‘Nay, madam,’ said he, ‘that shall I not do till I have done my battle, by the grace of God.’
And so he leapt upon his horse and departed, and all the knights and men with him.
And as soon as these two ladies met together, she which Sir Bors should fight for, she complained her and said, ‘Madam, ye have done great wrong to bereave me of my lands that King Aniause gave me, and full loath I am there should be any battle.’
‘Ye shall not choose,’ said the other, ‘or else let your knight withdraw him.’
Then there was the cry made, which party had the better of the two knights, that his lady should rejoice* all the lands.
Then departed the one knight here and the other there; then they came together with such raundom* that they pierced their shields and their habergeons and their spears flew in pieces, and they sore wounded. Then hurtled they together so that they beat each other to the earth, and their horses between their legs; and anon they arose and set hands to their swords, and smote each one other upon their heads that they made great wounds and deep, that the blood went out of their bodies. For there found Sir Bors greater defence in that knight more than he weened; for this Sir Pridam was a passing good knight and wounded Sir Bors full evil, and he him again, but ever Sir Pridam held the stour* alike hard. That perceived Sir Bors, and suffered him till he was nigh attaint;* and then he ran upon him more and more, and the other went back for dread of death. So in his withdrawing he fell upright;* and Sir Bors drew his helm so strongly that he rent it from his head and gave him many sad* strokes with the flat of his sword upon the visage, and bade him yield him or he should slay him.
Then he cried him mercy and said, ‘Fair knight, for God’s love slay me not, and I shall ensure thee never to war against thy lady, but be always toward her.’* So Sir Bors gave him his life, and anon the old lady fled with all her knights.
[9]
Then called Sir Bors all those that held lands of his lady, and said he should destroy them but if they did such service unto her as longed to their lands. So they did her homage, and they that would not were chased out of their lands, that it befell that the young lady came to her estate again by the mighty prowess of Sir Bors de Ganis.
So when all the country was well set in peace, then Sir Bors took his leave and departed; and she thanked him greatly, and would have given him great gifts, but he refused it.
Then he rode all that day till night, and so he came to a harbour to a lady which knew him well enough and made of him great joy. So on the morn, as soon as the day appeared, Sir Bors departed from thence, and so rode into a forest unto the hour of midday; and there befell him a marvellous adventure. So he met at the departing of the two ways two knights that led Sir Lionel, his brother, all naked, bound upon a strong hackney, and his hands bound before his breast. And each of them held in their hands thorns wherewith they went beating him so sore that the blood trailed down more than in a hundred places of his body, so that he was all bloody before and behind; but he said never a word, as he which was great of heart suffered all that they did to him as though he had felt no anguish. And anon Sir Bors dressed him to rescue him that was his brother.
And so he looked upon the other side of him, and saw a knight which brought a fair gentlewoman and would have set her in the thick of the forest for to have been the more surer* out of the way from them that sought her. And she which was nothing assured* cried with a high voice, ‘Saint Mary, succour your maid.’
And anon as she saw Sir Bors she deemed him a knight of the Round Table; then she conjured him by the faith that he owed ‘unto Him in whose service thou art entered, for King Arthur’s sake which I suppose made thee knight, that thou help me and suffer me not to be shamed of this knight.’
When Sir Bors heard her say thus, he had so much sorrow that he wist not what to do. ‘For if I let my brother be in adventure* he must be slain, and that would I not for all the earth. And if I help not the maid she is shamed, and she shall lose her virginity which she shall never get again.’ Then lifted he up his eyes and said weeping, ‘Fair sweet Lord Jesu Christ whose creature I am, keep me Sir Lionel my brother that these knights slay him not; and for pity of You and for mild Mary’s sake, I shall succour this maid.’*
[10]
Then dressed he him unto the knight which had the gentlewoman, and then he cried, ‘Sir knight, let your hand off your maiden, or ye be but dead.’
And then he set down the maiden, and was armed at all pieces save he lacked his spear. Then he dressed his shield and drew his sword; and Sir Bors smote him so hard that it went through his shield and habergeon on the left shoulder, and through great strength he beat him down to the earth. And at the pulling out of Sir Bors’ spear he there swooned.
Then came Sir Bors to the maid and said, ‘How seemeth it you? Of this knight ye be delivered at this time.’
‘Now sir,’ said she, ‘I pray you lead me there as this knight had me.’*
‘So shall I do gladly;’ and took the horse of the wounded knight and set the gentlewoman upon him, and so brought her as she desired.
‘Sir knight,’ said she, ‘ye have better sped than ye weened, for and I had lost my maidenhood, five hundred men should have died therefor.’
‘What knight was he that had you in the forest?’
‘By my faith, he is my cousin. So wot I never with what engine the fiend enchafed him,* for yesterday he took me from my father privily; for I nor none of my father’s men mistrusted him not. And if he had had my maidenhood he had died for the sin of his body, and shamed and dishonoured for ever.’
Thus as she stood talking with him there came twelve knights seeking after her, and anon she told them all how Sir Bors had delivered her. Then they made great joy and besought him to come to her father, a great lord, and he should be right welcome.
‘Truly,’ said Sir Bors, ‘that may not be at this time, for I have a great adventure to do in this country.’ So he commended them to God and departed.
Then Sir Bors rode after Sir Lionel his brother, by the trace of their horses. Thus he rode seeking a great while; and anon he overtook a man clothed in a religious weed,* and rode on a strong black horse blacker than a berry, and said, ‘Sir knight, what seek you?’
‘Sir,’ said he, ‘I seek my brother, that I saw erewhile beaten with two knights.’
‘Ah, Sir Bors, discomfort you not, nor fall not* into no wanhope for I shall tell you tidings, such as they be, for truly he is dead.’
Then showed he him a new-slain body lying in a bush, and it seemed him well that it was the body of Sir Lionel his brother; and then he made such sorrow that he fell to the earth in a swoon, and so lay a great while there. And when he came to himself he said, ‘Fair brother, sith the company of you and me is departed shall I never have joy in my heart. And now He which I have taken unto my master, He be my help!’ And when he had said thus he took his body lightly in his arms and put it upon the arson* of his saddle. And then he said to the man, ‘Can ye show me any chapel nigh where that I may bury this body?’
‘Come on,’ said he, ‘here is one fast by.’
And so long they rode till they saw a fair tower, and before it there seemed an old feeble* chapel. And then they alit both, and put him in the tomb of marble.
[11]
‘Now leave we him here,’ said the good man, ‘and go we to our harbour, till tomorrow we come here again to do him service.’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘be ye a priest?’
‘Yea, forsooth,’ said he.
‘Then I pray you tell me a dream that befell me the last night.’
‘Say on,’ said he.
So he began so much to tell him of the great bird in the forest, and after told him of his birds one white and another black, and of the rotten tree and of the white flowers.
‘Sir, I shall tell you a part now, and the other deal* tomorrow. The white fowl betokeneth a gentlewoman fair and rich, which loved thee paramours* and hath loved thee long. And if
that thou warn* her love she shall die anon; and if thou have no pity on her, that signifieth the great bird which shall make thee to warn her. Now for no fear that thou hast, nor for no dread that thou hast of God, thou shalt not warn her; for thou wouldst not do it for to be held chaste, for to conquer the love of the vainglory of the world.* For that shall befall thee now and thou warn her, that Sir Lancelot, the good knight, thy cousin, shall die. And then shall men say that thou art a manslayer, both of thy brother Sir Lionel and of thy cousin Sir Lancelot—which thou might have rescued easily, but thou went to rescue a maid which pertaineth nothing to thee. Now look thou whether it* had been greater harm, of thy brother’s death, or else to have suffered her to have lost her maidenhood.’ Then said he, ‘Now hast thou heard the tokens* of thy dream?’
‘Yea,’ said Sir Bors.
‘Then is it by thy fault if Sir Lancelot thy cousin die.’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘that were me loath, for there is nothing in the world but I had liever do it than to see my lord Sir Lancelot die by my fault.’
‘Choose ye now the one or the other.’
Then he led him into the high tower, and there he found knights and ladies that said he was welcome; and so they unarmed him, and when he was in his doublet they brought him a mantle furred with ermine and put it about him. So they made him such cheer that he had forgotten his sorrow; and anon came out of a chamber unto him the fairest lady that ever he saw, and more richer beseen than ever was Queen Guenivere or any other estate.
‘Lo,’ said they, ‘Sir Bors, here is the lady unto whom we owe all our service; and I trow she be the richest lady and the fairest of the world, which loveth you best above all other knights, for she will have no knight but you.’
And when he understood that language he was abashed. Not for that she saluted him, and he her; and then they sat down together and spoke of many things, in so much that she besought him to be her love, for she had loved him above all earthly men, and she should make him richer than ever was man of his age.*
When Sir Bors understood her words he was right evil at ease, but in no wise would he break his chastity, and so he wist not how to answer her.
[12]
‘Alas, Sir Bors,’ said she, ‘will ye not do my will?’
‘Madam,’ said he, ‘there is no lady in this world whose will I would fulfil as of this thing. She ought not desire it, for my brother lieth dead which was slain right late.’
‘Ah, Sir Bors,’ said she, ‘I have loved you long for the great beauty I have seen in you and the great hardiness that I have heard of you, that needs ye must lie by me tonight; therefore I pray you grant me.’
‘Truly,’ said he, ‘I shall do it in no manner wise.’
Then anon she made him such sorrow as though she would have died.
‘Well, Sir Bors,’ said she, ‘unto this have ye brought me, nigh to mine end.’ And therewith she took him by the hand and bade him behold her. ‘And ye shall see how I shall die for your love.’
And he said then, ‘I shall it never see.’
Then she departed and went up into a high battlement, and led with her twelve gentlewomen; and when they were above, one of the gentle-women cried, ‘Ah, Sir Bors, gentle knight, have mercy on us all, and suffer my lady to have her will; and if ye do not we must suffer death with our lady, for to fall down off this high tower. And if ye suffer us thus to die for so little a thing, all ladies and gentlewomen will say you dishonour.’
Then looked he upward and saw they seemed all ladies of great estate, and richly and well beseen. Then had he of them great pity; not for that he was not uncounselled in himself that he had liever they all had lost their souls than he his soul.* And with that they fell all at once unto the earth; and when he saw that, he was all abashed and had thereof great marvel. And with that he blessed his body and his visage.
And anon he heard a great noise and a great cry, as all the fiends of hell had been about him; and therewith he saw neither tower, lady, nor gentlewoman, nor no chapel where he brought his brother to. Then held he up both his hands to the heaven and said, ‘Fair sweet lord, Father and God in Heaven, I am grievously escaped!’ And then he took his arms and his horse and set him on his way.
And anon he heard a clock smite on his right hand; and thither he came to an abbey which was closed with high walls, and there was he let in. And anon they supposed that he was one of the knights of the Round Table that was in the quest of the Sangrail, so they led him into a chamber and unarmed him.
‘Sirs,’ said Sir Bors, ‘if there be any holy man in this house, I pray you let me speak with him.’
Then one of them led him unto the abbot, which was in a chapel. And then Sir Bors saluted him and he him again.
‘Sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘I am a knight errant;’ and told him the adventures which he had seen.
‘Sir knight,’ said the abbot, ‘I wot not what ye be, for I weened that a knight of your age might not have been so strong in the grace of Our Lord Jesu Christ. Not for that, ye shall go unto your rest, for I will not counsel you this day: it is too late. And tomorrow I shall counsel you as I can.’
[13]
And that night was Sir Bors served richly, and on the morn early he heard Mass. And then the abbot came to him and bade him good morrow, and Sir Bors to him again; and then he told him he was fellow of the quest of the Sangrail, and how he had charge of the holy man to eat bread and water.
‘Then Our Lord showed him unto you in the likeness of a fowl, that suffered great anguish for us when He was put upon the cross and bled His heart blood for mankind: there was the token and the likeness of the Sangrail that appeared before you, for the blood that the great fowl bled raised the chicks from death to life.* And by the bare tree betokeneth the world, which is naked and needy, without fruit but if it come of Our Lord.
‘Also the lady for whom ye fought: and King Aniause, which was lord thereto, betokeneth Jesu Christ which is king of the world. And that ye fought with the champion for the lady, thus it betokeneth: when ye took the battle for the lady, by her shall ye understand the law of Jesu Christ and Holy Church; and by the other lady ye shall understand the Old Law and the fiend, which all day warreth against Holy Church. Therefore ye did your battle with right, for ye be Jesu Christ’s knight, therefore ye ought to be defenders of Holy Church. And by the black bird might ye understand Holy Church, which sayeth “I am black,”* but he is fair. And by the white bird may men understand the fiend; and I shall tell you how the swan is white without and black within: it is hypocrisy, which is without yellow or pale, and seemeth, without, the servants of Jesu Christ, but they be within so horrible of filth and sin, and beguile the world so evil.
‘Also when the fiend appeared to you in likeness of a man of religion and blamed thee that thou left thy brother for a lady, and he led thee where thou seemed thy brother was slain—but he is yet alive; and all was for to put thee in error, and to bring thee into wanhope* and lechery, for he knew thou were tender hearted, and all was for thou shouldst not find the adventure of the Sangrail. And the third fowl betokeneth the strong battle against the fair ladies, which were all devils.
‘Also the dry tree and the white lilies: the sere* tree betokeneth thy brother Sir Lionel, which is dry without virtue, and therefore men ought to call him the rotten tree and the worm-eaten tree, for he is a murderer and doth contrary to the order of knighthood. And the two white flowers signify two maidens: the one is a knight which ye wounded the other day, and the other is the gentlewoman which ye rescued; and why the one flower drew nigh the other, that was the knight which would have defouled her and himself both. And Sir Bors, ye had been a great fool and in great peril for to have seen the two flowers perish for to succour the rotten tree, for and they had sinned together they had been damned; and for ye rescued them both, men might call you a very* knight and the servant of Jesu Christ.’
[14]
Then went Sir Bors from thence and commended the abbot to God. And then he rode all tha
t day, and harboured with an old lady; and on the morn he rode to a castle in a valley, and there he met with a yeoman going a great pace toward a forest.
‘Say me,’ said Sir Bors, ‘canst thou tell me of any adventure?’
‘Sir,’ said he, ‘here shall be under this castle a great and a marvellous tournament.’
‘Of what folks shall it be?’ said Sir Bors.
‘The Earl of Plains shall be on the one party, and the Lady’s nephew of Hervin on the other party.’
Then Sir Bors thought to be there to assay if he might meet with his brother Sir Lionel, or any other of his fellowship which were in the quest of the Sangrail. Then he turned to a hermitage that was in the entry of the forest; and when he was come thither he found there Sir Lionel his brother, which sat all unarmed at the entry of the chapel door for to abide there harbour* till on the morn that the tournament should be. And when Sir Bors saw him he had great joy of him, that no man could tell of greater joy. And then he alit off his horse and said, ‘Fair sweet brother, when came ye hither?’
And as Sir Lionel saw him he said, ‘Ah, Sir Bors, ye may not make no avaunt,* but as for you I might have been slain. When ye saw two knights lead me away beating me, ye left me to succour a gentlewoman, and suffered me in peril of death; for never erst* did no brother to another so great an untruth. And for that misdeed I ensure you now but death, for well have ye deserved it. Therefore keep you from me from henceforward, and that shall ye find as soon as I am armed.’
When Sir Bors understood his brother’s wrath, he kneeled down before him to the earth and cried him mercy, holding up both his hands, and prayed him to forgive him his evil will.
‘Nay, nay,’ said Sir Lionel, ‘that shall never be and I may have the higher hand,* that I make my vow to God: thou shalt have death, for it were pity ye lived any longer.’
Right so he went in and took his harness, and lighted upon his horse and came before him and said, ‘Sir Bors, keep thee from me, for I shall do to thee as I would do to a felon or a traitor; for ye be the untruest knight that ever came out of so worthy a house as was King Bors’ de Ganis, which was our father. Therefore start upon thy horse, and so shalt thou be most at thy advantage. And but if thou wilt,* I will run upon thee there as thou art on foot, and so the shame shall be mine and the harm yours; but of that shame reck I nought.’
Le Morte Darthur: The Winchester Manuscript (Oxford World's Classics) Page 47