The World of Camelot

by Michael Foss

  And all answered one and another that they could not excuse the queen, for she had made the dinner.

  ‘Alas,’ wept the queen, ‘I made this dinner for a good intent, and never for no evil, so Almighty God help me in my right.’

  ‘Well,’ said the king heavily to Sir Mador, ‘in fifteen days be ready armed on horseback in the meadow beside Winchester. If any knight will encounter with you there, do your best and God speed the right. But if there be no knight at that day, then must my queen be burnt, and there she shall be ready for judgement.’

  ‘Sir, I am answered,’ said Sir Mador.

  Therewith the knights departed. And when the king and queen were alone together, he asked her how this case befell. Then she answered, ‘So help me God, I know not how or why.’

  ‘But where is Sir Lancelot?’ said Arthur. ‘If he were here he would not grudge to do battle for you.’

  ‘I know not where he is. His kinsmen deem that he is not within this realm.’

  ‘That I repent,’ said the king, ‘for he would soon stint this strife. But upon my life, Sir Bors will not refuse you, if only for Sir Lancelot’s sake. Of other knights that were with you at dinner, none will say well of you, and that shall be a great slander for you in this court.’

  ‘Alas,’ said Guenevere, ‘now I miss Sir Lancelot. He would put me soon at my heart’s ease.’

  ‘What ails you,’ asked the king, ‘that you cannot keep Sir Lancelot upon your side? Now go your way, and require Sir Bors to do battle for you, for Sir Lancelot’s sake.’

  So the queen sent for Bors unto her chamber and besought him of his help.

  ‘Madam,’ said he, ‘I was at that dinner and so I may not with honour have ado in this matter, for dread that many of those knights would have me in suspicion. Also, madam, now you have driven Sir Lancelot out of this country, I marvel how you dare for shame require me to do anything for you.’

  ‘Alas, fair knight,’ said she, ‘I put me wholly in your grace, and all that is done amiss I will amend.’ Therewith she knelt and besought Sir Bors to have mercy on her. Right so came King Arthur and discovered her kneeling.

  ‘Madam, you do me great dishonour,’ said Bors, and pulled her up.

  ‘Ah, courteous knight,’ said the king, ‘have mercy upon my queen, for I am certain she is untruly defamed. Therefore promise, gentle knight, to do battle for her. This I require you for the love of Sir Lancelot.’

  ‘My lord,’ replied Bors, ‘you require of me the greatest thing that any man may. But for my lord Lancelot’s sake, and for your sake, I will be the queen’s champion, unless there come by adventure a better knight to do battle for her.’

  Then Sir Bors departed secretly and rode unto Sir Lancelot at the hermitage and told him of all this adventure.

  ‘Ah Jesu,’ said Lancelot, ‘this is come happily as I would have it. I pray you make you ready to do battle, but tarry as long as you may till you see me arrive.’

  So it was agreed between them. But when the noise went about the court that Sir Bors should do battle for the queen, many knights were displeased with him. They deemed that the queen had done that treason. Then Sir Bors answered his fellows of the Round Table.

  ‘My lords,’ he said, ‘should we suffer the most noble queen of the world to be shamed openly? Consider King Arthur, her lord and our lord. He is the man of most worship in the world, the most christened, and he has ever honoured us in all places.’

  ‘As for our most noble king,’ they replied, ‘we love him and honour him as well as you do. But we love not Queen Guenevere, because she is a destroyer of good knights.’

  The day for the battle came on fast. On that morn, when the king was come with the queen unto the meadow beside Winchester, the queen was put in the constable’s ward and a great fire was made about an iron stake. If Sir Mador had the better of the battle, she should be burnt. For it was the custom in those days to show neither favour, nor love, nor affinity, but none other except righteous judgment, as well upon a king as upon a knight, as well upon a queen as upon any poor lady.

  Then Sir Mador called unto Sir Bors, ‘Make you ready, and we shall prove whether you of the queen’s party be in the right or I.’

  Therewith either departed to his tent and made ready. And anon Sir Mador came into the field fully armed and cried unto King Arthur, ‘Bid your champion come forth, if he dare.’

  But as Sir Bors took his horse and came to the lists’ end, he was aware of an armed knight riding fast from a wood upon a white horse, with a strange shield of strange arms. All in most great haste he clattered up to Sir Bors and said, ‘Fair knight, I pray you withdraw, for a better knight must have this battle and so it ought to be mine. And with all my heart I thank you for your good will.’

  ‘What knight is that?’ called out the king.

  ‘I know not,’ said Bors. ‘But now, my lord, here am I discharged.’

  ‘Will you fight for the queen?’ said Arthur to the knight.

  ‘Therefore came I hither,’ said he, ‘so tarry no longer, for I have ado many matters elsewhere. But know that it is dishonour to all knights of the Round Table to see so noble and courteous a queen thus to be rebuked and shamed amongst you.’

  Then they all marvelled what knight that might be, for none but Sir Bors knew him.

  So they couched their spears, and hurtled together so strongly down the lists that it seemed as if the earth shook. And they did mighty battle for nigh on an hour. At last the knight smote Sir Mador grovelling upon the ground. But Mador was a well-proved knight, and rising suddenly he struck an upwards blow that cleaved the knight through the thick of the thigh, and the blood ran out fiercely.

  When he felt himself wounded and saw the blood, this knight in wrath gave such a buffet on the helm that Mador fell flatting, and the knight strode to him to have off his head. But Sir Mador cried him mercy and prayed for his life, and yielded and released the queen of his quarrel.

  Therewith King Arthur, seeing all this, stooped down from his seat to the knight and thanked him, and likewise did the queen.

  ‘I pray you, fair sir,’ said the king, ‘put off your helm and repose you, and take for your pains a sop of wine.’

  Thus did the knight. And when he put off his helm to drink, every person knew that it was Sir Lancelot du Lake. At once, the king took the queen by the hand and went to Sir Lancelot and said, ‘Gramercy, sir, for your great travail this day for me and for my queen.’

  ‘My good lord,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I ought of right to be ever in your quarrel, and in my lady the queen’s. You are the man that gave me the high order of knighthood. And on that same day, when through my hastiness I lost my sword, my lady the queen found it and lapped it in her train and gave it me, or else I had been shamed among all knights. Therefore I promised her to be her knight in right or wrong.’

  ‘I thank you,’ said Arthur, ‘for this journey. And know well that I shall acquit your goodness.’

  And ever Queen Guenevere beheld Sir Lancelot and wept so tenderly she sank almost to the ground for very sorrow, for that he had shown such goodness to her who was unkind.

  Then it befell that Nimue, the Maiden of the Lake, she that had wedded the good knight Pelleas, came to the court to do as ever great service unto the court through her sorcery and enchantments. And when she heard of the death of Sir Patrise, she told it openly that the queen was never guilty. Then she named Sir Pinel, and how he had done it and for what cause. Thus was the queen excused, and Sir Pinel fled into his own country.

  So was there much gladness in the court, and games, and entertainments. And after Our Lady Day the king let cry a tournament at Camelot, that is also called Winchester. But the queen would not ride at that time, for she was sick. And many deemed that she stayed for the sake of Sir Lancelot, who was not yet whole from Sir Mador’s wound.

  Then the king was heavy and angry as he lodged towards Winchester with his fellowship in a town called Astolat, in English named Guildford. And for this cause,
the queen sent unto Sir Lancelot and said, ‘Sir, what will your enemies and mine say and deem? “See how Sir Lancelot holds him ever behind the king, so that he and the queen may have pleasure together.” Thus will they say.’

  ‘Madam,’ replied Lancelot, ‘of late you become wise. I will be ruled by your counsel, and tomorrow betimes I will take my way towards Camelot.’

  On the morrow early, as Sir Lancelot rode into Astolat for to take his lodging, King Arthur espied him from the garden and then knew well that Lancelot would come to the tournament and do marvels at the jousts. So the king smiled and went his way. But Sir Lancelot, who did not wish to be openly known, asked of his host Sir Bernard for the loan of a shield. Though this knight was unknown to Sir Bernard, he agreed to lend him the shield of his elder son. And since his younger son, Sir Lavaine, was also on the way to the tourney, in most courteous manner Lavaine would ride with Lancelot unto Camelot.

  Beside these sons, the old baron Sir Bernard had a daughter called the Fair Maiden of Astolat. And when she beheld Sir Lancelot she cast such a love unto him that she might never withdraw it. And her name was Elaine le Blank. In the heat of this love she went to Sir Lancelot and asked him to wear for her a token at the jousts.

  ‘Fair maiden,’ he answered, ‘that is more than ever I did before for lady or maid.’ But then he remembered him that he wished to be disguised, and none fellow or kinsman would ever know him under a token. Thus he granted it to her, and she showed him a sleeve of scarlet, embroidered with great pearls, for him to wear upon his helm.

  ‘Never before,’ he said smiling, ‘did I do so much for a maiden.’

  Then Lancelot and Lavaine rode unto Camelot, that was also called Winchester, with a great press of kings, dukes, earls, barons and many noble knights. But when the trumpet for the jousting sounded, Sir Lancelot drew him somewhat apart to a little leafy wood to see how went the field.

  ‘See yonder,’ said Sir Lancelot to Sir Lavaine, ‘there is a company of good knights, and they hold together as boars that were worried with dogs.’

  Then these two knights came in at the thickest of the press, and those on their side that had gone fast backwards soon went fast forwards.

  ‘O mercy Jesu,’ cried Sir Gawain, ‘what knight is yonder doing such deeds of arms? I would say it were Sir Lancelot by his riding and his buffets, but he bears a red sleeve upon his helm, and I never knew Sir Lancelot bear any token of lady or gentlewoman.’

  ‘I know what he is,’ said Arthur. ‘But let him be. He will do more and be better known before ever he depart.’

  After long time, and many grievous battles, the king blew unto lodging, and the heralds gave the prize unto the knight with the white shield that bore the red sleeve.

  But in that day’s fighting Sir Lancelot was sore hurt, with a spear that broke its shaft still in his side. So he took no account of the prize but, groaning piteously, rode a great gallop nigh on a mile, till he came privily to a little hidden wood. And with him rode Sir Lavaine to do him service. In the safety of the trees, Lancelot said with a high, weak voice, ‘Gentle Lavaine, help me take this shaft from my side. It sticks so sore that it nigh slays me.’

  At this asking, Sir Lavaine gripped the shaft and pulled it out. Therewith Lancelot gave a shriek and a marvellous grisly groan, and near a pint of blood burst from him, so he sank upon his buttocks and swooned pale and deadly. Lavaine turned him into the wind, but still Lancelot lay as if dead. At last he cast open his eyes and begged Lavaine to help him to his horse, for to ride him but two miles to a hermitage where lived Sir Baudwin, some time a noble knight, but now in wilful poverty, and a surgeon and a good doctor.

  When Sir Baudwin beheld the wounded knight as he leant upon his saddlebow, ever bleeding, he would have known him had he not been so pale and grimly for loss of blood. Then the hermit came closer and saw by a scar on the cheek that he was Sir Lancelot, and so he greeted him.

  Then Baudwin called servants and lightly unarmed Sir Lancelot, and laid him in bed. And anon he staunched the blood, and made him drink good wine, so that Lancelot was well refreshed and knew himself. For in those days the guise of hermits was not as it is now. In those days hermits had been men of worship and prowess, and held great household, and refreshed people in distress.

  Meanwhile, after the tournament, King Arthur and all the fellowship turned unto London again. And it happened that Sir Gawain rode by way of Astolat and lodged with Sir Bernard, to whom he gave tidings of the jousts, and of the mighty deeds of arms done by the knight that bore the red sleeve.

  ‘Now I thank God,’ said fair Elaine when she heard all this, ‘that the knight sped so well. For he is the man in the world that I first loved, and truly he shall be the last.’

  ‘Fair maid,’ said Gawain, ‘is that good knight your love?’

  ‘Certainly sir, he is my love.’

  ‘Then know you his name?’

  ‘Nay truly, I know not his name nor from whence he comes, but I love him.’

  Then Sir Bernard told Sir Gawain how it was that this knight had changed his shield for to be disguised, and how he left his own shield in the household. Then that shield was fetched out by Elaine and Sir Gawain knew it at once, that it was Sir Lancelot’s shield.

  ‘Ah Jesu mercy,’ said Gawain, ‘now my heart is heavy. Is the knight that owns this shield your love?’

  ‘Yea, truly, he is my love. God would I were his love.’

  ‘Well, God grant you fair grace,’ said Gawain. ‘But know you well, he is grievously wounded, by all manner of signs. And know you also that he is the noble knight Sir Lancelot, for by this shield I find him out.’

  Then, at once, fair Elaine desired to seek her love, or else she would go out of her mind. And Sir Bernard gave her leave to ride in this search. Therewith Sir Gawain departed from Astolat and came unto the court in London, and openly disclosed that the knight who jousted best was Sir Lancelot.

  ‘All this I knew beforehand,’ said King Arthur. ‘But I marvel that ever he would bear a token for any maiden, for I never knew or heard say that he ever bore any token of earthly woman.’

  ‘By my head,’ said Gawain, ‘this Fair Maiden of Astolat loves him marvellously well. But what it means I cannot say.’

  But when word came to Queen Guenevere that Sir Lancelot had carried the red sleeve of Elaine, she was near slain for wrath. She sent in all haste for Sir Bors and lamented Lancelot’s falsehood.

  ‘Alas, madam,’ said Bors, ‘I fear he has betrayed himself and us all.’

  ‘No matter though he be destroyed,’ replied the queen, ‘for he is a false traitor knight that he should bear the red sleeve. Fie on him!’

  In the meantime fair Elaine had clamoured unto her brother Sir Lavaine to take her to the hermitage where Sir Lancelot lay. Then Lavaine brought her to that place, and when she saw Lancelot so sick and pale in his bed, she fell suddenly in a swoon. After a long while she waked and cried, ‘My lord, Sir Lancelot, alas why be you in this plight?’ And then she swooned again.

  When she came to herself, Sir Lancelot kissed her most gently and said, ‘Fair maiden, why fare you thus? You put me to pain, more so than this little hurt from which I shall be right hastily whole, by the grace of God. But I repent me that my name is known, for I am sure it will turn unto anger.’

  Then this maid Elaine never went from Sir Lancelot, but watched him day and night with such attendance that there was never woman more kindlier of man than she.

  After a little time Sir Bors was also sent thither by the word of Lavaine. He leant upon the bedside and told Sir Lancelot what passed in the court, and how the queen was angry with him beyond telling for bearing the red sleeve upon his helm.

  ‘But is this she,’ Bors went on, ‘that is so busy about you, whom men call the Fair Maiden of Astolat?’

  ‘She it is,’ answered Lancelot, ‘and by no means can I put her from me.’

  ‘Why should you?’ said Bors. ‘She is truly a fair maiden, well beseen and well taught. You
could love her, but as to that I dare not counsel you. She is not the first lady that has lost her pain upon you, and that is the more pity.’

  And ever Elaine did her diligent labour unto Sir Lancelot night and day, that there was never child nor wife more meek to father or husband than was this Fair Maiden of Astolat.

  At last came the time when Sir Lancelot was ready to depart the hermitage. Upon that morn, fair Elaine came with her father and her two brothers to see him ride his way.

  ‘Now fair and courteous knight,’ she said to him with tears in her eyes, ‘have mercy upon me and suffer me not to die for your love.’

  ‘What would you that I did?’ said Lancelot gently.

  ‘I would have you to my husband,’ replied Elaine.

  ‘Fair maiden, I thank you,’ said he, ‘but truly I cast me never to be a wedded man.’

  ‘Then, fair knight,’ she said, ‘will you be my paramour?’

  ‘Jesu defend me, for then I reward your father and your brother full evil for their great goodness.’

  ‘Alas, then must I die for your love.’

  ‘Nay, you shall not so,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘Because you love me as you say you do, to whatsoever good knight that will wed you, I shall give you together a thousand pound yearly to you and to your heirs.’

  ‘Of all this I will none,’ answered Elaine. ‘Except you wed me, or be my paramour at the least, know well, Sir Lancelot, that my good days are done.’

  ‘Fair madam,’ replied he, ‘of these two things you must pardon me.’

  And so he took his leave and turned again unto King Arthur and the court whole and sound. Then the king made great joy of him, and so did all the knights of the Round Table except Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred. But Queen Guenevere was mad angry with Sir Lancelot, and estranged herself from him. He made all means to speak with her, but she would not have it.

  Meanwhile fair Elaine sorrowed day and night, and never slept, nor ate, nor drank. Thus she endured ten days, growing so feebled that she needs must pass out of this world. In this despair she shrived her clean, and received her Creator. But still and ever she complained upon Sir Lancelot, till her ghostly father bade her leave these thoughts.