Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory

by Thomas Malory

  ‘Ye, my lorde,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for I woll never go fro that I — have onys sayde.’

  Than the knyghtes parters of the fylde disarmed sir Launcelot, firste hys hede and than hys lyffte arme and hys lyffte syde, and they bounde his lyffte arme to hys lyffte syde fast behynde hys bak, withoute shylde or onythynge. And anone they yode togydirs. Wyte you well there was many a lady and many a knyght mervayled of sir Launcelot that wolde jouparté hymselff in suche wyse.

  Than sir Mellyagaunce com wyth swerde all on hyght, and sir Launcelot shewed hym opynly hys bare hede and the bare lyffte syde. And whan he wente to have smytten hym uppon the bare hede, than lyghtly he devoyded the lyffte legge and the lyffte syde and put hys honde and hys swerde to that stroke, and so put hit on syde wyth grete slyght. And than with grete force sir Launcelot smote hym on the helmet such a buffett that the stroke carved the hed in two partyes.

  Than there was no more to do, but he was drawyn oute of the fylde, and at the grete instaunce of the knyghtes of the Table Rounde the kynge suffird hym to be entered, and the mencion made uppon hym who slewe hym and for what cause he was slayne.

  And than the kynge and the quene made more of sir Launcelot, and more was he cherysshed than ever he was aforehande.

  V. THE HEALING OF SIR URRY

  [10] THAN, as the Freynshe boke makith mencion, there was a good knyght in the londe of Hungré whos name was sir Urré. And he was an adventurys knyght, and in all placis where he myght here ony adventures dedis and of worshyp there wold he be.

  So hit happened in Spayne there was an erle, and hys sunnes name was called sir Alpheus. And at a grete turnamente in Spayne thys sir Urry, knyght of Hungré, and sir Alpheus of Spayne encountred togydirs for verry envy, and so aythir undirtoke other to the utteraunce. And by fortune thys sir Urry slew sir Alpheus, the erlys son of Spayne. But thys knyght that was slayne had yevyn sir Urry, or ever he were slayne, seven grete woundis, three on the hede and three on hys body, an one uppon hys lyffte honde. And thys sir Alpheus had a modir whiche was a grete sorseras; and she, for the despyte of hir sunnes deth, wrought by her suttyle craufftis that sir Urry shulde never be hole, but ever his woundis shulde one tyme fester and another tyme blede, so that he shulde never be hole untyll the beste knyght of the worlde had serched hys woundis. And thus she made her avaunte, wherethorow hit was knowyn that this sir Urry sholde never be hole.

  Than hys modir lete make an horse-lytter and put hym therein with two palfreyes caryyng hym. And than she toke wyth hym hys syster, a full fayre damesell whos name was Fyleloly, and a payge wyth hem to kepe their horsis, and so they lad sir Urry thorow many contreyes. For, as the Freynshe boke saythe, she lad hym so seven yere thorow all londis crystened and never cowde fynde no knyght that myght ease her sunne.

  So she cam unto Scotlonde and into the bondes of Inglonde. And by fortune she com unto the feste of Pentecoste untyll kynge Arthurs courte that at that tyme was holdyn at Carlehylle. And whan she cam there she made hit to be opynly knowyn how that she was com into that londe for to hele her sonne. Than kynge Arthur lette calle that lady and aske her the cause why she brought that hurte knyght into that londe.

  ‘My moste noble kynge,’ seyde that lady, ‘wyte you well I brought hym hyddir to be heled of hys woundis, that of all thys seven yere myght never be hole.’

  And thus she tolde the kynge, and where he was wounded and with whom, and how hys modir discoverde hit in her pryde how she had worought by enchauntemente that he sholde never be hole untyll the beste knyght of the worlde had serched hys woundis.

  ‘And so I have passed all the londis crystynde thorow to have hym healed excepte thys londe, and gyff I fayle here in thys londe I woll never take more payne uppon me. And that ys grete pité, for he was a good knyght and of grete nobeles.’

  ‘What ys hys name?’ seyde kynge Arthure.

  ‘My good and gracious lorde,’ she seyde, ‘his name ys sir Urre of the Mounte.’

  ‘In good tyme,’ seyde the kynge. ‘And sythyn ye ar com into thys londe, ye ar ryght wellcom. And wyte you welle, here shall youre son be healed and ever ony Crystyn man may heale hym. And for to gyff all othir men off worshyp a currayge, I myselff woll asay to handyll your sonne, and so shall all the kynges, dukis and erlis that ben here presente at thys tyme, nat presumyng uppon me that I am so worthy to heale youre son be my dedis, but I woll corrayge othir men of worshyp to do as I woll do.’

  And than the kynge commaunded all the kynges, dukes and erlis and all noble knyghtes of the Rounde Table that were there that tyme presente to com into the medow of Carlehyll. And so at that tyme there were but an hondred an ten of the Rounde Table, for forty knyghtes were that tyme away. And so here we muste begynne at kynge Arthur, as was kyndely to begynne at hym that was that tyme the moste man of worshyp crystynde.

  [11] Than kynge Arthur loked uppon sir Urré, and he thought he was a full lykly man whan he was hole. And than the kynge made to take hym downe of the lyttar and leyde hym uppon the erth, and anone there was layde a cussheon of golde that he shulde knele uppon. And than kynge Arthur sayde, ‘Fayre knyght, me rewyth of thy hurte, and for to corrayge all other knyghtes I woll pray the sofftely to suffir me to handyll thy woundis.’

  ‘My moste noble crystynd kynge, do ye as ye lyste,’ seyde sir Urré, ‘for I am at the mercy of God and at youre commaundemente.’

  So than kynge Arthur softely handeled hym. And than som of hys woundis renewed uppon bledynge.

  Than kynge Claryaunce of Northumbirlonde serched, and hit wolde nat be. And than sir Barraunte le Apres, that was called the Kynge with the Hundred Knyghtes, he assayed and fayled. So ded kynge Uryence of the londe of Gore. So ded kynge Angwysh of Irelonde, and so ded kynge Newtrys of Garloth. So ded kynge Carydos of Scotlonde. So ded the duke sir Galahalt the Haute Prynce. So ded sir Constantyne that was kynge Cadors son of Cornwayle. So ded duke Chalaunce of Claraunce. So ded the erle of Ulbawys. So ded the erle Lambayle. So ded the erle Arystanse.

  Than cam in sir Gawayne wyth hys three sunnes, sir Gyngalyn, sir Florence, and sir Lovell thes two were begotyn uppon sir Braundeles syster, and all they fayled. Than cam in sir Aggravayne, sir Gaherys, and sir Mordred, and the good knyght sir Gareth that was of verry knyghthod worth all the brethirn.

  So cam in the knyghtes of sir Launcelottis kyn, but sir Launcelot was nat that tyme in the courte, for he was that tyme uppon hys adventures. Than sir Lyonell, sir Ector de Marys, sir Bors de Ganys, sir Blamour de Ganys, sir Bleoberys de Ganys, sir Gahalantyne, sir Galyhodyn, sir Menaduke, sir Vyllars the Valyaunte, sir Hebes le Renowne, all thes were of sir Launcelottis kynne, and all they fayled.

  Than cam in sir Sagramour le Desyrus, sir Dodynas le Saveage, sir Dynadan, sir Brewne le Noyre that sir Kay named La Cote Male Tayle, and sir Kay le Senesciall, sir Kay d’Estraunges, sir Mellyot de Logris, sir Petipace of Wynchylsé, sir Galleron of Galway, sir Melyon of the Mountayne, sir Cardoke, sir Uwayne les Avoutres, and sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy.

  Than cam in sir Ascamour, and sir Grummor and Grummorson, sir Crosseleme, sir Severause le Brewse that was called a passynge stronge knyght.

  For, as the booke seyth, the chyff lady of the Lady off the Lake fested sir Launcelot and sir Severause le Brewse, and whan she had fested them both at sundry tymes, she prayde hem to gyff her a done, and anone they graunted her. And than she prayde sir Severause that he wolde promyse her never to do batayle ayenste sir Launcelot, and in the same wyse she prayde sir Launcelot never to do batayle ayenste sir Severause, and so aythir promysed her. For, the Freynshe booke sayth, that sir Severause had never corayge nor grete luste to do batayle ayenste no man but if hit were ayenste gyauntis and ayenste dragons and wylde bestis.

  So leve we thys mater and speke we of them that at the kynges rekeyste were there at the hyghe feste, as knyghtes of the Rounde Table, for to serche sir Urré. And to thys entente the kynge ded hit, to wyte whych was the moste nobelyste knyght amonge them all.

  Than cam in sir Agglovale, sir Durnor and sir Tor that was be
gotyn uppon the cowardis wyff, but he was begotyn afore Aryes wedded her and kynge Pellynor begate them all: firste sir Tor, sir Agglovale, sir Durnor, sir Lamorak, the moste nobeleste knyght, one of them that ever was in kynge Arthurs dayes as for a wordly knyght, and sir Percivale that was pyerles, excepte sir Galahad, in holy dedis. But they dyed in the queste of the Sangreall.

  Than cam in sir Gryfflet le Fyze de Du, sir Lucan the Butlere, sir Bedyvere, hys brothir, sir Braundeles, sir Constantyne, sir Cadors son of Cornwayle that was kynge aftir Arthurs dayes, and sir Clegis, sir Sadok, sir Dynas le Senesciall de Cornwayle, sir Fergus, sir Dryaunte, sir Lambegus, sir Clarrus off Cleremownte, sir Cloddrus, sir Hectymere, sir Edwarde of Carnarvan, sir Pryamus whych was crystynde by the meanys of sir Trystram, the noble knyght, and thes three were brethirn; sir Helayne le Blanke that was son unto sir Bors, for he begate hym uppon kynge Brandygorys doughter, and sir Bryan de Lystenoyse; sir Gauter, sir Raynolde, sir Gyllymere, were three brethirn whych sir Launcelot wan uppon a brydge in sir Kayes armys; sir Gwyarte le Petite, sir Bellyngere le Bewse that was son to the good knyght sir Alysaundir le Orphelyn that was slayne by the treson of kynge Marke.

  Also that traytoure kynge slew the noble knyght sir Trystram as he sate harpynge afore hys lady, La Beall Isode, with a trenchaunte glayve, for whos dethe was the moste waylynge of ony knyght that ever was in kynge Arthurs dayes, for there was never none so bewayled as was sir Tristram and sir Lamerok, for they were with treson slayne: sir Trystram by kynge Marke, and sir Lamorake by sir Gawayne and hys brethirn.

  And thys sir Bellynger revenged the deth of hys fadir, sir Alysaundir, and sir Trystram, for he slewe kynge Marke. And La Beall Isode dyed sownyng uppon the crosse of sir Trystram, whereof was grete pité. And all that were with kynge Marke whych were of assente of the dethe of sir Trystram were slayne, as sir Andred and many othir.

  Than cam sir Hebes, sir Morganoure, sir Sentrayle, sir Suppynabiles, sir Belyaunce le Orgulus that the good knyght sir Lamorak wan in playne batayle, sir Neroveus and sir Plenoryus, two good knyghtes that sir Launcelot wanne, sir Darras, sir Harry le Fyze Lake, sir Ermynde, brother to kyng Hermaunce, for whom sir Palomydes faught at the Rede Cité with two brethirn; and sir Selyses of the Dolerous Towre, sir Edward of Orkeney, sir Ironsyde that was called the noble knyght of the Rede Laundis, that sir Gareth wan for the love of dame Lyones; sir Arrok, sir Degrevaunt, sir Degrave Saunze Vylony that faught wyth the gyaunte of the Blak Lowe; sir Epynogrys that was the kynges son of Northumbirlonde, sir Pelleas that loved the lady Ettarde and he had dyed for her sake, had nat bene one of the ladyes of the lake whos name was dame Nynyve; and she wedde sir Pelleas, and she saved hym ever aftir, that he was never slayne by her dayes; and he was a full noble knyght; and sir Lamyell of Cardyff that was a grete lovear, sir Playne de Fors, sir Melyaus de Lyle, sir Boarte le Cure Hardy that was kynge Arthurs son, sir Madore de la Porte, sir Collgrevaunce, sir Hervyse de la Foreyst Saveayge, sir Marrok the good knyght that was betrayed with his wyff, for he made hym seven yere a warwolff; sir Persaunt, sir Pertolope, hys brothir, that was called the Grene Knyght, and sir Perymones, brother unto them bothe, whych was called the Rede Knyght, that sir Gareth wanne whan he was called Bewmaynes.

  All thes hondred knyghtes and ten serched sir Urryes woundis by the commaundemente of kynge Arthur.

  ‘Mercy Jesu!’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘where ys sir Launcelot du [12] Lake, that he ys nat here at thys tyme?’

  And thus as they stood and spake of many thyngis, there one aspyed sir Launcelot that com rydynge towarde them, and anone they tolde the kynge.

  ‘Pees,’ seyde the kynge, ‘lat no man say nothyng untyll he be com to us.’

  So whan sir Launcelot had aspyed kynge Arthur he descended downe frome hys horse and cam to the kynge and salewed hym and them all. And anone as the damesell, sir Urryes syster, saw sir Launcelot, she romed to her brothir thereas he lay in hys lyttar and seyde, ‘Brothir, here ys com a knyght that my harte gyvyth gretly unto.”Fayre syster,’ seyde sir Urré, ‘so doth my harte lyghte gretly ayenste hym, and my harte gyvith me more unto hym than to all thes that hath serched me.’

  Than seyde kynge Arthur unto sir Launcelot, ‘Sir, ye muste do as we have done,’ and tolde hym what they had done and shewed hym them all that had serched hym.

  ‘Jesu defende me,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘whyle so many noble kyngis and knyghtes have fayled, that I shulde presume uppon me to enchyve that all ye, my lordis, myght nat enchyve.’

  ‘Ye shall nat chose,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘for I commaunde you to do as we all have done.’

  ‘My moste renowmed lorde,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I know well I dare nat, nor may nat, disobey you. But and I myght or durste, wyte you well I wolde nat take uppon me to towche that wounded knyght in that entent that I shulde passe all othir knyghtes. Jesu deffende me frome that shame!’

  ‘Sir, ye take hit wronge,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘for ye shall nat do hit for no presumpcion, but for to beare us felyshyp, insomuche as ye be a felow of the Rounde Table. And wyte you well,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘and ye prevayle nat and heale hym, I dare sey there ys no knyght in thys londe that may hele hym. And therefore I pray you do as we have done.’

  And than all the kyngis and knyghtes for the moste party prayed sir Launcelot to serche hym. And than the wounded knyght, sir Urré, set hym up waykely and seyde unto sir Launcelot, ‘Now, curteyse knyght, I requyre the, for Goddis sake, heale my woundis! For methynkis ever sytthyn ye cam here my woundis grevyth me nat so muche as they ded.’

  ‘A, my fayre lorde,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘Jesu wolde that I myght helpe you! For I shame sore with myselff that I shulde be thus requyred, for never was I able in worthynes to do so hyghe a thynge.’ Than sir Launcelot kneled downe by the wounded knyght, saiyng, ‘My lorde Arthure, I muste do youre commaundemente, whych ys sore ayenste my harte.’ And than he hylde up hys hondys and loked unto the este, saiynge secretely unto hymselff, ‘Now, Blyssed Fadir and Son and Holy Goste, I beseche The of Thy mercy that my symple worshyp and honesté be saved, and Thou Blyssed Trynyté, Thou mayste yeff me power to hele thys syke knyght by the grete vertu and grace of The, but, Good Lorde, never of myselff.’

  And than sir Launcelot prayde sir Urré to lat hym se hys hede; and than, devoutly knelyng, he ransaked the three woundis, that they bled a lytyll; and forthwithall the woundis fayre heled and semed as they had bene hole a seven yere. And in lyke wyse he serched hys body of othir three woundis, and they healed in lyke wyse. And than the laste of all he serched hys honde, and anone hit fayre healed.

  Than kynge Arthur and all the kynges and knyghtes kneled downe and gave thankynges and lovynge unto God and unto Hys Blyssed Modir. And ever sir Launcelote wepte, as he had bene a chylde that had bene beatyn!

  Than kyng Arthure lat ravyshe prystes and clarkes in the moste devoutiste wyse to brynge in sir Urré into Carlyle with syngyng and lovyng to God. And whan thys was done the kynge lat clothe hym in ryche maner, and than was there but feaw bettir made knyghtes in all the courte, for he was passyngly well made and bygly.

  Than kynge Arthur asked sir Urré how he felte hymselff.

  ‘A! my good and gracious lorde, I felte myselffe never so lusty.’

  ‘Than woll ye juste and do ony armys?’ seyd kynge Arthur.

  ‘Sir, and I had all that longed unto justis, I wolde be sone redy.’

  Than kynge Arthur made a party of a hondred knyghtes to be ayenste an hondred, and so uppon the morn they justed for a dyamounde, but there justed none of the daungerous knyghtes. And so, for to shortyn thys tale, sir Urré and sir Lavayne justed beste that day, for there was none of them but he overthrew and pulled down a thirty knyghtes.

  And than by assente of all the kynges and lordis sir Urré and sir Lavayne were made knyghtes of the Table Rounde. And than sir Lavayne keste hys love unto dame Fyleloly, sir Urré syster, and than they were wedded with grete joy, and so kynge Arthur gaff to every of them a barony of londis.

  And this sir Urré wolde never go fr
ome sir Launcelot, but he and sir Lavayne awayted evermore uppon hym; and they were in all the courte accounted for good knyghtes and full desyrous in armys. And many noble dedis they ded, for they wolde have no reste but ever sought uppon their dedis. Thus they lyved in all that courte wyth grete nobeles and joy longe tymes.

  But every nyght and day sir Aggravayne, sir Gawaynes brother, awayted quene Gwenyver and sir Launcelot to put hem bothe to a rebuke and a shame.

  And so I leve here of this tale, and overlepe grete bookis of sir Launcelot, what grete adventures he ded whan he was called ‘le Shyvalere de Charyot’. For, as the Freynshe booke sayth, because of dispyte that knyghtes and ladyes called hym ‘the Knyght that rode in the Charyot’, lyke as he were juged to the jybett, therefore, in the despite of all them that named hym so, he was caryed in a charyotte a twelve-monethe; for but lytill aftir that he had slayne sir Mellyagaunte in the quenys quarell, he never of a twelve-moneth com on horsebak. And, as the Freynshe booke sayth, he ded that twelve-moneth more than forty batayles.

  And bycause I have loste the very mater of Shevalere de Charyot I departe from the tale of sir Launcelot; and here I go unto the morte Arthur, and that caused sir Aggravayne.

  AND HERE ON THE OTHIR SYDE FOLOWYTH THE MOSTE PYTEUOUS TALE OF THE MORTE ARTHURE SAUNZ GWERDON PAR LE SHYVALERE SIR THOMAS MALLEORRÉ, KNYGHT.

  JESU, AYEDE LY PUR VOUTRE BONE MERCY! AMEN.

  BOOK VIII. THE MOST PITEOUS TALE OF THE MORTE ARTHUR SAUNZ GUERDON

  I. SLANDER AND STRIFE

  [1] IN May, whan every harte floryshyth and burgenyth for, as the season ys lusty to beholde and comfortable, so man and woman rejoysyth and gladith of somer commynge with his freyshe floures, for wynter wyth hys rowghe wyndis and blastis causyth lusty men and women to cowre and to syt by fyres, so thys season hit befelle in the moneth of May a grete angur and unhappe that stynted nat tylle the floure of chyvalry of all the worlde was destroyed and slayne.