Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory

by Thomas Malory

  Than the kynge in this malyncoly metys with a kynge, and with Excalyber he smote his bak in sundir. Than in that haste he metys with anothir, and gurde hym in the waste thorow bothe sydes. Thus he russhed here and there thorow the thyckyst prees more than thirty tymes.

  Than sir Launcelot, sir Gawayne and sir Lovelys son gerde oute one that one hande where Lucyus the Emperoure hymself in a launde stoode. Anone as sir Lucyus sawe sir Gawayne he sayde all on hyght, ‘Thou art welcom iwys, for thou sekyst aftir sorow. Here thou shalt be sone overmacched!’ Sir Launcelot was wroth at hys grymme wordys and gurde to hym with his swerde aboven uppon hys bryght helme, that the raylyng bloode felle doune to his feete.

  And sir Gawayne wyth his longe swerde leyde on faste, that three amerallys deyde thorow the dynte of his hondis. And so Lovel fayled nat in the pres; he slew a kynge and a deuke that knyghtes were noble. Than the Romaynes releved. Whan they sye hir lorde so hampred they chaced and choppedde doune many of oure knyghtes good, and in that rebukyng they bare the bolde Bedwere to the colde erthe, and wyth a ranke swerde he was merveylously wounded. Yet sir Launcelot and sir Lovel rescowed hym blyve.

  With that come in kynge Arthure with the knyghtes of the Table Rounde and rescowed the ryche men that never were lyke to ascape at that tyme, for oftetymes thorow envy grete hardynesse is shewed that hath bene the deth of many kyd knyghtes; for thoughe they speke fayre many one unto other, yet whan they be in batayle eyther wolde beste be praysed.

  Anone as kynge Arthure had a syght of the Emperour Lucyus, for kynge nother for captayne he taryed no lenger. And eythir with her swerdys swapped at othir. So sir Lucyus with his swerde hit Arthure overthwarte the nose and gaff hym a wounde nyghe unto the tunge. Sir Arthure was wroth and gaff hym another with all the myght that in his arme was leved, that frome the creste of his helme unto the bare pappys hit wente adoune, and so ended the Emperour.

  Than the kynge mette with sir Cadore, his kene cousyn and prayde hym, ‘Kylle doune clene for love of sir Kay, my fosterbrother, and for the love of sir Bedwer that longe hath me served. Therefore save none for golde nothir for sylver: for they that woll accompany them with Sarezens, the man that wolde save them were lytyll to prayse. And therefore sle doune and save nother hethyn nothir Crystyn.’

  ‘Than sir Cadore, sir Clegis, they caughte to her swerdys, and sir Launcelot, sir Bors, sir Lyonel, sir Ector de Marys, they whyrled thorow many men of armys. And sir Gawayne, sir Gaherys, sir Lovell and sir Florens, his brothir that was gotyn of sir Braundyles systir uppon a mountayne, all thes knyghtes russhed forth in a frunte with many me knyghtes of the Rounde Table that here be not rehersid. They hurled over hyllys, valeyes, and clowys, and slow downe on every honde wondirfull many, ‘that thousandis in an hepe lay thrumbelyng togedir.’

  But for all that the Romaynes and the Sarezens cowde do other speke to yelde themself there was none saved, but all yode to the swerde. For evir kynge Arthure rode in the thyckeste of the pres and raumped downe lyke a lyon many senatours noble. He wolde nat abyde uppon no poure man for no maner of thyng, and ever he slow slyly and slypped to another tylle all were slayne to the numbir of a hondred thousand, and yet many a thousande ascaped thorow prevy frendys.

  And than relevys the kynge with his noble knyghtes and rensaked over all the feldis for his bolde barouns. And the that were dede were buryed as their bloode asked, and they that myght be saved there was no salve spared nother no deyntés to dere that myght be gotyn for golde other sylver. And thus he let save many knyghtes that wente never to recover, but for sir Kayes recovir and of sir Bedwers the ryche was never man undir God so glad as hymself was.

  Than the kynge rode streyte thereas the Emperoure lay, and garte lyffte hym up lordely with barounes full bolde, and the sawdon of Surré and of Ethyopé the kyng, and of Egypte and of Inde two knyghtes full noble, wyth seventene other kynges were takyn up als, and also syxty senatours of Roome that were honoured full noble men, and all the elders. The kynge let bawme all thes with many good gummys and setthen lette lappe hem in syxtyfolde of sendell large, and than lete lappe hem in lede that for chaufïynge other chongyng they sholde never savoure, and sytthen ‘lete close them in chestys full clenly arayed and their baners abovyn on their bodyes, and their shyldys turned upwarde, that eviry man myght knowe of what contray they were.

  So on the morne they founde in the heth three senatours of Rome. Whan they were brought to the kynge he seyde thes wordis:

  ‘Now to save your lyvys I take no force grete, with that ye woll meve on my message unto grete Rome and presente thes corses unto the proude Potestate and aftir shewe hym my lettyrs and my hole entente. And telle hem in haste they shall se me, and I trow they woll beware how they bourde with me and my knyghtes.’

  Than the Emperour hymself was dressed in a charyot, and every two knyghtys in a charyot cewed aftir other, and the senatours com aftir by cowplys in a corde.

  ‘Now sey ye to the Potestate and all the lordys aftir that I sende hem the trybet that I owe to Rome, for this is the trew trybet that I and myne elders have loste this ten score wyntyrs. And sey hem as mesemes I have sent hem the hole somme, and yf they thynke hit nat inowe, I shall amend hit whan that I com. And ferthermore I charge you to saye to them never to demaunde trybute ne taxe of me ne of my londes, for suche tresoure muste they take as happyns us here.’

  So on the morne thes senatours rayked unto Rome, and within eyghtene dayes they come to the Potestate and tolde hym how they hadde brought the taxe and the trewage of ten score wynters bothe of Ingelonde, Irelonde, and of all the Est londys ‘For kyng Arthure commaundys you nother trybet nother taxe ye never none aske uppon payne of youre hedys, but yf youre tytil be the trewer than ever ought ony of your elders. And for these causys we have foughtyn in Fraunce, and there us is foule happed for all is chopped to the deth bothe the bettir and the worse. Therefore I rede you store you wyth stuff, for war is at honde. For in the moneth of May this myscheff befelle in the contrey of Constantyne by the clere stremys and there he hyred us with his knyghtes and heled them that were hurte that same day and to bery them that were slayne.’

  Now turne we to Arthure with his noble knyghtes that entryth [9] streyghte into Lushburne and so thorowe Flaundirs and than to Lorayne. He laughte up all the lordshyppys, and sytthen he drew hym into Almayne and unto Lumbardy the ryche, and sette lawys in that londe that dured longe aftir ‘And so into Tuskayne, and there the tirrauntys destroyed, and there were captaynes full kene that kepte Arthurs comyng, and at streyte passages slew muche of his peple, and there they vytayled and garnysshed many good townys.

  But there was a cité kepte sure defence agaynste Arthure and his knyghtes, and therewith angred Arthure and seyde all on hyght, ‘I woll wynne this towne other ellys many a doughty shall dye!’ And than the kynge approched to the wallis withoute shelde sauff his bare harneys.

  ‘Sir,’ seyde sir Florence, ‘foly thou workeste for to nyghe so naked this perleouse cité.’

  And thow be aferde,’ seyde kyng Arthure, ‘I rede the faste fle, for they wynne no worshyp of me but to waste their toolys for there ‘ shall never harlot have happe, by the helpe of oure Lord, to kylle a crowned kynge that with creyme is anoynted.’

  Than the noble knyghtes of the Rounde Table approched unto the cité and their horsis levys. They hurled on a frunte streyght unto the barbycans, and there they slewe downe all that before them stondys, and in that bray the brydge they wanne; and had nat the garnyson bene, they had wonne within the yatys and the cité wonne thorow wyghtnesse of hondys. And than oure noble knyghtes withdrew them a lytyll and wente unto the kynge and prayde hym to take his herborgage. And than he pyght his pavylyons of palle, and plantys all aboute the sege, and there he lette sett up suddeynly many engynes.

  Than the kynge called unto hym sir Florens and seyde these wordys: ‘My folk ys wexen feble for wantynge of vytayle, and hereby be forestes full fayre, and thereas oure foomen many And I am sure they have grete store of bestes. And thyder shall thou go to forrey that forestes
, and with the shall go sir Gawayne, and sir Wysharde with sir Walchere, two worshypfull knyghtes with all the wyseste men of the Weste marchis ‘Also sir Cleremount and sir Clegis that were comly in armys and the captayne of Cardyff that is a knyght full good Now go ye and warne all this felyshep that hit be done as I commaunde.’

  So with that forth yode sir Florens, and his felyshyp was sone redy and so they rode thorow holtys and hethis, thorow foreste and over hyllys. And than they com into a lowe medow that was full of swete floures, and there thes noble knyghtes bayted her horses.

  And in the grekynge of the day sir Gawayne hente his hors wondyrs for to seke. Than was he ware of a man armed walkynge a paase by a woodis ease by a revers syde, and his shelde braced on his sholdir, and he on a stronge horse rydys withoute man wyth hym save a boy alone that bare a grymme speare. The knyght bare in his shelde of golde glystrand three gryffons in sabyll and charbuckkle, the cheff of sylver. Whan sir Gawayne was ware of that gay knyght, than he gryped a grete spere and rode streyght towarde hym on a stronge horse for to mete with that sterne knyght where that he hoved. Whan sir Gawayne com hym nyghe, in Englyshe he asked hym what he was. And that other knyght answerde in his langage of Tuskayne and sayde, ‘Whother pryckyst thou, pylloure, that profers the so large?’ Thou getest no pray, prove whan the lykys, for my presoner thou shalt be for all thy proude lokys. Thou spekyste proudly,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘but I counseyle the for all thy grymme wordis that thou gryppe to the thy gere or gretter grame falle.’

  Than hir launcis and speres they handylde by crauff of armys, [10] and com on spedyly with full syker dyntes, and there they shotte thorow shyldys and mayles, and thorow there shene shuldyrs they were thorowborne the brede of an hande. Than were they so wroth that away wolde they never, but rathly russhed oute their swerdys and hyttys on their helmys with hatefull dyntys and stabbis at hir stomakys with swerdys well steled. So freysshly the fre men fyghtes on the grounde, whyle the flamynge fyre flowe oute of hir helmys.

  Than sir Gawayne was grevid wondirly sore and swynges rGalantyne, his good swerde, and grymly he strykys, and clevys the knyghtes shylde in sundir. And thorowoute the thycke haubirke made of sure mayles, and the rubyes that were ryche, he russhed hem in sundir, that men myght beholde the lyvir and longes. Than groned the knyght for his grymme woundis and gyrdis to sir Gawayne ‘ and awkewarde hym strykes, and brastyth the rerebrace and the vawmbrace bothe, and kut thorow a vayne, that Gawayne sore greved, for ‘so worched his wounde that his wytte chonged and therewithall his armure was all blody berenne.

  Than that knyght talked to sir Gawayne and bade hym bynde up his wounde, ‘or thy ble chonge, for thou all bebledis this horse and thy bryght wedys for all the barbers of Bretayne shall nat thy blood staunche. For who that is hurte with this blaade bleed shall he ever’.

  ‘Be God,’ sayde sir Gawayne, ‘hit grevys me but lytyll yet shalt thou nat feare me for all thy grete wordis. ‘Thow trowyste with thy talkynge to tame my herte, but yet thou betydys tene or thou parte hense but thou telle me in haste who may stanche my bledynge.’

  ‘That may I do, and I woll, so thou wolt succour me that I myght be fayre crystynde and becom meke for my mysdedis. Now mercy! Jesu beseche, and I shall becom Crysten and in God stedfastly beleve, and thou mayste for thy manhode have mede to thy soule.’

  ‘I graunte,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘so God me helpe to fullfyll all thy desyre; thou haste gretly hit deservyd. So thou say me the soth, ‘what thou sought here thus sengly thyself alone and what lorde or legeaunte thou art undir.’

  ‘Sir,’ he seyde, ‘I hyght Priamus, and a prynce is my fadir, and ‘he hath bene rebell unto Rome and overredyn muche of hir londis And my fadir is com of Alysaundirs bloode that was overleder of kynges, and of Ector also was he com by the ryght lyne; and many me were of my kynrede, bothe Judas Macabeus and deuke Josue. And ayre I am althernexte of Alysaundir and of Aufryke and of all the Oute Iles. Yet woll I beleve on thy Lorde that thou belevyst on and take the for thy labour tresour inow. For I was so hauté in my herte I helde no man my pere so was I sente into this werre by the assente of my fadir with seven score knyghtes, and now I have encountred with one hath geevyn me of fyghtyng my fylle. Therefore, sir knyght, for thy kynges sake telle me thy name.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘I am no knyght, but I have be brought up in the wardrope with the noble kyng Arthure wyntyrs and dayes for to take hede to his armoure and all his other wedis and to poynte all the paltokkys that longe to hymself and to dresse doublettis for deukys and erlys. And at Yole he made me yoman and gaff me good gyfftys more than an hondred pounde and horse and harneyse rych And yf I have happe to my hele to serve my lyege lorde I shall be well holpyn in haste.’

  ‘A,’ sayde sir Priamus, ‘and his knavys be so kene, his knyghtes ar passynge good Now for thy Kynges love of Hevyn and for thy kyngys love, whether thou be knave other knyght, telle thou me thy name.’

  ‘Be God,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘now woll I telle the soth. My name is syre Gawayn. I am knowyn in his courte and kyd in his chambir ‘and rolled with the rychest of the Rounde Table and I am a deuke dubbed wyth his owne hondis. ‘Therefore grucche nat, good sir, if me this grace is behappened: hit is the goodnesse of God that lente me this strength.’

  ‘Now am I bettir pleased,’ sayde sir Pryamus, ‘than thou haddest gyff me the Provynce and Perysie the ryche, for I had levir have be toryn with four wylde horse than ony yoman had suche a loose wonne of me, other els ony page other prycker sholde wynne of me the pryce in this felde gotyn. But now I warne the, sir knyght of the Rounde Table, here is by the deuke of Lorayne with his knyghtes, and the doughtyeste of Dolphyne landys with many Hyghe Duchemen and many lordis of Lumbardy, and the garneson of Godarde, and men of Westewalle, worshypfull kynges; and of Syssoyne and of Southlonde Sarezyns many numbirde and there named ar in rollys sixty thousand of syker men of armys.

  ‘Therefore but thou hyghe the fro this heth, hit woll harme us both and sore be we hurte never lyke to recover. But take thou hede to the haynxman that he no home blow for and he do, than loke that he be hewyn on pecis: ‘ for here hovys at thy honde a hondred of good knyghtes that ar of my retynew and to awayte uppon my persone. ‘For and thou be raught with that rought, raunsom nother rede golde woll they none aske.’

  Than sir Gawayne rode over a water for to gyde hymself, and that worshypfull knyght hym folowed sore wounded. And so they rode tylle they com to their ferys that were baytand hir horsys in a low medow ‘where lay many lordys lenyng on there shyldys, with lawghyng and japyng and many lowde wordys. Anone as sir Wycharde was ware of sir Gawayne and aspyed that he was hurte ‘he wente towarde hym wepyng and wryngyng his hondys.’

  Than sir Gawayne tolde hym how he had macched with that myghty man of strengthe. ‘Therefore greve yow nat, good sir, for thoughe my shylde be now thirled and my sholdir shorne, yetts thys knyght sir Pryamus hath many perelouse woundys But he hath salvys, he seyth, that woll hele us bothe. But here is new note in honde nere than ye wene, fore by an houre aftir none I trow hit woll noy us all.’

  Than sir Pryamus and sir Gawayne alyght bothe and lette hir horsys bayte in the fayre medow. ‘Than they lette brayde of hir basnettys and hir brode shyldys Than eythir bled so muche that every man had wondir they myght sitte in their sadyls or stonde uppon erthe ‘Now fecche me,’ seyde sir Pryamus, my vyall that hangys by the gurdyll of my haynxman, for hit is full of the floure of the four good watyrs that passis from Paradyse, the mykyll fruyte in fallys that at one day fede shall us all. ‘ Putt that watir in oure fleysh where the syde is tamed, and we shall be hole within four houres.’

  Than they lette dense their woundys with colde whyght wyne, and than they lete anoynte them with bawme over and over, and holer men than they were within an houres space was never lyvyng syn God the worlde made. So whan they were clensed and hole they broched barellys and brought them the wyne wyth brede and brawne and many ryche byrdys And whan they had etyn, than with a trompet they alle assembled to counceylle, and sir
Gawayne seyde, ‘Lordynges, go to armys!’ And whan they were armed and assembled togedyrs, with a clere claryon callys them togedir to counceyle, and sir Gawayne of the case hem tellys.

  ‘Now tell us, sir Pryamus, all the hole purpose of yondir pryce knyghtes.’

  ‘Sirs,’ seyde sir Pryamus, ‘for to rescow me they have made a vowe, other ellys ‘manfully on this molde to be marred all at onys. This was the pure purpose, whan I passed thens”at hir perellys, to preff me uppon payne of their lyvys.’

  ‘Now, good men,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘grype up your hertes and yf we gettles go thus away hit woll greffe oure kynge And sir Florens in this fyght shall here abyde for to kepe the stale as a knyght noble, for he was chosyn and charged in chambir with the kynge chyfften of this chekke and cheyff of us all. And whethir he woll fyght other fie we shall folow aftir; ‘ for as for me, for all yondir folkys faare forsake hem shall I never.’

  ‘A, fadir!’ seyde Florens, ‘full fayre now ye speke, for I am but a fauntekyn to fraysted men of armys and yf I ony foly do the faughte muste be youres. Therefore lese nat youre worshyp. My wytt is but symple, and ye ar oure allther governoure; therefore worke as ye lykys.’

  ‘Now, fayre lordys,’ seyde sir Pryamus, ‘cese youre wordys, I warne you betyme; for ye shall fynde in yondir woodys many perellus knyghtes. They woll putte furth beystys to bayte you oute of numbir, and ye ar fraykis in this fryth nat paste seven hondred, and that is feythfully to fewe to fyght with so many, for harlottys and haynxmen wol helpe us but a lytyll, for they woll hyde them in haste for all their hyghe wordys.’’

  ‘Ye sey well,’ seyde sir Gawayne, so God me helpe!’ ‘Now, fayre sonne,’ sayde sir Gawayne unto Florens, ‘woll ye take youre felyshyp of the beste provyd men to the numbir of a hondred knyghtes and ‘prestly prove yourself and yondir pray wynne?’’