[4] And than behylde they the scawberte, hit besemyd to be of a serpentis skynne, and thereon were lettirs of golde and sylver. And the gurdyll was but porely to com to, and nat able to susteyne such a ryche swerde. And the lettirs seyde:
‘HE WHYCH SHALL WELDE ME OUGHT TO BE MORE HARDY THAN ONY OTHER, IF HE BEARE ME AS TRULY AS ME OUGHTE TO BE BORNE. FOR THE BODY OF HYM WHICH I OUGHT TO HANGE BY, HE SHALL NAT BE SHAMED IN NO PLACE WHYLE HE YS GURDE WITH THE GURDYLL. NOTHER NEVER NONE BE SO HARDY TO DO AWAY THYS GURDYLL, FOR HIT OUGHT NAT TO BE DONE AWAY BUT BY THE HONDIS OF A MAYDE, AND THAT SHE BE A KYNGIS DOUGHTER AND A QUENYS. AND SHE MUST BE A MAYDE ALL THE DAYES OF HIR LYFF, BOTH IN WYLL AND IN WORKE; AND IF SHE BREKE HIR VIRGINITÉ SHE SHALL DY THE MOSTE VVLAYNES DETH THAT EVER DUD ONY WOMAN.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘turne thys swerde that we may se what ys on the other syde.’
And hit was rede os bloode, with blacke lettirs as ony cole that seyde:
‘HE THAT SHALL PRAYSE ME MOSTE, MOSTE SHALL HE FYNDE
ME TO BLAME AT A GRETE NEDE. AND TO WHOM I SHOLDE BE MOSTE DEBONAYRE SHALL I BE MOST FELON. AND THAT SHALL BE AT ONE TYME ONLY.’
‘Fayre brother,’ seyde she to sir Percyvale, ‘hit befelle afftir a fourty yere aftir the Passion of our Lorde Jesu Cryste, that Nacien, the brothir-in-law of kyng Mordrains, was bore in a towne, more than fourtene dayes journey frome his contray, by the commaundemente of oure Lorde, into an yle into the partyes of the Weste that men clepith the Ile of Turnaunce.
‘So befelle hit, he founde thys shippe at the entré of a roche, and he founde the bedde and the swerde, as we have herd now. Natforthan he had nat so much hardynesse to draw hit. And there he dwelled an eyght dayes, and at the nynyth day there felle a grete wynd whych departed hym oute of the ile, and brought hym to another ile by a roche. And there he founde the grettist gyaunte that ever man myght see. And therewith cam that horrible gyaunte to sle hym, and than he loke aboute hym, and myght nat fie, also he had nothyng wherewith to defende hym. But at the laste he ran to the swerde, and whan he saw hit naked he praysed hit muche, and than he shooke hit, and therewith hit brake in the myddys.
‘”A,” seyde Nacien, “the thynge that I moste praysed ought I now moste to blame!”
‘And therewith he threw the pecis of the swerde over hys bedde, and aftir that he lepe over the bourde to fyght with the gyaunte, and slew hym. And anone he entirde into the snyppe agayne, and the wynde arose and drove hym thorow the see, that by adventure he cam to another shippe where kynge Mordrayns was, whych had bene tempted full evyll with the fynde, in the Porte of Perelous Roche.
‘And whan that one saw that other they made grete joy aythir of othir. And so they tolde eche other of their adventure, and how the swerde fayled hym at hys moste nede. So whan Mordrayns saw the swerde he praysed hit muche, “but the brekyng was do by wyckednesse of thyselffward, for thou arte in som synne.”
‘And there he toke the swerde and sette the pecis togydirs, and they were as fayre isowdred as ever they were tofore. And than he put the swerde in the sheeth ayen, and leyde hit downe on the bedde. Than herde they a voyce that seyde, ‘ “Go ye oute of thys shippe a litill whyle and entir into that othir for drede ye falle in dedly synne. For and ye be founde in dedely synne ye may nat ascape but perishe!”
‘And so they wente into the othir shippe. And as Nacyen wente over the bourde he was smytten with a swerde on the ryght foote, that he felle downe noselynge to the shippe-bourde. And therewith he seyde, ‘ “A, Good Lorde, how am I hurte!”
‘Than there cam a voice that seyde, “Take thou that for thy forfette that thou dyddist in drawynge of this swerde! Therefore thou hast ressayved a wounde, for thou were never worthy to handyll hit: the wrytynge makith mencion.’”
‘In the name of God!’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘ye ar ryght wyse of thes wordes.’
[5] ‘Sir,’ seyde she, ‘there was a kynge that hyght Pelleaus, which men called the Maymed Kynge, and whyle he myght ryde he supported much Crystyndom and Holy Chyrche. So uppon a day he hunted in a woode of hys owne whych lasted unto the see, so at the laste he loste hys howndys and hys knyghtes sauff only one.
‘And so he and his knyght wente tyll that they cam toward Irelonde, and there he founde the shippe. And whan he saw the lettirs and undirstood them, yet he entird, for he was ryght perfite of lyff. But hys knyght had no hardynes to entir. And there founde he thys swerde, and drew hit oute as much as ye may se. So therewith entirde a spere wherewith he was smytten thorow both thyghes. And never sith myght he be heled, ne nought shall tofore we com to hym. Thus,’ seyd she, ‘was kyng Pelles, youre grauntesyre, maymed for hys hardynes.’
‘In the name of God, damesell!’ seyde sir Galahad.
So they wente towarde the bedde to beholde all aboute hit. And abovyn the bed there hynge two swerdys, also there were spyndelys whych were whyght as snowe, and othir that were rede as bloode, and othir abovyn grene as ony emerawde. Of thes three colowres were thes spyndyls, and of naturall coloure within, and withoute ony payntynge.
‘Thes spyndyls,’ seyde the damesell, ‘was whan synfull Eve cam to gadir fruyte, for which Adam and she were put oute of Paradyse. She toke with her the bowgh whych the appyll hynge on, than perseyved she that the braunche was freysh and grene, and she remembird of the losse which cam of the tre. Than she thought to kepe the braunche as longe as she myght, and for she had no coffir to kepe hit in, she put hit in the erthe. So by the wylle of oure Lorde the braunche grew to a grete tre within a litill whyle, and was as whyght as ony snowe, braunchis, bowis, and levys: that was a tokyn that a maydyn planted hit. But affter that oure Lorde com to Adam and bade hym know hys wyff fleyshly, as nature requyred. So lay Adam with hys wyff undir the same tre, and anone the tre which was whyght felle to grene os ony grasse, and all that com oute of hit. And in the same tyme that they medled togydirs Abell was begotyn.
‘Thus was the tre longe of grene coloure. And so hit befelle many dayes aftir, undir the same tre Cayne slew Abell, whereof befelle grete mervayle, for as Abell had ressayved dethe undir the grene tre, he loste the grene colour and becam rede; and that was in tokenyng of blood. And anone all the plantis dyed thereoff, but the tre grewe and waxed mervaylusly fayre, and hit was the most fayryst tre and the most delectable that ony man myght beholde and se; and so ded the plantes that grewe oute of hit tofore that Abell was slayne undir hit.
‘And so longe dured the tre tyll that Salamon, kynge Davythys sonne, regned and hylde the londe aftir his fadir. So thys Salamon was wyse, and knew all the vertues of stonys and treys; also he knew the course of the sturres, and of many other dyvers thynges. So this Salamon had an evyll wyff, wherethorow he wente there had be no good woman borne, and therefore he dispysed them in hys bookis. So there answerde a voice that seyde to hym thus:
‘ “Salamon, if hevynesse com to a man by a woman, ne rek the never, for yet shall there com a woman whereof there shall com gretter joy to a man, an hondred tymes than thys hevynesse gyvith sorow. And that woman shall be borne of thy lynayge.”
‘So whan Salamon harde thes wordis, he hylde hymself but a foole.
Than preff had he by olde bookis the trouthe. Also the Holy Goste shewed hym the commynge of the glorius Virgyne Mary.
‘Than asked he the voyce if hit sholde be in the yarde of hys lynayge.
‘ “Nay,” seyde the voyce, “but there shall com a Man which shall be a mayde, and laste of youre bloode, and He shall be as good a [6] knyght as deuke Josue, thy brother-in-law. Now have I sertefyed the of that thou stondist in doute.”
‘Than was Salamon gladde that there shulde com ony suche of hys lynayge, but ever he mervayled and studyed who that sholde be, and what hys name myght be. So hys wyff perceyved that he studyed, and thought she wolde know at som season. And so she wayted hir tyme and cam to hym and asked hym. And there he tolde her alltogydir how the voice had tolde hym.
‘ “Well,” seyde she, “I shall lette make a shippe of the beste wood and moste durable that ony man may fynde.”
>
‘So Salamon sente for carpenters, of all the londe the beste. And whan they had made the shippe the lady seyde to Salamon, ‘“Sir, syn hit ys so that thys knyght oughte to passe all knyghtes of chevalry whych hathe bene tofore hym and shall com afftir hym, moreover I shall lerne you,” seyde she, “ye shall go into oure Lordis temple where ys kyng Davith his swerde, youre fadir, whych ys the mervaylouste and the sherpyste that ever was takyn in ony knyghtes hondys. Therefore take ye that, and take off the pomelle, and thereto make ye a pomell of precious stonys; late hit be so suttelly made that no man perceyve hit but that they beth all one. And aftir make there a hylte so mervaylously that no man may know hit, and aftir that make a mervaylous sheethe. And whan ye have made all thys I shall lette make a gurdyll thereto, such one as shall please me.”
‘So all thys kyng Salamaon ded lat make as she devised, bothe the shippe and all the remenaunte. And whan the shippe was redy in the see to sayle, the lady lete make a grete bedde and mervaylous ryche, and sette hir uppon the beddis hede coverde with sylke, and leyde the swerde at the feete. And the gurdyls were of hempe. ‘And therewith the kynge was ryght angry.
‘“Sir, wyte you welle that I have none so hyghe a thynge whych were worthy to susteyne soo hyghe a swerde. And a mayde shall brynge other knyghtes thereto, but I wote not whan hit shall be ne what tyme.”
‘And there she lete make a coverynge to the shippe of clothe of sylke, that sholde never rotte for no manner of wedir. Than thys lady wente and made a carpynter to com to the tre whych Abelle was slayne undir.
‘ “Now,” seyde she, “carve me oute of thys tre as much woode as woll make me a spyndill.”
‘ “A, madam,” seyde he, “thys ys the tre which oure firste modir planted.”
‘ “Do hit,” seyd she, “other ellis I shall destroy the.”
‘Anone as he began to worke, there com oute droppis of blood; and than wolde he a leffte, but she wolde nat suffir hym. And so he toke as muche woode as myght make a spyndyll, and so she made hym to take as muche of the grene tre, and so of the whyght tre. And whan thes three spyndyls were shapyn she made hem to be fastened uppon the syler of the bedde. So whan Salamon saw thys he seyde to hys wyff, ‘“Ye have done mervaylously, for thoughe all the worlde were here ryght now, they cowde nat devise wherefore all thys was made but oure Lorde Hymselff. And thou that haste done hit wote nat what hit shall betokyn.”
‘“Now lat hyt be,” seyde she, “for ye shall hyre peraventure tydynges sonner than ye wene.”’
Now HERE YS A WONDIR TALE OF KYNG SALAMON AND OF HYS WYFF.
‘That nyght lay Salamon before the shippe with litill felyship. [7] And whan he was on slepe hym thought there com from hevyn a grete company of angels, and alyght into the shippe, and toke water whych was brought by an angell in a vessell of sylver, and besprente all the shippe.
‘And aftir he cam to the swerde and drew lettirs on the hylte. And aftir wente to the shippe-bourde and wrote there other lettirs whych seyde: “THOU MAN THAT WOLTE ENTIR WITHIN ME, BEWARE THAT THOU BE FULLE IN THE FAYTHE, FOR I NE AM BUT FAYTH AND BELYVE.”
‘Whan Salamon aspyed thos lettirs he was so abaysshed that he durst nat entir, and so he drew hym abacke, and the shippe was anone shovyn in the see. He wente so faste that he had loste the syght of hym within a litill whyle. And than a voyce seyde, ‘ “Salamon, the laste knyght of thy kynred shall reste in thys bedde.”
‘Than wente Salamon and awaked hys wyff, and tolde her the adventures of thys shipp.’
Now seyth the tale that a grete whyle the three felowis behylde the bed and the three spyndyls. Than they were at a sertayne that they were of naturall coloures withoute ony payntynge. Than they lyfft up a cloth which was above the grounde, and there founde a rych purse be semyng. And sir Percivale toke hit and founde therein a wrytte, and so he rad hit, and devysed the maner of the spyndils and of the ship: whens hit cam, and by whom hit was made.
‘Now,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘where shall we fynde the jantillwoman that shall make new gurdyls to the swerde?’
‘Fayre sirres,’ seyde Percivallis syster, ‘dismay you nat, for, by the leve of God, I shall lette make a gurdyll to the swerde, such one as sholde longe thereto.’
And than opynde she a boxe and toke oute gurdils which were semely wrought with goldyn thredys, and uppon that were sette full precious stonys, and a ryche buckyll of golde.
‘Lo, lordys,’ she seyde, ‘here ys a gurdill that ought to be sette aboute the swerde. And wete you well the grettist parte of thys gurdyll was made of my hayre, whych somme tyme I loved well, whyle that I was woman of the worlde. But as sone as I wyste that thys adventure was ordayned me, I clipped off my heyre and made thys gurdyll.’
‘In the name of God, ye be well ifounde!’ seyde sir Bors. ‘For serteyse ye have put us oute off grete payne, wherein we sholde have entirde ne had your tydyngis ben.’
Than wente the jantillwoman and sette hit on the gurdyll of the swerde.
‘Now,’ seyde the felyship, ‘what ys the name of the swerde, and what shall we calle hit?’
‘Truly,’ seyde she, ‘the name of the swerde ys the Swerde with the Straunge Gurdyls, and the sheeth, Meveat of Blood. For no man that hath blood in hym ne shall never see that one party of the sheth whych was made of the tree of lyff.’
Than they seyde, ‘Sir Galahad, in the name of Jesu Cryste, we pray you to gurde you with thys swerde which hath bene desyred so much in the realme of Logrys.’
‘Now latte me begynne,’ seyde Galahad, ‘to grype thys swerde for to gyff you corrayge. But wete you well hit longith no more to me than hit doth to you.’
And than he gryped aboute hit with his fyngirs a grete dele, and than she gurte hym aboute the myddyll with the swerde.
‘Now recke I nat though I dye, for now I holde me one of the beste blyssed maydyns of the worlde, whych hath made the worthyest knyght of the worlde.’
‘Damesell,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘ye have done so muche that I shall be your knyght all the dayes of my lyff.’
Than they wente frome that ship and wente to the other. And anone the wynde droff hem into the see a grete pace, but they had no vytayle. So hit befelle that they cam on the morne to a castell that men calle Carteloyse, that was in the marchys of Scotlonde. And whan they had passed the porte the jantillwoman seyde, ‘Lordys, here be men aryven that, and they wyst that ye were of kynge Arthurs courte, ye shulde be assayled anone.’
‘Well, damesell, dismay you nat,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘for He that cast us oute of the rocche shall delyver us frome hem.’
So hit befelle, as they talked thus togydir, there cam a squyre by [8] them and asked what they were.
‘Sir, we ar of kyng Arthurs howse.’
‘Ys that sothe?’ seyde he. ‘Now, be my hede,’ seyd he, ‘ye be evyll arayde.’
And than turned agayne unto the chyff fortresse, and within a whyle they harde an horne blow. Than a jantillwoman cam to hem and asked them of whens they were. Anone they tolde her.
‘Now, fayre lordys,’ she seyde, ‘for Goddys love, turnyth agayne if ye may, for ye be com to youre dethe.’
‘Nay, forsoth,’ they seyde, ‘we woll nat turne agayne, for He shulde helpe us into whos servyse we were entred in.’
So as they stoode talkynge there cam ten knyghtes well armed, and bade hem yelde othir ellis dye.
‘That yeldyng,’ seyde they, ‘shall be noyous unto you.’
And therewith they lete their horsis renne, and sir Percivale smote the firste, that he bare hym to the erthe, and toke hys horse and bestrode hym. And the same wyse dud sir Galahad, and also sir Bors served another so; for they had no horse in that contrey, for they lefft their horsys whan they toke their shippe.
And so, whan they were horsed, than began they to sette uppon them, and they of the castell fledde into stronge fortressis, and thes three knyghtes aftir them into the castell; and so alyght on foote, and with their swerdis slew them downe, and gate into the halle.
Than whan they behelde th
e grete multitude of the people that they had slayne they helde themself grete synners.
‘Sertes,’ seyde sir Bors, ‘I wene, and God had loved them, that we sholde nat have had power to have slayne hem thus. But they have done so muche agayne oure Lorde that He wolde nat suffir hem to regne no lenger.’
‘Yee say nat so,’ seyde Galahad. ‘First, if they mysseded ayenst God, the vengeaunce ys nat owris, but to Hym which hath power thereoff.’
So cam there, oute of a chambir, a good man, which was a preste and bare Goddis body in a cuppe. And whan he saw hem whych lay dede in the halle he was abaysshed. Anone sir Galahad ded of hys helme and kneled adowne, and so dud hys two felowis.
‘Sir,’ seyde they, ‘have ye no drede of us, for we bene of kynge Arthurs courte.’
Than asked the good man how they were slayne so suddaynly. And they tolde hym.
‘Truly,’ seyde the good man, ‘and ye myght lyve as longe as the worlde myght endure, ne myght ye have done so grete almys-dede as this.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘I repente me gretely inasmuch as they were crystynde.’
‘Nay, repente you nat,’ seyde he, ‘for they were nat crystynde. And I — shall telle you how that I know of thys castell. Here was a lorde erle whos name was Hernox, nat but one yere. And he had three sonnys, good knyghtes of armys, and a doughter, the fayrist jantillwoman that men knew. So the three knyghtes loved their syster so sore that they brente in love. And so they lay by her, magré her hede. And for she cryed to hir fadir they slew her, and toke their fadir and put hym in preson and wounded hym nye to the deth. But a cosyn of hers rescowed hym.
And than ded they grete untrouthe, for they slew clerkis and prestis, and made bete downe chapellis that oure Lordys servyse myght nat be seyde. And thys same day her fadir sente unto me for to be confessed and howseled. But such shame had never man as I had thys same day with the three bretherne; but the olde erle made me to sufiir, for he seyde they shold nat longe endure, for three servauntes of oure Lorde sholde destroy them. And now hit ys brought to an ende, and by thys may you wete that oure Lorde ys nat displesed with youre dedis.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 81