‘Now, sir,’ seyde this yonge knyght, ‘I requyre you and all the knyghtes of the courte that ye calle me none other name but La Cote Mele Tayle: insomuche that sir Kay hath so named me, so woll I be called.’
‘I assente me thereto,’ seyde the kynge.
And so the same day there cam a damesell into the courte, and she [2] brought wyth hir a grete blacke shylde with a whyght honde in the myddis holdynge a swerde, and other pyctoure was there none in that shylde. Whan kynge Arthure saw her he asked her from whens she cam and what she wolde.
‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘I have rydden longe and many a day with this shylde many wayes, and for this cause I am com to youre courte: for there was a good knyght that ought this shylde, and this knyght had undirtake a grete dede of armys to encheve hit. And so by myssefortune another stronge knyght mette with hym by suddeyne aventure, and there they fought longe, and aythir wounded othir passynge sore, and they were so wery that they lefft that batayle on evyn honde. So this knyght that ought the shylde sawe none other way but he muste dye, and than he commaunded me to bere this shylde to the courte of kyng Arthure, he requyrynge and prayynge som good knyght to take his shylde, and that he wolde fulfylle the queste that he was in.’
‘Now what sey ye to this queste?’ seyde kynge Arthure. ‘Is there here ony of you that woll take uppon you to welde this shylde?’
Than was there nat one that wolde speke a worde. Than sir Kay toke the shylde in his hondis and lyfft hit up.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde the damesell, ‘what is your name?’
‘Wete you well my name is sir Kay the Senesciall that wydewhere is knowyn.’
‘Sir,’ seyde the damesell, ‘lay downe that shylde, for wyte thou well hit fallyth nat for you, for he muste be a bettir knyght than ye that shall welde this chylde.’
‘Damesell,’ seyde sir Kay, ‘I toke youre shylde nat to that entente. But go whoso go woll, for I woll nat go with you.’
Than the damesell stood styll a grete whyle and behylde many of the knyghtes. Than spake this yonge knyght La Cote Male Tayle and seyde, ‘Fayre damesell, I woll take this shylde and the adventure uppon me, and I wyste whothirward my jurney myght be. For because I was this day made knyght I wolde take this adventure uppon me.”What is youre name, fayre yonge man?’ seyde the damesell.
‘My name is,’ he seyde, ‘La Cote Male Tayle.’
‘Well may thou be callyd so,’ seyde the damesell, the knyght wyth the evyll-shapyn coote. But and thou be so hardy to take on the to beare that shylde and to folowe me, wete thou well thy skynne shall be as well hewyn as thy cote.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir La Cote Male Tayle, ‘whan I am so hewyn I woll aske you no salff to heale me withall!’
And forthwithall there com into the courte two squyers and brought hym grete horsis and his armoure and spearys. And anone he was armed and toke his leve.
‘Sir, I woll nat,’ seyde the kynge, ‘be my wyll that ye toke uppon you this harde adventure.’
‘Sir,’ he seyde, ‘this adventure is myne, and the fyrste that ever I toke uppon, and that woll I folow whatsomever com of me.’
Than that damesell departed, and so sir La Cote Male Tayle faste folowed aftir. And within a whyle he overtoke the damesell, and anone she mysseseyde hym in the fowlyst maner.
, Than sir Kay ordayned sir Dagonet, kynge Arthurs foole, to folow aftir La Cote Male Tayle, and there sir Kay ordayned that sir Dagonet was horsed and armed, and bade hym folow sir La Cote Male Tayle and profyr hym to juste. And so he ded, and whan he sawe La Cote Male Tayle he cryed and bade make hym redy to juste. So sir La Cote Male Tayle smote sir Dagonet ovir his horse croupyr.
Than the damesell mocked La Cote Male Tayle and seyde, ‘Fye for shame! Now arte thou shamed in kynge Arthurs courte, whan they sende a foole to have ado with the, and specially at thy fyrste justys.’
Thus she rode longe and chydde. And so within a whyle there cam sir Bleoberys, the good knyght, and there he justed with sir La Cote Male Tayle. And there syr Bleoberys smote hym so sore that horse and all felle to the erthe. Than sir La Cote Male Tayle arose up lyghtly and dressed his shylde and drew his swerde, and a wolde have done batayle to the uttraunce, for he was woode wroth.
‘Nat so,’ seyde Bleoberys de Ganys, ‘as at this tyme I woll nat fyght uppon foote.’
Than the damesell Maledysaunte rebuked hym in the fowleste maner and bade hym ‘turne agayne, cowarde!’
‘A, damesell,’ seyde he, ‘I pray you of mercy to myssesay me no more, for my gryff is inow, though ye gryff me no more. Yet I calle me never the worse knyght, though a marys sonne hath fayled me, and also I counte myselff never the worse man for a falle of sir Bleoberys.’
So thus he rode with her two dayes, and by fortune there he encountred wyth sir Palomydes, the noble knyght, and in the same wyse sir Palomydes served hym as ded sir Bleoberys toforehonde. Than seyde the damesell, ‘What doste thou here in my felyship? For thou canste nat sytte no knyght nother wythstonde hym one buffette but yf hit were sir Dagonet.’
‘A, fayre damesell, I am nat the worse to take a falle of sir Palomydes. And yett grete dysworshyp have I none, for nother sir Bleoberys nother yett sir Palomydes woll not fyght with me on foote.’
‘As for that,’ seyde the damesell, ‘wete you welle they have disdayne and scorne to alyght of their horsis to fyght with suche a lewde knyght as thou arte.’
So in the meanewhyle there com sir Mordred, sir Gawaynes brother, and so he felle in felyshyp with the damesell Maledysaunte. And than they com before the Castell Orgulus, and there was suche a custom that there myght com no knyght by the castell but other he muste juste othir be presonere, othir at the leste to lose his horse and harneyse.
And there cam oute two knyghtes ayenste them, and sir Mordred justyd with the formyste, and that knyght of the castell smote sir Mordred downe of his horse. And than sir La Cote Male Tayle justed with that other, and ayther of hem smote downe other horsis to the erthe. And anone they avoyded their horsis and aythir of hem toke othirs horses.
And than sir La Cote Male Tayle rode unto that knyght that smote downe sir Mordred, and there La Cote Male Tayle wounded hym passynge sore and putte hym frome hys horse, and he lay as he had bene dede. So he turned unto hym that mette hym afore, and he toke the flyght towarde the castell, and sir La Cote Male Tayle rode aftir hym into the Castell Orgulus, and there sir La Cote Male Tayle slew hym.
[4] And anone there cam an hondred knyghtys aboute hym, and ali assayled hym. And whan he sawe hys horse sholde be slayne he alyght and voyded his horse, and so put hym oute of the gate. And whan he had so done he hurled in amonge them and dressed his backe untyll a ladyes chambir wall, thynkynge hymselff that he hadde lever dye there with worshyp than to abyde the rebukes of the Damesell Maledysaunte.
And so in the meanetyme, as he stood and fought, that lady that hylde that chambir wente oute slyly at a posterne, and withoute the gatys she founde sir La Cote Male Tayle his horse. And lyghtly she gate hym by the brydyll and tyed hym to the posterne, and than she yode unto her chambir slyly agayne for to beholde how that one knyght faught ayenst an hondred knyghtes.
And whan she had beholde hym longe she wente to a wyndow behynde his backe and seyde, Thou knyght that fyghtyst wondirly well, but for all that at the laste thou muste nedys dye but yf thou can thorow thy myghty prouesse wynne unto yondir posterne: for there have I fastened thy horse to abyde the. But wete thou welle thou muste thynke on thy worshyp and thynke nat to dye, for thou mayste nat wynne unto that posterne withoute thou do nobely and myghtyly.’
Whan sir La Cote Male Tayle harde her sey so he gryped his swerde in his honde and put his shylde fayre before hym, and thorow the thyckyst pres he thryled thorow. And whan he cam to the porsterne he founde there redy four knyghtes, and at two the fyrste strokys he slew two of the knyghtes and the other fledde, and so he wanne his horse and rode frome them.
And all hit was rehersed in kynge Arthurs courte, how he slew twelve knyghtes within the Castell Orgulus.
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And so he rode on his way, and in the meanewhyle the damesell seyde unto sir Mordred, ‘I wene my foolyssh knyght be othir slayne or takyn presonere.’ And than were they ware and saw hym com rydynge, and whan he was com to them he tolde all how he had spedde and escaped in the dispyte of all the castell, ‘and som of the beste of hem woll telle no talys.’
‘Thow gabbyst falsely,’ seyde the damesell, ‘that dare I make good! For as a foole and a dastarde to all knyghthode they have latte the passe.’
‘That may ye preve,’ seyde La Cote Male Tayle.
With that she sente a corroure of hers that allway rode with her, and so he rode thydir lyghtly and spurred how and in what wyse that knyght ascaped oute of that castell. Than all the knyghtes cursed hym and seyde he was a fende and no man, ‘for he hath slayne here twelve of oure beste knyghtis, and we went unto this day that hit had bene to muche for sir Trystrames de Lyones othir for sir Launcelot de Lake. And in dyspyte and magré of us all he is departed frome us.’
And so hir curroure com agayne and tolde the damesell all how sir La Cote Male Tayle spedde at the Castell Orgulus. Than she smote downe the hede and seyde but lytyll.
‘Be my hede,’ seyde sir Mordred to the damesell, ‘ye ar gretly to blame so to rebuke hym, for I warne you playnly he is a good knyght, and I doute nat but he shall preve a noble man. But as yette he may nat sytte sure on horsebacke, for he that muste be a good horseman hit muste com to usage and excercise. But whan he commyth to the strokis of his swerde he is than noble and myghty. And that saw sir Bleoberys and sir Palomydes; for wete you well they were wyly men of warre, for they wolde know anone, whan they sye a yonge knyght, by his rydynge, how they were sure to gyffe hym a falle frome his horse othir a grete buffett. But for the moste party they wyll nat lyght on foote with yonge knyghtes, for they ar myghtyly and strangely armed.
‘For in lyke wyse syr Launcelot du Lake, whan he was fyrste made knyght, he was oftyn put to the worse on horsebacke, but ever uppon foote he recoverde his renowne and slew and defowled many knyghtes of the Rounde Table. And therefore the rebukes that sir Launcelot ded unto many knyghtes causyth them t hat be men of prouesse to beware, for oftyn tyme I have seyne the olde preved knyghtes rebuked and slayne by them that were but yonge begynners.’
Thus they rode sure talkyng by the wey togydyrs.
HERE THIS TALE OVERLEPYTH A WHYLE UNTO SIR LAUNCELOTT, [5] that whan he was com to the courte of kynge Arthure than harde he telle of the yonge knyghte sir La Cote Maie Tayle, how he slew the lyon and how he toke uppon hym the adventures of the blacke shylde, whyche was named at that tyme the hardyest adventure of the worlde.
‘So God me save!’ seyde sir Launcelot unto many of his felowys. ‘Hit was shame to all the good noble knyghtes to suffir suche a yonge knyght to take so hyghe adventure on hym for his distruccion. For I woll that ye wyte,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that this damesell Maledysaunte hath borne that shylde many a day for to seche the moste preved knyghtes. And that was she that sir Breunys Saunze Pité toke the shylde frome, and aftir sir Trystrames de Lyones rescowed that shylde frome hym and gaff hit to the damesell agayne, a lytyll afore that tyme that sir Trystrames faught with my nevew Blamoure de Ganys for a quarell that was betwyxte the kynge of Irelonde and hym.’
Than many knyghtes were sory that sir La Cote Male Tayle was gone forthe to that adventure.
‘Truly,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I caste me to ryde aftir hym.’
And so within seven dayes sir Launcelot overtoke sir La Cote Male Tayle, and than he salewed hym and the damesell Maledysaunte. And whan sir Mordred saw Launcelot, than he leffte their felyship, and so sir Launcelot rode with hem all a day. And ever that damesell rebuked sir La Cote Male Tayle, and than sir Launcelot answerde for hym. Than she leffte of and rebuked sir Launcelot.
So thys meanetyme sir Trystramys sente by a damesell a lettir unto sir Launcelot, excusynge hym of the weddynge of Isod le Blaunche Maynes, and seyde in the lettir, as he was a trew knyght, he had never ado fleyshly with Isode le Blaunche Maynys. And passyng curteysly and jantely sir Trystrames wrote unto sir Launcelot, ever besechynge hym to be hys good frende and unto La Beall Isod of Cornwayle, and that sir Launcelot wolde excuse hym if that ever he saw her. And within shorte tyme, by the grace of God, sir Trystramys seyd that he wolde speke with La Beall Isode and with hym ryght hastyly.
Than sir Launcelot departed frome the damesell and frome sir La Cote Male Tayle for to overse that lettir and to wryte another lettir unto sir Trystram.
And in the meanewhyle sir La Cote Male Tale rode with the damesel untyll they cam to a castell that hyght Pendragon. And there were six knyghtes that stood afore hym and one of them profirde to fyght or to juste with hym. And so sir La Cote Male Tayle smote hym over hys horse croupe. And than the fyve knyghtes sette uppon hym all at onys with their spearys, and there they smote La Cote Male Tayle downe horse and man. And than they ded alyght suddeynly and sette their hondis uppon hym all at onys and toke hym presonere, and so led hym unto the castell and kepte hym as presonere.
And on the morne sir Launcelot arose and delyverde the damesell with lettirs unto sir Trystram, and than he toke hys way aftir sir La Cote Male Tayle. And by the way uppon a brydge there was a knyght that profirde sir Launcelot to juste, and sir Launcelot smote hym downe. And than they faught uppon foote a noble batayle togydirs and a myghty, and at the laste sir Launcelot smote hym downe grovelynge uppon hys hondys and hys kneys. And than that knyght yelded hym, and sir Launcelot resseyved hym fayre.
‘Sir,’ seyde the knyght, ‘I requyre you telle me youre name, for muche my harte yevith unto you.’
‘Nay,’ seyd sir Launcelot, ‘as at thys tyme I woll nat telle you my name onles that ye telle me youre name.’
‘Sertaynly,’ seyde the knyght, ‘my name ys sir Neroveus, that was made knyght of my lorde sir Launcelot du Lake.’
‘A, sir Neroveus de Lyle!’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I am ryght glad that ye ar proved a good knyght, for now wyte you well my name ys sir Launcelot.’
‘Alas!’ seyde sir Neroveus, ‘what have I done!’ And therewithall he felle flatlynge to his feete and wolde have kyste them, but sir Launcelot wolde nat suffir hym. And than aythir made grete joy of other, and than sir Neroveus tolde sir Launcelot that he sholde nat go by the Castell of Pendragon, ‘for there ys a lorde, a myghty knyght, and many myghty knyghtes with hym, and thys nyght I harde sey that they toke a knyght presonere that rode with a damesell, and they sey he ys a knyght of the Rounde Table.’
‘A,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that knyght ys my felow, and hym shall [6] I rescowe and borow, or ellis lose my lyff therefore.’
And therewithall he rode faste tyll he cam before the Castell of Pendragon. And anone therewithall there cam six knyghtes, and all made hem redy to sette uppon sir Launcelot at onys. Than sir Launcelot feautryd his speare and smote the formyst, that he brake his bak in sonder, and three of them smote hym and three fayled. And than sir Launcelot past thorow them, and lyghtly h e torned in ageyne and smote anothir knyght thorow the brest and thorowoute the back more than an elle, and therewithall his speare brak. Soo than all the remenaunte of the four knyghtes drewe their swerdes and lasshed at sir Launcelot, and at every stroke sir Launcelot bestowed so his strokis that at four strokis sundry they avoyded their sadyls passynge sore wounded, and furthwithal he rode hurlynge into the castell.
And anone the lorde of that castell which was called sir Bryan de Les Iles, which was a noble man and a grete enemy to kynge Arthure, so within a whyle he was armed and on horsebacke. And than they feautred their spearis and hurled togydirs so strongly that bothe their horsys russhed to the erthe. And than they avoyded their sadyls and dressed their shyldis and drew their swerdis and flowe togydirs as wood men, and there were many strokis a whyle.
At the laste sir Launcelot gaff sir Bryan such a buffette that he kneled uppon hys knees, and than sir Launcelot russhed uppon hym with grete force and pulled of his helme. And whan sir Bryan sy that he sholde be slayne he yelded
hym and put hym in hys mercy and in hys grace.
Than sir Launcelot made hym to delyver all hys presoners that he had within hys castell, and therein sir Launcelot founde of kynge Arthurs knyghtes thirty knyghtes and forty ladyes. And so he delyverde hem, and dian he rode his way. And anone as sir La Cote Male Tayle was delyverde, he gate his horse and hys harneyse and hys damesell Maledysaunte.
The meanewhyle sir Neroveus, that sir Launcelot had foughtyn withall before at the brydge, he sente a damesell aftir sir Launcelot to wete how he had spedde at the castell of Pendragon. And than they in the castell mervey led what knyght he was that was there when sir Bryan and his knyghtes delyverde all the presoners.
‘Syr, have ye no merveile,’ seyde the damesell, ‘for the beste knyght in this world was here and ded thys jurnay, and wyte ye wel,’ she said, ‘hit was sir Launcelot.’
Than was sir Bryan full glad, and so was his lady and all hys knyghtes, that he sholde wynne them. And whan the dame sell and sir La Cote Male Tayle understood that hit was sir La uncelot that had rydden with hem in felyship, and that she reme mbirde her how she had rebuked hym and called hym cowarde, than she was passyng hevy.
So than they toke their horsis and rode forthe a greate pace aftir [7] sir Launcelot, and within two myle they overtoke hym, and salewed hym and thanked hym. And anone the damesell cryed sir Launcelot mercy of hir evyll dede, and seyyng, ‘For now I know ye ar the floure of all knyghthode of the worlde, and sir Trystram departe hit even betwene you. For God knowith, be my good wyll,’ seyde the damesell, ‘that I have sought you, my lorde sir Launcelot, and sir Trystrams longe, and now I thanke God I have mette with you. And onys at Camelot I mette with sir Trystrams, and there he rescowed thys blacke shylde with the whyght honde holdyng a naked swerde that sir Brewnys Saunz Pité had takyn frome me.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 40