And wythin a whyle sir Agglovale had sir Goodwyne at the erthe, and there he unlaced hys helme and strake of hys hede. And than they departed and toke their horsys; and than they let cary the dede squyar unto a pryory, and there they entered hym.
And whan thys was done they rode in many contreys ever inquyrynge aftir sir Launcelot. But they coude never hyre of hym. And at the laste they com to a castell that hyght Cardycan, and there sir Percyvale and sir Agglovale were lodged togydyrs. And prevaly, aboute mydnyght, sir Percyvale com to sir Agglovales squyar and seyde, Aryse and make the redy, for ye and I woll ryde away secretely.”Sir,’ seyde the squyar, ‘I wolde full fayne ryde with you where ye wolde have me, but and my lorde, youre brother, take me he woll sle me.’
‘As for that, care not, for I shall be youre warraunte.’
And so sir Percyvale rode tyll hyt was aftir none, and than he cam uppon a brydge of stone, and there he founde a knyght whyche was bounden wyth a chayne faste aboute the waste unto a pylloure of stone.
‘A, my fayre knyght,’ seyde that boundyn knyght, ‘I requyre the of knyghthode, lowse my bondys of!’
‘Sir, what knyght ar ye?’ seyde sir Percyvale. ‘And for what cause ar ye bounden?’
‘Sir, I shall telle you,’ seyde that knyght. ‘I am a knyght off the Table Rounde, and my name ys sir Persydes. And thus by adventure I cam thys way, and here I lodged in thys castell at the brydge foote. And therein dwellyth an uncurteyse lady, and bycause she proffyrd me to be her paramoure and I refused her, she sette her men uppon me suddeynly or ever I myght com to my wepyn. Thus they toke me and bounde me, and here I wote well I shall dye but yf som man of worshyp breke my bondys.’
‘Sir, be ye of good chere!’ seyde sir Percyvale. ‘And bycause ye ar a knyght of the Rounde Table as well as I, I woll truste to God to breke youre bondys.’
And therewyth sir Percyvale pulled oute hys swerde and strake at the chayne wyth suche a myght that he cutte a-to the chayne and thorow sir Parsydes hawbirke, and hurte hym a lytyll.
A, Jesu!’ seyde sir Parsydes, ‘that was a myghty stroke as ever I felte of mannes hande! For had nat the chayne be, ye had slayne me.’
And therewithall sir Parsydes saw a knyght whyche cam oute of the castell as faste as ever he myght flynge.
‘Sir, beware! For yondyr commyth a knyght that woll have ado with you.’
‘Lat hym com!’ seyde sir Percyvale.
And so mette that knyght in myddys the brydge, and sir Percyvale gaff hym suche a buffette that he smote hym quyte frome hys horse and over a parte of the brydge, that and there had nat bene a lytyll vessell undir the brydge, that knyght had bene drowned. And than sir Percyvale toke the knyghtes horse and made sir Persydes to mounte uppon hym. And so they two rode unto the castell and bade the lady delyver sir Persydes servauntys, othir ellys he wolde sle all that ever he founde. And so for feare she delyverde them all. Than was sir Percyvale ware of a lady that stoode in that towre.
A, madame,’ seyde sir Percyvale, ‘what use and custom ys that in a lady to destroy good knyghtes but yf they woll be youre paramour? Perdé, this is a shamefull custom of a lady, and yf I had nat a grete mater to do in my honde I shulde fordo all youre false customys!’
And so sir Parsydes brought sir Percyvale unto hys owne castell, and there he made hym grete chere all that nyght. And on the morne, whan sir Percyvale had harde a masse and broke hys faste, he bade sir Parsydes ryde unto kynge Arthure:
‘And telle ye the kynge how that ye mette wyth me, and telle you my brother, sir Agglovale, how I rescowed you. And byd hym seke nat aftir me, for I am in the queste to syke sir Launcelot du Lake. And thoughe he seke me, he shall nat fynde me. And tell hym I woll never se hym nothir the courte tylle that I have founde sir Launcelot. Also telle sir Kay the Senescyall and syr Mordred that I truste to Jesu to be of as grete worthynes as aythir of them, for tell them that I shall never forgete their mokkys and scornys that day that I was made knyght; and telle them I woll never se that courte tylle men speke more worshyp of me than ever they ded of ony of them bothe.’ And so sir Parsydes departed frome sir Percyvale, and than he rode unto kynge Arthure and tolde of sir Percyvale. And whan sir Agglovale harde hym speke of hys brothir sir Percyvale, ‘Forsothe,’ he seyde, ‘he departed fro me unkyndly.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Persydes, on my lyff, he shall preve a noble knyght [13] as ony now ys lyvynge.’
And whan he saw sir Kay and sir Mordred, sir Parsydes sayde thus:
‘My fayre lordys, sir Percyvale gretyth you well bothe, and he sente you worde by me that he trustyth to God or ever he com to courte agayne to be of as grete nobles as ever were you bothe, and me men to speke of his noblenesse than ever spake of youres.”Hyt may well be,’ seyde sir Kay and sir Mordred, ‘but at that tyme he was made knyght he was full unlykly to preve a good knyght.’
As for that,’ seyde kynge Arthure, ‘he muste nedys preve a good knyght, for hys fadir and hys bretherne were noble knyghtes all.’ And now woll we turne unto sir Percyvale that rode longe. And in a foreyste he mette wyth a knyght wyth a brokyn shylde and a brokyn helme. And as sone as aythir saw other they made them redy to juste, and so they hurled togydyrs wyth all the myghtes of their horses, and they mette togydyrs so hard that sir Percyvele was smyttyn to the erthe. And than sir Percyvale arose delyverly, and keste hys shylde on hys shuldir and drew hys swerde, and bade the other knyght alyght and do batayle unto the uttirmuste.
‘Well, sir, wyll ye more yet?’ seyde that knyght.
And therewyth he alyght, and put hys horse from hym. And than they cam togydir an easy pace and laysshed togydyrs with noble swerdys. And somtyme they stroke and sometyme they foyned, that ayther gaff other many sad strokys and woundys. And thus they faught nerehande halffe a day and never rested but lytyll, and there was none of them bothe that hadde leste woundys but he had fyftene, and they bledde so muche that hyt was mervayle they stoode on their feete. But thys knyght that faught wyth sir Percyvale was a proved knyght and a wyse-fyghtynge knyght, and sir Percyvale was yonge and stronge, nat knowynge in fyghtynge as the othir was. Than sir Percyvale spake fyrste and seyde, ‘Sir knyght, holde thy honde a whyle, for we have foughtyn over longe for a symple mater and quarell. And therefore I requyre the tell me thy name, for I was never ar thys tyme thus macched.’
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde that knyght, ‘and never or this tyme was there never knyght that wounded me so sore as thou haste done, and yet have I foughtyn in many batayles. And now shall thou wyte that I am a knyght of the Table Rounde, and my name ys sir Ector de Marys, brother unto the good knyght sir Launcelot du Lake.’
‘Alas!’ sayde sir Percyvale, ‘and my name ys sir Percyvale de Galys whyche hath made my queste to seke sir Launcelott. And now am I syker that I shall never fenyshe my queste, for ye have slayne me with youre hondys.’
‘Hit is nat so,’ seyde sir Ector, ‘for I am slayne by youre hondys, and may not lyve. And therefore I requyre you,’ seyde sir Ector unto sir Percyvale, ‘ryde ye here faste by to a pryory, and brynge me a preste, that I may resseyve my Savyoure, for I may nat lyve. And whan ye com to the courte of kynge Arthure tell nat my brother, sir Launcelot, how that ye slew me, for than woll he be youre mortall enemy, but ye may sey that I was slayne in my queste as I sought hym.’
‘Alas!’ seyde sir Percyvale, ‘ye sey that thynge that never woll be, for I am so faynte for bledynge that I may unnethe stonde. How sholde I than take my horse?’
Than they made bothe grete dole oute of mesure. [14]
‘This woll nat avayle,’ seyde sir Percyvale. And than he kneled downe and made hys prayer devoutely unto Allmyghty Jesu, for he was one of the beste knyghtes of the worlde at that tyme, in whom the verrey fayth stoode moste in.
Ryght so there cam by the holy vessell, the Sankegreall, wyth all maner of swetnesse and savoure, but they cowde nat se redyly who bare the vessell. But sir Percyvale had a glemerynge of the vessell and of the mayden that bare hit, for he was a parfyte mayden. And furthwithall they were as ho
le of hyde and lymme as ever they were in their lyff. Than they gaff thankynges to God with grete myldenesse.
‘A, Jesu!’ seyde sir Percyvale, ‘what may thys meane, that we be thus heled, and ryght now we were at the poyynte of dyynge?’
‘I woote full well,’ seyde sir Ector, ‘what hit is. Hit is an holy vessell that is borne by a mayden, and therein ys a parte of the bloode of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste. But hit may nat be sene,’ seyde sir Ector, ‘but yff hit be by an holy man.’
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde sir Percyvale, ‘I saw a damesell, as me thought, all in whyght, with a vessell in bothe her hondys, and furthwithall I was hole.’
So than they toke their horsys and their harneys, and mended hyt as well as they myght that was brokyn; and so they mounted up and rode talkynge togydyrs. And there sir Ector de Marys tolde sir Percyvale how he had sought hys brother, sir Launcelot, longe, and never cowde hyre wytynge of hym: ‘In many harde adventures have I bene in thys queste!’ And so aythir tolde othir of there grete adventures.
XII. [1] And now leve we of a whyle of sir Ector and of sir Percyvale, and speke we of sir Launcelot that suffird and endured many sharpe showres, that ever ran wylde woode frome place to place, and lyved by fruyte and suche as he myght gete and dranke watir two yere.
And other clothynge had he but lytyll, but in his shurte and his breke, thus as sir Launcelott wandred here and there, he cam into a fayre medow where he founde a pavelon. And thereby uppon a tre hynge a whyght shylde, and two swerdys hynge thereby, and two spearys lened thereby to a tre. And whan sir Launcelot saw the swerdys, anone he lepte to the tone swerde, and clyched that swerde in hys honde and drew hitte oute. And than he laysshed at the shylde, that all the medow range of the dyntys, that he gaff such a noyse as ten knyghtes hadde fought togydyrs.
Than cam furth a dwarff, and lepe unto sir Launcelot, and wolde have had the swerde oute of his honde. And than sir Launcelot toke hym by the bothe shuldrys and threw hym unto the grounde, that he felle uppon hys nek and had nygh brokyn hit. And therewythall the dwarff cryede helpe.
Than there com furth a lykly knyght and well apparaylede in scarlet furred with menyvere. And anone as he saw sir Launcelot he demed that he shulde be oute of hys wytte, and than he seyde wyth fayre speche, ‘Good man, ley downe that swerde! For as me semyth thou haddyst more nede of a slepe and of warme clothis than to welde that swerde.’
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘com nat to nyghe, for and thou do, wyte thou well I woll sle the!’
And whan the knyght of the pavylon saw that, he starte bakwarde into hys pavylon. And than the dwarffe armed hym lyghtly, and so the knyght thought by force and myght to have takyn the swerde fro sir Launcelot. And so he cam steppynge uppon hym, and whan sir Launcelot saw hym com so armed wyth hys swerde in hys honde, than sir Launcelot flowghe to hym wyth suche a myght, and smote hym uppon the helme suche a buffet, that the stroke troubled his brayne, and therewythall the swerde brake in three. And the knyght felle to the erthe and semed as he had bene dede, the bloode brastynge oute of his mowthe, nose, and eares.
And than sir Launcelot ran into the pavelon, and russhed evyn into the warme bedde. And there was a lady that lay in that bedde; and anone she gate her smokke, and ran oute of the pavylon, and whan she sawe her lorde lye at the grounde lyke to be dede, than she cryed and wepte as she had bene madde. And so wyth her noyse the knyght awaked oute of his sowghe, and loked up weykly wyth his yen.
And than he asked where was that madde man whyche had yevyn hym suche a buffette, ‘for suche a one had I never of mannes honde!’
‘Sir,’ seyde the dwarff, ‘hit is nat youre worshyp to hurte hym, for he ys a man oute of his wytte; and doute ye nat he hath bene a man of grete worshyp, and for som hartely sorow that he hath takyn he ys fallyn madde. And mesemyth,’ seyde the dwarff, ‘that he resembelyth muche unto sir Launcelot, for hym I sawe at the turnemente of Lonezep.’
‘Jesu defende,’ seyde that knyght, ‘that ever that noble knyght, sir Launcelot, sholde be in suche a plyght! But whatsomever he be,’ seyde that knyght, ‘harme woll I none do hym.’
And this knyghtes name was sir Blyaunte, the whyche seyde unto the dwarff, ‘Go thou faste on horsebak unto my brother, sir Selyvaunte, whyche ys in the castell Blanke, and telle hym of myne adventure, and byd hym brynge wyth hym an horse-lytter. And than woll we beare thys knyght unto my castell.’
So the dwarff rode faste, and he cam agayn and brought sir Sely[2] vaunte wyth hym, and six men wyth an horse-lytter. And so they toke up the fethir bedde wyth sir Launcelot, and so caryed all away wyth hem unto the castell Blanke, and he never awaked tylle he was wythin the castell. And than they bounde hys handys and hys feete, and gaff hym good metys and good drynkys, and brought hym agayne to hys strengthe and his fayrenesse. But in hys wytte they cowde nat brynge hym, nother to know hymselff. And thus was sir Launcelot there more than a yere and an halff, honestely arayed and fayre faryn wythall.
Than uppon a day thys lorde of that castell, sir Blyaunte, toke hys armys on horsebak wyth a speare to seke adventures. And as he rode in a foreyste there mette hym to knyghtes adventures: that one was sir Brewnys Saunze Pité, and hys brother, sir Bartelot. And thes two ran bothe at onys on sir Bleaunte and brake theyre spearys uppon hys body. And than they drewe there swerdys and made grete batayle, and foughte longe togydyrs. But at the laste sir Blyaunte was sore wounded and felte hymselffe faynte, and anone he fledde on horsebak towarde hys castell.
And as they cam hurlyng undir the castell, there was sir Launcelot at a wyndow, and saw how two knyghtes layde uppon sir Blyaunte wyth there swerdys. And whan sir Launcelot saw that, yet as woode as he was he was sory for hys lorde, sir Blyaunte. And than in a brayde sir Launcelot brake hys chaynes of hys leggys and of hys armys, and in the breakynge he hurte hys hondys sore; and so sir Launcelot ran oute at a posterne, and there he mette wyth the two knyghtes that chaced syr Blyaunte. And there he pulled downe sir Bartelot wyth his bare hondys frome hys horse, and therewythall he wrothe oute the swerde oute of hys honde, and so he lepe unto sir Brewse and gaff hym suche a buffette upon the hede that he tumbeled bakwarde over hys horse croupe.
And whan sir Bartelot saw hys brother have suche a buffet he gate a speare in hys honde, and wolde have renne sir Launcelot thorow. And that saw sir Blyaunte and strake of the hande of sir Bartelot. And than sir Brewse and sir Bartelot gate there horsis and fledde away as faste as they myght.
So whan sir Selyvaunte cam and saw what sir Launcelot had done for hys brother, than he thanked God, and so ded hys brother, that ever they ded hym ony good. But whan sir Blyaunte sawe that sir Launcelot was hurte wyth the brekynge of hys irons, than was he hevy that ever he bounde hym.
‘I pray you, brother, sir Selyvaunte, bynde hym no more, for he ys happy and gracyous.’
Than they made grete joy of sir Launcelot and they bounde hym no more. And so he bode thereafftir an halff yere and more.
And so on a morne sir Launcelot was ware where cam a grete bore wyth many houndys afftir hym, but the boore was so bygge ther myght no houndys tary hym. And so the hunters cam aftir, blowynge there hornys, bothe uppon horsebacke and som uppon foote, and than sir Launcelot was ware where one alyght and tyed hys horse tylle a tre and lened hys speare ayenst the tre. So there [3] cam syr Launcelot and founde the horse, and a good swerde tyed to the sadyll bowe, and anone sir Launcelot lepe into the sadyll and gate that speare in hys honde, and than he rode faste aftir the boore.
And anone he was ware where he sate, and his ars to a roche, faste by an ermytayge. And than sir Launcelot ran at the boore wyth hys speare and all to-shyvird his speare. And therewyth the boore turned hym lyghtly, and rove oute the longys and the harte of the horse, that sir Launcelot felle to the erthe; and, or ever he myght gete frome hys horse, the bore smote hym on the brawne of the thyghe up unto the howghe-boone. And than sir Launcelot was wrothe, and up he gate uppon hys feete, and toke hys swerde and smote of the borys hede at one stroke.
And therewythall cam ou
te the ermyte and saw hym have suche a wounde. Anone he meaned hym, and wolde have had hym home unto his ermytage. But whan sir Launcelot harde hym speake, he was so wrothe wyth hys wounde that he ran uppon the ermyte to have slayne hym. Than the ermyte ran away, and whan sir Launcelot myght nat overgete hym he threw his swerde aftir hym, for he myght no farther for bledynge. Than the ermyte turned agayne and asked sir Launcelot how he was hurte.
A, my fealow,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘this boore hath byttyn me sore!’
‘Than com ye wyth me,’ seyde the ermyte, ‘and I shall heale you.’
‘Go thy way,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘and deale nat wyth me!’
Than the ermyte ran his way, and there he mette wyth a goodly knyght wyth many men.
‘Sir,’ seyde the ermyte, ‘here is faste by my place the goodlyest man that ever I sawe, and he ys sore wounded wyth a boore, and yet he hath slayne the bore. But well I wote,’ seyde the good man, ‘and he be nat holpyn, he shall dye of that wounde, and that were grete pité.’
Than that knyght at the desyre of the ermyte gate a carte, and therein he put the boore and sir Launcelot; for he was so fyeble that they myght ryght easyly deale with hym. And so sir Launcelot was brought unto the ermytayge, and there the ermyte healed hym of hys wounde. But the ermyte myght nat fynde hym his sustenaunce, and so he empeyred and wexed fyeble bothe of body and of hys wytte: for defaute of sustenaunce he waxed more wooder than he was aforetyme.
And than uppon a day sir Launcelot ran his way into the foreyste; and by the adventure he com to the cité of Corbyn where dame Elayne was, that bare Galahad, sir Launcelottys sonne. And so whan he was entyrde into the towne he ran thorow the towne to the castell; and than all the yonge men of that cité ran aftir sir Launcelot, and there they threwe turvis at hym and gaff hym many sad strokys. And ever as sir Launcelot myght reche ony of them, he threw them so that they wolde never com in hys hondes no more, for of som he brake the leggys and armys.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 69