Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory

by Thomas Malory

  ‘Alas, false treson!’ seyde kynge Marke. ‘I wente that yonge traytoure had bene dede. Alas! whom may I truste?’

  And therewithall kynge Marke toke a swerde in his honde, and sought sir Sadoke from chambir to chambir to sle hym. Whan sir Sadoke saw kynge Marke com with his swerde in his honde, ‘Syr,’ he seyde, ‘beware, Marke, and com nat nyghe me! For wyte thou well that I saved Alysaundir his lyff, of the whyche I never repente me, for thou falsely and cowardly slew his fadir, prynce Bodwyne, traytourly for his good dedis. Wherefore I pray Allmyghty Jesu sende Alysaundir myght and power to be revenged uppon the. And now beware, kynge Marke, of yonge Alysaundir, for he is made a knyght.’

  ‘Alas,’ seyde kynge Marke, ‘that ever I sholde hyre a traytoure sey so afore me!’

  And therewith four knyghtes of kynge Markes drew their swerdis to sle sir Sadoke, but anone kynge Marke his knyghtes were slayne afore hym. And sir Sadoke paste forthe into his chambir, and toke his harneys and his horse and rode on his way, for there was nother sir Trystram, sir Dynas, nother sir Fergus that wolde sir Sadoke ony evyll wyll. Than was kynge Marke wood wrothe, and thought to destroy sir Alysaundir, for hym he dradde and hated moste of any man lyvynge.

  Whan sir Trystram undirstood that Alysaundir was made knyght, anone furthwithall he sent hym a lettir prayynge and chargynge hym that he draw hym to the courte of kynge Arthure, and that he put hym in the rule and in the hondis of sir Launcelot. So this lettyr was sente unto sir Alysaundir from his cousyne, sir Trystram, and at that tyme he thought to do after his commaundemente.

  Than kynge Marke called a knyght that brought hym the tydynges frome Alysaundir, and bade hym abyde stylle in that contrey.

  ‘Sir,’ seyde the knyght, ‘so muste I do, for in myn owne contrey dare I nat com.’

  ‘No force,’ seyde kynge Marke, ‘for I shall gyff the here double as muche londis as ever thou haddyste of thyne owne.’

  But within shorte space sir Sadoke mette wyth that false knyght and slew hym. Than was kynge Marke wood wrothe oute of mesure. Than he sente unto quene Morgan le Fay and to the quene of Northe Galys, prayynge them in his lettyrs that they two sorserers wolde sette all the contrey envyrone with ladyes that were enchauntours, and by suche that were daungerous knyghtes, as sir Malagryne and sir Brewnys Saunze Pyté, that by no meane Alysaundir le Orphelyne shulde never ascape, but other he sholde be takyn or slayne. And all this ordynaunce made kynge Marke to distroy sir Alysaunder.

  Now turne we unto sir Alysaundir, that at his departyng his modir [36] toke with hym his fadyrs blody sherte, and so he bare hit with hym tyll his deth day in tokenynge to thynke uppon his fadyrs deth.

  So was Alysaundir purposed to ryde to London, by the counceyle of sir Trystram, to sir Launcelot. And by fortune he wente aftir the seesyde, and rode wronge. And there he wan at a turnemente the gre, that kynge Carados made, and there he smote downe kynge Carados and twenty of his knyghtes, and also sir Saffir, a good knyght that was sir Palomydes brother.

  And all this sawe a damesell, and went to Morgan le Fay, and tolde hir how she saw the beste knyght juste that ever she sawe; and ever as he smote downe knyghtes, he made them to swere to were none harneyse of a twelve-monthe and a day.

  ‘This is well seyde,’ seyde Morgan le Fay, ‘for that is the knyght that I wolde fayne se.’

  And so she toke her palfrey and rode a grete whyle, and than she rested her in her pavylyon. So there cam four knyghtes, two of them were armed, and two were unarmed, and they tolde Morgan le Fay there namys. The fyrste was Elyas de Gomeret the secunde Car de Gomeret; the two were armed. And the other two were of Camylyarde, cousyns unto quene Gwenyver. And that one hyght sir Gye, and that othir hyght sir Garaunte; the two were unarmed. And this four knyghtes tolde Morgan le Fay how a yonge knyght had smyttyn them downe afore a castell.

  ‘For the maydyn of that castell seyde that he was but late made knyght, and yonge. But as we suppose, but yf hit were sir Trystram othir sir Launcelot other ellys sir Lameroke the good knyght, there is none that myght sytte hym a buffette with a speare.’

  ‘Well,’ seyde Morgan le Fay, ‘I shall mete wyth that knyght or hit be longe tyme and he dwelle in that contrey.’

  So turne we to the damesell of the castell, that whan Alysaundir le Orphelyne had forjusted the four knyghtes she called hym to her and seyde thus:

  ‘Sir knyght, wolte thou for my sake juste and fyght wyth a knyght of this contrey, that is and hath bene longe an evyll neyghboure to me? His name is sir Malegryne, and he woll nat suffir me to be maryde in no maner.’

  ‘Damesell,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘and he com the whyle that I am here, I woll fyght with hym.’

  And therewithall she sente for hym, for he was at her commaundemente. And whan ayther had a syght of other, they made hem redy for to juste. And so they cam togydyr egirly, and this sir Malegryne brused his speare uppon sir Alysaundir, and he smote hym agayne so harde that he bare hym quyte from his horse rto the erthel But this Malegryne devoyded, and lyghtly arose and dressed his shylde and drew his swerde, and bade hym alyght:

  ‘For wyte thou well, sir knyghte, thoughe thou have the bettir on horsebacke, thou shalt fynde that I shall endure the lyke a knyght on foote.’

  ‘Ye sey well!’ seyde sir Alysaundir. And so he avoyded his horse and bytoke hym to his varlet. And than they russhed togydyrs lyke two boorys, and leyde on their helmys and shyldis longe tyme by the space of three owrys, that never man coude sey whyche was the bettir knyght. And in the meanewhyle cam Morgan le Fay to the damesell of the castell, and they behylde the batayle.

  But this sir Malagryne was an olde rooted knyght, and he was called one of the daungerous knyghtes of the worlde to do batayle on foote, but on horsebacke there was many bettir. And ever this Malagryne awayted to sle sir Alysaundir, and so wounded hym wondirly sore that hit was mervayle that ever he myght stonde, for he had bled so muche; for this sir Alysaundir fought ever wyldely and nat wyttyly, and that othir was a felonous knyght and awayted hym, and smote hym sore. And somtyme they russhed togydyrs with their shyldis lyke two boorys other rammys, and felle grovelynge bothe to the erthe.

  ‘Now, sir knyght,’ seyde sir Malegryne, ‘holde thyne honde a whyle, and telle me what thou arte.’

  ‘That woll I nat,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘but yf me lyst well. But tell me thy name, and why thou kepyste thys contrey, other ellys thou shalt dye of my hondis.’

  ‘Sir, wyte thou well,’ seyde sir Malagryne, ‘that for this maydyns love, of this castell, I have slayne ten good knyghtes by myssehap, and by outerage and orgulyté of myself I have slayne othir ten knyghtes.’

  ‘So God helpe me,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘this is the fowlyste confession that ever I harde knyght make, and hit were pité that thou sholdiste lyve ony lenger. And therefore, kepe the! For, as I am a trewe knyght, other thou shalt sle me, other ellys I shall sle the!’

  Than they laysshed togydyrs fyersely. And at the laste sir Alysaundir smote hym to the erthe, and than he raced of his helme and smote of his hede. And whan he had done this batayle he toke his horse and wolde have mownted uppon his horse, but he myght nat for faynte. And than he seyde, ‘A, Jesu, succoure me!’

  So by that com Morgan le Fay and bade hym be of good comforte. And so she layde hym, this Alysaundir, in an horse-lettir, and so led hym into the castell, for he had no foote to stonde uppon the erthe; for he had sixtene grete woundis, and in especiall one of them was lyke to be his deth.

  Than quene Morgan le Fay serched his woundis and gaff hym [37] suche oynement that he sholde have dyed. And so on the morne whan she cam to hym agayne, he complayned hym sore. And than she put another oynemente uppon hym, and than he was oute of his payne.

  Than cam the damesell of the castell and seyde unto Morgan le Fay, ‘I pray you helpe me that this knyght myght wedde me, for he hath wonne me with his hondis.’

  ‘Ye shall se,’ seyde Morgan le Fay, ‘what I shall sey.’

  Than this quene Morgan le Fay wente to sir Alysaundir and bade hym i
n ony wyse that he shulde refuse this lady, ‘and she desyre to wed you; for she is nat for you’.

  So this damesell cam and desired of hym maryage.

  ‘Damesell,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘I thanke you, but as yet I caste me nat to mary in this contrey.’

  ‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘sytthyn ye woll nat mary me, I pray you, insomuche as ye have wonne me, that ye woll gyff me to a knyght of this contrey that hath bene my frende and loved me many yerys.’

  ‘Wyth all myne herte,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘I woll assente thereto.’

  Than was the knyght sente fore, and his name was sir Geryne le Grose. And anone he made them honde-faste and wedded them.

  Than cam quene Morgan le Fay to sir Alysaundir and bade hym aryse, and so put hym in an horse-lytter. And so she gaff hym sucche a drynke that of three dayes and three nyghtes he waked never, but slepte. And so she brought hym to hir owne castell that at that tyme was called La Beale Regarde. Than Morgan le Fay com to sir Alysaundir and axed hym yf he wolde fayne be hole.

  ‘Madame, who wolde be syke and he myght be hole?’

  ‘Well,’ seyde Morgan, ‘than shall ye promyse me by youre knyghthode that this twelve-monthe and a day ye shall nat passe the compace of this castell, and ye shall lyghtly be hole.’

  ‘I assent me,’ seyde sir Alysaundir.

  And there he made hir a promyse and was sone hole. And whan sir Alysaundir was hole, he repented hym of his othe, for he myght nat be revenged uppon kynge Marke.

  Ryght so there cam a damesell that was cousyn nyghe to the erle of Pase, and she was cousyn also unto Morgan le Fay; and by ryght that castell of La Beale Regarde sholde have bene hers by trew enherytaunce. So this damesell entyrd into this castell where lay sir Alysaundir, and there she founde hym uppon his bedde passynge hevy and all sad.

  ‘Sir knyght,’ seyde the damesell, ‘and ye wolde be myrry, I cowde tell you good tydyngis.’

  ‘Well were me,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘and I myght hyre of good tydynges, for now I stonde as a presonere be my promyse.’

  ‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘wyte you well that ye be a presonere and wors than ye wene, for my lady, my cousyn, quene Morgan, kepyth you here for none other entente but for to do hir plesure whan hit lykyth hir.’

  ‘A, Jesu defende me,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘frome suche pleasure! For I had levir kut away my hangers than I wolde do her ony suche pleasure!’

  ‘As Jesu me helpe,’ seyde the damesell, ‘and ye wolde love me and be ruled by me, I shall make your delyveraunce with your worship.’

  ‘Telle me now by what meane, and ye shall have my love.’

  ‘Fayre knyght,’ sayde she, ‘this castell ought of ryght to be myne. And I have an uncle the whiche is a myghty erle, and he is erle of the Pace; and of all folkis he hatyth moste Morgan le Fay. And I shall sende unto hym and pray hym for my sake to destroy this castell for the evyll customys that bene used therein, and than woll he com and sette fyre on every parte with wylde fyre. And so shall I gete you at a prevy postren, and there shall ye have your horse and your harneis.’

  ‘Fayre damesell, ye sey passynge well.’

  ‘And than may ye kepe the rome of this castell this twelve-monthe and a day, and than breke ye nat youre othe.’

  ‘Truly, fayre damesell,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘ye say sothe.’

  And than he kyssed hir and ded to her plesaunce as hit pleased them bothe at tymes and leysers.

  So anone she sente unto hir uncle and bade hym com to destroy that castell; for, as the booke seyth, he wolde have destroyed that castell aforetyme, had nat that damesell bene.

  Whan the erle undirstode hir letteris, he sente her worde on suche a day he wolde com and destroy that castell. So whan that day cam, sir Alysaundir yode to a postren where he sholde fle into the gardyne, and there he sholde fynde his armoure and his horse.

  So whan the day cam that was sette, thydir cam the erle of the Pase wyth four hondred knyghtes and sette on fyre all the partyes of the castell, that or they seased they leffte nat one stone stondynge.

  And all this whyle that this fyre was in the castell, he abode in the gardyne. And whan the fyre was done, he let crye that he wolde kepe that pyce of erthe, thereas the castell of La Beale Regarde was, a twelve-monthe and a day frome all maner of knyghtes that wolde com.

  So hit happed there was a deuke Aunsyrus, and he was of the kynne of sir Launcelot. And this knyght was a grete pylgryme, for every thirde yere he wolde be at Jerusalem; and bycause he used all his lyff to go in pylgrymage, men called hym deuke Aunserus the Pylgryme. And this deuke had a doughter that hyght Alys, that was a passynge fayre woman; and bycause of her fadir she was called Alys le Beall Pylgryme.

  And anone as she harde of this crye, she wente unto kyng Arthurs courte and seyde opynly, in hyrynge of many knyghtes, that what knyght may overcom that knyght that kepyth the pyce of erthe ‘shall have me and all my londis.’

  Whan knyghtes of the Rounde Table harde hir sey thus, many of them were glad, for she was passynge fayre and ryche, and of grete rentys.

  Ryght so she lete crye in castellys and townys as faste on her syde as sir Alysaundir ded on his syde. Than she dressed hir pavylion streyte by the pyese of erthe that sir Alysaundir kepte.

  So she was nat so sone there but there cam a knyght of kynge Arthurs courte that hyght sir Sagramour le Desyrous, and he profyrde to juste wyth sir Alysaundir. And so they encountyrd, and he bruse his speare uppon sir Alysaundir. But sir Alysaundir smote hym so sore that he avoyded his arson of his sadyll to the erthe.

  Whan La Beale Alys sawe hym juste so well, she thought hym a passyng goodly knyght on horsebacke. And than she lepe oute of hir pavylyon and toke sir Alysaundir by the brydyll, and thus she seyde: ‘Fayre knyght! Of thy knyghthode, shew me thy vysayge.’

  ‘That dare I well,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘shew my vysayge.’

  And than he put of his helme, and whan she sawe his vysage she seyde, ‘A, swete Fadir Jesu! The I muste love, and never othir.’

  Than shewe me youre vysage,’ seyde he.

  And anone she unwympeled her, and whan he sawe her he seyde, ‘A, Lorde Jesu! Here have I founde my love and my lady! And therefore, fayre lady, I promyse you to be youre knyght, and none other that beryth the lyff.’

  ‘Now, jantyll knyghte,’ seyde she, ‘telle me youre name.’

  ‘Madame, my name is sir Alysaundir le Orphelyne.’

  ‘A, sir,’ seyde she, ‘syth ye lyst to know my name, wyte you well my name is Alys la Beale Pellaron. And whan we be more at oure hartys ease, bothe ye and I shall telle of what bloode we be com.’

  So there was grete love betwyxt them.

  And as they thus talked, there cam a knyght that hyght sir Harleuse le Berbuse, and axed parte of sir Alysaundirs spearys. Than sir Alysaundir encountred with hym, and at the fyrste sir Alysaundir smote hym over his horse croupe. And than there cam another knyght that hyght sir Hewgon, and sir Alysaundir smote hym downe as he ded that othir. Than sir Hewgan profirde batayle on foote, and anone sir Alysaundir overthrewe hym within three strokys; and than he raced of his helme and there wolde have slayne hym, had he nat yelded hym. So than sir Alysaundir made bothe the knyghtes to swere to were none armour of a twelve-monthe and a day. Than sir Alysaundir alyght, and wente to reste hym and to repose hym.

  Than the damesell that halpe sir Alysaundir oute of the castell, in her play tolde Alys alltogydir how he was presonere in the castell of La Beall Regarde; and there she tolde her how she gate hym oute of preson.

  ‘Sir,’ seyde Alys la Beall Pillaron, ‘mesemyth ye ar muche beholdynge to this mayden.’

  ‘That is trouthe,’ seyde sir Alysaundir.

  And there Alys tolde of what bloode she was com, and seyde, ‘Sir, wyte you well that I am of the bloode of kynge Ban, that was fadir unto sir Launcelot.’

  ‘Iwys, fayre lady,’ seyde sir Alysaundir, ‘my modir tolde me my fadir was brothir unto a kynge, and I am nye cousyn unto sir Trystram.’

  So this meanewhyle cam t
hree knyghtes; that one hyght sir Vayns, and that other hyght Harvis le Marchis, and the thirde hyghte Peryne de la Mountayne. And with one speare sir Alysaundir smote them downe all three, and gaff them suche fallys that they had no lyst to fyght uppon foote. So he made them to swere to were none armys a twelve-monthe.

  So whan they were departed sir Alysaundir behylde his lady Alys on horsebak as she stoode in hir pavylion, and than was he so enamered uppon her that he wyst nat whether he were on horsebacke other on foote. Ryght so cam the false knyght sir Mordred and sawe sir Alysaundir was so afonned uppon his lady, and therewithall he toke hys horse by the brydyll and lad hym here and there, and had caste to have lad hym oute of that place to have shamed hym.

  So whan the damesell that halpe hym oute of that castell sawe how shamefully he was lad, anone she lete arme her and sette a shylde uppon her shuldir. And therewith she amownted uppon his horse and gate a naked swerde in hir honde, and she threste unto Alysaundir with all hir myght, and she gaff hym suche a buffet that hym thought the fyre flowe oute of his yghen.

  And whan sir Alysaundir felte that stroke he loked aboute hym and drew his swerde. And whan she sawe that, she fledde, and so ded sir Mordred into the foreyste. And the damesell fled into the pavylyon.

  So whan sir Alysaundir undirstood hymselff how the false knyght wolde have shamed hym had nat the damesell bene, than was he wroth with hymselff that sir Mordred had so ascaped his hondis. But than sir Alysaundir and his lady Alys had good game at the damesell, how sadly she smote hym uppon the helme.

  Than sir Alysaundir justed thus day be day, and on foote ded many batayles with many knyghtes of kynge Arthurs courte, and with many knyghtes straungers, that for to tell batayle by batayle hit were overmuche to reherse. For every day in that twelve-monthe he had to do wyth one knyght owther wyth another, and som day with three or four, and there was never knyght that put hym to the warre.

  And at the twelve-monthes ende he departed with his lady La Beall Pyllerowne. And that damesell wolde never go frome hym, and so they wente into their contrey of Benoy and lyved there in grete joy.