Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory

by Thomas Malory

  So than there were made grete festis unto kyngis and deukes, and revell, game, and play, and all maner of nobeles was used. And he that was curteyse, trew, and faythefull to hys frynde was that tyme cherysshed.

  IV. THE KNIGHT OF THE CART

  [25] AND thus hit passed on frome Candylmas untyll after Ester, that the moneth of May was com, whan every lusty harte begynnyth to blossom and to burgyne. For, lyke as trees and erbys burgenyth and florysshyth in May, in lyke wyse every lusty harte that ys ony maner of lover spryngith, burgenyth, buddyth, and florysshyth in lusty dedis. For hit gyvyth unto all lovers corrayge, that lusty moneth of May, in somthynge to constrayne hym to som maner of thynge more than in ony other monethe, for dyverce causys: for than all erbys and treys renewyth a man and woman, and in lyke wyse lovers callyth to their mynde olde jantylnes and olde servyse, and many kynde dedes that was forgotyn by neclygence.

  For, lyke as wynter rasure dothe allway arace and deface grene summer, so faryth hit by unstable love in man and woman, for in many persones there ys no stabylité: for we may se all day, for a lytyll blaste of wyntres rasure, anone we shall deface and lay aparte trew love, for lytyll or nowght, that coste muche thynge. Thys ys no wysedome nother no stabylité, but hit ys fyeblenes of nature and grete disworshyp, whosomever usyth thys.

  Therefore, lyke as May moneth flowryth and floryshyth in every mannes gardyne, so in lyke wyse lat every man of worshyp florysh hys herte in thys worlde: firste unto God, and nexte unto the joy of them that he promysed hys feythe unto; for there was never worshypfull man nor worshypfull woman but they loved one bettir than another; and worshyp in armys may never be foyled. But firste reserve the honoure to God, and secundely thy quarell muste com of thy lady. And such love I calle vertuouse love.

  But nowadayes men cannat love sevennyght but they muste have all their desyres. That love may nat endure by reson, for where they bethe sone accorded and hasty, heete sone keelyth. And ryght so faryth the love nowadayes, sone hote sone colde. Thys ys no stabylyté. But the olde love was nat so. For men and women coude love togydirs seven yerys, and no lycoures lustis was betwyxte them, and than was love, trouthe and faythefulnes. And so in lyke wyse was used such love in kynge Arthurs dayes.

  Wherefore I lykken love nowadayes unto sommer and wynter: for, lyke as the tone ys colde and the othir ys hote, so faryth love nowadayes. And therefore all ye that be lovers, calle unto youre remembraunce the monethe of May, lyke as ded quene Gwenyver, for whom I make here a lytyll mencion, that whyle she lyved she was a trew lover, and therefor she had a good ende.

  So hit befelle in the moneth of May, quene Gwenyver called unto XIX.1 her ten knyghtes of the Table Rounde, and she gaff them warnynge that early uppon the morn she wolde ryde on maynge into woodis and fyldis besydes Westemynster:

  ‘And I warne you that there be none of you but he be well horsed, and that ye all be clothed all in gryne, othir in sylke othir in clothe. And I shall brynge with me ten ladyes, and every knyght shall have a lady be hym. And every knyght shall have a squyar and two yomen, and I woll that all be well horsed.’

  So they made hem redy in the freysshyst maner, and thes were the namys of the knyghtes: sir Kay le Senesciall, sir Aggravayne, sir Braundyles, sir Sagramour le Desyrous, sir Dodynas le Savayge, sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy, sir Ladynas of the Foreyst Savayge, sir Persaunte of Inde, sir Ironsyde that was called the Knyght of the Rede Laundes, and sir Pelleas the Lovear. And thes ten knyghtes made them redy in the freysshyste maner to ryde wyth the quyne.

  And so uppon the morne or hit were day, in a May mornynge, they toke their horsys wyth the quene and rode on mayinge in wodis and medowis as hit pleased hem, in grete joy and delytes. For the quene had caste to have bene agayne with kynge Arthur at the furthest by ten of the clok, and so was that tyme her purpose.

  Than there was a knyght whych hyght sir Mellyagaunce, and he was sonne unto kynge Bagdemagus, and this knyght had that tyme a castell of the gyffte of kynge Arthure within seven myle of Westemynster. And thys knyght sir Mellyagaunce loved passyngly well quene Gwenyver, and so had he done longe and many yerys. And the booke seyth he had layn in awayte for to stele away the quene, but evermore he forbare for bycause of sir Launcelot; for in no wyse he wolde meddyll with the quene and sir Launcelot were in her company othir ellys and he were nerehonde.

  And that tyme was such a custom that the quene rode never wythoute a grete felyshyp of men of armys aboute her. And they were many good knyghtes, and the moste party were yonge men that wolde have worshyp, and they were called the Quenys Knyghtes. And never in no batayle, turnement nother justys they bare none of hem no maner of knowlecchynge of their owne armys but playne whyght shyldis, and thereby they were called the Quenys Knyghtes. And whan hit happed ony of them to be of grete worshyp by hys noble dedis, than at the nexte feste of Pentecoste, gyff there were ony slayne or dede as there was none yere that there fayled but there were som dede, than was there chosyn in hys stede that was dede the moste men of worshyp that were called the Quenys Knyghtes. And thus they cam up firste or they were renowned men of worshyp, both sir Launcelot and all the remenaunte of them.

  But thys knyght sir Mellyagaunce had aspyed the quene well and her purpose, and how sir Launcelot was nat wyth her, and how she had no men of armys with her but the ten noble knyghtis all rayed in grene for maiynge. Than he purveyde hym a twenty men of armys and an hondred archars for to destresse the quene and her knyghtes; for he thought that tyme was beste seson to take the quene.

  So as the quene was oute on mayynge wyth all her knyghtes [2] whych were bedaysshed wyth erbis, mossis, and floures in the freysshyste maner, ryght so there cam oute of a wood sir Mellyagaunte with an eyght score men, all harneyst as they shulde fyghte in a batayle of areste, and bade the quene and her knyghtis abyde, for magré their hedis they shulde abyde.

  ‘Traytoure knyght,’ seyd quene Gwenyver, ‘what caste thou to do? Wolt thou shame thyselff? Bethynke the how thou arte a kyngis sonne and a knyght of the Table Rounde, and thou thus to be aboute to dishonoure the noble kyng that made the knyght! Thou shamyst all knyghthode and thyselffe and me. And I lat the wyte thou shalt never shame me, for I had levir kut myne owne throte in twayne rather than thou sholde dishonoure me!’

  ‘As for all thys langayge,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunte, ‘be as hit be may. For wyte you well, madame, I have loved you many a yere, and never ar now cowde I gete you at such avayle. And therefore I woll take you as I fynde you.’

  Than spake all the ten noble knyghtes at onys and seyde, ‘Sir Mellyagaunte, wyte thou well thou ar aboute to jouparté thy worshyp to dishonoure, and also ye caste to jouparté youre persones. Howbeit we be unarmed and ye have us at a grete avauntayge — for hit semyth by you that ye have layde wacche uppon us — but rather than ye shulde put the quene to a shame and us all, we had as lyff to departe frome owre lyvys, for and we othyrwayes ded we were shamed for ever.’

  Than seyde sir Mellyagaunt, ‘Dresse you as well as ye can, and kepe the quene!’

  Than the ten knyghtis of the Rounde Table drew their swerdis, and thes othir lat ren at them wyth their spearys, and the ten knyghtis manly abode them and smote away their spearys, that no speare ded them no harme. Than they laysshed togydirs wyth swerdis, and anone sir Kay, sir Sagramoure, sir Aggravayne, sir Dodynas, sir Ladynas and sir Ozanna were smytten to the erthe with grymly woundis. Than sir Braundiles and sir Persaunte, sir Ironsyde and sir Pelleas faught longe, and they were sore wounded, for thes ten knyghtes, or ever they were leyde to the grounde, slew fourty men of the boldyste and the beste of them.

  So whan the quene saw her knyghtes thus dolefully wounded and nedys muste be slayne at the laste, than for verry pyté and sorow she cryed and seyde, ‘Sir Mellyagaunte, sle nat my noble knyghtes! And I woll go with the uppon thys covenaunte: that thou save them and suffir hem no more to be hurte, wyth thys that they be lad with me wheresomever thou ledyst me. For I woll rather sle myselff than I woll go wyth the, onles that thes noble knyghtes may be in my presence.’

&n
bsp; ‘Madame,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunt, ‘for your sake they shall be lad wyth you into myne owne castell, with that ye woll be reuled and ryde with me.’

  Than the quene prayde the four knyghtes to leve their fyghtynge, and she and they wolde nat departe.

  ‘Madame,’ seyde sir Pelleas, ‘we woll do as ye do, for as for me, I take no force of my lyff nor deth.’

  For, as the Freynshe booke seyth, sir Pelleas gaff such buffettis there that none armoure myght holde hym.

  [3] Than by the quenys commaundemente they leffte batayle and dressed the wounded knyghtes on horsebak, som syttyng and som overtwarte their horsis, that hit was pité to beholde. And than sir Mellyagaunt charged the quene and all her knyghtes that none of hir felyshyp shulde departe frome her, for full sore he drad sir Launcelot du Lake, laste he shulde have ony knowlecchynge. And all this aspyed the quene, and pryvaly she called unto her a chylde of her chambir whych was swyfftely horsed of a grete avauntayge.

  ‘Now go thou,’ seyde she, ‘whan thou seyst thy tyme, and beare thys rynge unto sir Launcelot du Laake, and pray hym as he lovythe me that he well se me and rescow me, if ever he woll have joy of me. And spare nat thy horse,’ seyde the quyene, ‘nother for watir nother for londe.’

  So thys chyld aspyed hys tyme, and lyghtly he toke hys horse with spurres and departed as faste as he myght. And whan sir Mellyagaunte saw hym so fie, he undirstood that hit was by the quyenys commaundemente for to warne sir Launcelot. Than they that were beste horsed chaced hym and shotte at hym, but frome hem all the chylde wente delyverly.

  And than sir Mellyagaunte sayde unto the quyne, ‘Madame, ye ar aboute to betray me, but I shall ordayne for sir Launcelot that he shall nat com lyghtly at you.’

  And than he rode wyth her and all the felyshyp in all the haste that they myght. And so by the way sir Mellyagaunte layde in buyshemente of the beste archars that he myghte gete in his countré to the numbre of a thirty to awayte uppon sir Launcelot, chargynge them that yf they saw suche a maner a knyght com by the way uppon a whyght horse, ‘that in ony wyse ye sle hys horse, but in no maner have ye ado wyth hym bodyly, for he ys over hardé to be overcom.’ So thys was done, and they were com to hys castell; but in no wyse the quene wolde never lette none of the ten knyghtes and her ladyes oute of her syght, but allwayes they were in her presence. For the booke sayth sir Mellyagaunte durste make no mastryes for drede of sir Launcelot, insomuche he demed that he had warnynge.

  So whan the chylde was departed fro the felyshyp of sir Mellyagaunte, wythin a whyle he cam to Westemynster, and anone he founde sir Launcelot. And whan he had tolde hys messayge and delyverde hym the quenys rynge, ‘Alas!’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘now am I shamed for ever, onles that I may rescow that noble lady frome dishonour!’ Than egirly he asked hys armys.

  And ever the chylde tolde sir Launcelot how the ten knyghtes faught mervaylously and how sir Pelleas, sir Ironsyde, sir Braundyles and sir Persaunte of Inde fought strongely, but namely sir Pelleas, there myght none harneys holde hym; and how they all faught tylle they were layde to the erthe, and how the quene made apoyntemente for to save their lyvys and to go wyth sir Mellyagaunte.

  ‘Alas!’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that moste noble lady, that she shulde be so destroyed! I had lever,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘than all Fraunce that I had bene there well armed.’

  So whan sir Launcelot was armed and uppon hys horse, he prayde the chylde of the quynys chambir to warne sir Lavayne how suddeynly he was departed and for what cause. ‘And pray hym as he lovyth me, that he woll hyghe hym aftir me, and that he stynte nat untyll he com to the castell where sir Mellyagaunt abydith, for there,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘he shall hyre of me and I be a man lyvynge, and than shall I rescowe the quene and the ten knyghtes the whiche he traitourly hath taken, and that shall I preve upon his hede, and all of them that hold with hym.’

  [4] And than sir Launcelot rode as faste as he myght, and the booke seyth he toke the watir at Westmynster Brydge and made hys horse swymme over the Temmys unto Lambyth. And so within a whyle he cam to the same place thereas the ten noble knyghtes fought with sir Mellyagaunte. And than sir Launcelot folowed the trak untyll that he cam to a woode, and there was a strayte way, and there the thirty archers bade sir Launcelot ‘turne agayne and folow no longer that trak’.

  ‘What commaundemente have ye,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘to cause me, that am a knyght of the Rounde Table, to leve my ryght way?”Thys wayes shalt thou leve, othir ellis thou shalte go hit on thy foote, for wyte thou well thy horse shall be slayne.’

  That ys lytyll maystry,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘to sle myne horse! But as for myselff, whan my horse ys slayne I gyff ryght nought of you, nat and ye were fyve hundred me!’

  So than they shotte sir Launcelottis horse and smote hym with many arowys. And than sir Launcelot avoyded hys horse and wente on foote, but there were so many dychys and hedgys betwyxte hem and hym that he myght nat meddyll with none of hem.

  ‘Alas, for shame!’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that ever one knyght shulde betray anothir knyght! But hyt ys an olde-seyde saw: “A good man ys never in daungere but whan he ys in the daungere of a cowhard.”’ —

  Than sir Launcelot walked on a whyle, and was sore acombird of hys armoure, hys shylde, and hys speare. Wyte you well he was full sore anoyed! And full lothe he was for to leve onythynge that longed unto hym, for he drad sore the treson of sir Mellyagaunce. Than by fortune there cam by hym a charyote that cam thydir to feche wood.

  ‘Say me, carter,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘what shall I gyff the to suffir me to lepe into thy charyote, and that thou wolte brynge me unto a castell within thys two myle?’

  ‘Thou shalt nat entir into thys caryot,’ seyde the carter, ‘for I am sente for to fecche wood.’

  ‘Unto whom?’ seyde sir Launcelot.

  ‘Unto my lorde, sir Mellyagaunce,’ seyde the carter.

  ‘And with hym wolde I speke,’ seyde sir Launcelot.

  ‘Thou shalt nat go with me!’ seyde the carter.

  Whan sir Launcelot lepe to hym and gaff hym backwarde with hys gauntelet a reremayne, that he felle to the erthe starke dede, than the tothir carter, hys felow, was aferde, and wente to have gone the same way. And than he sayde, ‘Fayre lorde, sauff my lyff, and I shall brynge you where ye woll.”Than I charge the,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that thou dryve me and thys charyote unto sir Mellyagaunce yate.’

  ‘Than lepe ye up into the charyotte,’ seyde the carter, ‘and ye shall be there anone.’

  So the carter drove on a grete walop, and sir Launcelottes hors folowed the charyot, with me than forty arowys in hym.

  And more than an owre and an halff quene Gwenyver was a-waytyng in a bay-wyndow. Than one of hir ladyes aspyed an armed knyght stondyng in a charyote.

  ‘A! se, madam,’ seyde the lady, ‘where rydys in a charyot a goodly armed knyght, and we suppose he rydyth unto hangynge.’

  ‘Where?’ seyde the quene.

  Than she aspyed by hys shylde that hit was sir Launcelot, and than was she ware where cam hys horse after the charyotte, and ever he trode hys guttis and hys paunche undir hys feete.

  ‘Alas!’ seyde the quene, now I may preve and se that well ys that creature that hath a trusty frynde. A ha!’ seyde quene Gwenyver, ‘I se well that ye were harde bestad whan ye ryde in a charyote.’ And than she rebuked that lady that lykened sir Launcelot to ryde in a charyote to hangynge: ‘Forsothe hit was fowle-mowthed,’ seyde the quene, ‘and evyll lykened, so for to lyken the moste noble knyght of the worlde unto such a shamefull dethe. A! Jesu deffende hym and kepe hym,’ sayde the quene, ‘frome all myschevous ende!’

  So by thys was sir Launcelot comyn to the gatis of that castell, and there he descended down and cryed, that all the castell myght rynge:

  ‘Where arte thou, thou false traytoure sir Mellyagaunte, and knyghte of the Table Rounde? Com forth, thou traytour knyght, thou and all thy felyshyp with the, for here I am, sir Launcelot du Lake, that shall fyght with you all!’

  And there
withall he bare the gate wyde opyn uppon the porter, and smote hym undir the ere wyth hys gauntelet, that hys nekke braste in two pecis.

  Whan sir Mellyagaunce harde that sir Launcelot was comyn, he ranne unto the quene and felle uppon hys kne and seyde, ‘Mercy, madame, for now I putte me holé in your good grace.’

  ‘What ayles you now?’ seyde quene Gwenyver. ‘Pardé, I myght well wete that some good knyght wolde revenge me, thoughe my lorde kynge Arthure knew nat of thys your worke.’

  ‘A! madame,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunte, ‘all thys that ys amysse on my party shall be amended ryght as youreselff woll devyse, and holy I put me in youre grace.’

  ‘What wolde ye that I ded?’ seyde the quene.

  ‘Madame, I wolde no more,’ seyde sir Mellyagaunt, ‘but that ye wolde take all in youre owne hondys, and that ye woll rule my lorde sir Launcelot. And such chere as may be made hym in thys poure castell ye and he shall have untyll to-morn, and than may ye and all they returne ayen unto Westmynster. And my body and all that I have I shall put in youre rule.’

  ‘Ye sey well,’ seyde the quene, ‘and bettir ys pees than evermore warre, and the lesse noyse the more ys my worshyp.’

  Than the quene and hir ladyes wente downe unto sir Launcelot that stood wood wrothe oute of mesure in the inner courte to abyde batayle, and ever he seyde, ‘Thou traytour knyght, com forthe!’ Than the quene cam unto hym and seyde, ‘Sir Launcelot, why be ye so amoved?’

  ‘A! madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘why aske ye me that questyon? For mesemyth ye oughte to be more wrotther than I am, for ye have the hurte and the dishonour. For wyte you well, madame, my hurte ys but lytyll in regard for the sleyng of a marys sonne, but the despite grevyth me much more than all my hurte.’