by Howard Pyle
So he came at last to the long bridge that reached from the land to the island, and he saw that at the farther end of the bridge was the gateway of the town and through the arch thereof he could perceive a street of the town, and the houses upon either side of the street, and the people thereof coming and going.
Sir Launcelot crosses the bridge to the town.
So he rode forth upon the bridge and at the noise of his coming (for the hoofs of his horse sounded like thunder upon the floor of the bridge) the people of the town came running to see who it was that dared to come so boldly into their town.
These, when Sir Launcelot came nigh, began to call to him on high, crying: “Turn back, Sir Knight! Turn back! Else you will meet your death at this place.”
But Sir Launcelot would not turn back, but advanced very steadfastly upon his way.
Now somewhat nigh the farther end of that bridge there stood a little lodge of stone, built to shelter the warden of the bridge from stress of weather. When Sir Launcelot came nigh to this lodge there started suddenly out from it a great churl, above seven feet high, who bore in his hand a huge club, shod with iron and with great spikes of iron at the top. This churl ran to Sir Launcelot and catched his horse by the bridle-rein and thrust it back upon its haunches, crying out in a great hoarse voice: “Whither goest thou, Sir Knight, for to cross this bridge?” Sir Launcelot said: “Let go my horse’s rein, Sir Churl.” Whereunto the churl made answer: “I will not let go thy horse’s rein, and thou shalt not cross this bridge.”
Sir Launcelot slays the huge churl.
At this Sir Launcelot waxed very angry, and he drew his sword and struck the churl a blow with the flat thereof upon the shoulder, so that he dropped the rein very quickly. Therewith that churl drew back and took his great iron-shod club in both hands and struck at Sir Launcelot a blow that would have split a millstone. But Sir Launcelot put by the blow with his sword so that it did him no harm. But therewith he waxed so wroth that he ground his teeth together with anger, and, rising in his stirrups, he lashed that churl so woeful a blow that he cleft through his iron cap and his head and his breast even to the paps.
The folk warn Sir Launcelot.
Now when the people of the town beheld that terrible blow they lifted up their voices in a great outcry, crying out: “Turn back, Sir Knight! Turn back! For this is a very woful thing for thee that thou hast done!” and some cried out: “Thou hast killed the giants’ warder of the bridge!” And others cried: “Thou art a dead man unless thou make haste away from this.” But to all this Sir Launcelot paid no heed, but wiped his sword and thrust it back into its sheath. Then he went forward upon his way across the bridge as though nothing had befallen, and so came to the farther side. Then, without paying any heed to all the people who were there, he rode straight to the castle and into the gate of the castle and into the court-yard thereof.
Now by this time all the castle was astir, and in great tumult, and many people came running to the windows and looked down upon Sir Launcelot. And Sir Launcelot sat his horse and looked all about him. So he perceived that beyond the court-yard was a fair space of grass, very smooth and green, well fitted for battle, wherefore he dismounted from his horse and tied it to a ring in the wall, and then he went to that green field and made him ready for whatever might befall.
Meantime all those people who were at the windows of the castle cried out to him, as the people of the town had done: “Go away, Sir Knight! Go away whilst there is still time for you to escape, or else you are a dead man!”
But Sir Launcelot replied not, but stood there and waited very steadfastly. Then the great door of the castle hall opened, and there came forth therefrom those two giants of whom he had heard tell.
Two giants attack Sir Launcelot.
And in truth Sir Launcelot had never beheld such horrible beings as they; for they were above ten feet high, and very huge of body and long of limb. And they were clad in armor of bull-hide with iron rings upon it, and each was armed with a great club, huge and thick, and shod with iron, and studded with spikes. These came toward Sir Launcelot swinging their clubs and laughing very hideously and gnashing their long white teeth, for they thought to make easy work of him.
How Sir Launcelot slays the first giant.
Then Sir Launcelot, seeing them coming thus, set his shield before him, and made ready for that assault with great calmness of demeanor. Then the giants rushed suddenly upon him and struck at him, the both of them together; for they deemed that by so doing the enemy could not escape both blows, but if one failed the other would slay him. But Sir Launcelot put aside the blow of one giant with his sword and of the other with his shield, with marvellous dexterity. Thereupon, ere they could recover themselves, he turned upon that giant who was upon his left hand and he struck him so terrible a blow upon the shoulder that he cut through the armor and through the shoulder and half-way through the body, so that the head and one arm of the giant leaned toward one way, and the other arm and the shoulder leaned toward the other way. Therewith the giant fell down upon the ground bellowing, so that it was most terrible to hear; and in a little he had died where he had fallen.
How Sir Launcelot slays the second giant.
Now when the fellow of that giant beheld that dreadful, horrible stroke, he was so possessed with terror that he stood for a while trembling and like one in a maze. But when he saw Sir Launcelot turn upon him with intent to make at him also, he let fall his club and ran away with great and fearful outcry. Therewith he ran toward the castle and would have entered therein, but those within the castle had closed the doors and the gates against him, so that he could not escape in that way. So the giant ran around and around the court with great outcry, seeking for some escape from his pursuer, and Sir Launcelot ran after him. And Sir Launcelot struck him several times with his sword, so that at last, what with terror and pain and weariness, that giant stumbled and fell upon the ground. Therewith Sir Launcelot ran at him, and, ere he could rise, he took his sword in both hands and smote off his head so that it rolled down upon the ground like a ball. Then Sir Launcelot stood there panting for breath, for he had raced very hard after the giant, and could hardly catch his breath again. As he stood so, many of those of the castle and many of those who were of the town came to him from all sides; and they crowded around him and gave him great acclaim for ridding that place of those giants.
Then Sir Launcelot said to them: “Where is your lord?” Whereunto they made reply: “Sir, he lieth in the dungeon of the castle under the ground chained to the walls thereof, and there he hath been for three years or more, and no one hath dared to bring him succor until you came hither.” “Go find him,” said Sir Launcelot, “and set him free, and lose no time in doing so. And put him at all ease that you can.”
Sir Launcelot departs without refreshment.
They say: “Will you not stay and see him, Messire, and receive his acknowledgements for what you have done?” But Sir Launcelot replied: “Nay, not so.” Then they say: “Will you not have some refreshment after this battle?” Whereunto Sir Launcelot said: “I do not need such refreshment.” Then they say: “But will you not rest a little?” “Nay,” said Sir Launcelot: “I may not tarry, for I have far to go and several things to do, so that I do not care to stay.” So he loosed his horse from the ring in the wall, and mounted upon it and rode away from that castle and from that town and across the bridge whence he had come. And all the people followed after him, giving him great acclaim.
So Sir Launcelot left the castle, not because he needed no rest, but because he could not endure to receive the thanks of those whom he benefited. For though he loved to bring aid to the needy, yet he did not love to receive their thanks and their praise. Wherefore, having freed the lord of that castle from that brood of giants, he was content therewith and went his way without resting or waiting for thanks.
For so it was with those noble gallant knights of those days; that whilst they would perform signal service for mankind, yet they were
not pleased to receive thanks or reward for the same, but took the utmost satisfaction, not in what they gained by their acts, but in the doing of knightly deeds, for they found all their reward in their deeds, because that thereby they made the world in which they lived better; and because they made the glory of the King, whose servants they were, the more glorious.
And I hold that such behavior upon the part of anyone makes him the peer of Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram or Sir Lamorack or Sir Percival; yea, of Sir Galahad himself. For it does not need either the accolade or the bath to cause a man to be a true knight of God’s making; nor does it need that a mortal King should lay sword upon shoulder to constitute a man the fellow of such knightly company as that whose history I am herewith writing; it needs only that he should prove himself at all times worthy in the performance of his duty, and that he shall not consider the hope of reward, or of praise of others in the performance of that duty.
So look to it that in all your services you take example of the noble Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and that you do your uttermost with might and main, and that you therewith rest content with having done your best, maugre any praise. So you shall become a worthy fellow of Sir Launcelot and of his fellows.
Chapter Eighth
HOW SIR LAUNCELOT Rescued Sir Kay From a Perilous Pass. Also How He Changed Armor with Sir Kay and what Befell.
One day Sir Launcelot came at early nightfall to a goodly manor-house and there he besought lodging for the night, and lodging was granted to him very willingly.
The old gentlewoman makes Sir Launcelot welcome.
Now there was no lord of that manor, but only an old gentlewoman of very good breeding and address. She made Sir Launcelot right welcome and gave such cheer as she could, setting before him a very good supper, hot and savory, and a great beaker of humming mead wherewith to wash it down. Whilst Sir Launcelot ate, the gentlewoman inquired of him his name and he told her it was Sir Launcelot of the Lake. “Ha!” quoth she, “I never heard that name before, but it is a very good name.”
At this Sir Launcelot laughed: “I am glad,” said he, “that my name belikes thee. As for thy not having heard of it — well, I am a young knight as yet, having had but three years of service. Yet I have hopes that by and by it may be better known than it is at this present.”
“Thou sayest well,” quoth she, “for thou art very young yet, wherefore thou mayst not know what thou canst do till thou hast tried.” And therewith Sir Launcelot laughed again, and said: “Yea, that is very true.”
Now after Sir Launcelot had supped, his hostess showed him to the lodging she had provided for him wherein to sleep, and the lodging was in a fair garret over the gateway of the court. So Sir Launcelot went to his bed and, being weary with journeying, he presently fell into a deep and gentle sleep.
Sir Launcelot is aroused from sleep.
Now about the middle of the night there fell of a sudden the noise of someone beating upon the gate and calling in a loud voice and demanding immediate admittance thereat. This noise awoke Sir Launcelot, and he arose from his couch and went to the window and looked out to see who it was that shouted so loudly and made such uproar.
The moon was shining at that time, very bright and still, and by the light thereof Sir Launcelot beheld that there was a knight in full armor seated upon horseback without the gate, and that the knight beat upon the gate with the pommel of his sword, and shouted that they should let him in.
But ere anyone could run to answer his call there came a great noise of horses upon the highroad, and immediately after there appeared three knights riding very fiercely that way, and these three knights were plainly pursuing that one knight. For, when they perceived him, they rode very violently to where he was, and fell upon him fiercely, all three at one time; wherefore, though that one knight defended himself as well as he could, yet was he in a very sorry way, and altogether likely to be overborne. For those three surrounded him so close to the gate that he could do little to shift himself away from their assaults.
Now when Sir Launcelot beheld how those three knights attacked that one knight, he said to himself: “Of a surety, yonder knight is in a very sorry way. I will do what I can to help him; for it is a shame to behold three knights attack one knight in that way. And if he be slain in this assault, meseems I shall be a party to his death.”
Sir Launcelot goeth to the rescue of the knight assaulted.
Therewith he ran and put his armor upon him, and made ready for battle. Then he drew the sheet from his bed, and he tied the sheet to the bar of the window and by it he let himself quickly down to the ground not far from where those knights were doing battle. So being safely arrived in that way he cried out in a very loud voice: “Messires, leave that knight whom ye assail, and turn to me, for I have a mind to do battle with you myself.”
Then one of those knights, speaking very fiercely, said: “Who are you, and what business have you here?”
“It matters not who I am,” said Sir Launcelot, “but I will not have it that you three shall attack that one without first having had to do with me.”
“Very well,” said that knight who had spoken, “you shall presently have your will of that.”
Therewith he and his fellows immediately descended from their horses, and drew their swords and came at Sir Launcelot upon three sides at once. Then Sir Launcelot set his back against the gate and prepared to defend himself.
Therewith that knight whom he would defend immediately got down from his horse with intent to come to the aid of Sir Launcelot, but Sir Launcelot forbade him very fiercely, saying: “Let be, Sir Knight, this is my quarrel, and you shall not meddle in it.”
Sir Launcelot does battle with three knights.
Upon this, those three knights rushed upon him very furiously, and they struck at him all at once, smiting at him wherever they could and with all their might and main. So Sir Launcelot had much ado to defend himself from their assault. But he made shift that they should not all rush in upon him at once, and by and by he found his chance with one of them. Whereupon he turned suddenly upon that one, and suddenly he lashed so terrible a buffet at him that the knight fell down and lay as though he had been struck dead with the force thereof.
Then, ere those other two had recovered themselves, he ran at a second and struck him so fierce a blow that his wits left him, and he staggered like a drunken man and ran around and around in a circle, not knowing whither he went. Then he rushed upon the third and thrust him back with great violence, and as he went back Sir Launcelot struck him, too, as he had struck his companions and therewith that knight dropped his sword and fell down upon his knees and had not power to raise himself up.
Then Sir Launcelot ran to him and snatched off his helmet, and catched him by the hair with intent to cut off his head. But at that the fallen knight embraced Sir Launcelot about the knees, crying out: “Spare my life!”
“Why should I spare you?” said Sir Launcelot. “Sir,” cried the knight, “I beseech you of your knighthood to spare me.”
“What claim have you upon knighthood,” said Sir Launcelot, “who would attack a single knight, three men against one man?”
Then the other of those knights who had been staggered by Sir Launcelot’s blow, but who had by now somewhat recovered himself, came and kneeled to Sir Launcelot, and said: “Sir, spare his life, for we all yield ourselves unto you, for certes, you are the greatest champion in all the world.”
Then Sir Launcelot was appeased, but he said: “Nay, I will not take your yielding unto me. For as you three assaulted this single knight, so shall you all three yield to him.”
“Messire,” said the knight who kneeled: “I am very loth to yield us to that knight, for we chased him hither, and he fled from us, and we would have overcome him had you not come to his aid.”
“Well,” said Sir Launcelot, “I care nothing for all that, but only that you do as I will. And if ye do not do it, then I must perforce slay your companions and you two. Wherefore you may take
your choice.”
The three knights must yield to the one knight.
Then said that knight who kneeled: “Messire, I see no other thing to do than to yield us as you would have, wherefore we submit ourselves unto this knight whom you have rescued from us.”
Then Sir Launcelot turned to that knight to whom he had brought aid in that matter, and he said: “Sir Knight, these knights yield themselves unto you to do as you command them. Now I pray you of your courtesy to tell me your name and who you are.”
“Sir,” said that knight, “I am Sir Kay the Seneschal, and am King Arthur’s foster-brother, and a knight of the Round Table. I have been errant now for some time in search of Sir Launcelot of the Lake. Now, I deem either that you are Sir Launcelot, or else that you are the peer of Sir Launcelot.”
“Thou art right, Sir Kay,” said Sir Launcelot, “and I am Sir Launcelot of the Lake.” So thereat they two made great joy over one another, and embraced one another as brothers-in-arms should do.
Then Sir Kay told Sir Launcelot how it was with those three knights who had assailed him; that they were three brethren, and that he had overthrown the fourth brother in an adventure at arms and had hurt him very sorely thereby. So those three had been pursuing him for three days with intent to do him a harm.
Sir Kay taketh submission of the three knights.
Now Sir Kay was very loath to take submission of those three knights, but Sir Launcelot would have it so and no other way. So Sir Kay consented to let it be as Sir Launcelot willed. Thereupon those three knights came and submitted themselves to Sir Kay, and Sir Kay ordained that they should go to Camelot and lay their case before King Arthur, and that King Arthur should adjudge their case according to what he considered to be right and fitting.
Then those three knights mounted upon their horses and rode away, and when they had done so the gates of the manor were opened, and Sir Launcelot and Sir Kay entered in. But when the old lady who was his hostess beheld Sir Launcelot come in, she was very greatly astonished, for she wist he was still asleep in his bed-chamber. Wherefore she said: “Sir, methought you were in bed and asleep.” “So indeed I was,” said Sir Launcelot, “but when I saw this knight in peril of his life against three knights, I leaped out of my window and went to his aid.” “Well,” said his hostess, “meseems that you will sometime be a very good knight, if you have so much courage whilst you are so young.” And at that both Sir Launcelot and Sir Kay laughed a great deal.