So in this meanewhyle there cam a varlet frome the courte of kynge Arthure and tolde hem of the grete turnemente that sholde be at Lonezep, and how this londis, Cornwayle and Nor the Galys, shulde juste ayenst all that wolde com of other contereyes.
Now turne we unto sir Trystram, that as he rode an-huntynge he [55] mette wyth sir Dynadan that was commyn into the contrey to seke sir Trystram. And anone sir Dynadan tolde sir Trystram his name, but sir Trystram wolde nat tell his name, wherefore sir Dynadan was wrothe.
‘For suche a folyshe knyght as ye ar,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘I saw but late this day lyynge by a welle, and he fared as he slepte. And there he lay lyke a foie grennynge and wolde nat speke, and his shylde lay by hym, and his horse also stood by hym. And well I wote he was a lovear.’
‘A, fayre sir,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘ar nat ye a lovear?’
‘Mary, fye on that crauffte!’ seyde sir Dynadan.
‘Sir, that is yevell seyde,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for a knyght may never be of proues but yf he be a lovear.’
‘Ye say well,’ seyde sir Dynadan. ‘Now I pray you telle me youre name, syth ye be suche a lovear; othir ellys I shall do batayle with you.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘hit is no reson to fyght wyth me but yf I telle you my name. And as for my name, ye shall nat wyte as at this tyme for me.’
‘Fye for shame! Ar ye a knyght and dare nat telle youre name to me? Therefore, sir, I woll fyght with you!’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I woll be avysed, for I woll nat do batayle but yf me lyste. And yf I do batayle wyth you,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘ye ar nat able to withstonde me.’
‘Fye on the, cowarde!’ seyde sir Dynadan.
And thus as they hoved stylle they saw a knyght com rydynge agaynste them.
‘Lo,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘se where commyth a knyght rydynge whyche woll juste wyth you.’
Anone as sir Dynadan behylde hym he seyde, ‘Be my fayth! That same is the doted knyght that I saw lye by the welle, nother slepynge nother wakynge.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I know that knyght well, wyth the coverde shylde of assure, for he is the kynges sonne of Northumbirlonde. His name is sir Epynogrys, and he is as grete a lover as I know, and he lovyth the kynges doughter of Walys, a full fayre lady. And now I suppose,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘and ye requyre hym, he woll juste wyth you, and than shall ye preve whether a lover be bettir knyght or ye that woll nat love no lady.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘now shalt thou se what I shall do.’ And therewythall sir Dynadan spake on hyght and sayde, ‘Sir knyght, make the redy to juste wythe me, for juste ye muste nedis, for hit is the custom of knyghtes arraunte for to make a knyght to juste, woll he othir nell he.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Epynogrys, ‘ys that the rule and custom of you?”As for that,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘make redy, for here is for me!’ And therewythall they spurred their horsys and mette togydirs so harde that sir Epynogrys smote downe sir Dynadan. And anone sir Trystram rode to sir Dynadan and sayde, ‘How now? Mesemyth the lover hath well sped.’
‘Fye on the, cowarde!’ seyde sir Dynadan. ‘And yf thou be a good knyght, revenge me!’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I woll nat juste as at this tyme, but take youre horse and let us go hens.’
‘God defende me,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘frome thy felyshyp, for I never spedde well syns I mette wyth the.’
And so they departed.
‘Well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘peraventure I cowde tell you tydynges of sir Trystram.’
‘Godde save me,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘from thy felyshyp! For sir Trystram were mykyll the warre and he were in thy company.’
And they departed.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘yet hit may happyn that I may mete wyth yow in othir placis.’
So rode sir Trystram unto Joyus Garde, and there he harde in that towne grete noyse and cry.
‘What is this noyse?’ seyde sir Trystram.
‘Sir,’ seyde they, ‘here is a knyght of this castell that hath be longe amonge us, and ryght now he is slayne with two knyghtes, and for none other cause but that oure knyght seyde that sir Launcelot was bettir knyght than sir Gawayne.’
‘That was a symple cause,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for to sle a good knyght for seyynge well by his maystir.’
‘That is lytyll remedy to us,’ seyde the men of the towne. ‘For and sir Launcelot had bene hyre, sone we sholde have bene revenged uppon the false knyghtes.’
Whan sir Trystram harde them sey so, he sente for his shylde and his speare. And lyghtly so wythin a whyle he had overtake them and made them turne and amende that they had myssedone.
‘What amendis woldiste thou have?’ seyde the one knyght.
And therewyth they toke there course, and aythir mette other so harde that sir Trystram smote downe that knyght over his horse tayle. Than the othir knyght dressed hym to sir Trystram, and in the same wyse he served the othir knyght. And than they gate of their horsis as well as they myght and dressed their swerdis and their shyldis to do batayle to the utteraunce.
‘Now, knyghtes,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘woll ye telle me of whens ye be and what is youre namys? For suche men ye myght be ye shulde harde ascape my hondis, and also ye myght be suche men and of suche a cuntré that for ail youre yevell dedis ye myght passe quyte.”Wyte thou well, sir knyght,’ seyde they, ‘we feare nat muche to telle the oure namys, for my name ys sir Aggravayne, and my name is sir Gaherys, brethirne unto the good knyght sir Gawayne, and we be nevewys unto kynge Arthure.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for kynge Arthurs sake I shall lette you passe as at this tyme. But hit is shame,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘that sir Gawayne and ye be commyn of so grete blood, that ye four bretherne be so named as ye be: for ye be called the grettyste distroyers and murtherars of good knyghtes that is now in the realme of Ingelonde. And as I have harde say, sir Gawayne and ye, his brethirne, amonge you slew a bettir knyght than ever any of you was, whyche was called the noble knyght sir Lamorak de Galys. And hit had pleased God,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I wolde I had bene by hym at his deth day.”Than shuldist thou have gone the same way,’ seyde sir Gaherys. ‘Now, fayre knyghtes, than muste there have bene many me good knyghtes than ye of youre bloode.’
And therewythall sir Trystram departed frome them towarde Joyus Garde. And whan he was departed they toke there horsis, and the tone seyde to the tothir, ‘We woll overtake hym and be revenged uppon hym in the despyte of sir Lamerok.’
[56] So whan they had overtakyn sir Trystram, sir Aggravayne bade hym, ‘Turne, traytoure knyght!’
‘Ye sey well!’ seyde sir Trystram.
And therewythall he pulled oute his swerde and smote sir Aggravayne suche a buffet uppon the helme that he tumbeled downe of his horse in a sowne, and he had a grevous wounde. And than he turned to sir Gaherys, and sir Trystram smote hys swerde and his helme togydir wyth suche a myght that sir Gaherys felle oute of his sadyll.
And so sir Trystram rode unto Joyus Garde, and there he alyght and unarmed hym. So sir Trystram tolde La Beall Isode of all this adventure as ye have harde toforne, and whan she harde hym tell of sir Dynadan, ‘Sir,’ she seyde, ‘is nat that he that made the songe by kynge Marke?’
‘That same is he,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for he is the beste bourder and japer that I know, and a noble knyght of his hondis, and the beste felawe that I know, and all good knyghtis lovyth his felyship.’
‘Alas, sir,’ seyde she, ‘why brought ye hym nat wyth you hydir?’
‘Have ye no care,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for he rydyth to seke me in this contrye, and therefore he woll nat away tyll he have mette wyth me.’
And there sir Trystram tolde La Beall Isode how sir Dynadan hylde ayenste all lovers.
Ryght so cam in a varlette and tolde sir Trystram how there was com an arraunte knyght into the towne wyth suche a coloures uppon his shylde.
‘Be my fayth, that is sir Dynadan,’ seyd
e sir Trystram. ‘Therefore, madame, wote ye what ye shall do: sende ye for hym, and I woll nat be seyne. And ye shall hyre the myrryeste knyght that ever ye spake wythall, and the maddyst talker. And I pray you hertaly that ye make hym good chere.’
So anone La Beall Isode sente unto the towne and prayde sir Dynadan that he wolde com into the castell and repose hym there wyth a lady.
‘Wyth a good wyll!’ seyde sir Dynadan.
And so he mownted uppon his horse and rode into the castell, and there he alyght and was unarmed and brought into the halle. And anone La Beall Isode cam unto hym and aythir salewed other. Than she asked hym of whens that he was.
‘Madame,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘I am of the courte of kynge Arthure, and a knyght of the Table Rounde, and my name is sir Dynadan.’
‘What do ye in this contrey?’ seyde La Beall Isode.
‘For sothe, madame, I seke after sir Trystram, the good knyght, for hit was tolde me that he was in this contrey.’
‘Hit may well be,’ seyde La Beall Isode, ‘but I am nat ware of hym.’
‘Madame,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘I mervayle at sir Trystram and me other suche lovers. What aylyth them to be so madde and so asoted uppon women?’
‘Why’, seyde La Beall Isode, ‘ar ye a knyght and ar no lovear? For sothe, hit is grete shame to you, wherefore ye may nat be called a good knyght by reson but yf ye make a quarell for a lady.’
‘God deffende me!’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘for the joy of love is to shorte, and the sorow thereof and what cometh thereof is duras over longe.’
‘A!’ sayde La Beall Isode, ‘say ye nevermore so, for hyre faste by was the good knyght sir Bleoberys de Galys that fought wyth three knyghtes at onys for a damesell, and he wan her afore the kynge of Northumbirlonde. And that was worshypfully done’, seyde La Beall Isode.
‘For sothe, hit was so,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘for I knowe him well for a good knyght and a noble, and comyn he is of noble bloode, and all be noble knyghtes of the blood of sir Launcelot de Lake.’
‘Now I pray you, for my love,’ seyde La Beall Isode, ‘wyll ye fyght for me wyth three knyghtes that doth me grete wronge? And insomuche as ye bene a knyght of kynge Arthurs, I requyre you to do batayle for me.’
Than sir Dynadan seyde, ‘I shall sey you ye be as fayre a lady as evir I sawe ony, and much fayrer than is my lady quene Gwenyver, but wyte you well, at one worde, I woll nat fyght for you wyth three knyghtes, Jesu me defende!’
Than Isode lowghe, and had a good game at hym. So he had all the chyre that she myght make hym, and there he lay all that nyght.
And on the morne early sir Trystram armed hym, and La Beall Isode gaff hym a good helme, and than he promysed her that he wolde mete wyth sir Dynadan. And so they two wolde ryde togedyrs unto Lone z ep, where the turnemente sholde be, and there shall I make redy for you, where ye shall se all the feyght.’
So departed sir Trystram wyth two squyers that bare his shylde and his speares that were grete and longe. So aftir that sir Dynadan departed and rode his way a grete shake untyll he had overtakyn sir Trystram. And whan sir Dynadan had overtakyn hym he knew hym anone, and hated the felyshyp of hym of all othir knyghtes.
‘A!’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘arte thou that cowherd knyght that I mette wyth yestirday? Well, kepe the! for thou shalt juste wyth me, magre thyne hede!’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘and I am passynge lothe to juste.’
And so they lette there horsis renne, and sir Trystram myste of hym a purpose, and sir Dynadan brake his speare al to shyvyrs. And therewythall sir Dynadan dressed hym to drawe oute his swerde.
‘Not so, sir,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘why ar ye so wrothe? I am nat disposid to fyght at this tyme.’
‘Fey on the, cowarde!’ seyde sir Dynadan. ‘Thou shamyste all knyghtes!’
As for that,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘I care nat, for I woll wayte uppon you and be undyr youre proteccion, for cause ye ar so good a knyght that ye may save me.’
‘God delyver me of the!’ seyde sir Dynadan. ‘For thou arte as goodly a man of armys and of thy persone as ever I sawe, and also the moste cowarde that ever I saw. What wolt thou do wyth grete spearys and suche wepen as thou caryeste with the?’
‘Sir, I shall yeff them,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘to som good knyght whan I com to the turnemente; and yf I se that you do beste, sir, I shall gyff them to you.’
So thus as they rode talkynge they saw where cam an arraunte knyght afore them that dressed hym to juste.
‘Lo,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘yondir is one that woll juste. Now dresse you to hym.’
‘A, shame betyde the!’ seyde sir Dynadan.
‘Nay, nat so,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘for that knyght semyth a shrewe.’
‘Than shall I,’ seyde sir Dynadan.
And so they dressed there shyldis and there spearys, and there they mett togydirs so harde that the othir knyght smote downe sir Dynadan frome his horse.
‘Lo,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘hit had bene bettir ye had lefft.’
‘Fye on the, cowarde!’ seyde sir Dynadan.
And than he sterte up and gate his swerde in his honde and proffyrd to do batayle on foote.
‘Whether in love other in wrathe?’ seyde the other knyght.
‘Sir, lat us do batayle in love,’ seyde sir Dynadan.
‘What is youre name?’ seyde that knyght. ‘I pray you telle me.”Sir, wyte you well my name is sir Dynadan.’
‘A, sir Dynadan,’ seyde that knyght, ‘and my name is sir Gareth, yongyst brothir unto sir Gawayne.’
Than aythir made of other grete chere, for this sir Gareth was the beste knyght of all the brethirne, and he preved a good knyght. Than they toke their horsys and there they spoke of sir Trystram, how suche a cowarde he was; and every worde sir Trystram harde, and lowgh them to scorne. Than were they ware where cam a knyght afore them well horsed and well armed, and he made hym redy to juste.
‘Now, fayre knyght,’ sayde sir Trystram, ‘loke betwyxte you who shall juste wyth yondir knyght, for I warne you I woll nat have ado wyth hym.’
‘Than shall I,’ seyde sir Gareth.
And so they encountyrd togydyrs, and there that knyght smote downe sir Gareth over his horse croupe.
‘How now?’ seyde sir Trystram unto sir Dynadan. ‘Now dresse you and revenge the good knyght sir Gareth.’
‘That shall I nat,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘for he hath strykyn downe a muche bygger knyght than I am.’
‘A, sir Dynadan,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘now I se and fele that youre harte faylyth you. And therefore now shall ye se what I shall do.’ And than sir Trystram hurtelyd unto that knyght and smote hym quyte frome his horse. And whan sir Dynadan saw that he mervayled gretly, and than he demed that hit was sir Trystram. And anone this knyght that was on foote pulled oute his swerde to do batayle.
‘Sir, what is youre name?’ seyde sir Trystram.
‘Wyte you well,’ seyde that knyght, ‘my name is sir Palomydes.’ A, sir knyght, whyche knyght hate ye moste in the worlde?’ seyde sir Trystram.
“For sothe,’ seyde he, ‘I hate sir Trystram moste to the deth, for and I may mete wyth hym the tone of us shall dye.’
‘Ye sey well,’ seyde sir Trystram. ‘And now wyte you well that my name is sir Trystram de Lyones, and now do your warste!’
Whan sir Palomydes saw hym sey so he was astoned, and than he seyde thus:
‘I pray you, sir Trystram, forgyff me all my evyll wyll! And yf I lyve I shall do you servyse afore all the knyghtes that bene lyvynge. And thereas I have owed you evyll wyil me sore repentes. I wote nat what eylyth me, for mesemyth that ye ar a good knyght; and that ony other knyght that namyth hymselff a good knyght sholde hate you, me sore mervaylyth. And there I requyre you, sir Trystram, take none displaysure at myne unkynde wordis.’
‘Sir Palomydes,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘ye sey well. And well I wote ye ar a good knyght, for I have seyne you preved, and many grete entirpryses ye have done and well enchyeved them. Therefore,’ seyde sir
Trystrams, ‘and ye have ony yevyll wyll to me, now may ye ryght hit, for I am redy at youre hande.’
‘Nat so, my lorde sir Trystram, for I woll do you knyghtly servyse in all thynge as ye woll commaunde me.’
‘Sir, ryght so I woll take you,’ seyde sir Trystram.
And so they rode forthe on their wayes talkynge of many thynges. Than seyde sir Dynadan, ‘A, my lorde sir Trystram! Fowle have ye mocked me, for God knowyth I came into this contrey for youre sake, and by the advyce of my lorde sir Launcelot, and yet wolde he nat tell me the sertaynté of you where I sholde fynde you.’
Truly,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘and sir Launcelot wyste beste where I was, for I abyde in his owne castell.’
And thus they rode untyll they were ware of the c a ste1 of [58] Lone z ep, and than were they ware of foure hondred tentes and pavelouns, and mervaylous grete ordynaunce.
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘yondir I se the grettyste ordynaunce that ever I sawe.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Palomydes, ‘mesemyth that there was as grete an ordynaunce at the Castell of Maydyns uppon the roche where ye wan the pryce, for I saw myself where ye forjusted thirty knyghtes.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Dynadan, ‘and in the Surluce, at the turnemente that sir Galahalte of the Longe Iles made, whyche there dured seven dayes; for there was as grete a gaderynge as is hyre, for there were many nacions.’
‘Syr, who was the beste there?’ seyde sir Trystram.
‘Sir, hit was sir Launcelot du Lake, and the noble knyght sir Lamerok de Galys.’
‘Be my fayth,’ seyde sir Trystram, and sir Launcelot were there, I doute nat,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘but he wan the worshyp, so he had nat bene overmacched wyth many knyghtes. And of the deth of sir Lamorak,’ seyde sir Trystram, ‘hit was over grete pité, for I dare say he was the clennyst-myghted man and the beste-wynded of his ayge that was on lyve. For I knew hym that he was one of the best knyghtes that ever I mette wythall but yf hit were sir Launcelot.”Alas,’ seyde sir Dynadan and sir Trystram, ‘that full we is us for his deth! And yf they were nat the cousyns of my lorde kynge Arthure that slew hym, they sholde dye for hit, all that were concentynge to his dethe.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 59