[6] ‘My lorde, sir Launcelot,’ seyde sir Bors, ‘be myne advyce, ye shall take the woo wyth the weall. And sytthyn hit ys fallyn as hit ys, I counceyle you to kepe youreselff, for and ye woll youreselffe there ys no felyshyp of knyghtes crystynde that shall do you wronge. And also I woll counceyle you, my lorde, that my lady quene Gwenyver, and she be in ony distres, insomuch as she ys in payne for youre sake, that ye knyghtly rescow here; for and ye ded ony other wyse all the worlde wolde speke you shame to the worldis ende. Insomuch as ye were takyn with her, whether ye ded ryght othir wronge, hit ys now youre parte to holde wyth the quene, that she be nat slayne and put to a myschevous deth. For and she so dye, the shame shall be evermore youres.’
‘Now Jesu deffende me from shame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘and kepe and save my lady the quene from vylany and shamefull dethe, and that she never be destroyed in my defaute! Wherefore, my fayre lordys, my kyn and my fryndis,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘what woll ye do?’
And anone they seyde all with one voyce, ‘We woll do as ye woll do.’
‘Than I put thys case unto you,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘that my lorde, kynge Arthur, by evyll counceile woll to-morne in hys hete put my lady the quene unto the fyre and there to be brente, than, I pray you, counceile me what ys beste for me to do.’
Than they seyde all at onys with one voice, ‘Sir, us thynkis beste that ye knyghtly rescow the quene. Insomuch as she shall be brente, hit ys for youre sake; and hit ys to suppose, and ye myght be handeled, ye shulde have the same dethe, othir ellis a more shamefuller dethe. And, sir, we say all that ye have rescowed her frome her deth many tymys for other mennes quarels; therefore us semyth hit ys more youre worshyp that ye rescow the quene from thys quarell, insomuch that she hath hit for your sake.’ Than sir Launcelot stood stylle and sayde, ‘My fayre lordis, wyte you well I wolde be lothe to do that thynge that shulde dishonour you or my bloode; and wyte you well I wolde be full lothe that my lady the quene shulde dye such a shamefull deth. But and hit be so that ye woll counceyle me to rescow her, I must do much harme or I rescow her, and peradventure I shall there destroy som of my beste fryndis, and that shold moche repente me. And peradventure there be som, and they coude wel brynge it aboute or disobeye my lord kynge Arthur, they wold sone come to me, the whiche I were loth to hurte. And if so be that I may wynne the quene away, where shall I kepe her?’
‘Sir, that shall be the leste care of us all,’ seyde sir Bors, ‘for how ded the moste noble knyght sir Trystram? By youre good wyll, kept nat he with hym La Beall Isode nere three yere in Joyous Garde, the whych was done by youre althers avyce? And that same place ys youre owne, and in lyke wyse may ye do, and ye lyst, and take the quene knyghtly away with you, if so be that the kynge woll jouge her to be brente. And in Joyous Garde may ye kepe her longe inowe untyll the hete be paste of the kynge, and than hit may fortune you to brynge the quene agayne to the kynge with grete worshyp, and peradventure ye shall have than thanke for youre bryngyng home, whether othir may happyn to have magré.’
‘That ys hard for to do,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for by sir Trystram I may have a warnynge: for whan by meanys of tretyse sir Trystram brought agayne La Beall Isode unto kynge Marke from Joyous Garde, loke ye now what felle on the ende, how shamefully that false traytour kyng Marke slew hym as he sate harpynge afore hys lady, La Beall Isode. Wyth a grounden glayve he threste hym in behynde to the harte, whych grevyth sore me,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘to speke of his dethe, for all the worlde may nat fynde such another knyght.’
‘All thys ys trouthe,’ seyde sir Bors, ‘but there ys one thyng shall corrayge you and us all: ye know well that kynge Arthur and kynge Marke were never lyke of condycions, for there was never yet man that ever coude preve kynge Arthur untrew of hys promyse.’
But so, to make shorte tale, they were all condiscended that, for bettir othir for wars, if so were that the quene were brought on that morne to the fyre, shortely they all wolde rescow here. And so by the advyce of sir Launcelot they put hem all in a bushement in a wood as nyghe Carlyle as they myght, and there they abode stylle to wyte what the kynge wold do.
[7] Now turne we agayne, that whan sir Mordred was ascaped frome sir Launcelot he gate hys horse and cam to kynge Arthur sore wounded and all forbled, and there he tolde the kynge all how hit was, and how they were all slayne save hymselff alone.
‘A, Jesu, mercy! How may thys be?’ seyde the kynge. ‘Toke ye hym in the quenys chambir?’
‘Yee, so God me helpe,’ seyde sir Mordred, ‘there we founde hym unarmed, and anone he slew sir Collgrevaunce and armed hym in hys armour.’
And so he tolde the kynge frome the begynnyng to the endynge.
‘Jesu mercy!’ seyde the kynge, ‘he ys a mervaylous knyght of proues. And alas,’ seyde the kynge, ‘me sore repentith that ever sir Launcelot sholde be ayenste me, for now I am sure the noble felyshyp of the Rounde Table ys brokyn for ever, for wyth hym woll many a noble knyght holde. And now hit ys fallen so,’ seyde the kynge, ‘that I may nat with my worshyp but my quene muste suffir dethe,’ and was sore amoved.
So than there was made grete ordynaunce in thys ire, and the quene muste nedis be jouged to the deth. And the law was such in the dayes that whatsomever they were, of what astate or degré, if they were founden gylty of treson there shuld be none other remedy but deth, and othir the menour other the takynge wyth the dede shulde be causer of their hasty jougement. And ryght so was hit ordayned for quene Gwenyver: bycause sir Mordred was ascaped sore wounded, and the dethe of thirtene knyghtes of the Rounde Table, thes prévis and experyenses caused kynge Arthur to commaunde the quene to the fyre and there to be brente.
Than spake sir Gawayn and seyde, ‘My lorde Arthure, I wolde counceyle you nat to be over hasty, but that ye wolde put hit in respite, thys jougemente of my lady the quene, for many causis. One ys thys, thoughe hyt were so that sir Launcelot were founde in the quenys chambir, yet hit myght be so that he cam thydir for none evyll. For ye know, my lorde,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that my lady the quene hath oftyntymes ben gretely beholdyn unto sir Launcelot, more than to ony othir knyght; for oftyntymes he hath saved her lyff and done batayle for her whan all the courte refused the quene. And peradventure she sente for hym for goodness and for none evyll, to rewarde hym for his good dedys that he had done to her in tymes past. And peraventure my lady the quene sente for hym to that entente, that sir Launcelot sholde a com prevaly to her, wenyng that hyt had be beste in eschewyng of slaundir; for oftyntymys we do many thynges that we wene for the beste be, and yet peradventure hit turnyth to the warste. For I dare sey,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘my lady, your quene, ys to you both good and trew. And as for sir Launcelot, I dare say he woll make hit good uppon ony knyght lyvyng that woll put uppon hym vylany or shame, and in lyke wyse he woll make good for my lady the quene.’
‘That I beleve well,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘but I woll nat that way worke with sir Launcelot, for he trustyth so much uppon hys hondis and hys myght that he doutyth no man. And therefore for my quene he shall nevermore fyght, for she shall have the law. And if I may gete sir Launcelot, wyte you well he shall have as shamefull a dethe.”Jesu defende me,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that I never se hit nor know hit.’
‘Why say you so?’ seyde kynge Arthur. ‘For, perdé, ye have no cause to love hym! For thys nyght last past he slew youre brothir sir Aggravayne, a full good knyght, and allmoste he had slayne youre othir brother, sir Mordred, and also there he slew thirtene noble knyghtes. And also remembir you, sir Gawayne, he slew two sunnes of youres, sir Florens and sir Lovell.’
‘My lorde,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘of all thys I have a knowleche, whych of her dethis sore repentis me. But insomuch as I gaff hem warnynge and tolde my brothir and my sonnes aforehonde what wolde falle on the ende, and insomuche as they wolde nat do be my counceyle, I woll nat meddyll me thereoff, nor revenge me nothynge of their dethys; for I tolde them there was no boote to stryve with sir Launcelot. Howbehit I am sory of the deth of my brothir and of my two sunnes, but they
ar the causars of their owne dethe; for oftyntymes I warned my brothir sir Aggravayne, and I tolde hym of the perellis the which ben now fallen.’
[8] Than seyde kynge Arthur unto sir Gawayne, ‘Make you redy, I pray you, in youre beste armour, wyth youre brethirn, sir Gaherys and sir Ga reth, to brynge my quene to the fyre and there to have her jougement.’
‘Nay, my moste noble kynge,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that woll I never do, for wyte you well I woll never be in that place where so noble a quene as ys my lady dame Gwenyver shall take such a shamefull ende. For wyte you well,’ seyde sir Gawayne, my harte woll nat serve me for to se her dye, and hit shall never be seyde that ever I was of youre counceyle for her deth.’
‘Than,’ seyde the kynge unto sir Gawayne, ‘suffir your brethirn sir Gaherys and sir Gareth to be there.’
‘My lorde,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘wyte you well they wyll be lothe to be there present bycause of many adventures that ys lyke to falle, but they ar yonge and full unable to say you nay.’
Than spake sir Gaherys and the good knyght sir Gareth unto kynge Arthur, ‘Sir, ye may well commande us to be there, but wyte you well hit shall be sore ayenste oure wyll. But and we be there by youre strayte commaundement, ye shall playnly holde us there excused: we woll be there in pesyble wyse, and beare none harneyse of warre uppon us.’
‘In the name of God,’ seyde the kynge, ‘than make you redy, for she shall have sone her jugemente.’
‘Alas,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that ever I shulde endure to se this wofull day!’
So sir Gawayne turned hym and wepte hartely, and so he wente into hys chambir. And so the quene was lad furthe withoute Carlyle, and anone she was dispoyled into her smokke. And than her gostely fadir was brought to her to be shryven of her myssededis. Than was there wepyng and waylynge and wryngyng of hondis of many lordys and ladyes; but there were but feaw in comparison that wolde beare ony armour for to strengthe the dethe of the quene.
Than was there one that sir Launcelot had sente unto that place, whych wente to aspye what tyme the quene shulde go unto her deth. And anone as he saw the quene dispoyled into her smok and shryvyn, than he gaff sir Launcelot warnynge anone. Than was there but spurryng and pluckyng up of horse, and ryght so they cam unto the fyre. And who that stoode ayenste them, there were they slayne; there myght none withstande sir Launcelot.
So all that bare armes and withstoode them, there were they slayne, full many a noble knyght. For there was slayne sir Bellyas le Orgulus, sir Segwarydes, sir Gryfflet, sir Braundyles, sir Agglovale, sir Tor; sir Gauter, sir Gyllymer, sir Raynold, three brethir, and sir Damas, sir Priamus, sir Kay le Straunge, sir Dryaunt, sir Lambegus, sir Hermynde, sir Pertolyp, sir Perymones, two brethren whych were called the Grene Knyght and the Red Knyght.
And so in thys russhynge and hurlynge, as sir Launcelot thrange here and there, hit mysfortuned hym to sle sir Gaherys and sir Gareth, the noble knyght, for they were unarmed and unwares. As the Freynshe booke sayth, sir Launcelot smote sir Gaherys and sir Gareth uppon the brayne-pannes, wherethorow that they were slayne in the felde. Howbehit in very trouth sir Launcelot saw them nat. And so were they founde dede amonge the thyckyste of the prees.
Than sir Launcelot, whan he had thus done, and slayne and put to flyght all that wolde wythstonde hym, than he rode streyt unto quene Gwenyver and made caste a kurdyll and a gown uppon her, and than he made her to be sette behynde hym and prayde her to be of good chere. Now wyte you well the quene was glad that she was at that tyme ascaped frome the deth, and than she thanked God and sir Launcelot.
And so he rode hys way wyth the quene, as the Freynshe booke seyth, unto Joyous Garde, and there he kepte her as a noble knyght shulde. And many grete lordis and many good knyghtes were sente hym, and many full noble knyghtes drew unto hym. Whan they harde that kynge Arthure and sir Launcelot were at debate many knyghtes were glad, and many were sory of their debate.
II. THE VENGEANCE OF SIR GAWAIN
[9] NOW turne we agayne unto kynge Arthure, that whan hit was tolde hym how and in what maner the quene was taken away frome the fyre, and whan he harde of the deth of his noble knyghtes, and in especiall sir Gaherys and sir Gareth, than he sowned for verry pure sorow. And whan he awooke of hys swoughe, than he sayde, ‘Alas, that ever I bare crowne uppon my hede! For now have I loste the fayryst felyshyp of noble knyghtes that ever hylde Crystyn kynge togydirs. Alas, my good knyghtes be slayne and gone away fro me, that now within thys two dayes I have loste nygh forty knyghtes and also the noble felyshyp of sir Launcelot and hys blood, for now I may nevermore holde hem togydirs with my worshyp. Now, alas, that ever thys warre began!
‘Now, fayre felowis,’ seyde the kynge, ‘I charge you that no man telle sir Gawayne of the deth of hys two brethirne, for I am sure,’ seyde the kynge, ‘whan he hyryth telle that sir Gareth ys dede, he wyll go nygh oute of hys mynde. Merci Jesu,’ seyde the kynge, ‘why slew he sir Gaherys and sir Gareth? For I dare sey, as for sir Gareth, he loved sir Launcelot of all men erthly.’
‘That ys trouth,’ seyde som knyghtes, ‘but they were slayne in the hurlynge, as sir Launcelot thrange in the thyckyst of the prees. And as they were unarmed, he smote them and wyst nat whom that he smote, and so unhappely they were slayne.’
‘Well,’ seyde Arthure, ‘the deth of them woll cause the grettist mortall warre that ever was, for I am sure that whan sir Gawayne knowyth hereoff that sir Gareth ys slayne, I shall never have reste of hym tyll I have destroyed sir Launcelottys kynne and hymselff bothe, othir ellis he to destroy me. And therefore,’ seyde the kynge, ‘wyte you well, my harte was never so hevy as hit ys now. And much more I — am soryar for my good knyghtes losse than for the losse of my fayre quene; for quenys I myght have inow, but such a felyship of good knyghtes shall never be togydirs in no company. And now I dare sey,’ seyde kynge Arthur, ‘there was never Crystyn kynge that ever hylde such a felyshyp togydyrs. And alas, that ever sir Launcelot and I shulde be at debate! A, Aggravayne, Aggravayne!’ seyde the kynge, ‘Jesu forgyff hit thy soule, for thyne evyll wyll that thou haddist and sir Mordred, thy brothir, unto sir Launcelot hath caused all this sorow.’
And ever amonge thes complayntes the kynge wepte and sowned. Than cam there one to sir Gawayne and tolde hym how the quene was lad away with sir Launcelot, and nygh a four-and-twenty knyghtes slayne.
‘A, Jesu, save me my two brethirn!’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘For full well wyst I,’ sayde sir Gawayne, ‘that sir Launcelot wolde rescow her, othir ellis he wolde dye in that fylde; and to say the trouth he were nat of worshyp but if he had rescowed the quene, insomuch as she shulde have be brente for his sake. And as in that,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘he hath done but knyghtly, and as I wolde have done myselff and I had stonde in lyke case. But where ar my brethirn?’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘I mervayle that I se nat of them.’
Than seyde that man, Truly, sir Gaherys and sir Gareth be slayne.’
‘Jesu deffende!’ seyd sir Gawayne. ‘For all thys worlde I wolde nat that they were slayne, and in especiall my good brothir sir Gareth.’
‘Sir,’ seyde the man, ‘he ys slayne, and that ys grete pité.’
‘Who slew hym?’ seyde sir Gawayne.
‘Sir Launcelot,’ seyde the man, slew hem both.’
‘That may I nat beleve,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘that ever he slew my good brother sir Gareth, for I dare say, my brothir loved hym bettir than me and all hys brethirn and the kynge bothe. Also I dare sey, an sir Launcelot had desyred my brothir sir Gareth with hym, he wolde have ben with hym ayenste the kynge and us all. And therefore I may never belyeve that sir Launcelot slew my brethern.”Veryly, sir,’ seyde the man, ‘hit ys noysed that he slew hym.’
[10] ‘Alas,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘now ys my joy gone!’
And than he felle downe and sowned, and longe he lay there as he had ben dede. And whan he arose oute of hys swoughe he cryed oute sorowfully and seyde, ‘Alas!’
And forthwith he ran unto the kynge, criyng and wepyng, and seyde, ‘A, myne uncle kynge Arthu
r! My good brother sir Gareth ys slayne, and so ys my brothir sir Gaherys, whych were two noble knyghtes.’
Than the kynge wepte and he bothe, and so they felle onsownynge. And whan they were revyved, than spake sir Gawayne and seyde, ‘Sir, I woll goo and se my brother sir Gareth.’
‘Sir, ye may nat se hym,’ seyde the kynge, ‘for I caused hym to be entered and sir Gaherys bothe, for I well undirstood that ye wolde make overmuche sorow, and the syght of sir Gareth shulde have caused youre double sorrow.’
‘Alas, my lorde,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘how slew he my brothir sir Gareth? I pray you telle me.’
‘Truly,’ seyde the kynge, ‘I shall tell you as hit hath bene tolde me: sir Launcelot slew hym and sir Gaherys both.’
‘Alas,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘they beare none armys ayenst hym, neyther of them bothe.’
‘I wote nat how hit was,’ seyde the kynge, ‘but as hit ys sayde, sir Launcelot slew them in the thyk prees and knew them nat. And therefore lat us shape a remedy for to revenge their dethys.’
‘My kynge, my lorde, and myne uncle,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘wyte you well, now I shall make you a promyse whych I shall holde be my knyghthode, that frome thys day forewarde I shall never fayle sir Launcelot untyll that one of us have slayne that othir. And therefore I requyre you, my lorde and kynge, dresse you unto the warre, for wyte you well, I woll be revenged uppon sir Launcelot; and therefore, as ye woll have my servyse and my love, now haste you thereto and assay youre frendis. For I promyse unto God,’ seyde sir Gawayn, ‘for the deth of my brothir, sir Gareth, I shall seke sir Launcelot thorowoute seven kynges realmys, but I shall sle hym, other ellis he shall sle me.’
‘Sir, ye shall nat nede to seke hym so far,’ seyde the kynge, ‘for as I here say, sir Launcelot woll abyde me and us all wythin the castell of Joyous Garde. And muche peple drawyth unto hym, as I here say.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 94