‘Ah, sir, I am more gladder of you than I was; for ever me thought ye should be of great blood, and that ye came not to the court neither for meat nor for drink.’
Then Sir Lancelot gave him the order of knighthood. And then Sir Gareth prayed him for to depart, and so he to follow the lady. So Sir Lancelot departed from him and came to Sir Kay, and made him to be borne home upon his shield, and so he was healed hardly with the life. And all men scorned Sir Kay; and in especial Sir Gawain and Sir Lancelot said that it was not his part to rebuke no young man, ‘for full little know ye of what birth he is come of, and for what cause he came to the court.’
And so we leave off Sir Kay, and turn we unto Beaumains: when that he had overtaken the damosel, anon she said, ‘What dost thou here? Thou stinkest all of the kitchen, thy clothes be bawdy* of the grease and tallow. What, weenest thou’, said the lady, ‘that I will allow thee* for yonder knight that thou killed? Nay truly, for thou slewest him unhappily* and cowardly; therefore turn again, thou bawdy kitchen knave! I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee Beaumains. What art thou but a lusk and a turner of broaches* and a ladle-washer?’
‘Damosel,’ said Sir Beaumains, ‘say to me what ye will, yet will I not go from you whatsoever ye say; for I have undertaken to King Arthur for to achieve your adventure, and so shall I finish it to the end, or else I shall die therefore.’
‘Fie on thee, kitchen knave, wilt thou finish my adventure? Thou shalt anon be met with, that thou wouldst not for all the broth that ever thou supped once to look him in the face.’
‘As for that, I shall assay,’* said Beaumains.
So right thus as they rode in the wood, there came a man fleeing all that ever he might.
‘Whither wilt thou?’ said Beaumains.
‘Ah, lord,’ he said, ‘help me, for here by in a slade* are six thieves that have taken my lord and bound him sore, and I am afraid lest that they will slay him.’
‘Bring me thither,’ said Beaumains.
And so they rode together until they came there as was the knight bound; and straight he rode unto them, and struck one to the death and then another, and at the third stroke he slew the third. And then the other three fled, and he rode after them and overtook them; and then they three turned again and assailed Sir Beaumains hard, but at the last he slew them, and returned and unbound the knight. And the knight thanked him, and prayed him to ride with him to his castle there a little beside, and he should worshipfully reward him for his good deeds.
‘Sir,’ said Beaumains, ‘I will no reward have. Sir, this day I was made knight of noble Sir Lancelot, and therefore I will no reward have but God reward me.* And also I must follow this damosel.’
So when he came nigh to her she bade him ride outer,* ‘For thou smellest all of the kitchen. What, weenest thou that I have joy of thee for all this deed? For that thou hast done is but mishap; but thou shalt see soon a sight that shall make thee to turn again, and that lightly.’
Then the same knight rode after the damosel and prayed her to lodge with him all that night. And because it was near night, the damosel rode with him to his castle, and there they had great cheer; and at supper the knight set Sir Beaumains before the damosel.
‘Fie, fie,’ then said she. ‘Sir knight, ye are uncourteous to set a kitchen page before me; him seemeth better to stick a swine than to sit before a damosel of high parage.’*
Then the knight was ashamed at her words, and took him up and set him at a side board, and set himself before him.* So all that night they had good cheer and merry rest.
[6]
And on the morn the damosel took her leave and thanked the knight, and so departed and rode on her way until they came to a great forest; and there was a great river and but one passage, and there were ready two knights on the further side to let the passage.*
‘What say you?’ said the damosel. ‘Will ye match yonder two knights, or else turn again?’
‘Nay,’ said Sir Beaumains, ‘I will not turn again and they were six more.’
And therewith he rushed unto the water, and in midst of the water either broke their spears upon other to their hands; and then they drew their swords, and smote eagerly at other. And at the last Sir Beaumains smote the other upon the helm that his head astoned, and therewith he fell down in the water, and there was he drowned. And then he spurred his horse upon the land, and therewith the other knight fell upon him and broke his spear; and so they drew their swords and fought long together. But at the last Sir Beaumains cleaved his helm and his head down to the shoulders; and so he rode unto the damosel and bade her ride forth on her way.
‘Alas,’ she said, ‘that ever such a kitchen page should have the fortune to destroy such two knights. Yet thou weenest thou hast done doughtily, that is not so; for the first knight’s horse stumbled, and there he was drowned in the water, and never it was by thy force nor by thy might. And the last knight, by mishap thou camest behind him, and by misfortune thou slewest him.’
‘Damosel,’ said Beaumains, ‘ye may say what ye will; but whomsoever I have ado withal, I trust to God to serve him or I and he depart. And therefore I reck* not what ye say, so that I may win your lady.’
‘Fie, fie, foul kitchen knave, thou shalt see knights that shall abate thy boast.’
‘Fair damosel, give me goodly language, and then my care is past; for what knights soever they be, I care not, nor I doubt* them not.’
‘Also,’ said she, ‘I say it for thy avail, for yet mayest thou turn again with thy worship; for and thou follow, thou art but slain, for I see all that ever thou dost is by misadventure, and not by prowess of thy hands.’
‘Well, damosel, ye may say what ye will, but wheresoever ye go I will follow you.’
[7]
So this Beaumains rode with that lady till evensong, and ever she chid him and would not rest. So at the last they came to a black laund,* and there was a black hawthorn; and thereon hung a banner, and on the other side there hung a black shield, and by it stood a black spear great and long, and a great black horse covered with silk, and a black stone fast by. Also there sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was called the Knight of the Black Launds. Then the damosel, when she saw that knight, she bade him flee down that valley, for his horse was not saddled.
‘Gramercy,’ said Beaumains, ‘for always ye would have me a coward.’
So when the black knight saw her, he said, ‘Damosel, have ye brought this knight from the court of King Arthur to be your champion?’
‘Nay, fair knight, this is but a kitchen knave that was fed in King Arthur’s kitchen for alms.’
Then said the knight, ‘Why cometh he in such array? For it is shame that he beareth you company.’
‘Sir, I cannot be delivered of him, for with me he rideth maugre my head. God would,’ said she, ‘that ye would put him from me, or to slay him and ye may, for he is an unhappy knave, and unhappily he hath done this day through mishap; for I saw him slay two knights at the passage of the water, and other deeds he did before right marvellous and through unhappiness.’*
‘That marvels me,’ said the black knight, ‘that any man of worship will have ado with him.’
‘Sir, they know him not,’ said the damosel. ‘And for because he rideth with me, they ween that he be some man of worship born.’
‘That may be,’ said the black knight. ‘Howbeit as ye say that he is no man of worship born, he is a full likely person, and full like to be a strong man. But this much shall I grant you,’ said the knight, ‘I shall put him down on foot, and his horse and his harness he shall leave with me; for it were shame to me to do him any more harm.’
When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, ‘Sir knight, thou art full large of* my horse and harness; I let thee wit it cost thee nought, and whether thou like well or evil, this laund will I pass maugre thy head, and horse nor harness gettest thou none of mine but if thou win them with thy hands. Therefore let see what thou canst do.’
‘Sayes
t thou that?’ said the black knight. ‘Now yield thy lady from thee, for it beseemed never a kitchen knave to ride with such a lady.’
‘Thou liest,’ said Beaumains, ‘I am a gentleman born, and of more high lineage than thou, and that will I prove on thy body.’
Then in great wrath they departed their horses and came together as it had been thunder, and the black knight’s spear broke; and Beaumains thrust him through both sides, and therewith his spear broke, and the truncheon was left still in his side. But nevertheless the black knight drew his sword, and smote many eager strokes of great might, and hurt Beaumains full sore. But at the last the black knight, within an hour and a half, he fell down off his horse in a swoon and there died.
And when Sir Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed, then he alit down and armed him in his armour, and so took his horse and rode after the damosel.
When she saw him come nigh, she said, ‘Away, kitchen knave, out of the wind, for the smell of thy bawdy clothes grieveth me. Alas,’ she said, ‘that ever such a knave should by mishap slay so good a knight as thou hast done—but all is thine unhappiness. But hereby is one that shall pay thee all thy payment, and therefore yet I rede thee flee.’
‘It may happen me’, said Beaumains, ‘to be beaten or slain, but I warn you, fair damosel, I will not flee away neither leave your company, for all that ye can say; for ever ye say that they will slay me or beat me, but howsoever it happeneth, I escape and they lie on the ground. And therefore it were as good for you to hold you still thus all day rebuking me, for away will I not till I see the uttermost of this journey, or else I will be slain, or thoroughly beaten; therefore ride on your way, for follow you I will whatsoever happen me.’
[8]
Thus as they rode together, they saw a knight come driving* by them all in green, both his horse and his harness. And when he came nigh the damosel, he asked her, ‘Is that my brother the black knight that ye have brought with you?’
‘Nay, nay,’ she said, ‘this unhappy kitchen knave hath slain thy brother through unhappiness.’
‘Alas,’ said the green knight, ‘that is great pity, that so noble a knight as he was should so unhappily be slain, and namely* of a knave’s hand, as ye say that he is. Ah, traitor,’ said the green knight, ‘thou shall die for slaying of my brother; he was a full noble knight!’ (And his name was Sir Perard.)
‘I defy thee,’ said Sir Beaumains, ‘for I let thee wit I slew him knightly and not shamefully.’
Therewith the green knight rode unto a horn that was green, and it hung upon a thorn; and there he blew three deadly motes,* and anon there came two damosels and armed him lightly. And then he took a great horse, and a green shield and a green spear; and then they ran together with all their mights, and brake their spears unto their hands. And then they drew their swords and gave many sad strokes, and either of them wounded other full ill. And at the last, at an overthwart* stroke Sir Beaumains with his horse struck the green knight’s horse upon the side, that he fell to the earth. And then the green knight voided his horse deliverly* and dressed him on foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewith he alit; and they rushed together like two mighty kemps* a long while, and sore they bled both.
With that came the damosel and said, ‘My lord the green knight, why for shame stand ye so long fighting with that kitchen knave? Alas, it is shame that ever ye were made knight, to see such a lad to match you as the weed groweth over the corn.’
Therewith the green knight was ashamed, and therewith he gave a great stroke of might and cleft his shield through. When Beaumains saw his shield cloven asunder, he was a little ashamed of that stroke and of her language. And then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell on his knees, and so suddenly Beaumains pulled him on the ground grovelling; and then the green knight cried him mercy and yielded him unto Beaumains, and prayed him not to slay him.
‘All is in vain,’ said Beaumains, ‘for thou shalt die but if this damosel that came with me pray me to save thy life.’ And therewith he unlaced his helm like as he would slay him.
‘Fie upon thee, false kitchen page! I will never pray thee to save his life, for I will not be so much in thy danger.’*
‘Then shall he die,’ said Beaumains.
‘Not so hardy, thou bawdy knave,’ said the damosel, ‘that thou slay him.’
‘Alas,’ said the green knight, ‘suffer me not to die for a fair word speaking. Fair knight,’ said the green knight, ‘save my life, and I will forgive thee the death of my brother, and for ever to become thy man, and thirty knights that hold of me for ever shall do you service.’
‘In the devil’s name,’ said the damosel, ‘that such a bawdy kitchen knave should have thirty knights’ service, and thine!’
‘Sir knight,’ said Beaumains, ‘all this availeth thee not but if my damosel speak to me for thy life.’ And therewith he made a semblant to slay him.
‘Let be,’ said the damosel, ‘thou bawdy kitchen knave! Slay him not, for and thou do thou shalt repent it.’
‘Damosel,’ said Beaumains, ‘your charge is to me a pleasure, and at your commandment his life shall be saved, and else not.’ Then he said, ‘Sir knight with the green arms, I release thee quit at this damosel’s request; for I will not make her wroth, for I will fulfil all that she chargeth me.’ And then the green knight kneeled down and did him homage with his sword.
Then said the damosel, ‘Me repents of this green knight’s damage and of your brother’s death, the black knight; for of your help I had great mister,* for I dread me sore to pass this forest.’
‘Nay, dread you not,’ said the green knight, ‘for ye all shall lodge with me this night, and tomorrow I shall help you through this forest.’
[9]
So they took their horses and rode to his manor that was fast by. And ever this damosel rebuked Beaumains and would not suffer him to sit at her table, but as the green knight took him and sat with him at a side table.
‘Damosel, marvel methinketh,’ said the green knight, ‘why ye rebuke this noble knight as ye do, for I warn you he is a full noble man, and I know no knight that is able to match him. Therefore ye do great wrong so to rebuke him, for he shall do you right good service. For whatsoever he maketh himself, he shall prove at the end that he is come of full noble blood and of king’s lineage.’
‘Fie, fie,’ said the damosel, ‘it is shame for you to say him such worship.’
‘Truly,’ said the green knight, ‘it were shame to me to say him any disworship, for he hath proved himself a better knight than I am. And many is the noble knight that I have met with in my days; and never or this time found I no knight his match.’
And so that night they yode unto rest, and all night the green knight commanded thirty knights privily to watch Beaumains for to keep him from all treason.
And so on the morn they all arose, and heard their Mass and broke their fast. And then they took their horses and rode their way, and the green knight conveyed them through the forest. Then the green knight said, ‘My lord Sir Beaumains, my body and these thirty knights shall be always at your summons, both early and late, at your calling, and whither that ever ye will send us.’
‘Ye say well,’ said Sir Beaumains. ‘When that I call upon you, ye must yield you unto King Arthur, and all your knights, if that I so command you.’
‘We shall be ready at all times,’ said the green knight.
‘Fie, fie upon thee, in the devil’s name,’ said the damosel, ‘that any good knight should be obedient unto a kitchen knave!’
So then parted the green knight and the damosel.
And then she said unto Beaumains, ‘Why followest thou me, kitchen knave? Cast away thy shield and thy spear, and flee away; yet I counsel thee betimes or thou shalt say right soon “alas!” For and thou were as wight* as Sir Lancelot, Sir Tristram, or the good knight Sir Lamorak,* thou shalt not pass a pass here that is called the Pass Perilous.’
‘Damosel,’ said Beaumains, ‘who is afraid, let him flee;
for it were shame to turn again sith I have ridden so long with you.’
‘Well,’ said she, ‘ye shall soon, whether ye will or will not.’
[10]
So within a while they saw a white tower as any snow, well machicolated all about and double dyked; and over the tower gate there hung fifty shields of divers colours. And under that tower there was a fair meadow, and therein were many knights and squires to behold, scaffolds* and pavilions; for there upon the morn should be a great tournament. And the lord of the tower was within his castle, and looked out at a window and saw a damosel, a dwarf, and a knight armed at all points.
‘So God me help,’ said the lord, ‘with that knight will I joust, for I see that he is a knight errant.’
And so he armed him and horsed him hastily. When he was on horseback with his shield and his spear, it was all red, both his horse and his harness and all that to him belonged. And when that he came nigh him he weened it had been his brother the black knight; and then loud he cried and said, ‘Brother, what do ye here in these marches?’
‘Nay, nay,’ said the damosel, ‘it is not he; for this is but a kitchen knave that was brought up for alms in King Arthur’s court.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said the red knight, ‘I will speak with him or he depart.’
‘Ah,’ said this damosel, ‘this knave hath slain your brother, and Sir Kay named him Beaumains; and this horse and this harness was thy brother’s, the black knight. Also I saw thy brother the green knight overcome of his hands. But now may ye be revenged on him, for I may never be quit of him.’
With this every knight* departed in sunder and came together all that they might drive; and either of their horses fell to the earth. Then they avoided their horses, and put their shields before them and drew their swords, and either gave other sad strokes, now here, now there, tracing, traversing, and foining, razing and hurling like two boars, the space of two hours. Then she cried on high to the red knight,
Le Morte Darthur: The Winchester Manuscript (Oxford World's Classics) Page 19