‘I assent me with good hert,’ seyde Florence.
‘Than sir Florens called unto hym sir Florydas with fyve score [11] knyghtes, and forth they flynged a faste trotte and the folke of the bestes dryvys. Than folowed aftir sir Florens with noble men of armys fully seven hondred, and one sir Feraunte of Spayne before on a fayre stede that was fostred in Farmagos: the fende was his fadir. He flyttys towarde sir Florens and sayde, ‘Whother flyest thou false knyght?’ Than sir Florens was fayne, and in feautyr castis his spere, and rydys towarde the rought and restys no lenger, and full but in the forehede he hyttys sir Feraunte and brake his necke-bone. Than Feraunte ‘his cosyn had grete care and cryed full lowde:’
‘Thou haste slayne a knyght and kynge anoynted that or this tyme founde never frayke that myght abyde hym a buffette. Therefore ye shall dey, there shall none of you ascape!’
‘Fye on the,’ seyde Florydas, ‘thou eregned wrecche!’
And therewith to hym he flyngis with a swerde, that ‘all the fleysshe of his flanke he flappys in sundir, that all the fylth of the freyke and many of his guttys fylle to the erthe.
Than lyghtly rydis a raynke for to rescowe that barowne that was borne in the Rodis, and rebell unto Cryste. He preced in proudly and aftir his pray wyndys. But the raynke Rycharde of the Rounde Table on a rede stede rode hym agaynste and threste hym thorow the shylde evyn to the herte. Than he rored full rudely, but rose he nevermore.
Than alle his feerys me than fyve hondred felle uppon sir Florence and on his fyve score knyghtes. Than sir Florens and sir Florydas in feautir bothe castys’ their spearys, and they felled fyve at the frunte at the fyrste entré, and sore they assayled our folke and brake browys and brestys and felde many adowne. Whan sir Pryamus, the pryse knyght, perceyved their gamys he yode to sir Gawayne and thes wordys seyde:
‘Thy pryse men ar sore begone and put undir, for they ar oversette with Sarazens me than five hondred. Now wolde thou suffir me for the love of thy God with a small parte of thy men to succoure hem betyme?’
‘Sir, grucch ye nat,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘the gre is there owne, for they mowe have gyfftys full grete igraunted of my lorde.’ Therefore lette them fyght whylys hem lystes, the freysh knyghtes; for som of hem fought nat their fylle of all this fyve wyntyr. Therefore I woll nat styrre wyth my stale half my steede length but yf they be stadde wyth more stuff than I se hem agaynste.’
So by that tyme was sir Gawayne ware by the woodys syde men commynge woodly with all maner of wepon, for there rode the erle of Ethelwolde havyng on eyther half many hole thousandys; and the deuke of Douchemen dressys hym aftir and passis with Pryamus knyghtes. Than Gawayne, the good knyght, he chered his knyghtes and sayde, ‘Greve you nat, good men, for yondir grete syght, and be nat abaysshed of yondir boyes in hir bryght weedis, for and we feyght in fayth the felde is ourys!’
Than they haled up their brydyls and began walop, and by that they com nygh by a londys length they jowked downe with her hedys many jantyll knyghtes. A more jolyar joustynge was never sene on erthe. ‘Than the ryche men of the Rounde Table ran thorow the thykkeste with hir stronge sperys, that many a raynke for that prouesse ran into the grevys, and durste no knavys but knyghtes kene of herte fyght more in this felde, but fledde.
‘Be God, seyde sir Gawayne, ‘this gladys my herte that youdir gadlynges be gone, for they made a grete numbir ‘Now ar they fewer in the felde whan they were fyrst numbyrd by twenty thousand, in feyth, for all their grete boste.’
Than Jubeaunce of Geane, a myghty gyaunte, he feautred his speare to sir Garrarde, a good knyght of Walys. He smote the Waylshe knyght evyn to the herte. Than our knyghtes myghtyly meddeled wyth hir myddylwarde. But anone at all assemble many Saresyns were destroyed, for the soveraynes of Sessoyne were salved for ever.
By that tyme ‘sir Pryamus, the good prynce, in the presence of lordys royall to his penowne he rode and lyghtly hit hentys, ‘ and rode with the royall rought of the Rounde Table and streyte all his retynew folowed hym aftyr oute of the woode. They folowed as shepe oute of a folde, and streyte they yode to the felde and stood by their kynge lorde. ‘And sytthyn they sente to the deuke thes same wordis:
‘Sir, we have bene thy sowdyars all this seven wynter, and now we forsake the for the love of oure lyege lorde Arthure, for we may with oure worshype wende where us lykys for garneson nother golde have we none resceyved.’
‘Fye on you, the devyll have your bonys! For suche sowdyars I sette but a lytyll.’
Than the deuke dressys his Dowchmen streyte unto sir Gawayne and to sir Pryamus. So they two gryped their spearys, and at the gaynyste in he gurdys, wyth hir noble myghtes. And there sir Pryamus metyth with the marquesse of Moyseslonde and smytyth hym thorow.
‘Than Chastelayne, a chylde of kyng Arthurs chambir he was a warde of sir Gawaynes of the Weste marchis he chasis to sir Cheldrake that was a chyfteyne noble, and with his spere he smote thorow Cheldrake, and so that chek that chylde cheved by chaunce of armys. But than they chaced that chylde, that he nowhere myght ascape, for one with a swerde the halse of the chylde he smote in too. Whan sir Gawayne hit sawe he wepte wyth all his herte and inwardly he brente for sorow.
But anone Gotelake, a good man of armys, ‘ for Chastelayne the chylde he chongyd his mode, that the wete watir wente doune his chykys. Than sir Gawayne dressis hym and to a deuke rydys, and sir Dolphyn the deuke droff harde agaynste hym. But sir Gawayne hym dressyth with a grete spere, that the grounden hede droff to his herte. Yette he gate hit oute and ran to another one, sir Hardolf, an hardy man of armys, and slyly in he lette hit slyppe thorow, and sodeynly he fallyth to the erthe. Yet he slow in the slade of men of armys me than syxty with his hondys.
Than was sir Gawayne ware of the man that slew Chastelayne his chylde, and swyfftly with his swerde he smyttyth hym thorow “Now and thou haddyst ascaped withoutyn scathe, the scorne had bene oures!’
And aftir sir Gawayne dressis hym unto the route and russhyth on helmys, and rode streyte to the rerewarde, and so his way holdyth, and sir Pryamus hym allthernexte, gydynge hym his wayes. And there ‘they hurtleyth and hewyth downe hethyn knyghtes many and sir Florence on the other syde dud what he myght. ‘There the lordys of Lorayne and of Lumbardy both were takyn and lad away with oure noble knyghtes. ‘ For suche a chek oure lordys cheved by chaunce of that were that they were so avaunced, for hit avayled hem ever.
Whan sir Florence and sir Gawayne had the felde wonne, than they sente before fyve score of knyghtes, ‘and her prayes and hir presoners passyth hem aftir. And sir Gawayne in a streyte passage he hovyth tyll all the prayes were paste that streyte patthe that so sore he dredith. So they rode tyll they the cité sawe, and ‘sothly the same day with asawte hit was gotyn.
Than sir Florence and sir Gawayne harborowed surely their peple, and sytthen turnys to a tente and tellyth the kynge all the tale truly, that day how they travayled and how his ferse men fare welle all:
‘And fele of thy foomen ar brought oute of lyff, and many worshypfull presoners ar yolden into oure handys. But Chastelayne, thy chylde, is chopped of the hede, yette slewe he a cheff knyghte his owne hondys this day.’
‘Now thanked be God,’ sayde the noble kynge, ‘but I mervayle [12] muche of that bourely knyght that stondyth by the, for hym semys to be a straungere, for presonere is he none lyke.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘this is a good man of armys: he macched me sore this day in the mournyng, and had nat his helpe bene dethe had I founden. And now is he yolden unto God and to me, sir kyng, for to becom Crysten and on good beleve. And whan he is crystynde and in the fayth belevys, there lyvyth nat a bettir knyght nor a nobler of his hondis.’
Than the kynge in haste crystynde hym fayre and lette conferme hym Priamus, as he was afore, and lyghtly lete dubbe hym a deuke with his hondys, and made hym knyght of the Table Rounde.
And anone the kynge lette cry asawte unto the towne, and there was rerynge of laddyrs and brekynge of wallys. The payne that the peple had was pyté to se! ‘Than the d
uchés hir dressed with damesels ryche and the countes of Clarysyn with hir clere maydyns they kneled in their kyrtyls there the kynge hovyth and besought hym of socoure for the sake of oute Lorde:
‘And sey us som good worde and cetyl thy peple or the cité suddeynly be with asawte wonne, ‘ for than shall dye many a soule that grevid the never.’
The kynge avalyd and lyffte up his vyser with a knyghtly countenaunce, and kneled to hir myldely with full meke wordes and seyde, ‘Shall none myssedo you, madam, that to me longis for I graunte the chartyrs and to thy chefif maydyns unto thy chyldern and to thy chyff men in chambir that to the longis. But thy deuke is in daunger, my drede ys the lesse. But ye shall have lyvelode to leve by as to thyne astate fallys.’
Than Arthure sendyth on eche syde wyth sertayne lordis for to cese of their sawte, for the cité was yolden, and therewith the deukeis eldyst sonne com with the keyes and kneled downe unto the kynge and besought hym of his grace. And there he cesed the sawte by assente of his lordis, and the deuke was dressed to Dover with the kynges dere knyghtes for to dwelle in daunger and dole dayes of his lyff ‘Than the kynge with his crowne on his hede recoverde the cité and the castell, and the captaynes and connestablys knew hym for lorde and there she delyverde and dalte byfore dyverse lordis a dowré for the deuches and hir chyldryn. Than he made wardens to welde all that londis.
And so in Lorayne and Lumbardy he lodged as a lorde in his owne and sette lawys in the londis as hym beste lyked. And than at Lammas he yode, unto Lusarne he sought, and lay at his leyser with lykynges inowe. Than he mevys over the mountaynes and doth many mervayles and so goth in by Godarte that Gareth sonne wynnys ‘Than he lokys into Lumbardy and on low de spekyth:
‘In yondir lykynge londis as lorde woll I dwelle.’
Sir Florence and sir Floridas that day passed with fyve hondred good men of armys unto the cité of Virvyn. They sought at the gaynyste and leyde there a buysshement as hem beste lykys So there yssued oute of that cité many hundretthis and skyrmysshed wyth oure foreryders as hem beste semed. Than broke oute oure buysshemente and the brydge wynnys and so rode unto their borowys with baners up dysplayed. There fledde muche folke oute of numbir for ferde of sir Florence and his fers knyghtes Than they busked up a baner abovyn the gatis and of sir Florence in fayth so fayne were they never.
The kynge than hovyth on an hylle and lokyth to the wallys and sayde, ‘‘I se be yondir sygne the cité is wonne.’ Than he lete make a cry thorow all the oste that uppon payne of lyff and lymme and also lesynge of his goodys that no lyegeman that longyth to his oste sholde lye be no maydens ne ladyes nother no burgessis wyff that to the cité longis. So whan this conquerrour com into the cité he passed into the castell, and there he lendis and ‘comfortis the carefull men with many knyghtly wordis and made there a captayne a knyght of his owne contrey, and the commons accorded theretyll.
Whan the soveraygnes of Myllayne herde that the cité was wonne they sente unto kynge Arthure grete sommys of sylver, syxty horsys well charged, and besought hym as soverayne to have ruthe of the peple, and seyde they wolde be sudgectes untyll hym for ever and yelde hym servyse and sewte surely for hir londys bothe for Pleasaunce and Pavye and Petresaynte and for the Porte Trembyll and so meldy to gyff yerly for Myllayne a myllyon of golde and make homage unto Arthure all hir lyff tymes. Than the kynge by his counceyle a conduyte hem sendys so to com in and know hym for lorde.
Than into Tuskayne he turned whan he tyme semed, and there he wynnys towrys and townys full hyghe, and all he wasted in his warrys there he away ryddys ‘Than he spedys towarde Spolute with his spedfull knyghtys, and so unto Vyterbe he vytayled his knyghtes, and to the vale of Vysecounte he devysed there to lygge in that vertuouse vale amonge vynys full ‘And there he suggeournys, that soveraigne, with solace at his harte for to wete whether the senatours wolde hym of succour beseke.
But sone after, on a Saturday, sought unto kynge Arthure all the senatoures that were on lyve and of the cunnyngst cardynallis that dwelled in the courte, and prayde hym of pece and profird hym full large and besought hym as a soverayne moste governoure undir God for to gyff them lycence for syx wekys large, that they myght be assembled all, and than in the cité of Syon that is Rome callyd ‘to crowne hym there kyndly, with crysemed hondys with septure, for sothe, as an Emperoure sholde.
‘I assente me,’ seyde the kynge, ‘as ye have devysed, and comly be Crystmas to be crowned, hereafter to reigne in my asstate and to kepe my Rounde Table with the rentys of Rome to rule as me lykys; and than, as I am avysed, to gete me over the salte see with good men of armys to deme for His deth that for us all on the roode dyed.’
Whan the senatours had this answere, unto Rome they turned and made rydy for his corownemente in the moste noble wyse. And at the day assigned, as the romaynes me tellys, he was crowned Emperour by the Poopys hondis, with all the royalté in the worlde to welde for ever. There they suggeourned that seson tyll aftir the tyme, and stabelysshed all the londys frome Rome unto Fraunce, and gaff londis and rentys unto knyghtes that had hem well deserved. There was none that playned on his parte, ryche nothir poore.
Than he commaunded sir Launcelot and sir Bors to take kepe unto their fadyrs landys that kynge Ban and kynge Bors welded and her fadyrs:
‘Loke that ye take seynge in all your brode londis, and cause youre lyege men to know you as for their kynde lorde, and suffir never your soveraynté to be alledged with your subjectes, nother the soveraygne of your persone and londys. Also the myghty kynge Claudas I gyff you for to parte betwyxte you evyn, for to mayntene your kynrede, that be noble knyghtes, so that ye and they to the Rounde Table make your repeyre.’
Sir Launcelot and sir Bors de Gaynys thanked the kynge fayre and sayde their hertes and servyse sholde ever be his owne.
‘Where art thou, Priamus? Thy fee is yet behynde. Here I make the and gyff the deukedom of Lorayne for ever unto the and thyne ayres; and whan we com into Ingelonde, for to purvey the of horsemete, a fifty thousand quarterly, for to mayntene thy servauntes. So thou leve not my felyship, this gyffte ys thyne owne.’
The knyght thankys the kynge with a kynde wylle and sayde, ‘As longe as I lyve my servys is your owne.’
Thus the kynge gaff many londys. There was none that wolde aske that myghte playne of his parte, for of rychesse and welth they had all at her wylle.
Than the knyghtes and lordis that to the kynge longis called a counsayle uppon a fayre morne and sayde, ‘Sir kynge, we beseche the for to here us all. We ar undir youre lordship well stuffid, blyssed be God, of many thynges; and also we have wyffis weddid. We woll beseche youre good grace to reles us to sporte us with oure wyffis, for, worshyp be Cryste, this journey is well overcom.’
‘Ye say well,’ seyde the kynge, ‘for inowghe is as good as a feste, for to attemte God overmuche I holde hit not wysedom. And therefore make you all redy and turne we into Ingelonde.’
Than there was trussynge of harneyse with caryage full noble. And the kynge toke his leve of the holy fadir the Pope and patryarkys and cardynalys and senatoures full ryche, and leffte good governaunce in that noble cité and all the contrays of Rome for to warde and to kepe on payne of deth, that in no wyse his commaundement be brokyn. Thus he passyth thorow the contreyes of all partyes. And so kyng Arthure passed over the see unto Sandwyche haven.
Whan quene Gwenyvere herde of his commynge she mette with hym at London, and so dud all other quenys and noble ladyes. For there was never a solempner metyng in one cité togedyrs, for all maner of rychesse they brought with hem at the full.
HERE ENDYTH THE TALE OF THE NOBLE KYNGE ARTHURE
THAT WAS EMPEROURE HYMSELF THOROW DYGNYTÉ OF HIS HONDYS.
AND HERE FOLOWYTH AFFTYR MANY NOBLE TALYS OF SIR LAUNCELOT DE LAKE.
EXPLYCIT THE NOBLE TALE BETWYXT KYNGE ARTHURE AND LUCIUS THE EMPEROUR OF ROME.
BOOK III. THE NOBLE TALE OF SIR LAUNCELOT DU LAKE
[1] SONE aftir that kynge Arthure was com from Rome into Ingelonde, than all the knyghtys of the Rounde Tab
le resorted unto the kynge and made many joustys and turnementes. And some there were that were but knyghtes encresed in armys and worshyp that passed all other of her felowys in prouesse and noble dedys, and that was well proved on many.
But in especiall hit was prevyd on sir Launcelot de Lake, for in all turnementes, justys, and dedys of armys, both for lyff and deth, he passed all other knyghtes, and at no tyme was he ovircom but yf hit were by treson other inchauntement. So this sir Launcelot encresed so mervaylously in worship and honoure; therefore he is the fyrste knyght that the Freynsh booke makyth mencion of aftir kynge Arthure com frome Rome. Wherefore quene Gwenyvere had hym in grete favoure aboven all other knyghtis, and so he loved the quene agayne aboven all other ladyes dayes of his lyff, and for hir he dud many dedys of armys and saved her from the fyre thorow his noble chevalry.
Thus sir Launcelot rested hym longe with play and game; and than he thought hymself to preve in straunge adventures, and bade his nevew, sir Lyonell, for to make hym redy, ‘for we muste go seke adventures’. So they mounted on their horses, armed at all ryghtes, and rode into a depe foreste and so into a playne.
So the wedir was hote aboute noone, and sir Launcelot had grete luste to slepe. Than sir Lyonell aspyed a grete appyll-tre that stoode by an hedge, and seyde, ‘Sir, yondir is a fayre shadow, there may we reste us and oure horsys.’
‘Hit is trouthe,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for this seven yere I was not so slepy as I am no we.’
So there they alyted and tyed there horsys unto sondry treis, and sir Launcelot layde hym downe undir this appyll-tre, and his helmet undir his hede. And sir Lyonell waked whyles he slepte. So sir Launcelot slepte passyng faste.
And in the meanewhyle com there three knyghtes rydynge, as faste fleynge as they myght ryde, and there folowed hem three but one knyght. And whan sir Lyonell hym sawe, he thought he sawe never so grete a knyght nother so well-farynge a man and well appareyld unto all ryghtes. So within a whyle this stronge knyght had overtakyn one of the three knyghtes, and there he smote hym to the colde erth, that he lay stylle; and than he rode unto the secunde knyght and smote hym so that man and horse felle downe. And so streyte unto the thirde knyght, and smote hym behynde his horse ars a spere-lengthe; and than he alyght downe and rayned his horse on the brydyll and bounde all three knyghtes faste with the raynes of theire owne brydelys.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 21