by Howard Pyle
Chapter Fifth
How Sir Launcelot escaped wounded into the forest, and how Sir Gawaine discovered to the court of King Pelles who was le Chevalier Malfait.
SO SIR LAUNCELOT and Sir Lavaine rode away from that field of battle. And they rode together into the forest, and all that while Sir Launcelot contained his suffering to himself so that Sir Lavaine wist not how grievous was his wound nor how great was the passion of agony that he then endured because of that hurt. But after they had ridden a mile or two or three into the woodland, Sir Launcelot could no longer thus contain himself, wherefore he let droop his head very low and he groaned with great dolor. Then Sir Lavaine was aware that some grievous hurt must have befallen Sir Launcelot. Wherefore he cried out: “Messire, I fear me ye are sore hurt. Now tell me, I beseech you, how is it with you?”
Sir Launcelot declareth his wound.
Then Sir Launcelot groaned again and he said: “Woe is me! I suffer much pain.” And therewith he made to dismount from his horse and would have fallen had not Sir Lavaine catched him and upheld him. After that Sir Lavaine aided Sir Launcelot down from his horse, and Sir Launcelot leaned against a tree of the forest, groaning as from the bottom of his soul, and Sir Lavaine wist not what to do to help him. Then Sir Launcelot turned his eyes, all faint and dim, upon Sir Lavaine, and he said: “Oh, gentle knight, Sir Lavaine, for the mercy of God I beseech you to pluck forth the blade of a spear that has pierced into my side, for I suffer a great pang of torment.”
Then Sir Lavaine was aware of what sort was that wound and he made haste to strip off the body armor from Sir Launcelot. So, when that body armor was thus removed, Sir Lavaine beheld a grievous wound where the blade of the spear had pierced deep into the side of Sir Launcelot a little above the midriff. And Sir Lavaine perceived that the blade of the spear was yet in the wound and that the hurt was very deep. So beholding that wound Sir Lavaine wept, and cried out: “Dear my Lord! Woe is me! I dare not pull out that blade; for an I do so, I dread me sore that you will die here in the forest ere aid can be brought to you and so it shall be I who killed you.”
“No matter,” said Sir Launcelot, speaking very faint and with failing breath. “Do as I bid you, for the point of that blade lieth near to my heart and I suffer a great deal of pain from it.”
Sir Lavaine draweth for the steel.
Then Sir Lavaine laid hold of the shaft of the spear, and he strove to draw forth the blade from out Sir Launcelot’s side, yet he could not do so. And thereupon Sir Launcelot cried aloud in a very piercing voice, “Spare not! Spare not! but pull forth that steel!” So with that Sir Lavaine plucked again with all his might and he drew the steel forth from out of the wound. And as the blade came forth from out of the flesh, Sir Launcelot cried out again in a voice very loud and shrill, saying, “God! God! that this should be!” And with that a great issue of blood gushed out of the wound like a crimson fountain and Sir Launcelot sank down upon the ground in a swoon that was like the swoon of death.
Then Sir Lavaine believed that he had assuredly slain Sir Launcelot, wherefore he wept aloud with a great passion of grief, smiting his hands together and crying, “Woe is me! For I have slain my dear lord!” Thereupon he kneeled down beside Sir Launcelot and fell to feeling his heart. And he perceived that the heart still beat but very faintly, and so he wist that Sir Launcelot was not dead but only in a deadly swoon.
So Sir Lavaine turned Sir Launcelot where that the wind blew upon him and after a while Sir Launcelot opened his eyes again. Then with his sight all swimming he beheld Sir Lavaine kneeling beside him weeping, and he said, speaking in a voice very weak and faint, “Lavaine, am I yet alive?” And Sir Lavaine said, “Yea, Lord.” Sir Launcelot said, “Then bear me away from this place.” And Sir Lavaine said, “Whither shall I take you?” Sir Launcelot said: “Listen, Friend, bear me away into the forest to the westward of here. For after a while to the westward of this place you shall find a forest path that runs across your way. And you shall take that path toward the right hand and so you will come after another while to the hut of an hermit of the forest. Bring me to that holy man; for if any one can cure me of this hurt he alone can do so.” Sir Lavaine said: “Lord, how shall I take you such a journey as that, so that you shall not die?” Sir Launcelot replied: “I know not how you shall take me, but this I know: that if you take me not to that place I shall certes die here before your eyes in this forest.”
Sir Lavaine beareth Sir Launcelot thence.
So Sir Lavaine, weeping, made a litter of straight young trees and he laid his cloak upon the litter and he bound the litter to the horses. Then he lifted Sir Launcelot and laid him upon the litter as though it were a little child whom he laid there. Thereafter he took the foremost horse by the bridle, and so, led away into the forest whither Sir Launcelot had bidden him to go.
So in that wise they travelled in the forest for a great while and by and by night descended and the full moon arose all white and shining into the sky. And it rose ever higher and higher and it shone down upon the forest woodlands so that here it was all bright and there it was all agloom with shadow; and anon Sir Lavaine, as he led the horses in that wise, would walk in that silver silent light and anon he would be lost in those shadows. And all that while Sir Launcelot lay so still that several times Sir Lavaine thought haply he was dead. Then he would say, “Sir, art thou dead?” And ever Sir Launcelot would answer, “Not yet.”
Thus they travelled for a great while in that still forest (all so silent and wonderful) and beneath the clear pale moonlight that caused everything to appear like to an enchantment of stillness. So, somewhat after the middle watch of the night, Sir Lavaine beheld before him a little chapel built up against the rocks of a cliff of stone and beneath the black and umbrageous foliage of a large oak tree. And the moonlight shone down past the oak tree and bathed all the front of that little chapel with pure white silvery light, so still and silent that the chapel appeared as in a strange and singular picture as it were seen in a dream.
They come to the forest chapel.
Thither Sir Lavaine led the horses bearing between them the wounded knight, whose face, as white as the moon above, was turned upward against the sky. And when Sir Lavaine had come to the door of the chapel he smote upon it with the butt of his lance; and he smote again, and therewith the door was opened and there appeared in the doorway the figure of an aged man with a long white beard like to snow for whiteness. And that man was the hermit of the forest afore spoken of several times in these histories.
Then when that reverend hermit beheld where Sir Launcelot lay in the litter, so sorely wounded, he came to him and felt of his heart. So, perceiving him to be alive, he aided Sir Lavaine to lift the wounded man from the litter and to bear him into the hut and to lay him upon a soft and fragrant couch of leaves and moss.
At that time Sir Launcelot was in a deep swoon like as though he were dead; yet he was not dead, for after the hermit had bathed his face with strong wine, and after he had set pungent herbs to his nostrils, by and by Sir Launcelot revived so as to sigh very deep and to open his eyes. And Sir Launcelot said, “Where am I? Am I still alive?” The hermit said, “Yea, Messire.” Sir Launcelot said, “I wist that maybe I was dead.”
Then the hermit searched Sir Launcelot’s wound and bathed it and put unguents upon it and bound it about with bandages of linen and so Sir Launcelot was put at ease. And after that Sir Launcelot fell into a deep sleep so still and profound that it was like to the slumber of a little child.
Now whilst Sir Launcelot thus slept, Sir Lavaine and the hermit walked in the moonlight upon a little lawn of grass before the door of the hermitage. By and by the hermit said to Sir Lavaine: “Sir Knight, know you who yonder knight is whom you brought hither to-night?” and Sir Lavaine said, “Nay, I know not, save that he calleth himself le Chevalier Malfait.”
The hermit declareth Sir Launcelot’s name.
“Well,” quoth the hermit, “God knows that all we who live upon His earth may eas
ily do ill in His sight; yet I dare to say that that yonder knight hath done as little ill as any of us. Sir, you must know that he is none other than Sir Launcelot of the Lake.”
At this Sir Lavaine cried out aloud in great wonder, saying: “What is it that you tell me! Lo! This knight hath dwelt at the court of my father, King Pelles of Corbin, for more than a year yet no one there wist that it was Sir Launcelot of the Lake whom we entertained in our midst.”
“And yet,” quoth the hermit, “that wounded man is none other than he.”
King Arthur sits at feast.
Now that same night whilst Sir Launcelot lay thus wounded in the hermit’s cell in the forest, a great feast was held at Astolat in the presence of King Arthur. There were set fourteen tables in the great hall of the castle of Astolat, and at those tables there sat down seven hundred in all of the lords and knights and ladies of that land — kings, earls, dukes, barons, knights, and esquires with their dames — fifty at each table.
Then King Arthur looked all about but he beheld no sign of Sir Launcelot, wherefore he said to the King of North Wales who sat nigh to him: “Where is that worthy knight who was with you to-day — he who wore about his helmet a flame-colored sleeve embroidered with fair pearls of price?” To this the King of North Wales replied: “Lord, we know not where that worshipful champion now is. For although we besought him to come hither with us, and although we besought him to come to you so that you might award unto him the prize of battle, yet he would not. For he proclaimed himself to be wounded and craved our leave to withdraw himself — wherefore we gave him that leave and he hied him away and we know not whither he hath gone.”
“Now I am right sorry for that,” quoth King Arthur, “for I would rather have that knight to feast with us than any one of all those who wear spurs in this hall. And I am still more sorry to hear that so worshipful a champion as that should have met with mishap in this battle of to-day. Yet do I hope that wound which he suffered is not so sore but that he will soon be well again.”
“Lord,” quoth the King of North Wales, “mefeareth that that noble knight, whomsoever he may be, hath been very grievously hurt; for when he spake to us his voice was passing weak and he appeared to suffer a great deal of pain.”
Then King Arthur was much grieved at what he heard and he said: “That is sad news for me, for rather would I lose half of my kingdom than that death should befall that noble champion.” So said King Arthur, yet he would not say who was that champion of the red sleeve, for he perceived that Sir Launcelot would fain conceal his name, wherefore neither would he betray it.
The Lady Elaine grieveth.
Now King Pelles sat not far from King Arthur’s high seat at the table, and the Lady Elaine the Fair sat with him and several lords of their court were there also. These heard what was said between King Arthur and the King of North Wales, and when the Lady Elaine the Fair heard how that her champion was so sorely wounded that he was like to die, it was as though a sword of terror had been thrust into her bosom; for hearing those words she turned all as white as ashes and sank back into her chair as though she would swoon.
Seeing her thus, all white and stricken, King Pelles said, “Daughter, what ails thee?” and she said: “My father, did you not hear how that the Chevalier Malfait hath been sorely wounded and mayhap may be even now lying nigh to death?” “Yea, I did hear that,” said King Pelles, “but such is the chance of battle that every good knight is called upon to face.” Then the Lady Elaine cried out: “Father! Father! I am sorely afraid that great ill hath befallen that noble knight. Now I pray thee, let us go hence.” King Pelles said, “Whither shall we go?” She said: “Haply, my brother, Sir Lavaine, will bring him to the castle of the earl our kinsman, wherefore I pray you, sir, let us make haste thither and see if that be so.” And King Pelles said, “It shall be as you will have it.”
So King Pelles besought leave of King Arthur to quit that feast, and King Arthur gave him leave and King Pelles withdrew with the Lady Elaine and all of his court from that company.
Yet when they returned to the castle of the earl, Sir Launcelot was not there, for, as hath been told, he lay at that time in the hermit’s cell in the forest with his soul hanging in the scales betwixt life and death.
King Arthur speaketh to Sir Gawaine.
But King Arthur ever bore in mind how it was Sir Launcelot had been wounded, wherefore, when that feast was over, he took Sir Gawaine aside, and he said to him: “Sir, I would that you would seek out that knight of the red sleeve where he is and bring him aid and succor.” Sir Gawaine said: “Lord, I pray you tell me; know you who is that knight? Methinks he should be Sir Launcelot of the Lake, for I know of no other than he who could do so nobly in battle as that champion did to-day. And yet, he cannot be Sir Launcelot, for you wist very well that Sir Launcelot would not wear the favor of any lady in such a wise as he wore the sleeve about his helm to-day. So I know not who that knight can be.”
“Well,” said King Arthur, “when you have succored him then you will know who he is.”
Sir Gawaine departs in search of Sir Launcelot.
So Sir Gawaine withdrew from the court to seek that wounded champion. And he remembered him that the knight had called himself le Chevalier Malfait and that his companion-in-arms was Sir Lavaine, the son of King Pelles of Corbin. So Sir Gawaine went to where were a number of knights who knew of King Pelles, and he asked of these and of several others: “Know ye, Messires, where I shall find King Pelles of Corbin?” They say to him, “King Pelles is lodging at such and such a place.” So Sir Gawaine took horse and rode forth to the castle of the earl with whom King Pelles had taken up his lodging, and King Pelles and his court were still at that place. Then Sir Gawaine made demand to have speech with King Pelles and therewith he was brought before the King where he was. And the Lady Elaine the Fair was with King Pelles at that time, and Sir Gawaine, when he beheld her, was amazed at her beauty.
Then Sir Gawaine said to King Pelles: “Fair Lord, can you tell me where I shall find that wounded knight who called himself le Chevalier Malfait?” King Pelles said, “Alas! I know not where he is.” Sir Gawaine said, “Lord, I pray you tell me who he is and what is his name.” To this King Pelles made reply: “Messire, I know not who that knight is saving only that he came to us somewhat more than a year ago and that he slew the great Dragon of Corbin; and that he was sorely wounded in his encounter with the Dragon. Since that he hath abided at our court but never have we known him by any other name than le Chevalier Malfait.”
Then Sir Gawaine said: “Now I pray you tell me who was the lady who gave her sleeve as a favor unto that knight, for no doubt she may know who he is.”
Then the Lady Elaine said: “Messire, it was I who gave my sleeve to him, yet neither do I know who he is nor whence he came.”
Sir Gawaine said: “Have you naught that you may know him by?” Whereunto the Lady Elaine made reply: “Sir, by leave of our cousin, the earl of this castle, I purveyed armor in which le Chavalier Malfait might do battle in this tournament. Now when he quitted us he confided his armor and his shield to me that I might hold them in safe keeping for him until his return hither. Perhaps you can tell from his shield who is that worshipful knight.”
Sir Gawaine said: “I prithee, fair lady, tell me what device was painted upon the shield?” And the Lady Elaine said: “I know not what was that device for the shield was all encased in leather laced upon it and painted white so that no one might see the device which it beareth.”
Sir Gawaine knoweth Sir Launcelot’s shield.
Then Sir Gawaine said, “Let me see that shield.” And thereupon the Lady Elaine sent her attendants to fetch the shield and they brought it to her where they were. Then Sir Gawaine unlaced the leather from the shield and drew the shield forth from its case, and lo! the shield shone all dazzling bright, like to the sun in his glory. And Sir Gawaine beheld the device upon the shield that it was a knight kneeling to a lady upon a field of silver, and by that he knew (and sev
eral others who were there knew) that it was the shield of Sir Launcelot. Thereupon Sir Gawaine turned him to the Lady Elaine the Fair and he said: “Lady, it is no wonder that this knight who hath worn thy favor should have done so well in battle yesterday. For wit ye that this is the shield of Sir Launcelot of the Lake and wit ye that it is to none other than he to whom you gave your sleeve. So I wish you much joy of that great honor that hath come to you through him; for you are to know that never hath it ever been heard tell of before this that Sir Launcelot hath worn the favor of any lady when he hath gone to battle.”
But as for the Lady Elaine, when she knew that it was Sir Launcelot of the Lake to whom she had given her sleeve, she was filled full of a great joy and also with a sort of terror. For she had much joy that she should have been so wonderfully honored by that noble knight Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and yet when she bethought herself how she had set her regard upon him who regarded no lady in the light of love she was filled with a sort of terror because she forecast that nothing but sorrow could come to her who had placed her heart and all her happiness in the keeping of this knight, who had no heart or happiness to bestow upon any lady in return.
But King Pelles was unaware of what thoughts lay within the heart of his daughter. His spirit was greatly uplifted with the thought that Sir Launcelot should have been a knight of his court for so long a while and he said: “Messire, this is a very wonderful thing that you tell us, for who would have thought that he was Sir Launcelot who has been with us all this time? Now I know not any glory that could come to us that should be greater than that; to wit, to have had that noble, worthy, and glorious champion for to serve as a knight of our court. For now, because of him, this court hath become famous for all time, that otherwise would not have been known very far or for a very long while.”
“Lord,” said Sir Gawaine, “I do indeed give you great joy of this honor that you have had through him; for I must tell you that yours is the only court in all the world in which Sir Launcelot has ever served as champion, saving only in the Court of King Arthur. Wherefore this is a very singular honor that hath been visited upon you.”