by Michael Foss
At this time, as Sir Lancelot was galloping all that he might, Queen Guenevere was brought to the fire ready to be burnt. And ever Sir Meliagaunt cried upon King Arthur to do him justice, or else bring forth Sir Lancelot to do battle. Then were king and court full sore abashed and shamed that the queen should be burnt in the default of Sir Lancelot.
‘My lord king,’ said Sir Lavaine, ‘all is not well with Sir Lancelot. Surely he is sick or in prison, or else he would be here. Therefore, my lord, I beseech you give me licence to do battle on behalf of my master, and for to save my lady the queen.’
‘Gramercy gentle Lavaine,’ said the king, ‘for I dare say my queen is hereby wronged. I have spoken with the ten wounded knights, and there is not one of them, were he whole, but he would prove this falsehood upon Sir Meliagaunt’s body. Therefore I give you leave, and do your best, for some treason has detained Sir Lancelot.’
Therewith Sir Lavaine hastily took arms and horse, and rode of a sudden to the end of the lists. But right as the heralds should cry Lesses les aler to begin the battle, right so came in Sir Lancelot, driving forwards his courser with furious pace.
‘Ho,’ cried Sir Lancelot. ‘Abide!’
At once Sir Lancelot was called on horseback before King Arthur. There he told the king openly how Sir Meliagaunt had served him first and last. Then there was no more to say, but Sir Lancelot and Sir Meliagaunt dressed them unto battle. They couched their spears and came together like thunder. But Sir Lancelot bore so heavily upon Meliagaunt that he drove him over his horse’s croup. Then Lancelot dashed him to the earth, and gave him such a buffet on the helm that all his head did ring and tears of woe did start from his eyes. At this he cried aloud, ‘Most noble knight, Sir Lancelot, save my life.’
Sir Lancelot knew not what to do. He would rather have been revenged upon Sir Meliagaunt than have all the good of the world. In doubt, he looked towards Queen Guenevere for a sign. Then the queen wagged her head as though she would say, ‘Slay him’. And full well Sir Lancelot knew that she would have Meliagaunt dead.
Therefore he said to Sir Meliagaunt, ‘Rise, sir, for shame, and perform this battle to the utterance.’
‘Nay,’ he replied. ‘I will never arise until you take me as yielded and recreant.’
‘Well then, look what I shall proffer you,’ said Lancelot. ‘I shall unarm my head and my left quarter, and bind my left hand behind me. Right so I shall do battle with you.’
Therewith Sir Meliagaunt started up on his legs and called up on high, ‘My lord Arthur, take heed of this proffer, for I will accept it.’
‘What say you,’ asked the king doubtfully to Lancelot, ‘will you abide by this?’
‘Yea, my lord, once said then I shall never go back.’
So the parters of the field disarmed Sir Lancelot and bound his left arm behind his back, without shield. And when the onlookers saw this, many a lady and knight marvelled that he would jeopardy himself in such a wise.
When Lancelot was trussed in this way Sir Meliagaunt came at him with sword all on high, and Lancelot showed him openly his bare head and side. Thus he brought him to the over-hasty stroke. Sir Lancelot, by sleight and dexterousness, avoided the blow and turned it back with such greater force that the head of Sir Meliagaunt was carved in two parts. Without more ado Meliagaunt was drawn dead out of the field. Queen Guenevere was released from the quarrel, and she and the king made more of Sir Lancelot du Lake, and more was he cherished, than ever beforehand.
Now at this time there came into the realms of Britain a knight from the land of Hungary, and his name was Sir Urré. Some years before, at a tournament in Spain, he had slain a good knight, but in this battle he had received seven great wounds, three on the head and four on the body. The Spanish knight that he slew had a mother, and she was a great sorceress. When she saw her son dead, by her subtle crafts she wrought that Sir Urré should never be whole of his wounds, but ever they should fester and bleed, until the best knight of the world had searched these wounds.
Then Sir Urré was put on a horse-litter with two palfreys, and his mother and his sister, the fair Felelolie, led him through many countries. Seven years did they take him through all lands christened, and never could they find a knight to ease him.
At the end of this time they came by fortune unto Scotland and then they roamed into the bounds of England just nigh the feast of Pentecost, when King Arthur and all his court were met together at Carlisle for the satisfaction of that feast. And when the king heard that these strangers were come, he sent unto the mother of Sir Urré to know of their adventure.
‘You are right welcome,’ said the king. ‘If ever Christian man may heal him, here shall it be. And to give all other honourable men courage, I myself will assay to handle your son, and then by my command will others follow me, kings, dukes and earls.’ And the king commanded all those of the Round Table present, to the number of a hundred and ten, to make ready themselves for an assay in the healing of Sir Urré.
Therewith the Hungarian knight was brought unto King Arthur and taken off his litter, and laid upon the earth with a cushion of gold under him.
‘Fair knight,’ said Arthur, ‘I repent me of your hurt. To courage other noble knights, I will pray you to suffer me softly to handle your wounds.’
‘Most noble christened king,’ said Urré, ‘do as you wish. I am at the mercy of God, and at your command.’
Then King Arthur softly handled him, but still some of his wounds wept and bled. And so tried all the good nobles of the court, kings, barons and knights, to no end. Among these knights were many of Sir Lancelot’s kin, but he himself was not there, being at that time upon his adventures. All these hundred knights and ten searched Sir Urré’s wounds, by the command of King Arthur, but no cure was done thereby.
After their assay, as they stood talking of many things and knew not what further to do, they espied Sir Lancelot come riding home from his deeds of arms.
‘Peace,’ said the king, ‘let no manner of thing be said till he is ready among us.’
Anon, as the maid Felelolie saw Sir Lancelot, she ran to Sir Urré and said, ‘Brother, here is a knight unto whom my heart gives greatly.’
‘Fair sister,’ he replied, ‘so does my heart light against him.’
When Sir Lancelot was descended from his horse and welcomed at court, King Arthur sent for him and told him what had passed with the Hungarian knight. ‘You must search his wounds,’ said the king, ‘as we have done.’
‘Jesu defend me,’ answered Lancelot, ‘when so many noble men have assayed and failed, that I should presume upon me to achieve it.’
‘You shall not choose,’ said Arthur, ‘for I will command you.’
‘My most renowned lord, you know I dare not disobey your command. But Jesu defend me from the shame that I should think to pass all other knights.’
‘You take me wrong.’ said the king. ‘You shall not do it for presumption, but to bear us all fellowship as a knight of the Round Table. And know well, if you prevail not, then no knight in this land may heal him.’
At this Sir Urré sat up weakly and said, ‘Courteous Knight, for God’s sake heal my wounds, for methinks ever since you came here my wounds grieve me not so much.’
So Sir Lancelot knelt down by Sir Urré and held up both his hands. He looked to the east and said secretly, ‘Blessed Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I beseech You of your mercy that my simple worship and honesty be saved. And You, blessed Trinity, give power to heal this sick knight by Your virtue and grace, but never of myself.’
Still kneeling, devoutly Sir Lancelot ransacked the wounds. They bled a little, then forthwith healed fair, as if they had been whole all seven years. When they saw this, King Arthur and all the court knelt and gave thanks and lovings unto God and to His blessed Mother. And ever Sir Lancelot wept as if he had been a beaten child.
King Arthur looked on Sir Urré, and saw that he was well made and big. Then he asked him how he felt himself.
‘M
y good lord, now I feel myself never so lusty.’
‘Will you joust and do deeds of arms?’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Urré, ‘if it might please me to joust, I would be soon ready.’
The Greatest Mortal War Betwixt Arthur and Lancelot
Welcome merry May again, when every heart flourishes and burgeons. Winter with his rough winds and blasts causes a lusty man and woman to cower and sit fast by the fire; but man and woman rejoice and make glad when summer comes with his fresh flowers.
But in this season in the month of May there befell a great anger and unhappiness that stinted not till the flower of chivalry of all the world was destroyed and slain. And all was for the cause of two unhappy knights who were named Agravaine and Mordred, brethren unto Sir Gawain. For these knights had ever a privy hate unto Queen Guenevere and Sir Lancelot, and day and night they watched upon Sir Lancelot.
At this time it mishapped that Sir Gawain and all his brethren were in King Arthur’s chamber when Sir Agravaine said thus openly, that many knights might hear it, ‘I marvel that we all be not ashamed to see how Sir Lancelot lies daily and nightly by the queen, and we all know it so.’
‘Brother Agravaine,’ said Sir Gawain, ‘I charge you move no such matter before me. I will not be of your counsel.’
And so said Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth. Then Sir Mordred said, ‘But I will’.
‘Well I believe that,’ said Gawain, ‘for, brother Mordred, ever you work for unhappiness. I would that you left all this and made you not so busy, for I know what will fall of it.’
‘Fall of it what fall may,’ said Sir Agravaine, ‘I will disclose it to the king.’
‘Raise not war and wrack betwixt Sir Lancelot and us,’ warned Sir Gawain. ‘The best of us all had been full cold at the heart-root had not Sir Lancelot been better than we. For my part, I will never be against Sir Lancelot since he rescued me from the Dolorous Tower and saved my life. Your lives also he saved from Sir Turquin. Methinks, brother, such kindness should be remembered. But hush you, here comes our king. Now brothers, stint your noise.’
‘We will not,’ said Agravaine and Mordred.
‘Then God speed you, for I will not hear your tales.’
‘No more will we,’ said Gareth and Gaheris. And therewith they three sorrowfully departed, saying, ‘Alas, now is this realm wholly mischieved, and the noble fellowship of the Round Table shall be dispersed.’
At once there came in King Arthur, and asked them what noise they made.
‘My lord,’ answered Agravaine, ‘I may keep it no longer. We brethren all know that Sir Lancelot holds your queen, and has done so long. We be your sister’s sons, and we may suffer it no longer. You are the king that made him knight, and therefore we will prove it, that he is traitor to your person.’
‘If it be so,’ said Arthur, ‘I would be loath to begin such a thing but I might have proofs upon it. Sir Lancelot is a hardy knight, the best among us. Except he be taken with the deed, he will fight all accusers, and I know none that may match him. So, in truth, I would he were taken with the deed.’
But the king was full loath thereto. For Sir Lancelot had done so much for him and for the queen so many times that the king loved him exceeding well.
‘My lord,’ said Sir Agravaine, ‘you shall ride tomorrow to hunting, and doubt not Sir Lancelot will not go with you. When it draws towards night, send the queen word that you will lie out that night, and send for your cooks. Then upon pain of death we shall take him that night with the queen, and we shall bring him to you quick or dead. My brother Mordred and I will take with us twelve knights of the Round Table.’
‘Beware,’ said the king, ‘for I warn you that you shall find him stalwart.’
‘Let us deal,’ answered Agravaine and Mordred.
Next morn King Arthur rode on hunting, leaving word that he would be out that night. Then Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred got them twelve knights and hid themselves in the Castle of Carlisle. And these knights were all of Scotland, some Gawain’s kin and others well-willers to his brethren.
So when night came Sir Lancelot said unto his fellow Sir Bors that he would go and speak with the queen.
‘Sir,’ said Bors, ‘go not this night, for I dread me ever of Sir Agravaine, who waits daily to do you shame. I mistrust that the king is out this night. Peradventure he has laid some watch for you and the queen, and so I dread me sore of treason.’
‘Have no dread,’ replied Lancelot, ‘for I shall go and come again, and make no tarrying. The queen has sent for me, and I will not be so much a coward but I will see her good grace.’
‘God speed you well,’ said Bors, ‘and send you sound and safe again.’
So Sir Lancelot went lightly unto the queen’s chamber with his sword under his arm, and being thus in his mantle only he put himself in great jeopardy. Then they were together, the queen and Lancelot, and whether they were abed or at other manner of disports no man knows, for love at that time was not as it is nowadays.
Suddenly there came to the door the fourteen knights that hid for him, crying with loud voice, ‘Traitor knight, Sir Lancelot du Lake, now you are taken!’
‘Alas,’ cried the queen, ‘we are mischieved both.’
‘Madam,’ said Lancelot with great urgency, ‘is there any armour within your chamber that I might cover my poor body? Give it me and I shall soon stint their malice, by God.’
‘Truly, sir, I have none armour, sword, shield nor spear. I dread our long love is come to an end, for by their noise they be many, and surely armed. You are likely to be slain, and I shall be burnt.’
‘In all my life,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘thus was I never beset, that I should be slain shamefully for lack of my armour. O Jesu mercy, this shameful noise I may not suffer. Better were death at once than to endure this pain.’
Then he took the queen in his arms and kissed her, and said, ‘Most noble Christian queen, I beseech you, as you have ever been my special good lady, pray for my soul if I here be slain. Whatsoever comes of me, go with Sir Bors, my nephew. He and my kin will do you all the pleasure that they may, that you shall live like a queen upon my lands.’
‘Nay,’ replied the queen, ‘I will never live after your days, but I will take my death as meekly for Christ’s sake as ever did Christian queen.’
‘Well, madam, since our love must depart, I shall sell my life as dear as I may. But Jesu Lord, I would give all Christendom for my armour.’
There was a mighty noise at the door of the chamber, for the knights without had a great bench from the hall and with this they rushed at the door. Sir Lancelot wrapped his mantle surely about his arm, then unbarred the door. With his left hand he opened it a little, to let but one through at a time. And first there came striding into the door Sir Colgrevaunce of Gore, a much man and large. Sir Lancelot slashed him sorely from the side, and felled him grovelling dead. Then with mighty force, thrusting with his shoulder, he barred again the door. Lightly, with the help of the queen and her ladies, he took from Colgrevaunce his armour and armed himself in it.
‘Traitor knight,’ came the cry from without the door, ‘come out of the queen’s chamber.’
‘Leave your noise,’ Lancelot shouted back, ‘and go from the door, and tomorrow we will all go before the king. Then let it be seen who shall accuse me of treason. There I shall answer you as a knight should, and make it good upon you with my hands.’
‘Fie on you traitor!’ cried Agravaine and Mordred. ‘We will slay you if we wish, for we have the choice of King Arthur to save you or slay you.’
‘Then keep yourself,’ cried Sir Lancelot, throwing open the chamber door.
Mightily and knightly, well armed, he strode among them. At the first buffet he slew Sir Agravaine. And there was none of them that might stand more than one buffet, so one by one he laid twelve more knights cold to the earth. Sir Mordred alone escaped, and he fled wounded as fast as he might.
As he stood in corpses, Sir Lancelot turned woefully to the queen
and said, ‘Madam, all our true love is at an end, for now King Arthur will ever be my foe. Come with me, and I shall save you from all adventures dangerous.’
‘That is not best,’ replied the queen. ‘Now you have done so much harm, it is best you hold still with this. If tomorrow they will put me unto death, then may you rescue me as you think best.’
‘Have no doubt,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘while I am living I will rescue you.’ So he kissed Queen Guenevere and either gave the other a ring, and there he left her.
With much dole and sorrow Sir Lancelot returned to his chamber, where there awaited him Sir Bors and his fellows. Sir Bors was never so glad to see him. With this, Sir Lancelot told them what had happed that night. ‘Therefore, my fellows,’ said he, ‘be of good heart in whatsoever need I stand, for now is war come to us all.’
‘Take no discomfort,’ cried all those good knights, ‘we shall gather those that we love, and that love us, and we will take the woe with the weal.’
Before seven of the clock, Sir Bors had called unto him Sir Lionel, Sir Ector, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Lavaine, Sir Urré and others, all good men, to the number of twenty-two, armed and on horseback. And joined unto them were some of north Wales, for Sir Lamorak’s sake, and some of Cornwall, for Sir Tristram’s sake, and all to the number of four score knights.
‘My fair lords,’ said Lancelot unto them, ‘this night I have slain Sir Agravaine and twelve of his fellows. Now I am sure of mortal war, for these knights were sent and ordained by King Arthur to betray me. In his heat and malice, the king will judge the queen to the fire, and that I may not suffer. I will fight for the queen, but I dread the king will not take me as I ought to be taken. And if I rescue my lady Queen Guenevere, where shall I keep her?’
Then said Sir Bors, ‘How did the noble knight Sir Tristram, by your goodwill? Kept not he with him La Beale Isoud near three years in Joyous Gard, your own place? There you may keep her long enough till the heat of the king be past. And then might you bring again the queen to King Arthur with great honour.’