So this avysyon came to Launcelot thryse in one nyght. Than syr [11] Launcelot rose up or day and tolde the heremyte.
‘It were wel done,’ sayd the heremyte, ‘that ye made you redy and that ye dyshobeye not the avysyon.’
Than syr Launcelot toke his seven felowes with hym, and on fote they yede from Glastynburye to Almysburye, the whyche is lytel more than thirty myle, and thyder they came within two dayes, for they were wayke and feble to goo.
And whan syr Launcelot was come to Almysburye within the nunerye, quene Guenever deyed but halfe an oure afore. And the ladyes tolde syr Launcelot that quene Guenever tolde hem al or she passyd that syr Launcelot had ben preest nere a twelve-monthe: ‘and hyder he cometh as faste as he may to fetche my cors, and besyde my lord kyng Arthur he shal berye me.’ Wherefore the quene sayd in heryng of hem al,’I beseche Almyghty God that I may never have power to see syr Launcelot wyth my worldly eyen!’
‘And thus,’ said al the ladyes, ‘was ever hir prayer these two dayes tyl she was dede.’
Than syr Launcelot sawe hir vysage, but he wepte not gretelye, but syghed. And so he dyd al the observaunce of the servyce hymself, bothe the dyryge and on the morne he sange masse. And there was ordeyned an hors-bere, and so wyth an hondred torches ever brennyng aboute the cors of the quene and ever syr Launcelot with his eyght felowes wente aboute the hors-bere, syngyng and redyng many an holy oryson, and frankensens upon the corps encensed.
Thus syr Launcelot and his eyght felowes wente on foot from Almysburye unto Glastynburye; and whan they were come to the chapel and the hermytage, there she had a dyryge wyth grete devocyon. And on the morne the heremyte that somtyme was Bysshop of Canterburye sange the masse of Requyem wyth grete devocyon, and syr Launcelot was the fyrst that offeryd, and than als his eyght felowes. And than she was wrapped in cered clothe of Raynes, from the toppe to the too, in thirtyfolde; and after she was put in a webbe of leed, and than in a coffyn of marbyl.
And whan she was put in th’ erth syr Launcelot swouned, and laye longe stylle, whyle the hermyte came and awaked hym, and sayd, ‘Ye be to blame, for ye dysplese God with suche maner of sorowmakyng.’
‘Truly,’ sayd syr Launcelot, ‘I trust I do not dysplese God, for He knoweth myn entente: for my sorow was not, nor is not, for ony rejoysyng of synne, but my sorow may never have ende. For whan I remembre of hir beaulté and of hir noblesse, that was bothe wyth hyr kyng and wyth hyr, so whan I sawe his corps and hir corps so lye togyders, truly myn herte wold not serve to susteyne my careful body. Also whan I remembre me how by my defaute and myn orgule and my pryde that they were bothe layed ful lowe, that were pereles that ever was lyvyng of Cristen people, wyt you wel,’ sayd syr Launcelot, ‘this remembred, of their kyndenes and myn unkyndenes, sanke so to myn herte that I myght not susteyne myself.’ So the Frensshe book maketh mencyon.
[12] Thenne syr Launcelot never after ete but lytel mete, nor dranke, tyl he was dede, for than he seekened more and more and dryed and dwyned awaye. For the Bysshop nor none of his felowes myght not make hym to ete and lytel he dranke, that he was waxen by a kybbet shorter than he was, that the peple coude not knowe hym. For evermore, day and nyght, he prayed, but somtyme he slombred a broken slepe. Ever he was lyeng grovelyng on the tombe of kyng Arthur and quene Guenever, and there was no comforte that the Bysshop, nor syr Bors, nor none of his felowes coude make hym, it avaylled not.
Soo wythin syx wekys after, syr Launcelot fyl seek and laye in his bedde. And thenne he sente for the Bysshop that there was heremyte, and al his trewe felowes.
Than syr Launcelot sayd wyth drery steven, ‘Syr Bysshop, I praye you gyve to me al my ryghtes that longeth to a Crysten man.’
‘It shal not nede you,’ sayd the heremyte and al his felowes, ‘it is but hevynesse of your blood. Ye shal be wel mended by the grace of God to-morne.’
‘My fayr lordes,’ sayd syr Launcelot, ‘wyt you wel my careful body wyll into th’ erthe, I have warnyng more than now I wyl say. Therfore gyve me my ryghtes.’
So whan he was howselyd and enelyd and had al that a Crysten man ought to have, he prayed the Bysshop that his felowes myght bere his body to Joyous Garde. Somme men say it was Anwyk, and somme men say it was Bamborow.
‘Howbeit,’ sayd syr Launcelot, me repenteth sore, but I made myn avowe somtyme that in Joyous Garde I wold be buryed. And bycause of brekyng of myn avowe, I praye you al, lede me thyder.’ Than there was wepyng and wryngyng of handes among his felowes.
So at a seson of the nyght they al wente to theyr beddes, for they alle laye in one chambre. And so after mydnyght, ayenst day, the Bysshop that was hermyte, as he laye in his bedde aslepe, he fyl upon a grete laughter. And therwyth al the felyshyp awoke and came to the Bysshop and asked hym what he eyled.
‘A, Jesu mercy!’ sayd the Bysshop, ‘why dyd ye awake me? I was never in al my lyf so mery and so wel at ease.’
‘Wherfore?’ sayd syr Bors.
‘Truly,’ sayd the Bysshop, ‘here was syr Launcelot with me, with me angellis than ever I sawe men in one day. And I sawe the angellys heve up syr Launcelot unto heven, and the yates of heven opened ayenst hym.’
‘It is but dretchyng of swevens,’ sayd syr Bors, ‘for I doubte not syr Launcelot ayleth nothynge but good.’
‘It may wel be,’ sayd the Bysshop. ‘Goo ye to his bedde, and than shall ye preve the soth.’
So whan syr Bors and his felowes came to his bedde they founde hym starke dede; and he laye as he had smyled, and the swettest savour aboute hym that ever they felte. Than was there wepynge and wryngyng of handes, and the grettest dole they made that ever made men.
And on the morne the Bysshop dyd his masse of Requyem, and after the Bysshop and al the nine knyghtes put syr Launcelot in the same hors-bere that quene Guenevere was layed in tofore that she was buryed. And soo the Bysshop and they al togyders wente wyth the body of syr Launcelot dayly, tyl they came to Joyous Garde; and ever they had an hondred torches brennyng aboute hym.
And so within fyftene dayes they came to Joyous Garde. And there they layed his corps in the body of the quere, and sange and redde many saulters and prayers over hym and aboute hym. And ever his vysage was layed open and naked, that al folkes myght beholde hym; for suche was the custom in the dayes that al men of worshyp shold so lye wyth open vysage tyl that they were buryed.
And ryght thus as they were at theyr servyce, there came syr Ector de Maris that had seven yere sought al Englond, Scotland, and [13] Walys, sekyng his brother, syr Launcelot. And whan syr Ector herde suche noyse and lyghte in the quyre of Joyous Garde, he alyght and put his hors from hym and came into the quyre. And there he sawe men synge and wepe, and al they knewe syr Ector, but he knewe not them.
Than wente syr Bors unto syr Ector and tolde hym how there laye his brother, syr Launcelot, dede. And than syr Ector threwe hys shelde, swerde, and helme from hym, and whan he behelde syr Launcelottes vysage he fyl down in a swoun. And whan he waked it were harde ony tonge to telle the doleful complayntes that he made for his brother.
‘A, Launcelot!’ he sayd, ‘thou were hede of al Crysten knyghtes! And now I dare say,’ sayd syr Ector, ‘thou sir Launcelot, there thou lyest, that thou were never matched of erthely knyghtes hande. And thou were the curtest knyght that ever bare shelde! And thou were the truest frende to thy lovar that ever bestrade hors, and thou were the trewest lover of a synful man that ever loved woman, and thou were the kyndest man that ever strake wyth swerde. And thou were the godelyest persone that ever cam emonge prees of knyghtes, and thou was the mekest man and the jentyllest that ever ete in halle emonge ladyes, and thou were the sternest knyght to thy mortal foo that ever put spere in the reeste.’
Than there was wepyng and dolour out of mesure.
Thus they kepte syr Launcelots corps on-lofte fyftene dayes, and than they buryed it with grete devocyon. And than at leyser they wente al with the Bysshop of Canterburye to his ermytage, and there they were togyder more than a monthe.
Than syr Costantyn that was syr
Cadores sone of Cornwayl was chosen kyng of England, and he was a ful noble knyght, and worshypfully he rulyd this royame. And than thys kyng Costantyn sent for the Bysshop of Caunterburye, for he herde saye where he was.
And so he was restored unto his bysshopryche and lefte that ermytage, and syr Bedwere was there ever styile heremyte to his lyves ende.
Than syr Bors de Ganys, syr Ector de Maris, syr Gahalantyne, syr Galyhud, sir Galyhodyn, syr Blamour, syr Bleoberys, syr Wyllyars le Valyaunt, syr Clarrus of Cleremounte, al these knyghtes drewe them to theyr contreyes. Howbeit kyng Costantyn wold have had them wyth hym, but they wold not abyde in this royame. And there they al lyved in their cuntreyes as holy men.
And somme Englysshe bookes maken mencyon that they wente never oute of Englond after the deth of syr Launcelot — but that was but favour of makers! For the Frensshe book maketh mencyon — and is auctorysed — that syr Bors, syr Ector, syr Blamour and syr Bleoberis wente into the Holy Lande, thereas Jesu Cryst was quycke and deed. And anone as they had stablysshed theyr londes, for, the book saith, so syr Launcelot commaunded them for to do or ever he passyd oute of thys world, there these foure knyghtes dyd many bataylles upon the myscreantes, or Turkes. And there they dyed upon a Good Fryday for Goddes sake.
HERE IS THE ENDE OF THE HOOLE BOOK OF KYNG ARTHUR AND OF HIS NOBLE KNYGHTES OF THE ROUNDE TABLE, THAT WHAN THEY WERE HOLE TOGYDERS THERE WAS EVER AN HONDRED AND FORTY. AND HERE IS THE ENDE OF THE DETH OF ARTHUR.
I PRAYE YOU ALL JENTYLMEN AND JENTYLWYMMEN THAT REDETH THIS BOOK OF ARTHUR AND HIS KNYGHTES FROM THE BEGYNNYNG TO THE ENDYNGE, PRAYE FOR ME WHYLE I AM ON LYVE THAT GOD SENDE ME GOOD DELYVERAUNCE. AND WHAN I AM DEED, I PRAYE YOU ALL PRAYE FOR MY SOULE.
FOR THIS BOOK WAS ENDED THE NINTH YERE OF THE REYGNE OF KING EDWARD THE FOURTH, BY SYR THOMAS MALEORE, KNYGHT, AS JESU HELPE HYM FOR HYS GRETE MYGHT, AS HE IS THE SERVAUNT OF JESU BOTHE DAY AND NYGHT.
LE MORTE DARTHUR – CAXTON MODERNISED VERSION
CONTENTS
BOOK I
BOOK II.
BOOK III.
BOOK IV.
BOOK V.
BOOK VI.
BOOK VII.
BOOK VIII
BOOK IX.
BOOK X
BOOK XI.
BOOK XII.
BOOK XIII.
BOOK XIV.
BOOK XV.
BOOK XVI.
BOOK XVII.
BOOK XVIII.
BOOK XIX.
BOOK XX.
BOOK XXI.
GLOSSARY
Detailed table of contents
William Caxton (c. 1415–1492) was an English merchant, diplomat, writer and printer. He is thought to be the first English person to work as a printer and the first to introduce a printing press into England, which he did in 1476. He published Le Morte Darthur in 1485.
William Caxton printer’s device
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
THE Morte D’Arthur was finished, as the epilogue tells us, in the ninth year of Edward IV., i.e. between March 4, 1469 and the same date in 1470. It is thus, fitly enough, the last important English book written before the introduction of printing into this country, and since no manuscript of it has come down to us it is also the first English classic for our knowledge of which we are entirely dependent on a printed text. Caxton’s story of how the book was brought to him and he was induced to print it may be read farther on in his own preface. From this we learn also that he was not only the printer of the book, but to some extent its editor also, dividing Malory’s work into twenty-one books, splitting up the books into chapters, by no means skilfully, and supplying the “Rubrish” or chapter-headings. It may be added that Caxton’s preface contains, moreover, a brief criticism which, on the points on which it touches, is still the soundest and most sympathetic that has been written.
Caxton finished his edition the last day of July 1485, some fifteen or sixteen years after Malory wrote his epilogue. It is clear that the author was then dead, or the printer would not have acted as a clumsy editor to the book, and recent discoveries (if bibliography may, for the moment, enlarge its bounds to mention such matters) have revealed with tolerable certainty when Malory died and who he was. In letters to The Athenaeum in July 1896 Mr. T. Williams pointed out that the name of a Sir Thomas Malorie occurred among those of a number of other Lancastrians excluded from a general pardon granted by Edward IV. in 1468, and that a William Mallerye was mentioned in the same year as taking part in a Lancastrian rising. In September 1897, again, in another letter to the same paper, Mr. A. T. Martin reported the finding of the will of a Thomas Malory of Papworth, a hundred partly in Cambridgeshire, partly in Hunts. This will was made on September 16, 1469, and as it was proved the 27th of the next month the testator must have been in immediate expectation of death. It contains the most careful provision for the education and starting in life of a family of three daughters and seven sons, of whom the youngest seems to have been still an infant. We cannot say with certainty that this Thomas Malory, whose last thoughts were so busy for his children, was our author, or that the Lancastrian knight discovered by Mr. Williams was identical with either or both, but such evidence as the Morte D’Arthur offers favours such a belief. There is not only the epilogue with its petition, “pray for me while I am alive that God send me good deliverance and when I am dead pray you all for my soul,” but this very request is foreshadowed at the end of cha of Book ix. in the touching passage, surely inspired by personal experience, as to the sickness “that is the greatest pain a prisoner may have”; and the reflections on English fickleness in the first chapter of Book xxi., though the Wars of the Roses might have inspired them in any one, come most naturally from an author who was a Lancastrian knight.
If the Morte D’Arthur was really written in prison and by a prisoner distressed by ill-health as well as by lack of liberty, surely no task was ever better devised to while away weary hours. Leaving abundant scope for originality in selection, modification, and arrangement, as a compilation and translation it had in it that mechanical element which adds the touch of restfulness to literary work. No original, it is said, has yet been found for Book vii., and it is possible that none will ever be forthcoming for cha of Book xviii., which describes the arrival of the body of the Fair Maiden of Astolat at Arthur’s court, or vii for cha of the same book, with its discourse on true love; but the great bulk of the work has been traced chapter by chapter to the “Merlin” of Robert de Borron and his successors (Bks. i.-iv.), the English metrical romance La Morte Arthur of the Thornton manuscript (Bk. v.), the French romances of Tristan (Bks. viii.-x.) and of Launcelot (Bks. vi., xi.-xix.), and lastly to the English prose Morte Arthur of Harley MS. 2252 (Bks. xviii., xx., xxi.). As to Malory’s choice of his authorities critics have not failed to point out that now and again he gives a worse version where a better has come down to us, and if he had been able to order a complete set of Arthurian manuscripts from his bookseller, no doubt he would have done even better than he did! But of the skill, approaching to original genius, with which he used the books from which he worked there is little dispute.
Malory died leaving his work obviously unrevised, and in this condition it was brought to Caxton, who prepared it for the press with his usual enthusiasm in the cause of good literature, and also, it must be added, with his usual carelessness. New chapters are sometimes made to begin in the middle of a sentence, and in addition to simple misprints there are numerous passages in which it is impossible to believe that we have the text as Malory intended it to stand. After Caxton’s edition Malory’s manuscript must have disappeared, and subsequent editions are differentiated only by the degree of closeness with which they follow the first. Editions appeared printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1498 and 1529, by William Copland in 1559, by Thomas East about 1585, and by Thomas Stansby in 1634, each printer apparently taking the text of his immediate predecessor and reproducing it with modifications. Stansby’s edition served for reprints in 1816 and 1856 (the latter edited by Thomas
Wright); but in 1817 an edition supervised by Robert Southey went back to Caxton’s text, though to a copy (only two are extant, and only one perfect!) in which eleven leaves were supplied from Wynkyn de Worde’s reprint. In 1868 Sir Edward Strachey produced for the present publishers a reprint of Southey’s text in modern spelling, with the substitution of current words for those now obsolete, and the softening of a handful of passages likely, he thought, to prevent the book being placed in the hands of boys. In 1889 a boon was conferred on scholars by the publication of Dr. H. Oskar Sommer’s page-for-page reprint of Caxton’s text, with an elaborate discussion of Malory’s sources. Dr. Sommer’s edition was used by Sir E. Strachey to revise his Globe text, and in 1897 Mr. Israel Gollancz produced for the “Temple Classics” a very pretty edition in which Sir Edward Strachey’s principles of modernisation in spelling and punctuation were adopted, but with the restoration of obsolete words and omitted phrases. As to the present edition, Sir Edward Strachey altered with so sparing a hand that on many pages differences between his version and that here printed will be looked for in vain; but the most anxious care has been taken to produce a text modernised as to its spelling, but in other respects in accurate accordance with Caxton’s text, as represented by Dr Sommer’s reprint. Obvious misprints have been silently corrected, but in a few cases notes show where emendations have been introduced from Wynkyn de Worde — not that Wynkyn had any more right to emend Caxton than we, but because even a printer’s conjecture gains a little sanctity after four centuries. The restoration of obsolete words has necessitated a much fuller glossary, and the index of names has therefore been separated from it and enlarged. In its present form the index is the work of Mr. Henry Littlehales.
A. W. POLLARD.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 100