by Michael Foss
‘Yet by Sir Tristram,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I may have a warning. For when Sir Tristram brought again La Beale Isoud unto King Mark from Joyous Gard, look what befell on the end. How shamefully that false traitor King Mark slew him as he sat harping before his lady Isoud. He thrust him from behind to the heart with a sharpened sword. It grieves me to speak of his death, for all the world may not find such a knight.’
‘That is true,’ said Sir Bors, ‘but take courage, for you know well that King Mark and King Arthur were never like of condition. No man yet can prove King Arthur untrue of his promise.’
So they all consented that this should happen if the queen were brought to the fire. And they put themselves in an ambush in a wood near Carlisle, to wait and see what the king would do.
Meanwhile, when Sir Mordred escaped sore wounded from the queen’s chamber, he rode in full haste unto King Arthur and told him all how it was, and how they were all slain save only himself.
‘Jesu mercy,’ cried the king. ‘Took you him in the queen’s chamber?’
‘Yea, God help me,’ said Mordred, ‘we found him there unarmed. But he slew Sir Colgrevaunce and took his armour, and thus he fought and slew us all unhappily.’
Then King Arthur had amazement at Sir Lancelot and said, ‘He is a marvellous knight of prowess. Alas that ever he should be against me. Now I am sure the noble fellowship of the Round Table is broken for ever. It is fallen so that I must for my honour make the queen suffer the death.’
Right so the king took the proofs and experiences told him by Sir Mordred, with the deaths of thirteen knights about the queen’s chamber, and he commanded Queen Guenevere to the fire, there to be burnt.
Therewith Sir Gawain spake. ‘My lord Arthur, be not over-hasty in this judgment. Though Sir Lancelot were found in the queen’s chamber, yet might it not be that he came for no evil? For you know well, my lord, that the queen is much beholden unto Sir Lancelot. Ofttimes he has done battle for her and saved her life. And peradventure the queen sent for him for goodness and none evil, but to come privily and secretly, to eschew the dread of slander. Ofttimes we do many things that we ween it be for the best, and yet by chance it turns to the worst.’
‘That I well believe,’ said Arthur. ‘But my queen shall have the law. And if I may get Sir Lancelot, he shall have a shameful death. As for you, Sir Gawain, forsooth you have no cause to love Sir Lancelot. This past night he slew your brother Sir Agravaine, and your two sons Sir Florence and Sir Lovel.’
‘Howbeit I am sorry,’ replied Gawain, ‘of the death of my brother and my sons, they are the causers of their own death. I gave them warning what would fall in the end. As they would not do by my counsel, I will not meddle, nor revenge me nothing of their deaths.’
‘Well, dear nephew,’ the king then said unto Gawain, ‘I pray you make you ready in your best armour, with your brethren Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, to bring my queen to the fire.’
‘Nay, my most noble lord, that will I never do. My heart will never serve me to see her die. As to my brothers, they will be loath to be there present. But they are young, and full unable to say you nay.’
Then spake the brethren Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris unto the king, ‘Sir, you may well command us to be there, but it shall be sore against our will. Except by your straight command, you shall plainly hold us excused. And if we must be there, we will be in peaceable wise and bear no harness of war upon us.’
‘In the name of God,’ said Arthur in wrath, ‘then make you ready, for she shall soon have her judgment.’
When he heard all this, Sir Gawain turned away and wept bitterly, and so he went into his chamber.
In short time Queen Guenevere was led forth without Carlisle, and there she was despoiled into her smock. Her ghostly father was brought to her to shrive her of her misdeeds. Among the people at that place of the fire there was much wringing of hands, and many lords and ladies wept and wailed. But none more than a few knights in armour guarded the queen to the fire.
Now there was a man put there midst the people to espy, and he ran to give Sir Lancelot warning. Then from the wood nearby there was spurring and plucking up of horses, and right so they drove down upon the place of judgment. Most suddenly and at once they slew all those that stood against them. For there was none that might stand against Sir Lancelot in his anger, so all that bore arms, many a noble knight, were slain. And in this rushing and hurling, as Sir Lancelot swang here and there, it mishapped to him to slay Gaheris and Gareth, for they were unarmed and unaware. Sir Lancelot smote them upon the brainpans, but in very truth he saw them not. So were they found dead among the thickest of the press.
When Sir Lancelot was done with slaying, he rode straight unto the queen and made a gown to be thrown about her. Then he plucked her up and set her behind him on the saddle, and prayed her to be of good cheer. She gave thanks of God and Sir Lancelot, and so he rode away with the queen unto Joyous Gard, and there he kept her as a noble knight should do.
But when the king saw that his queen was taken away, and that his good knights were slain, in especial Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, then was he nigh mad in sorrow and wrath.
‘Alas,’ he cried, ‘that ever I bore crown upon my head! My good knights be slain away from me, and I have lost the noble fellowship of Sir Lancelot and the kin of his blood. Mercy Jesu, but why slew he Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris? I dare say Sir Gareth loved Sir Lancelot above all earthly men. Fair fellows, I charge you that no man tells Sir Gawain of the death of his two brethren for I am sure, when he hears that Sir Gareth is dead, he will go nigh out of his mind.’
‘But they were slain,’ some said, ‘in the hurtling as Sir Lancelot swang in the thick of the press. He knew not whom he smote.’
‘Their death,’ replied the king, ‘will cause the greatest mortal war that ever was. When Sir Gawain knows their death, I am sure that I shall never have rest of him till Sir Lancelot is destroyed, or else he destroys me. My heart was never so heavy as it is now. Much more am I sorry for my good knights’ loss than for the loss of my fair queen. Queens might I have enow, but such a fellowship of good knights shall never again be together. Ah, Agravaine, Agravaine, Jesu forgive your soul for the evil will that you and your brother Mordred had against Sir Lancelot.’
Even while the king spoke, there came one unto Sir Gawain and told him how the queen was led away with Sir Lancelot, and nigh twenty-four knights slain.
‘O Jesu defend my brethren,’ said Gawain, ‘for full well I knew that Sir Lancelot would rescue her. But where are my brethren? I marvel I hear not of them.’
‘Truly, sir, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris are slain.’
‘Who slew them, and in especial my good brother Gareth?’
‘Sir, Lancelot slew them both.’
‘Nay, I may not believe it, that he slew Sir Gareth. I dare say my brother Gareth loved him better than me, and all his brethren, and the king both. Say not he slew my brother Gareth.’
‘Sir,’ said this man, ‘it is noised that he slew him.’
Right so Sir Gawain ran unto the king, crying, ‘O King Arthur, my uncle, my brethren be slain, two noble knights. My own good lord, I pray you tell me, how slew he my brother Sir Gareth?’
‘Truly,’ said the king, ‘I tell you as it is told me, Sir Lancelot slew him and Sir Gaheris both.’
‘Alas, they bore no arms against him, neither of them. Now, my king, my lord and my uncle, I promise you by my knighthood, from this day I shall never fail Sir Lancelot until the one of us has slain the other. Therefore, my lord, dress you to the war, for I will be avenged upon Sir Lancelot. Now haste you thereto and assay your friends, for I shall seek him throughout seven kings’ realms.’
‘No need to seek him so far,’ said the king. ‘I hear say that he abides us in the Joyous Gard, and much people draw unto him.’
Then the king sent letters and writs throughout all England, and drew unto him many knights, earls and dukes, so that he had a great host. And this host made ready to
lay siege to Sir Lancelot within Joyous Gard.
Sir Lancelot also had many good knights, some for his own sake and some for the queen’s sake. Both parties were well furnished in all manner of things that longed to the war. But the king’s host was so big that Sir Lancelot would not await him in the field, for he was full loath to do battle against the king. So Lancelot withdrew within his strong castle with all manner of victuals, enough for town and castle. For fifteen weeks King Arthur laid siege to Joyous Gard, but in no wise would Sir Lancelot ride out.
It befell upon a day in harvest time that Sir Lancelot looked over the walls and spoke on high unto King Arthur and Sir Gawain, saying, ‘My lords both, this siege is in vain, and by this you will win no honour. If it pleased me to come out with my good knights, I should full soon make an end of this war.’
‘Then come forth,’ cried Arthur, ‘if you dare. I promise you I shall meet you in the midst of the field. I am your mortal foe, for you have slain my good knights. Also you have lain by my queen and held her many winters, and then like a traitor taken her from me by force.’
‘Fie on you, false recreant knight,’ shouted Sir Gawain up unto the walls. ‘I let you know that my uncle the king shall have both his queen and you, despite your face, to slay you both if it pleases him. Tell me, traitor knight, for what cause slew you my brother Sir Gareth, that loved you more than all my kin?’
‘Alas that ever I was so unhappy,’ said Lancelot, ‘but I had not seen Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris.’
‘You lie, recreant knight. You slew him in despite of me.’
‘Not so. And you may say as you please, yet may it never be said of me that by forecast of treason I slew a good knight, as you have done, Sir Gawain.’
‘Ah, false knight,’ raged Sir Gawain, ‘mean you Sir Lamorak?’
‘You slew him not yourself,’ said Lancelot in contempt, ‘for it had been overmuch on hand for you to have slain one of the best knights of his age.’
‘Well, well,’ said Gawain, ‘since you upbraid me of Sir Lamorak, know that I shall never leave you till I have you in my hands.’
When Sir Bors, Sir Ector and Sir Lionel heard this outcry, they went to Sir Lancelot upon the walls and begged him strongly to ride out into the field. ‘For Sir Gawain,’ they said, ‘will not suffer you to be accorded with King Arthur, and therefore fight for your life and your right, if you dare.’
Full unhappily Sir Lancelot consented, for he did not wish to set his hand against his king nor Sir Gawain. ‘Then I needs must unto battle,’ said Lancelot. ‘Now know you well, my lords Arthur and Gawain, you will repent it whensoever I do battle with you.’
On the morn, great purveyance was made on both sides. And when the sun was well up, about nine of the clock, King Arthur was ready in the field with three great hosts. Then came Sir Lancelot’s fellowship out at three gates, in full good array. Thus they came in order and rule, noble knights all, but Sir Lancelot ordained always that none was to meddle in no wise with Sir Gawain or King Arthur.
Soon it happed that Sir Gawain met with Sir Lionel and proffered to joust. Sir Lionel was a fierce knight and big, but Gawain drove him throughout the body and left him near dead, so that his people must bear him into the castle. Then began a heavy skirmish, and many were slain. Sir Palomides and Sir Bors overthrew many of the king’s party, for these two were deadly knights. But ever Lancelot did what he might to save Arthur’s men. And when King Arthur came nigh about Sir Lancelot, with intent to slay him, Sir Lancelot suffered him and would not turn back the stroke.
Then, peradventure, in the hottest of the fight, Sir Bors encountered with King Arthur and smote him down. So Bors alighted with sword high and said unto Lancelot, ‘Shall I make an end of this war?’ Thus he purposed to kill the king.
‘Not so hardy,’ cried Lancelot. ‘Upon pain of your head, touch him no more. I will never see the most noble king that made me knight either slain or shamed.’
Therewith Sir Lancelot alighted off his horse. He took up the king and horsed him again, and said, ‘My lord Arthur, for God’s love stint this strife, for you get here no honour. My lord, remember what I have done in many places, and now I am evil rewarded.’
When the king was on horseback he looked on Sir Lancelot and the tears burst from his eyes. Then the king might no longer behold him and rode his way, saying, ‘Alas, that ever this war began.’
About the time of evensong, either party withdrew to repose. Each collected the dead and gave them burial, and the wounded had soft salves laid on them. So uneasily they endured all that night.
But on the morn all was as before, with many grim battles and good men slain. As the fight went to and fro the party of Sir Lancelot began to be hard beset. Then Sir Lavaine and Sir Urré prayed Sir Lancelot to do his pain, and fight as they had done. ‘For we see,’ they said, ‘you forbear and spare, and that does much harm. We pray you, spare not your enemies.’
‘Alas, I have no heart to fight against my lord Arthur,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘for then it seems I do not as I ought to do.’
But Sir Palomides also made protest and said, ‘My lord, though you spare them all this day, they will never thank you. And if they may get you at avail, you are but dead.’
Sir Lancelot understood that they said truth, and he began to strain himself. So by evensong time his party stood better, for their horses went in blood past the fetlocks, there were so many people slain. Then for pity Sir Lancelot withheld his knights and suffered his enemies to withdraw aside.
It befell after a time that this war was a scandal unto all of Christendom, and at last it was noised before the Pope. He considered the goodness of King Arthur and Sir Lancelot, and called unto him the noble clerk, the Bishop of Rochester, and gave him bulls under seal for King Arthur of England. Upon pain of interdicting all England, the king must take Queen Guenevere unto him again and accord with Sir Lancelot.
When the bishop was come to Carlisle and showed the king these bulls, King Arthur was full happy to receive the queen again. But in no wise would Sir Gawain suffer the king to accord with Sir Lancelot. Then the bishop went to Joyous Gard, and displayed the Pope’s bulls, and told Lancelot what had passed.
‘Now I thank God,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘that the Pope has made my lady the queen’s peace. I will be a thousandfold more glad to bring her to the king again than ever I was of her taking away, so long as I may be sure to come safe and go safe. And the queen must have her liberty as before, and never from this day stand in peril.’
‘Needs not to dread so much,’ said the bishop sternly, ‘for know you well, the Pope must be obeyed. And it were not the Pope’s honour nor my poor honesty to see you distressed nor the queen shamed.’
Then Sir Lancelot purveyed him a hundred knights, and all were clothed in green velvet and their horses had trappings to their heels. Every knight had a branch of olive in his hand, in tokening of peace. The queen had four-and-twenty gentlewomen following her and Lancelot had twelve young gentlemen on coursers, and all were arrayed in green velvet with chains of gold, and the horses also, with many gold clasps set with stones and pearls to the number of a thousand. And the queen and Sir Lancelot both were clothed in white cloth of gold tissue. Right so they rode in most stately wise from Joyous Gard unto Carlisle.
Thus they rode throughout all Carlisle to the castle, that all folk might behold, and there was many a weeping eye. They alighted at the castle. Sir Lancelot led the queen by the arm, and then he knelt down, and the queen also, before the king. At this, many a bold knight wept as tenderly as if they saw their own kin. But the king sat still and said no word. When Sir Lancelot saw the king’s countenance, he arose and lifted up the queen with him, and spoke full knightly.
‘My most redoubted king,’ he said, ‘by the Pope’s command and yours I have brought you my lady the queen, as right requires. If there be any knight, except your person, that will dare say she is untrue and unclean to you, I here myself, Sir Lancelot du Lake, will make it good upon his body tha
t she is a true lady unto you. But you have listened to liars, and that has caused debate betwixt you and me. And these liars, Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, called me traitor and recreant knight.’
‘They called you right,’ said Sir Gawain.
‘My lord Gawain,’ replied Lancelot, ‘in their quarrel they proved themselves not in the right.’
‘Well, well, Sir Lancelot,’ said the king, ‘I have given you no cause to do me harm. I have honoured you and yours more than any of all my knights.’
‘My good lord, be not displeased. I and mine have done you oft better service than any other knights, in many diverse places. And where you have been full hard beset divers times, I have myself rescued you from many dangers. And ever unto my power I was glad to please you, and my lord Sir Gawain.’
‘The king may do as he will,’ answered Sir Gawain, ‘but know well, Sir Lancelot, that you and I shall never be accorded while we live. For you have slain three of my brothers, and two of them traitorly and piteously, for they bore no harness against you.’
‘Would God they had been armed,’ said Lancelot, ‘for then they had been alive. But this much I shall offer me, if it may please the king and you, Sir Gawain. I shall begin at Sandwich, barefoot and in my shirt. And at every ten miles’ end I shall found a house of religion, with a whole convent to sing and read day and night, for the sake of Gaheris, and Sir Gareth in especial. This shall I perform from Sandwich unto Carlisle. And this, Sir Gawain, methinks were fairer, holier and better to your brethren’s souls than for you to war upon me, for thereby shall you get no avail.’
All the knights and ladies within the chamber wept when they heard this offer, and the tears fell on King Arthur’s cheeks.
‘I have heard you right well,’ said Sir Gawain. ‘Let the king do as he please, but I will never forgive my brothers’ death. And if my uncle the king will accord with you, he shall lose my service. But as for this season, we will follow the charge of the Pope, and therefore you shall go safe as you came, though thereafter in this land you shall not abide past fifteen days. Such summons I give you with the king’s consent.’