‘At thys tyme,’ seyde Merlion, ‘I woll nat telle.’ tyme sir Trystrams ys takyn with his soveraigne lady, than shall ye here and know my name; and at that tyme ye shall here tydynges that shall nat please you.’
‘A, Balyne!’ seyde Merlion, ‘thou haste done thyselff grete hurte that thou saved nat thys lady that slew herselff; for thou myghtyst have saved hir and thou haddist wold.’
‘By the fayth of my body,’ seyde Balyne, ‘I myght nat save hir, for she slewe hirselff suddeynly.’
‘Me repentis hit,’ seyde Merlion; ‘because of the dethe of that lady thou shalt stryke a stroke moste dolerous that ever man stroke, excepte the stroke of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste. For thou shalt hurte the trewyst knyght and the man of moste worship that now lyvith; and thorow that stroke, three kyngdomys shall be brought into grete poverté, miseri and wrecchednesse twelve yere. And the knyght shall nat be hole of that wounde many yerys.’ Than Merlion toke hys leve.
‘Nay,’ seyde Balyn, ‘nat so; for and I wyste thou seyde soth, I wolde do so perleous a dede that I wolde sle myself to make the a lyer.’
Therewith Merlion vanysshed away suddeynly, and than Balyn and his brother toke their leve of kynge Marke.
‘But first,’ seyde the kynge, ‘telle me youre name.’
‘Sir,’ seyde Balan, ye may se he beryth two swerdis, and thereby ye may calle hym the Knyght with the Two Swerdis.’
And so departed kynge Marke unto Camelot to kynge Arthure.
And Balyne toke the way to kynge Royns, and as they rode togydir they mette with Merlion disgysed so that they knew hym nought.
‘But whotherward ryde ye?’ seyde Merlion.
‘We had litill ado to telle you,’ seyde thes two knyghtes.
‘But what ys thy name?’ seyde Balyn.
‘At thys tyme,’ seyde Merlion, ‘I woll nat telle.’
‘Hit ys an evyll sygne,’ seyde the knyghtes, ‘that thou arte a trew man, that thou wolt nat telle thy name.’
‘As for that,’ seyde Merlion, ‘be as hit be may. But I can telle you wherefore ye ryde thys way: for to mete with kynge Royns. But hit woll nat avayle you withoute ye have my counceyle.’
‘A,’ seyde Balyn, ‘ye ar Merlion. We woll be ruled by youre counceyle.’
‘Com on,’ seyde Merlion, ‘and ye shall have grete worship. And loke that ye do knyghtly, for ye shall have nede.’
‘As for that,’ seyde Balyne, ‘dred you nat, for we woll do what we may.’
Than there lodged Merlion and thes two knyghtes in a woode [9] amonge the levis besydes the hyghway, and toke of the brydyls of their horsis and putte hem to grasse, and leyde hem downe to reste tyll hit was nyghe mydnyght. Than Merlion bade hem ryse and make hem redy: ‘for here commyth the kynge nyghehonde, that was stoolyn away frome his oste with a three score horsis of hys beste knyghtes, and twenty of them rode tofore the lorde to warne the Lady de Vaunce that the kynge was commynge.’ For that nyght kynge Royns sholde have lyen with hir.
‘Which ys the kynge?’ seyde Balyn.
‘Abyde,’ seyde Merlion, ‘for here in a strete weye! ye shall mete with hym.’ And therewith he shewed Balyn and hys brothir the kynge.
And anone they mette with hym, and smote hym dewne and wounded hym freyshly, and layde hym to the growunde. And there they slewe on the ryght honde and on the lyffte honde me than fourty of hys men; and the remanaunte fledde. Than wente they agayne unto kynge Royns and wolde have slayne hym, had he nat yelded hym unto hir grace. Than seyde he thus:
‘Knyghtes full of prouesse, sle me nat! For be my lyff ye may wynne, and by my dethe litill.’
‘Ye say sothe,’ seyde the knyghtes, and so leyde hym on an horse littur.
So with that Merlion vanysshed, and com to kynge Arthure aforehonde and tolde hym how hys moste enemy was takyn and discomfite.
‘By whom?’ seyde kynge Arthure.
‘By two knyghtes,’ seyde Merlion, ‘that wolde fayne have youre lordship. And to-morrow ye shall know what knyghtis they ar.’
So anone aftir com the Knyght with the Two Swerdis and hys brothir, and brought with them kynge Royns of Northe Waalis, and there delyverde hym to the porters, and charged hem with hym. And so they two returned agen in the dawnyng of the day.
Than kynge Arthure com to kynge Royns and seyde, ‘Sir kynge, ye ar wellcom. By what adventure com ye hydir?’
‘Sir,’ seyde kynge Royns, ‘I com hyder by an harde adventure.’
“Who wanne you?’ seyde kynge Arthure.
‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘the Knyght with the Two Swerdis and hys brothir, which ar two mervayles knyghtes of prouesse.’
‘I know hem nat,’ seyde Arthure, ‘but much am I beholdynge unto them.’
‘A, sir,’ seyde Merlion, ‘I shall telle you. Hit ys Balyn that encheved the swerde and his brothir Balan, a good knyght: there lyvith nat a bettir of proues, nother of worthynesse. And hit shall be the grettist dole of hym that ever y knew of knyght; for he shall nat longe endure.’
‘Alas,’ seyde kynge Arthure, ‘that ys grete pité; for I am muche beholdynge unto hym, and I have evill deserved hit agayne for hys kyndnesse.’
‘Nay, nay,’ sede Merlion, ‘he shall do much more for you, and that shall ye know in haste. But, sir, ar ye purveyde?’ seyde Merlion. ‘For to-morn the oste of kynge Nero, kynge Royns brothir, woll sette on you or none with a grete oste. And therefore make you redy, for I woll departe frome you.’
[10] Than kynge Arthure made hys oste redy in ten batayles; and Nero was redy in the fylde afore the Castell Terrable with a grete oste. And he had ten batayles with many me peple than kynge Arthure had. Than Nero had the vawarde with the moste party of the people. And Merlion com to kynge Lotte of the lie of Orkeney, and helde hym with a tale of the prophecy tylle Nero and his peple were destroyed. And there sir Kay the Senesciall dud passyngely well, that dayes of hys lyff the worship wente never frome hym, and sir Hervis de Revel that dud merveylous dedys of armys that day with Arthur. And kynge Arthure slew that day twenty knyghtes and maymed fourty.
So at that tyme com in the Knyght with the Two Swerdis and his brothir, but they dud so mervaylously that the kynge and all the knyghtes mervayled of them. And all they that behelde them seyde they were sente frome hevyn as angels other devilles frome helle. And kynge Arthure seyde hymself they were the doughtyeste knyghtes that ever he sawe, for they gaff such strokes that all men had wondir of hem.
So in the meanewhyle com one to kynge Lotte and tolde hym whyle he tarryed there how Nero was destroyed and slayne with all his oste.
Alas,’ seyde kynge Lotte, ‘I am ashamed; for in my defaute there ys many a worshipful man slayne; for and we had ben togyders there had ben none oste undir hevyn were able to have macched us. But thys faytoure with hys prophecy hath mocked me.’
All that dud Merlion, for he knew well that and kynge Lotte had bene with hys body at the first batayle, kynge Arthure had be slayne and all hys peple distressed. And well Merlion knew that one of the kynges sholde be dede that day; and lothe was Merlion that ony of them bothe sholde be slayne, but of the tweyne he had levir kyng Lotte of Orkeney had be slayne than Arthure.
‘What ys beste to do?’ seyde kynge Lotte. ‘Whether ys me bettir to trete with kynge Arthur othir to fyght? For the gretter party of oure people ar slayne and distressed.’
‘Sir,’ seyde a knyght, ‘sette ye on Arthure, for they ar wery and forfoughtyn, and we be freyssh.’
‘As for me,’ seyde kynge Lott, ‘I wolde that every knyght wolde do hys parte as I wolde do myne.’
Than they avaunced baners and smote togydirs and brused hir sperys. And Arthurs knyghtes with the helpe of the Knyght with Two Swerdys and hys brothir Balan put kynge Lotte and hys oste to the warre. But allwayes kynge Lotte hylde hym ever in the forefronte and dud merveylous dedis of armys; for all his oste was borne up by hys hondys, for he abode all knyghtes. Alas, he myght nat endure, the whych was grete pité! So worthy a knyght as he was one, that he sholde be overmacched, that of late tyme before he had
bene a knyght of kynge Arthurs, and wedded the syster of hym. And for because that kynge Arthure lay by hys wyff and gate on her sir Mordred, therefore kynge Lott helde ever agaynste Arthure.
So there was a knyght that was called the Knyght with the Strange Beste, and at that tyme hys ryght name was called Pellynore, which was a good man off prouesse as few in the dayes lyvynge. And he strake a myghty stroke at kynge Lott as he fought with hys enemyes, and he fayled of hys stroke and smote the horse necke, that he foundred to the erthe with kyng Lott. And therewith anone kynge Pellinor smote hym a grete stroke thorow the helme and hede unto the browis.
Than all the oste of Orkeney fledde for the deth of kynge Lotte, and there they were takyn and slayne, all the oste. But kynge Pellynore bare the wyte of the dethe of kynge Lott, wherefore sir Gawayne revenged the deth of hys fadir the ten yere aftir he was made knyght, and slew kynge Pellynor hys owne hondis. Also there was slayne at that batayle twelve kynges on the syde of kynge Lott with Nero, and were buryed in the chirch of Seynte Stevins in Camelot. And the remanent of knyghtes and other were buryed in a grete roche.
So at the enterement com kyng Lottis wyff, Morgause, with hir four sonnes, Gawayne, Aggravayne, Gaheris, and Gareth. Also there com thydir kyng Uryens, sir Uwaynes fadir, and Morgan le Fay, his wyff, that was kynge Arthurs syster. All thes com to the enterement. But of all the twelve kyngis kynge Arthure lette make the tombe of kynge Lotte passynge rychely, and made hys tombe by hymselff.
And than Arthure lette make twelve images of laton and cooper, and overgylte with golde in the sygne of the twelve kynges; and eche one of hem helde a tapir of wexe in hir honde that brente nyght and day. And kynge Arthure was made in the sygne of a fygure stondynge aboven them with a swerde drawyn in hys honde, and all the twelve fygures had countenaunce lyke unto men that were overcom. All thys made Merlion by hys subtyle craufte.
And there he tolde the kynge how that whan he was dede thes tapers sholde brenne no lenger, ‘aftir the adventures of the Sankgreall that shall com amonge you and be encheved.’ Also he tolde kynge Arthure how Balyn, the worshipfull knyght, shall gyff the dolerouse stroke, whereof shall falle grete vengeaunce.
‘A, where ys Balyne, Balan, and Pellinore?’
‘As for kynge Pellinore,’ seyde Merlion, ‘he woll mete with you soone. And as for Balyne, he woll nat be longe frome you. But the other brothir woll departe: ye shall se hym no more.’
‘Be my fayth,’ seyde Arthur, ‘they ar two manly knyghtes, and namely that Balyne passith of proues off ony knyght that ever y founde, for much am I beholdynge unto hym. Wolde God he wolde abyde with me!’
‘Sir,’ seyde Merlion, ‘loke ye kepe well the scawberd of Excaleber, for ye shall lose no bloode whyle ye have the scawberde uppon you, thoughe ye have as many woundis uppon you as ye may have.’ So aftir for grete truste Arthure betoke the scawberde unto Morgan le Fay, hys sister. And she loved another knyght bettir than hir husbande, kynge Uriens, othir Arthure. And she wolde have had Arthure hir brother slayne, and therefore she lete make anothir scawberd for Excaliber lyke it by enchauntement, and gaf the scawberd Excaliber to her lover. And the knyghtes name was called Accolon, that aftir had nere slayne kynge Arthure. But aftir thys Merlion tolde unto kynge Arthure of the prophecy that there sholde be a grete batayle besydes Salysbiry, and Mordred hys owne sonne sholde be agaynste hym. Also he tolde hym that Bagdemagus was his cosyne germayne, and unto kynge Uryens.
So within a day or two kynge Arthure was somwhat syke, and he [12] lette pycch hys pavilion in a medow, and there he leyde hym downe on a pay let to slepe; but he myght have no reste. Ryght so he herde a grete noyse of an horse, and therewith the kynge loked oute at the porche dore of the pavilion and saw a knyght commynge evyn by hym makynge grete dole.
‘Abyde, fayre sir,’ seyde Arthure, ‘and telle me wherefore thou makyst this sorow.’
‘Ye may litill amende me,’ seyde the knyght, and so passed forth to the Castell of Meliot.
And anone aftir that com Balyne. And whan he saw kyng Arthur he alyght of hys horse and com to the kynge one foote and salewed hym. ‘Be my hede,’ seyde Arthure, ye be wellcom. Sir, ryght now com rydynge thys way a knyght makynge grete morne, and for what cause I can nat telle. Wherefore I wolde desire of you, of your curtesy and of your jantilnesse, to fecche agayne that knyght othir by force othir by his good wylle.’
‘I shall do more for youre lordeship than that,’ seyde Balyne, ‘othir ellis I woll greve hym.’
So Balyn rode more than a pace and founde the knyght with a damesell undir a foreyste and seyde, ‘Sir knyght, ye muste com with me unto kynge Arthure for to telle hym of youre sorow.’
‘That woll I nat,’ seyde the knyght, ‘for hit woll harme me gretely and do you none avayle.’
‘Sir,’ seyde Balyne, ‘I pray you make you redy, for ye muste go with me othir ellis I muste fyght with you and brynge you by force. And that were me lothe to do.’
‘Woll ye be my warraunte,’ seyde the knyght, ‘and I go with you?”Yee,’ seyde Balyne, ‘othir ellis, by the fayth of my body, I woll dye therefore.’
And so he made hym redy to go with Balyne and leffte the damesell stylle. And as they were evyn before Arthurs pavilion, there com one invisible and smote the knyght that wente with Balyn thorowoute the body with a spere.
‘Alas!’ seyde the knyght, ‘I am slayne undir youre conduyte with a knyght called Garlon. Therefore take my horse that is bettir than youres, and ryde to the damesell and folow the queste that I was in as she woll lede you, and revenge my deth whan ye may.’
That shall I do,’ seyde Balyn, and that I make a vow to God and knyghthode.’
And so he departed frome kynge Arthure with grete sorow.
So kynge Arthure lette bury this knyght rychely, and made mencion on his tombe how here was slayne Berbeus and by whom the trechory was done of the knyght rGarlonl But ever the damesell bare the truncheon of the spere with hir that sir Harleus le Berbeus was slayne withall.
So Balyne and the damesell rode into the foreyste and there mette with a knyght that had bene an hontynge. And that knyght asked Balyn for what cause he made so grete sorow.
‘Me lyste nat to telle,’ seyde Balyne.
‘Now,’ seyde the knyght, and I were armed as ye be, I wolde fyght with you but iff ye tolde me.’
‘That sholde litell nede,’ seyde Balyne, ‘I am nat aferde to telle you,’ and so tolde hym all the case how hit was.
‘A,’ seyde the knyght, ys thys all? Here I ensure you by the feyth of my body never to departe frome you whyle my lyff lastith.’
And so they wente to their ostré and armed hem and so rode forthe with Balyne. And as they com by an ermytage evyn by a chyrcheyerde, there com Garlon invisible and smote this knyght, Peryne de Mounte Belyarde, thorowoute the body with a glayve.
‘Alas,’ seyde the knyght, ‘I am slayne by thys traytoure knyght that rydith invisible.’
‘Alas,’ seyde Balyne, ‘thys ys nat the fixste despite that he hath done me.’
And there the ermyte and Balyne buryed the knyght undir a ryche stone and a tombe royall. And on the morne they founde letters of golde wretyn how that sir Gawayne shall revenge his fadirs deth Hcynge Loti on kynge Pellynore.
And anone aftir this Balyne and the damesell rode forth tylle they com to a castell. And anone Balyne alyghte and wente in. And as sone as Balyne came with in the castels yate the portecolys were lette downe at his backe, and there felle many men aboute the damesell and wolde have slayne hir. Whan Balyne saw that, he was sore greved for he myght nat helpe her. But than he wente up into a towre and lepte over the wallis into the dyche and hurte nat hymselff. And anone he pulled oute his swerde and wolde have foughtyn with them. And they all seyde nay, they wolde nat fyght with hym, for they dud nothynge but the olde custom of thys castell, and tolde hym that hir lady was syke and had leyne many yeres, and she myght nat be hole but yf she had bloode in a sylver dysshe full, of a clene mayde and a kynges doughter. ‘And therefore the custom of thys castell
ys that there shall no damesell passe thys way but she shall blede of hir bloode a sylver dysshefull.’
‘Well,’ seyde Balyne, she shall blede as much as she may blede, but I woll nat lose the lyff of hir whyle my lyff lastith.’
And so Balyn made hir to bleede by hir good wylle, but hir bloode holpe nat the lady. And so she and he rested there all that nyght and had good chere, and in the mornynge they passed on their wayes. And as hit tellith aftir in the SANKGREALL that sir Percivall his syster holpe that lady with hir blood, whereof she was dede.
[14] Than they rode three or four dayes and nevir mette with adventure. And so by fortune they were lodged with a jantilman that was a ryche man and well at ease. And as they sate at souper Balyn herde one complayne grevously by hym in a chambir.
‘What ys thys noyse?’ seyde Balyn.
‘For sothe,’ seyde his oste, ‘I woll telle you. I was but late at a justynge and there I justed with a knyght that ys brothir unto kynge Pellam, and twyse I smote hym downe. And than he promysed to quyte me on my beste frende. And so he wounded thus my son that can nat be hole tylle I have of that knyghtes bloode. And he rydith all invisyble, but I know nat hys name.’
‘A,’ seyde Balyne, ‘I know that knyghtes name, which ys Garlon, and he hath slayne two knyghtes of myne in the same maner. Therefore I had levir mete with that knyght than all the golde in thys realme, for the despyte he hath done me.’
‘Well,’ seyde hys oste, ‘I shall telle you how. Kynge Pellam off Lystenoyse hath made do cry in all the contrey a grete feste that shall be within thes twenty dayes, and no knyght may com there but he brynge hys wyff with hym othir hys paramoure. And that your enemy and myne ye shall se that day.’
‘Than I promyse you,’ seyde Balyn, ‘parte of his bloode to hele youre sonne withall.’
‘Than we woll be forewarde to-morne,’ seyde he.
So on the morne they rode all three towarde kynge Pellam, and they had fyftene dayes journey or they com thydir. And that same day began the grete feste. And so they alyght and stabled their horsis and wente into the castell, but Balynes oste myght not! be lette in because he had no lady. But Balyne was well receyved and brought unto a chambir and unarmed hym. And there was brought hym robis to his plesure, and wolde have had Balyn leve his swerde behynde hym.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 8