‘Welle,’ seyde she, ‘thou semyst well to be a good knyght, and yf thou dare mete with a good knyght I shall brynge the where is the beste knyght and the myghtyeste that ever thou founde, so thou wolte telle me thy name and what knyght thou art.’
‘Damesell, as for to telle you my name, I take no grete force. Truly, my name is sir Launcelot du Lake.’
‘Sir, thou besemys well; here is adventures fast by that fallyth for the. For hereby dwellyth a knyght that woll nat be overmacched for no man I know but ye do overmacche hym. And his name is sir Tarquyn. And, as I undirstonde, he hath in his preson of Arthurs courte good knyghtes three score and four that he hath wonne with his owne hondys. But whan ye have done that journey, ye shall promyse me, as ye ar a trew knyght, for to go and helpe me and other damesels that ar dystressed dayly with a false knyght.’
‘All youre entente, damesell, and desyre I woll fulfylle, so ye woll brynge me unto this knyght.’
‘Now, fayre knyght, com on youre way.’
And so she brought hym unto the fourde and the tre where hynge the basyn. So sir Launcelot lette his horse drynke, and sytthen he bete on the basyn with the butte of his spere tylle the bottum felle oute. And longe dud he so, but he sye no man. Than he rode endlonge the gatys of that maner nyghe halfe an howre.
And than was he ware of a grete knyght that droffe an horse afore hym, and overthwarte the horse lay an armed knyght bounden. And ever as they com nere and nere sir Launcelot thought he sholde know hym. Than was he ware that hit was sir Gaherys, Gawaynes brothir, a knyght of the Table Rounde.
‘Now, fayre damesell,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I se yondir a knyght faste ibounden that is a felow of myne, and brother he is unto sir Gawayne. And at the fyrste begynnynge I promyse you, by the leve of God, for to rescowe that knyght. But yf his maystir sytte the bettir in his sadyl, I shall delyver all the presoners that he hath oute of daungere, for I am sure he hath two bretherne of myne presoners with hym.’
But by that tyme that eythir had sene other they gryped theyre sperys unto them.
‘Now, fayre knyght,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘put that wounded knyghte of that horse and lette hym reste a whyle, and lette us too preve oure strengthis. For, as hit is enfourmed me, thou doyste and haste done me grete despyte, and shame unto knyghtes of the Rounde Table. And therefore now defende the!’
‘And thou be of the Rounde Table,’ seyde Terquyn, ‘I defy the and all thy felyshyp!’
‘That is overmuche seyde,’ sir Launcelot seyde, ‘of the at thys tyme.’
And than they put there sperys in their restys and come togedyrs with hir horsis as faste as they myght ren; and aythir smote other in myddys of their shyldis, that both their horsys backys braste undir them, and the knyghtes were bothe astoned. And as sone as they myght they avoyded their horsys and toke their shyldys before them and drew oute their swerdys and com togydir egirly; and eyther gaff other many stronge strokys, for there myght nothir shyldis nother harneyse holde their strokes.
And so within a whyle they had bothe many grymme woundys and bledde passyng grevously. Thus they fared two owres and more, trasyng and rasyng eyther othir where they myght hitte ony bare place. Than at the laste they were brethles bothe, and stode lenyng on her swerdys.
‘Now, felow,’ seyde sir Terquyne, ‘holde thy honde a whyle, and telle me that I shall aske of the.’
‘Sey on,’ seyde sir Launcelot.
Than sir Terquyn seyde, ‘Thou art the byggyst man that ever I mette withall, and the beste-brethed, and as lyke one knyght that I hate abovyn all other knyghtes. So be hit that thou be not he, I woll lyghtly acorde with the, and for thy love I woll delyver all the presoners that I have, that is three score and four, so thou wolde telle me thy name. And thou and I woll be felowys togedyrs and never to fayle the whyle that I lyve.’
‘Ye sey well,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘but sytthyn hit is so that I have thy frendeshyppe and may have, what knyght is that that thou hatyste abovyn all thynge?’
‘Feythfully,’ seyde sir Terquyn, ‘his name is sir Launcelot de Lake, for he slowe my brothir sir Carados at the Dolerous Towre, that was one of the beste knyghtes on lyve; and therefore hym I excepte of alle knyghtes, for may I hym onys mete, the tone shall make an ende, I make myne avow. And for sir Launcelottis sake I have slayne an hondred good knyghtes, and as many I have maymed all uttirly, that they myght never aftir helpe themself, and many have dyed in preson. And yette have I three score and four, and all shal be delyverde, so thou wolte telle me thy name, so be hit that thou be nat sir Launcelot.’
‘Now se I well,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that suche a man I myght be, I myght have pease; and suche a man I myght e be that there sholde be mortall warre betwyxte us. And now, sir knyght, at thy requeste I woll that thou wete and know that I am sir Launcelot du Lake, kynge Bannys son of Benwyke, and verry knyght of the Table Rounde. And now I defyghe the, and do thy beste!’
‘A!’ seyde sir Tarquyne, ‘thou arte to me moste welcom of ony knyght, for we shall never departe tylle the tone of us be dede.’
Than they hurteled togedyrs as two wylde bullys, russhynge and laysshyng with hir shyldis and swerdys, that somtyme they felle bothe on their nosys. Thus they foughte stylle two owres and more and never wolde have reste, and sir Tarquyne gaff sir Launcelot many woundys, that all the grounde thereas they faughte was all besparcled with bloode.
Than at the laste sir Terquyne wexed faynte and gaff somwhat abakke, and bare his shylde low for wery. That aspyed sir Launcelot, and lepte uppon hym fersly and gate hym by the bavoure of hys helmette and plucked hym downe on his kneis, and anone he raced of his helme and smote his necke in sundir.
And whan sir Launcelot had done this he yode unto the damesell and seyde, ‘Damesell, I am redy to go with you where ye woll have me, but I have no horse.’
‘Fayre sir,’ seyde this wounded knyght, ‘take my horse, and than lette me go into this maner and delyver all thes presoners.’ So he toke sir Gaheris horse and prayde hym nat to be greved.
‘Nay, fayre lorde, I woll that ye have hym at your commaundemente, for ye have bothe saved me and my horse. And this day I sey ye ar the beste knyght in the worlde, for ye have slayne this day in my syght the myghtyeste man and the beste knyght excepte you that ever I sawe. But, fayre sir,’ seyde sir Gaherys, ‘I pray you telle me your name.’
‘Sir, my name is sir Launcelot du Lake that ought to helpe you of ryght for kynge Arthurs sake, and in especiall for my lorde sir Gawayne his sake, youre owne brother. And whan that ye com within yondir maner, I am sure ye shall fynde there many knyghtes of the Rounde Table; for I have sene many of their shyldys that I know hongys on yondir tre. There is sir Kayes shylde, and sir Brandeles shylde, and sir Galyhuddys shylde, and sir Bryan de Lystenoyse his shylde, and sir Alydukis shylde, with many me that I am nat now avysed of, and sir Marhaus, and also my too brethirne shyldis, sir Ector de Marys and sir Lyonell. Wherefore I pray you grete them all frome me and sey that I bydde them to take suche stuff there as they fynde, that in ony wyse my too brethirne go unto the courte and abyde me there tylle that I com, for by the feste of Pentecoste I caste me to be there; for as at thys tyme I muste ryde with this damesel for to save my promyse.’
And so they departed frome Gaherys; and Gaherys yode into the maner, and there he founde a yoman porter kepyng many keyes. Than sir Gaherys threw the porter unto the grounde and toke the keyes frome hym; and hastely he opynde the preson dore, and there he lette all the presoners oute, and every man lowsed other of their bondys. And whan they sawe sir Gaherys, all they thanked hym, for they wente that he had slayne sir Terquyne because that he was wounded.
‘Not so, syrs,’ seyde sir Gaherys, ‘hit was sir Launcelot that slew hym worshypfully with his owne hondys, and he gretys you all well and prayeth you to haste you to the courte. And as unto you, sir Lyonell and sir Ector de Marys, he prayeth you to abyde hym at the courte of kynge Arthure.’
‘That shall we nat do,’ seyde his bretherne. ‘We woll fynde hym and we may
lyve.’
‘So shall I,’ seyde sir Kay, ‘fynde hym or I com to the courte, as I am trew knyght.’
Than they sought the house thereas the armour was, and than they armed them; and every knyght founde hys owne horse and all that longed unto hym. So forthwith there com a foster with four horsys lade with fatte venyson. And anone sir Kay seyde, ‘Here is good mete for us for one meale, for we had not many a day no good repaste.’ And so that venyson was rosted, sodde, and bakyn; and so aftir souper som abode there all nyght. But sir Lyonell and sir Ector de Marys and sir Kay rode aftir sir Launcelot to fynde hym yf they myght.
Now turne we to sir Launcelot that rode with the damesel in a [10] fayre hygheway.
‘Sir,’ seyde the damesell, ‘here by this way hauntys a knyght that dystressis all ladyes and jantylwomen, and at the leste he robbyth them other lyeth by hem.’
‘What?’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘is he a theff and a knyght? And a ravyssher of women? He doth shame unto the Order of Knyghthode, and contrary unto his oth. Hit is pyté that he lyvyth! But, fayre damesel, ye shall ryde on before youreself, and I woll kepe myself in coverte; and yf that he trowble yow other dystresse you I shall be your rescowe and lerne hym to be ruled as a knyght.’
So thys mayde rode on by the way a souffte amblynge pace, and within a whyle com oute a knyght on horsebak owte of the woode and his page with hym. And there he put the damesell frome hir horse, and than she cryed. With that com sir Launcelot as faste as he myght tyll he com to the knyght, sayng, A, false knyght and traytoure unto knyghthode, who dud lerne the to distresse ladyes, damesels and jantyllwomen?’
Whan the knyght sy sir Launcelot thus rebukynge hym he answerde nat, but drew his swerde and rode unto sir Launcelot. And sir Launcelot threw his spere frome hym and drew his swerde, and strake hym suche a buffette on the helmette that he claffe his hede and necke unto the throte.
‘Now haste thou thy paymente that longe thou haste deserved!”That is trouth,’ seyde the damesell, ‘for lyke as Terquyn wacched to dystresse good knyghtes, so dud this knyght attende to destroy and dystresse ladyes, damesels and jantyllwomen; and his name was sir Perys de Foreste Savage.’
‘Now, damesell,’ seyde sir Launcelot ‘woll ye ony more servyse of me?’
‘Nay, sir,’ she seyde, ‘at thys tyme, but Allmyghty Jesu preserve you wheresomever ye ryde or goo, for the curteyst knyght thou arte, and mekyste unto all ladyes and jantylwomen that now lyvyth. But one thyng, sir knyght, methynkes ye lak, ye that ar a knyght wyveles, that ye woll nat love som mayden other jantylwoman. For I cowde never here sey that ever ye loved ony of no maner of degré, and that is grete pyté. But hit is noysed that ye love quene Gwenyvere, and that she hath ordeyned by enchauntemente that ye shall never love none other but hir, nother none other damesell ne lady shall rejoyce you; where fore there be many in this londe, of hyghe astate and lowe, that make grete sorow.’
‘Fayre damesell,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I may nat warne peple to speke of me what hit pleasyth hem. But for to be a weddyd man, I thynke hit nat, for than I muste couche with hir and leve armys and turnamentis, batellys and adventures. And as for to sey to take my pleasaunce with peramours, that woll I refuse: in prencipall for drede of God, for knyghtes that bene adventures sholde nat be advoutrers nothir lecherous, for than they be nat happy nother fortunate unto the werrys; for other they shall be overcom with a sympler knyght than they be hemself, other ellys they shall sle by unhappe and hir cursednesse bettir men than they be hemself. And so who that usyth peramours shall be unhappy, and all thynge unhappy that is aboute them.’
And so sir Launcelot and she departed. And than he rode in a depe foreste two dayes and more, and hadde strayte lodgynge. So on the thirde day he rode on a longe brydge, and there sterte uppon hym suddeynly a passyng foule carle. And he smote his horse on the nose, that he turned aboute, and asked hym why he rode over that brydge withoute lycence.
‘Why sholde I nat ryde this way?’ seyde sir Launcelotte, ‘I may not ryde besyde.’
‘Thou shalt not chose,’ seyde the carle, and laysshed at hym with a grete club shodde with iron. Than sir Launcelot drew his swerde and put the stroke abacke, and clave his hede unto the pappys.
And at the ende of the brydge was a fayre vyllage, and all peple, men and women, cryed on sir Launcelot and sayde, ‘Sir knyght, a worse dede duddyst thou never for thyself, for thou haste slayne the cheyff porter of oure castell.’ Sir Launcelot lete hem sey what they wolde, and streyte he rode into the castelle.
And whan he come into the castell he alyght and tyed his horse to a rynge on the walle. And there he sawe a fayre grene courte, and thydir he dressid hym, for there hym thought was a fayre place to feyght in. So he loked aboute hym and sye muche peple in dorys and in wyndowys that sayde, ‘Fayre knyghte, thou arte unhappy to com here!’
Anone withall there com uppon hym two grete gyauntis well [11] armed all save there hedys, with two horryble clubbys in their hondys. Sir Launcelot put his shylde before hym and put the stroke away of that one gyaunte, and with hys swerde he clave his hede in sundir. Whan his felowe sawe that, he ran away as he were woode, and sir Launcelot aftir hym with all his myght, and smote hym on the shuldir and clave hym to the navyll.
Than sir Launcelot wente into the halle, and there com afore hym three score of ladyes and damesels, and all kneled unto hym and thanked God and hym of his delyveraunce. ‘For,’ they seyde, ‘the moste party of us have bene here this seven yere presoners, and we have worched all maner of sylke workys for oure mete, and we are all grete jentylwomen borne. And blyssed be the tyme, knyght, that ever thou were borne, for thou haste done the moste worshyp that ever ded knyght in this worlde; that woll we beare recorde. And we all pray you to telle us your name, that we may telle oure frendis who delyverde us oute of preson.’
‘Fayre damesellys,’ he seyde, my name is sir Launcelot du Laake.’
‘A, sir,’ seyde they all, ‘well mayste thou be he, for ellys save yourself, as we demed, there myght never knyght have the bettir of thes jyauntis; for many fayre knyghtes have assayed, and here have ended. And many tymes have we here wysshed aftir you, and thes two gyauntes dredde never knyght but you.’
‘Now may ye sey,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘unto your frendys how and who hath delyverde you, and grete them all fro me; and yf that I com in ony of your marchys, shew me such chere as ye have cause. And what tresoure that there is in this castel I yeff hit you for a rewarde for your grevaunces. And the lorde that is the ownere of this castel, I wolde he ressayved hit as his ryght.’
‘Fayre sir,’ they seyde, ‘the name of this castell is called Tyntagyll, and a deuke ought hit somtyme that had wedded fayre Igrayne, and so aftir that she was wedded to Uther Pendragon, and he gate on hir Arthure.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I undirstonde to whom this castel longith.’ And so he departed frome them and betaught hem unto God.
And than he mounted uppon his horse and rode into many stronge countreyes and thorow many watyrs and valeyes, and evyll was he lodged. And at the laste by fortune hym happynd ayenste nyght to come to a fayre courtelage, and therein he founde an olde jantylwoman that lodged hym with goode wyll; and there he had good chere for hym and his horse. And whan tyme was his oste brought hym into a garret over the gate to his bedde. There sir Launcelot unarmed hym and set his harneyse by hym and wente to bedde, and anone he felle on slepe.
So aftir there com one on horsebak and knokked at the gate in grete haste. Whan sir Launcelot herde this he arose up and loked oute at the wyndowe, and sygh by the moonelyght three knyghtes com rydyng aftir that one man, and all three laysshynge on hym at onys with swerdys; and that one knyght turned on hem knyghtly agayne and defended hym. ‘Truly,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘yondir one knyght shall I helpe, for hit were shame for me to se three knyghtes on one, and yf he be there slayne I am partener of his deth.’
And therewith he toke his harneys and wente oute at a wyndowe by a shete downe to the four knyghtes. And than sir Launcelot sey
de on hyght, ‘Turne you, knyghtis, unto me, and leve this feyghtyng with that knyght!’ And than they three leffte sir Kay and turned unto sir Launcelot, and there beganne grete batayle, for they alyghte all three and strake many grete strokes at sir Launcelot and assayled hym on every honde.
Than sir Kay dressid hym to have holpen sir Launcelot. ‘Nay, sir,’ sayde he, ‘I woll none of your helpe. Therefore, as ye woll have my helpe, lette me alone with hem.’
Sir Kay for the plesure of that knyght suffyrd hym for to do his wylle and so stoode on syde. Than anone within seven strokys sir Launcelot had strykyn hem to the erthe. And than they all three cryed, ‘Sir knyght, we yelde us unto you as a man of myght makeles.’
‘As to that, I woll nat take youre yeldyng unto me, but so that ye woll yelde you unto thys knyght; and on that covenaunte I woll save youre lyvys, and ellys nat.’
‘Fayre knyght, that were us loth, for as for that knyght, we chaced hym hydir, and had overcom hym, had nat ye bene. Therefore to yelde us unto hym hit were no reson.’
‘Well, as to that, avyse you well, for ye may chose whether ye woll dye other lyve. For and ye be yolden hit shall be unto sir Kay.”Now, fayre knyght,’ they seyde, ‘in savyng of oure lyvys, we woll do as thou commaundys us.’
‘Than shall ye,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘on Whytsonday nexte commynge go unto the courte of kynge Arthure, and there shall ye yelde you unto quene Gwenyvere and putte you ail three in hir grace and mercy, and say that sir Kay sente you thydir to be her presoners.”Sir,’ they seyde, ‘hit shall be done, by the feyth of oure bodyes, and we be men lyvyng.’ And there they sware every knyght uppon his swerde, and so sir Launcelot suffyrd hem to departe.
And than sir Launcelot cnocked at the gate with the pomell of his swerde; and with that come his oste, and in they entyrd, he and sir Kay.
‘Sir,’ seyde his oste, ‘I wente ye had bene in your bed.’
‘So I was, but I arose and lepe oute at my wyndow for to helpe an olde felowe of myne.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 23