearly to you and to your heirs. This much will I give you, fair maiden, for your kindness; and always while I live to be your own knight.’

  ‘Sir, of all this,’ said the maiden, ‘I will none, for but if ye will wed me, or to be my paramour at the least, wit you well, Sir Lancelot, my good days are done.’

  ‘Fair damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘of these two things ye must pardon me.’

  Then she shrieked shrilly and fell down in a swoon; and then women bore her into her
chamber, and there she made overmuch sorrow. And then Sir Lancelot would depart, and there he asked Sir Lavain what he would do.

  ‘Sir, what should I do,’ said Sir Lavain, ‘but follow you, but if ye drive me from you or command me to go from you?’

  Then came Sir Barnard to Sir Lancelot and said to him, ‘I cannot see but that my daughter will die for your sake.’

  ‘Sir, I may not do withal,’* said Sir Lancelot, ‘for that me sore repenteth; for I report me* to yourself that my proffer is fair. And me repenteth’, said Sir Lancelot, ‘that she loveth me as she doth, for I was never the causer of it; for I report me unto your son, I never early nor late proffered her bounty nor fair behests. And as for me,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I dare do that a knight should do, and say that she is a clean maiden for me, both for deed and will. For I am right heavy of her distress, for she is a full fair maiden, good and gentle and well taught.’

  ‘Father,’ said Sir Lavain, ‘I dare make good she is a clean maiden as for my lord Sir Lancelot; but she doth as I do, for sithen I saw first my lord Sir Lancelot, I could never depart from him, nor nought I will and I may* follow him.’

  Then Sir Lancelot took his leave; and so they departed, and came to Winchester. And when King Arthur wist that Sir Lancelot was come whole and sound, the King made great joy of him, and so did Sir Gawain and all the knights of the Round Table except Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred. Also Queen Guenivere was wood wroth with Sir Lancelot, and would by no means speak with him, but estranged herself from him; and Sir Lancelot made all the means that he might for to speak with the Queen, but it would not be.

  Now speak we of the Fair Maiden of Ascolat, that made such sorrow day and night that she never slept, ate, nor drank, and ever she made her complaint unto Sir Lancelot. So when she had thus endured ten days, that she feebled so that she must needs pass out of this world, then she shrove her clean,* and received her Creator.* And ever she complained still upon Sir Lancelot. Then her ghostly father* bade her leave such thoughts.