Complete Works of Howard Pyle

by Howard Pyle

  The Lady Elaine telleth her father of Sir Launcelot.

  Then, when the Lady Elaine beheld her father standing before her, she flung herself upon her knees and embraced him about the thighs, crying: “Father! Father! I have seen him and he is in this castle!” At this passion of sorrow King Pelles was much amazed and he said, “Whom hast thou seen, my daughter?” She said: “I have seen Sir Launcelot, and it was he whom they fetched into the castle but now to save him from the townsfolk who were stoning him to death at the postern gate.” Then King Pelles was amazed beyond measure and he said: “Can such a thing be true? How knowest thou it was he?” She said: “I know him by many signs, for I knew him by my love for him and I knew him by his face, and I knew him by the ring set with a blue stone which he weareth upon his finger.”

  Then King Pelles lifted up the Lady Elaine where she kneeled at his feet and he said: “Daughter, stay thy weeping and I will go and examine into this.”

  So he did as he said and he went to the cell and he looked long upon Sir Launcelot as he lay there. And he looked at the ring which the wounded man wore upon his finger. So after a while King Pelles knew that that was indeed Sir Launcelot who lay there, albeit he would not have known him, had not the Lady Elaine first declared that it was he.

  So immediately King Pelles bade those who were in attendance to lift Sir Launcelot up and to bear him very tenderly away from that place and to bring him to a fair large room. So they did as King Pelles commanded and they laid Sir Launcelot upon a couch of down spread with a coverlet of wadded satin. And King Pelles sent for a skilful leech to come and to search Sir Launcelot’s hurts and he bade the physician for to take all heed to save his life. And all that while Sir Launcelot lay in that deep swoon like to death and awoke not.

  And Sir Launcelot slept in that wise for three full days and when he awoke the Lady Elaine and her father and Dame Brysen and the leech alone were present. And lo! when Sir Launcelot awoke his brain was clear of madness and he was himself again, though weak, like to a little child who hath been ill abed.

  How Sir Launcelot awoke from his madness.

  That time the Lady Elaine was kneeling beside Sir Launcelot’s couch and hers was the face he first beheld. Then Sir Launcelot said, speaking very faint and weak, “Where am I?” and the Lady Elaine wept and said, “Lord, you are safe with those who hold you very dear.” Sir Launcelot said, “What has befallen me?” She said: “Lord, thou hast been bedazed in thy mind and hast been sorely hurt with grievous wounds, wherefore thou hast been upon the very edge of death. But now thou art safe with those who love thee.”

  He said, “Have I then been mad?” And to that they who were there said naught. Then Sir Launcelot said again, “Have I been mad?” and thereupon King Pelles said, “Yea, Messire.”

  Then Sir Launcelot groaned as from his soul, and he covered his face with one hand (for the Lady Elaine held the other hand in hers) and he said, “What shame! What shame!” And therewith he groaned again.

  How Sir Launcelot was cherished.

  Then, ever weeping, the Lady Elaine said, “No shame, Lord, but only very great pity!” and she kissed his hand and washed it with her tears. And Sir Launcelot wept also because of his great weakness, and by and by he said, “Elaine, meseems I have no hope or honor save in thee,” and she said, “Take peace, Sir, for in my heart there is indeed both honor for you and hope for your great happiness.” And so Sir Launcelot did take peace.

  Then after a while Sir Launcelot said, “Who here knoweth of my madness?” and King Pelles said, “Only a very few in this castle, Messire.”

  Then Sir Launcelot said: “I pray you that this be all as secret as possible, and that no word concerning me goes beyond these walls.” And King Pelles said, “It shall be as you would have it, Messire.”

  So it was that the news of Sir Launcelot’s madness and of his recovery was not carried beyond those walls.

  Sir Launcelot and Elaine commune together.

  Now after a fortnight had passed, Sir Launcelot was fast becoming cured in body and mind. And one day he and the Lady Elaine were alone in that room where he lay and he said, “Lady, meseems you have had great cause to hate me.” At this she looked upon him and smiled, and she said, “How could I hate thee, Launcelot?” Sir Launcelot said, “Elaine, I have done thee great and grievous wrong in times gone by.” She said, “Say naught of that.” “Yea,” he said, “I must say much of that, for I have this to say of it, that I would that I could undo that wrong which I did thee by my neglect. But what have I aught to offer thee in compensation? Naught but mine own broken and beggared life. Yet that poor life and all that it holds dearest I would fain offer thee if only it might be a compensation to thee.”

  Then the Lady Elaine looked very long and intently at Sir Launcelot and she said: “Sir Launcelot, thy lips speak of duty, but that which boots is that thy heart should speak of duty. For if so be that thou hast ever done me wrong, thou canst not hope to remove that wrong by the words of thy mouth. But if from thy heart thou sayst, ‘I have wronged this one and I would fain make amends,’ then indeed may that wrong be very quickly amended.”

  Then Sir Launcelot smiled and he said: “And so I have looked well into my heart ere I spake to thee, and so it is my heart that speaks and not my lips. For in my heart meseems I find great love for thee and certes I find all honor and reverence for thee lying therein, and moving me to everything that I now hope to do or to perform. Now tell me, Lady, what can any heart hold more than that?” And Elaine said, “Meseems it can hold no more.”

  Then Sir Launcelot took her by the hand and drew her to him and she went to him, and he kissed her upon the lips and she forbade him not. So they two were reconciled in peace and happiness.

  Sir Launcelot and the Lady Elaine are wedded.

  So when Sir Launcelot was altogether healed of his sickness, they two were married. And after they were married, King Pelles gave to them a very noble castle for to be their dwelling-place and that castle was called the Castle of Blayne.

  That castle stood upon a very beautiful island in the midst of a lake of pure water as clear as crystal. And the island was covered over with many plantations and orchards of beautiful trees of various foliages. And there were gardens and meadows upon that island and there was a town about the castle so fair that when one stood upon the margin of that lake and gazed across the lake to the town and the castle he beheld such a place as one may see in a shining dream.

  So Sir Launcelot, because of the great peace of that island and because of the peace which he hoped to find there, called it the Joyous Isle, and so it was known of all men from that time forth.

  So endeth this part of the history of Sir Launcelot with only this to say. That he dwelt there in Joyous Isle in seeming peace and contentment.

  How Sir Launcelot dwelt in Joyous Isle.

  Yet was it indeed peace and contentment that he felt? Alas, that it should be so, but so it was that ever and anon he would remember him of other days of doughty deeds of glory and renown, and ever and anon he would bethink him of that beautiful queen to whom he had one time uplifted his eyes, and of whom he had now no right to think of in that wise. Then his soul would up in arms and would cry out aloud: “Let us go hence and seek that glory and that other’s love once more! Are not all thy comrades waiting for thee to return, and doth not she also look for thee?” Then Sir Launcelot would ever say to his soul, “Down, proud spirit, and think not of these things, but of duty.” But ever and anon that spirit would arise again within him and would struggle with the bonds of honor that held it in check. And ever Sir Launcelot would say, “That which remaineth for me is my duty and my peace of soul.”

  For indeed it is so that the will of a man is but a poor weak defence against the thoughts that arise within a stubborn heart. For, though a man may will to do that which is right, yet may his thoughts ever turn to that which is wrong; and though he may refrain from doing wrong, yet it is in spite of his desirings that he thus refraineth. Yea;
there is no help for a man to contain himself within the bounds of duty, save only that he hath the love of God within his heart. For only when his feet are planted upon that rock may he hope to withstand the powerful thoughts that urge him to do that which is wrong.

  So it was with Sir Launcelot at that time; for though he ever willed to do that which was right, yet his desires ever called to him to depart from the paths of honor and truth in which he walked, and so he was oftentimes much troubled in his spirit.

  PART V. The Story of Sir Ewaine and the Lady of the Fountain

  HERE BEGINNETH THE story of Sir Ewaine; of how he went forth to search for Sir Launcelot in company with Sir Percival of Gales; of how they two met Sir Sagramore in a condition of great disrepute; and of how Sir Ewaine undertook a very strange adventure, in which he succeeded, after great danger to his life, in winning the most fair Lady of the Fountain for his wife.

  Chapter First

  How Sir Ewaine and Sir Percival departed together in quest of Sir Launcelot, and how they met Sir Sagramore, who had failed in a certain adventure. Also how Sir Sagramore told his story concerning that adventure.

  IT HATH ALREADY been told in this book how certain knights of King Arthur’s court — to wit, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lionel, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Gawaine, Sir Ewaine, Sir Percival, Sir Sagramore the Desirous and Sir Agravaine went forth upon Queen Guinevere’s command to search for Sir Launcelot and to bring him back to the court of the King.

  Sir Percival and Sir Ewaine ride forth together.

  Upon that quest, Sir Percival and Sir Ewaine rode together for the sake of companionship. And they made agreement to travel together in that wise until the fortunes of adventure should separate them.

  So they rode side by side in very pleasant companionship, taking the way that chance led them, yet everywhere seeking for news of Sir Launcelot, of whom they could find no word of any sort.

  In those days the world was very fresh and young, so that it was great pleasure to journey in that wise, for anon they two rode beneath blue skies and anon through gentle showers, anon up hill and anon down dale, anon through countryside, anon through town, anon through forest and anon through wold. Yea; in those days, when the world was young, all things of life were so gay and joyous that it was little wonder that good knights like those twain took delight in being abroad in that wise, for so they might breathe more freely, out in the wider expanses of God’s world, and so the spirit within them might expand to a greater joy of life than would be possible in court or in lady’s bower.

  So those two worthy gentlemen travelled as aforesaid in good-fellowship together, journeying hither or yon for a fortnight, neither hearing aught of Sir Launcelot, or meeting with any adventure whatsoever, and lodging them at night at what place chance might happen to bring them.

  They perceive a castle in a valley.

  At the end of that time — to wit, a fortnight — they came to a certain high hill and from the summit thereof they beheld a valley that lay stretched out beneath them. And they beheld a fair tall castle that stood in the midst of that valley, and the castle was surrounded by a little town and the town was surrounded by many fair fields and plantations and orchards of fruit-trees. And at that time evening was coming on apace, and all the golden sky was fading into a pale silver, wonderfully clear and fine, with a single star, like a jewel, shining in the midst of the bright yet fading firmament.

  Then Sir Ewaine said: “Sir, let us go down to yonder place and seek lodging at that fair castle, for meseems that must be a very pleasant place to abide for the coming night.” To the which Sir Percival replied, “Let it be so, brother,” and therewith they rode down into that valley and to that castle. And when they had reached the castle, Sir Percival blew his bugle horn very loud and clear, and straightway there came several of the attendants of the castle who bade them welcome and led them within the gateway thereof. There, when they had arrived, came the major of the castle, and requested them that they would tell what was their name and their degree, and when the two knights had announced these there was great rejoicing that two such famous champions had come thitherward. So several ran and took their horses in charge and others came and assisted them to dismount and others again led them into the castle and thence brought them each to a fair chamber, well bedight and with a very cheerful outlook. Then came other attendants and assisted each knight to disarm and to disrobe, and after that they brought each to a bath of tepid water. Thereafter, when they had bathed and dried themselves with fair linen towels, very soft and fragrant with lavender, these same attendants brought them rich robes of silk and garments of silk, and they dressed them and were at great ease and comfort.

  For thus it was that good knights of old were received in such castles and halls wheresoever they chose to abide in that adventurous wise.

  Sir Percival and Sir Ewaine refresh themselves at the castle.

  Now after Sir Ewaine and Sir Percival had refreshed themselves and bathed themselves and had clad themselves as aforetold, there came to them a certain dignitary of the castle, who brought them word that the lord of the castle desired to have speech with them. So they two went down with that attendant, and he brought them to the great hall of the castle where was the lord thereof, standing to give them welcome. He was a haughty and noble worthy with a long gray beard and he was clad in a dark purple robe embroidered with silver. When he beheld Sir Ewaine and Sir Percival coming into that place, he hastened to meet them and give them greeting and welcome beyond stint. And he said: “Welcome, welcome, fair lords! Thrice welcome to this castle! For certes it is a great glory to us all to have you with us. Moreover, I may tell you that already there is one of your fellows here at this place, and I believe you will be very glad to see him.”

  Quoth Sir Ewaine, “Sir, who is it that is here?”

  They hear news of Sir Sagramore.

  “It is Sir Sagramore who hath come hither,” said the lord of the castle, and at that Sir Ewaine and Sir Percival cried out with amazement. And Sir Ewaine said, “How came Sir Sagramore hither, fair lord?”

  “I will tell you,” said the lord of the castle. “A little before you came hitherward, there arrived at this place a knight riding without a shield and seated upon a white mule. This knight requested rest and refreshment for the night, and upon our asking him his name and degree, he at first refused to tell, for shame of his condition; yet afterward he declared that he was Sir Sagramore of King Arthur’s court, and a knight of the Round Table. He also declared that he had met with a sad mischance and had lost his shield and his war-horse, wherefore he was travelling in that wise as I have told you.”

  “Sir,” quoth Sir Ewaine, “this is a very strange thing I hear, that Sir Sagramore should be travelling in that unknightly wise. Wit you that as Sir Sagramore is a knight of the Round Table, this matter concerns both Sir Percival and myself very closely. Now I pray you for to let me have speech with him, so that I may know why it is that he hath travelled in that wise and without his knightly shield.”

  “It shall be as you command, Messire,” said the lord of the castle, “and so I will straightway send a messenger to Sir Sagramore with word that you would have speech with him.”

  Sir Sagramore appeareth.

  So the lord of the castle sent the messenger as he said, and anon there came Sir Sagramore to where they were. But when Sir Sagramore stood before Sir Ewaine and Sir Percival, he hung his head full low, as though not wishing to look those knights in the face because of shame that they should find him there in such a condition. Then Sir Ewaine said to him: “Sir, I pray you tell me how you came by such a mischance as this, so that you ride without your shield and upon a white mule like to a strolling demoiselle?”

  “Messire,” said Sir Sagramore, “I will tell you the whole story, for I would have you know that it was through no disgrace but by mishap of battle that I am come to this pass.”

  Quoth Sir Ewaine, “I may well believe that.”

  Then the lord of the castle
said: “Messires, ere you talk of these things I pray you to come to table and eat and drink and refresh yourselves. After that we may listen with a better spirit to what this knight has to tell us.”

  They all sit at feast together.

  So that which the lord of the castle said seemed very good to those knights, wherefore they straightway went in to table in the hall and sat down thereat. And the table was spread with all manner of meats, and there was wine of divers sorts, both red and white, and they ate and drank with much appetite and great good-will. Then when they were satisfied as to their hunger, Sir Ewaine said to Sir Sagramore: “Now, Messire, I pray you to tell us concerning that adventure which hath befallen you.”

  Sir Sagramore said, “I will do so.” Then he said:

  Sir Sagramore telleth of his adventures.

  How Sir Sagramore came to a wonderful valley of enchantment.

  “You must know that when I travelled forth errant in search of Sir Launcelot, as several of my fellows did, I went forward upon my way, making diligent inquiries concerning him, but still could get no news of him. So I travelled onward in that wise, ever making inquiries as aforesaid, until two days ago, what time in the evening I came to a certain place a considerable distance to the east of this. There I found myself in a valley that I verily believe must be the fairest valley in the world. For in that valley I beheld a very pleasant expanse of meadow-lands all abloom with flowers, and I beheld many glades of trees of an even size, some abloom with blossoms and some full of fruit. And there was a river of very clear water that flowed down through the centre of the valley, and everywhere there were birds of curious plumage that sang very bewitchingly, so from these things I wist that this valley was very likely a place of enchantment. In the midst of that valley I beheld a very noble castle that was of as wonderful an appearance as the valley itself, so I rode forward into the valley and approached the castle.