When Sir Meliot saw Sir Lancelot he kneeled upon his knees and cried on high, ‘Ah, lord Sir Lancelot, help me anon!’
Then Sir Lancelot leapt unto him and touched his wounds with Sir Gilbert’s sword, and then he wiped his wounds with a part of the bloody cloth that Sir Gilbert was wrapped in; and anon a wholer man in his life was he never. And then there was great joy between them, and they made Sir Lancelot all the cheer that they might.
And so on the morn Sir Lancelot took his leave, and bade Sir Meliot hie him ‘to the court of my lord Arthur, for it draweth nigh to the feast of Pentecost. And there by the grace of God ye shall find me.’ And therewith they departed.
[16]
And so Sir Lancelot rode through many strange countries, over moors and valleys, till by fortune he came to a fair castle; and as he passed beyond the castle him thought he heard bells ring. And then was he ware of a falcon came over his head flying toward a high elm, and long lunes* about her feet; and as she flew unto the elm to take her perch, the lunes overcast about a bough. And when she would have taken her flight she hung by the legs fast; and Sir Lancelot saw how she hung, and beheld the fair Périgord falcon,* and he was sorry for her.
The meanwhile came a lady out of a castle and cried on high, ‘Ah, Lancelot, Lancelot, as thou art flower of all knights, help me to get me my hawk, for and my hawk be lost my lord will destroy me; for I kept the hawk and she slipped from me. And if my lord my husband wit it, he is so hasty that he will slay me.’
‘What is your lord’s name?’ said Sir Lancelot.
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘his name is Sir Phelot, a knight that longeth unto the King of Northgales.’
‘Well, fair lady, since that ye know my name and require me of knighthood to help, I will do what I may to get your hawk. And yet, God knoweth, I am an evil climber, and the tree is passing high, and few boughs to help me withal.’
And therewith Sir Lancelot alit and tied his horse to the same tree, and prayed the lady to unarm him. And so when he was unarmed, he put off all his clothes unto his shirt and his breeches, and with might and great force he climbed up to the falcon and tied the lunes to a great rotten bough, and threw the hawk down with the bough; and anon the lady got the hawk in her hand. And therewith came out Sir Phelot out of the groves suddenly, that was her husband, all armed and with his naked sword in his hand, and said, ‘Ah, knight, Sir Lancelot, now I have found thee as I would,’ he standing at the bole of the tree to slay him.
‘Ah, lady,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘why have ye betrayed me?’
‘She hath done’, said Sir Phelot, ‘but as I commanded her, and therefore there is no other boot* but thine hour is come that thou must die.’
‘That were shame unto thee,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘thou an armed knight to slay a naked man by treason.’
‘Thou gettest no other grace,’ said Sir Phelot, ‘and therefore help thyself and thou can.’
‘Truly,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘that shall be thy shame! But since thou wilt do no other, take my harness with thee, and hang my sword there upon a bough that I may get it, and then do thy best to slay me and thou can.’
‘Nay,’ said Sir Phelot, ‘for I know thee better than thou weenest; therefore thou gettest no weapon and I may keep thee therefrom.’
‘Alas,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘that ever a knight should die weaponless!’ And therewith he waited* above him and under him, and over him above his head he saw a rough spike, a big bough leafless, and therewith he broke it off by the body. And then he came lower and awaited* how his own horse stood, and suddenly he leapt on the further side of the horse fromward the knight. And then Sir Phelot lashed at him eagerly to have slain him; but Sir Lancelot put away the stroke with the rough spike and therewith took* him on the head, that he fell in a swoon to the ground. So then Sir Lancelot took his sword out of his hand, and struck his neck in two pieces.
‘Alas,’ then cried the lady, ‘why hast thou slain my husband?’
‘I am not causer,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘But with falsehood ye would have had me slain with treason, and now it is fallen on you both.’
And then she swooned as though she would die. And therewith Sir Lancelot got all his armour as well as he might, and put it upon him for dread of more receit,* for he dreaded him that the knight’s castle was so nigh him. And as soon as he might he took his horse and departed, and thanked God that he had escaped that hard adventure.*
[18]
Now Sir Lancelot du Lake came home two days before the feast of Pentecost; and the King and all the court were passing fain. And when Gawain, Sir Uwain, Sir Sagramore, and Sir Ector de Maris saw Sir Lancelot in Kay’s armour, then they wist well that it was he that smote them down all with one spear. Then there was laughing and smiling among them. And ever now and now came all the knights home that were prisoners with Sir Tarquin, and they all honoured Sir Lancelot.
When Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said, ‘I saw all the battle from the beginning to the ending.’ And there he told King Arthur all how it was, and how Sir Tarquin was the strongest knight that ever he saw except Sir Lancelot; and there were many knights bore him record, three score. Then Sir Kay told the King how Sir Lancelot had rescued him when he should have been slain, and how ‘he made the three knights yield them to me, and not to him.’ And there they were all three, and bore record. ‘And by Jesu,’ said Sir Kay, ‘Sir Lancelot took my harness and left me his; and I rode in God’s peace, and no man would have ado with me.’
And then Sir Meliot de Logris came home, and told the King how Sir Lancelot had saved him from the death.
And all his deeds were known, how the queens, sorceresses four, had him in prison, and how he was delivered by the king Bagdemagus’ daughter. Also there was told all the great arms that Sir Lancelot did betwixt the two kings, that is for to say the King of Northgales and King Bagdemagus. All the truth Sir Gahalantine did tell, and Sir Mador de la Porte and Sir Mordred, for they were at that same tournament. Then came in the lady that knew Sir Lancelot when that he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion; and there, at the request of Sir Lancelot, Sir Belleus was made knight of the Round Table.
And so at that time Sir Lancelot had the greatest name of any knight of the world, and most he was honoured of high and low.
Explicit a noble tale of Sir Lancelot du Lake. Here followeth Sir Gareth’s tale of Orkney, that was called Beaumains by Sir Kay.
THE TALE OF SIR GARETH OF ORKNEY
[VII. I]
In Arthur’s days, when he held the Round Table most plenour,* it fortuned the King commanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be held at a city and a castle, in those days that was called Kinkenadon, upon the sands that marched nigh* Wales. So ever the King had a custom that at the feast of Pentecost in especial before other feasts in the year, he would not go that day to meat until he had heard or seen of a great marvel. And for that custom all manner of strange adventures came before Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts.
And so Sir Gawain, a little before the noon of the day of Pentecost, espied at a window three men upon horseback and a dwarf upon foot; and so the three men alit, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the three men was higher than the other two by a foot and a half.
Then Sir Gawain went unto the King and said, ‘Sir, go to your meat, for here at hand come strange adventures.’
So the King went unto his meat with many other kings; and there were all the knights of the Round Table, unless that any were prisoners or slain at encounters. Then at the high feast evermore they should be fulfilled the whole number of a hundred and fifty, for then was the Round Table fully accomplished.
Right so came into the hall two men well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders there leaned the goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all saw; and he was large and long and broad in the shoulders, well visaged, and the largest and the fairest hands that ever man saw.* But he fared as he might not go* nor bear himself but if he leaned upon their shoulders. Anon as
the King saw him there was made peace and room, and right so they yode with him unto the high dais, without saying of any words.
Then this young much man pulled him aback and easily stretched upright, saying, ‘The most noble king, King Arthur, God you bless and all your fair fellowship, and in especial the fellowship of the Table Round. And for this cause I come hither, to pray you and require you to give me three gifts; and they shall not be unreasonably asked, but that ye may worshipfully grant them me, and to you no great hurt nor loss. And the first gift I will ask now, and the other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth, wheresoever ye hold your high feast.’
‘Now ask ye,’ said King Arthur, ‘and ye shall have your asking.’
‘Now, sir, this is my petition at this feast: that ye will give me meat and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask my other two gifts.’
‘My fair son,’ said King Arthur, ‘ask better, I counsel thee, for this is but a simple asking; for my heart giveth me to thee greatly, that thou art come of men of worship. And greatly my conceit* faileth me but thou shall prove a man of right great worship.’
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘thereof be as be may, for I have asked that I will ask at this time.’
‘Well,’ said the King, ‘ye shall have meat and drink enough; I never forbade it my friend nor my foe. But what is thy name, I would wit?’
‘Sir, I cannot tell you.’
‘That is marvel,’ said the King, ‘that thou knowest not thy name, and thou art one of the goodliest young men that ever I saw.’
Then the King betook* him to Sir Kay the steward, and charged him that he had of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and also that he had all manner of finding* as though he were a lord’s son.
‘That shall little need’, said Sir Kay, ‘to do such cost upon him; for I undertake he is a villein born, and never will make man. For and he had been come of gentle men he would have asked horse and armour, but as he is, so he asketh. And sithen he hath no name, I shall give him a name which shall be called Beaumains, that is to say Fair-hands. And into the kitchen I shall bring him; and there he shall have fat broths every day, that he shall be as fat at the twelvemonth’s end as a pork hog.’
[2]
Right so the two men departed and left him with Sir Kay, that scorned him and mocked him. Thereat was Sir Gawain wroth, and in especial Sir Lancelot bade Sir Kay leave his mocking, ‘for I dare lay my head he shall prove a man of great worship.’
‘Let be,’ said Sir Kay, ‘it may not be by reason, for he desireth ever meat and drink and broth; upon pain of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and, howsoever it was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come for his sustenance.’*
And so Sir Kay bade get him a place and sit down to meat. So Beaumains went to the hall door and set him down among boys and lads, and there he ate sadly.* And then Sir Lancelot after meat bade him come to his chamber, and there he should have meat and drink enough. And so did Sir Gawain; but he refused them all, for he would do no other but as Sir Kay commanded him, for no proffer.* But as touching Sir Gawain, he had reason to proffer him lodging, meat, and drink, for that proffer came of his blood, for he was nearer kin to him than he wist of; but that Sir Lancelot did was of his great gentleness and courtesy.
So thus he was put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the kitchen boys did. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and never displeased man nor child, but always he was meek and mild. But ever when he saw any jousting of knights, that would he see and he might.* And ever Sir Lancelot would give him gold to spend and clothes, and so did Sir Gawain. And where there were any masteries* doing, thereat would he be, and there might none cast* bar nor stone to him by two yards. Then would Sir Kay say, ‘How liketh you my boy of the kitchen?’
So this passed on till the feast of Whitsuntide. And at that time the King held it at Caerleon in the most royalest wise that might be, like as he did yearly. But the King would no meat eat upon Whitsunday until he heard of some adventures. Then came there a squire unto the King and said, ‘Sir, ye may go to your meat, for here cometh a damosel with some strange adventures.’ Then was the King glad and set him down. Right so there came a damosel unto the hall and saluted the King, and prayed him of succour.
‘For whom?’ said the King. ‘What is the adventure?’
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I have a lady of great worship to my sister, and she is besieged with a tyrant, that she may not out of her castle; and because here are called the noblest knights of the world, I come to you for succour.’
‘What is your lady called, and where dwelleth she? and who is he and what is his name that hath besieged her?’
‘Sir King,’ she said, ‘as for my lady’s name, that shall not ye know for me as at this time, but I let you wit she is a lady of great worship and of great lands. And as for that tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth her lands, he is called the Red Knight of the Red Launds.’
‘I know him not,’ said the King.
‘Sir,’ said Sir Gawain, ‘I know him well, for he is one of the most perilous knights of the world; men say that he hath seven men’s strength, and from him I escaped once full hard with my life.’
‘Fair damosel,’ said the King, ‘there be knights here would do their power for to rescue your lady; but because you will not tell her name, nor where she dwelleth, therefore none of my knights that here be now shall go with you by my will.’
‘Then must I seek further,’ said the damosel.
[3]
So with these words came Beaumains before the King while the damosel was there, and thus he said: ‘Sir king, God thank you, I have been this twelvemonth in your kitchen and have had my full sustenance; and now I will ask my other two gifts that be behind.’
‘Ask on now, upon my peril,’ said the King.
‘Sir, this shall be my first gift of the two gifts: that ye will grant me to have this adventure of this damosel, for it belongeth unto me.’
‘Thou shall have it,’ said the King, ‘I grant it thee.’
‘Then, sir, this is that other gift that ye shall grant me: that Sir Lancelot du Lake shall make me knight, for of him I will be made knight and else of none. And when I am passed, I pray you let him ride after me and make me knight when I require him.’
‘All this shall be done,’ said the King.
‘Fie on thee,’ said the damosel, ‘shall I have none but one that is your kitchen knave?’ Then was she waxed angry, and anon she took her horse.
And with that there came one to Beaumains and told him his horse and armour was come for him; and a dwarf had brought him all thing that him needed in the richest wise. Thereat the court had much marvel from whence came all that gear. So when he was armed there was none but few so goodly a man as he was; and right so he came into the hall and took his leave of King Arthur and Sir Gawain, and of Sir Lancelot, and prayed him to hie after him. And so he departed and rode after the damosel.
[4]
But there went many after to behold how well he was horsed and trapped in cloth of gold, but he had neither spear nor shield.
Then Sir Kay said all openly in the hall, ‘I will ride after my boy of the kitchen, to wit whether he will know me for his better.’
‘Yet’, said Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain, ‘abide at home.’
So Sir Kay made him ready and took his horse and his spear, and rode after him. And right as Beaumains overtook the damosel, right so came Sir Kay and said, ‘Beaumains, what, sir, know ye not me?’
Then he turned his horse and knew it was Sir Kay, that had done all the despite to him, as ye have heard before. Then said Beaumains, ‘Yea, I know you well for an ungentle knight of the court, and therefore beware of me.’
Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and ran straight upon him. And Beaumains came as fast upon him with his sword, and with a foin* thrust him through the side that Sir Kay fell down as he had been dead. Then Beaumains alit down and took Sir Kay’s shield and his sp
ear, and started upon his own horse and rode his way.
All that saw Sir Lancelot, and so did the damosel. And then Beaumains bade his dwarf start upon Sir Kay’s horse, and so he did. By that Sir Lancelot was come, and anon he proffered Sir Lancelot to joust; and either made them ready, and came together so fiercely that either bore other down to the earth, and sore were they bruised. Then Sir Lancelot arose and helped him from his horse; and then Beaumains threw his shield from him, and proffered to fight with Sir Lancelot on foot. So they rushed together like two boars, tracing and traversing and foining the mountenance* of an hour. And Sir Lancelot felt him so big that he marvelled of his strength, for he fought more like a giant than a knight; and his fighting was so passing durable* and passing perilous, for Sir Lancelot had so much ado with him that he dreaded himself to be shamed, and said, ‘Beaumains, fight not so sore! Your quarrel and mine is not so great but we may soon leave off.’
‘Truly that is truth,’ said Beaumains, ‘but it doth me good to feel your might; and yet, my lord, I showed not the utterance.’*
[5]
‘In God’s name,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘for I promise you by the faith of my body, I had as much to do as I might have to save myself from you unshamed; and therefore have ye no doubt* of no earthly knight.’
‘Hope ye so* that I may any while stand a proved knight?’
‘Do as ye have done to me,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘and I shall be your warrant.’
‘Then I pray you,’ said Beaumains, ‘give me the order of knighthood.’
‘Sir, then must ye tell me your name of right, and of what kin ye be born.’
‘Sir, so that ye will not discover me, I shall tell you my name.’
‘Nay, sir,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘and that I promise you by the faith of my body, until it be openly known.’
Then he said, ‘My name is Gareth, and brother unto Sir Gawain of father’s side and mother’s side.’
Le Morte Darthur: The Winchester Manuscript (Oxford World's Classics) Page 18