by Howard Pyle
Sir Launcelot said, “Lady, I can never wed any woman in this world but thee.” And the Queen said, “Ah, Launcelot, that is a pity.”
Sir Launcelot departeth from the Queen.
So that speech between those two came to an end, and Sir Launcelot rode away from that place with his head bowed low upon his breast. And Sir Launcelot rode ever toward the forest and anon he rode into the forest. And when Sir Launcelot had come to that place he kneeled down before that Hermit of the Forest and he said to him “Sir, I pray you to confess me and assoil me. For here henceforth and to the end of my days will I remain a hermit of the forest like as thou art. Several times have I lived here as a recluse, yet have I ever returned by and by to the world. But now will I never return to that world again; for all the pleasure of that world was taken away from me and I am left barren of hope and of joy.”
Sir Launcelot becometh a forest recluse.
So Sir Launcelot withdrew to another part of the forest, and he took his armor from off his body and hung his armor up upon the branches of a tree that was near at hand. And he took the harness and trappings from off his horse and he turned his horse loose to browse at will upon the grass that grew there at that place. So Sir Launcelot became a recluse of the forest with intent never more to be anything else than that forest recluse.
Now when those knights who were in attendance upon Sir Launcelot at Dover discovered that he had gone from them, they wist not where he had gone and they searched for him at all places, and yet they could not find him. So most of those knights separated and divided, each knight departing to his own home. But several of those who were kin to Sir Launcelot joined them together to search for him. And these were the knights that searched for Sir Launcelot: there were Sir Bors and Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamor de Ganis, and there was Sir Galahud and Sir Galahadin, and there was Sir Villiars, and there was Sir Clarus. These seven knights searched Britain from end to end and all athwart the land, and ever they sought for Sir Launcelot. So, at last, they came to that part of the forest where Sir Launcelot abided.
And those knights beheld a horse browsing in the open parts of the forest, and Sir Bors said to the others, “Messires, yonder an I mistake not is the horse of Sir Launcelot.” Then they went a little farther and they beheld the armor of Sir Launcelot hanging upon the branches of the tree. And Sir Bors examined that armor and he said, “This, certes, is the armor of Sir Launcelot. Now he cannot be far distant from this place.”
Anon they heard the knelling of a little vesper bell, and Sir Bors said, “Yonder is the bell of the Hermit of the Forest. Let us go thitherward and mayhap we may hear news of Sir Launcelot.” So they went in that direction and by and by they came to the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest. And they looked within the chapel door and they beheld the Hermit and another anchorite kneeling in prayer. And there were little birds within the chapel and they hopped about there upon the floor and about those two kneeling figures and were not afraid of either of them.
The knights companion find Sir Launcelot.
So, by and by, those two ended their prayers, and they arose. Then those knights beheld the face of the anchorite and they saw that it was the face of Sir Launcelot. For though the face of Sir Launcelot was covered with a beard and though it was very thin and peaked from fasting, yet they knew it for his face. For Sir Launcelot had eaten no meat and but little food of any sort, but had deprived himself of food for the betterment of his soul.
Then Sir Bors spake and he said, “Sir Launcelot, is it thou who art here?” And Sir Launcelot said, “Aye, it is indeed I whom thou beholdest.” Sir Bors said, “Sir, this life does not beseem thee to lead, wherefore place upon thee thine armor and come forth with us into the world again. For thy life is certes of value to that world.” “Nay,” said Sir Launcelot, “I will not leave this place, for here I dwell in peace and amity with the world. Why then should I again go forth into strife as of old?” Quoth Sir Bors, “Sir, this life thou art leading is but the neglect of duty, for the duty of every knight is to be within the world and to do the work of the world, be that work to battle or to labor. Why then shouldst thou rest here in this hermitage and without action of any sort?”
“Messire,” said Sir Launcelot, “were there a call for me to go forth into the world, then would I go. For my duty would then demand of me to assume again the armor of my knighthood. But there is no such call, nor am I any longer young, as one time I was. Wherefore, now hath come my time for rest, and so I remain here in quiet within the woodlands.”
The knights companion become recluses.
Sir Bors said, “Sir, we are your knights and your followers, wherefore if you remain here within the forest, so also do we remain with you. For your life shall be our life and your fare shall be our fare until the end.” And Sir Launcelot said, “Let it be that way.”
So all those knights remained there within the forest and all of them assumed the holy orders of hermits. Thus they remained there for three years and in that time they dwelt in great peace and concord. And they disturbed none of those things that were living within the forest, so that the wild creatures of the forest presently grew tame to them. For they could lay their hands upon the haunches of the wild doe of the forest and it would not flee away from them, for the wild thing wist that they meant it no harm.
Thus they lived there in solitude and they cultivated their plots of pulse and barley, and the fame of their virtues and of their holiness spread far and wide, so that many people came thither from the world for the sake of their prayers and of their benediction.
Now one night as he slept Sir Launcelot had a dream, and the dream came to him in the second watch of the night. And the dream of Sir Launcelot was this:
Sir Launcelot dreameth.
He dreamed that he beheld Queen Guinevere standing before him, and her face smiled and was very radiant as though a bright light shone through her face from behind. For her face was translated by that light so that it was all of a glorious and rosy pink in its color. And the Queen was clad all in a very straight robe of cloth of gold and that robe shone with a very singular lustre. And around her neck and her arms were many ornaments of gold and these also shone and glittered as she moved or breathed. And this vision of Queen Guinevere said, “Rejoice, O Sir Launcelot! For my troubles and cares are at an end. For now I am in Paradise and my body sleepeth and is dead.”
Then Sir Launcelot awoke and he found that it was morning and that the sun was shining.
And Sir Launcelot arose and went forth and he came to where the Hermit was, and he told the Hermit of that dream. Then the Hermit said to him, “Sir, meseems from this dream that the Queen is no more, but that she is dead and that her soul hath been translated unto Paradise. Make haste and go thither where she is and see if this be so.”
So Sir Launcelot mounted his horse and his seven companions mounted their horses and together they rode unto Rochester. And Sir Launcelot rode to the nunnery at that place and he said to them that came to him, “Where is the Lady Abbess of this monastery?”
They say to him, “Sir, she died last night at the second watch of the night.” Sir Launcelot said, “Bring me to her.”
He beholdeth the dead Queen.
So they took Sir Launcelot to where lay the body of the Queen, and it was in a large upper room and the windows were open and the breeze blew cold through the room. And Sir Launcelot beheld the Queen that her body lay upon a couch of white linen, and he perceived that the face of the body was white like to wax. And he saw that the lips of the body smiled as he had beheld the Queen to smile in the dream that he had had of her the night before.
Then Sir Launcelot did not weep, only he stood with his hands clasped very tightly together, and he reviewed in his mind all that had befallen him and her. And he reviewed the first time that he had come to the King’s Court at Camelot. And he reviewed how he had sacrificed the life of his lady for the love of the Queen. And he reviewed how he had done battle for the Queen, and how he had saved her lif
e by that battle, and he reviewed how he had fought and slain his friends that he might bring her away from her trial to Joyous Gard. All those things he reviewed, and some of those things were of peace to him and some of them were of torment. Then he spake and he said, “Ah, Lady! Would that I were lying as thou lyest. For then would I too be at peace, whiles now I am not at peace.”
So died Queen Guinevere, and at that time she was in the forty-sixth year of her age and was exceedingly beautiful.
So those eight knights remained there at the nunnery for two days, and upon the third day the body of Queen Guinevere was interred before the altar of the nunnery. And upon the stone that covered that body were these words:
Hir · jaret · Guinevera · Regina
Quondam · Regina · Brittaniæ · erat.
And for many years that entablature was to be seen at Rochester, wherefore it may be known that Queen Guinevere was indeed there buried. For so saith the history of those things and so those things must be.
After all those things had passed, those knights again retired to the forest and there they again took up their abode as of old. And so they lived there for two or three years longer. Then they left that forest as shall presently be told.
For now speak we of the Passing of Sir Launcelot, which was as follows:
Sir Launcelot cometh not to prayers.
One morning all they who were there awoke very early and they went to their matin prayers. That morning was in the May time, all the trees were in leaf and the apple trees were in blossom. For whensoever the soft warm wind blew through the trees, then did those blossoms shed their fragrant pink snow until all the grass around about was spread therewith. And the birds were singing in every bush and tree so that all the air was full of their melodious and harmonious jubilation.
That time when they were assembled they looked around and beheld that Sir Launcelot was not there and they said, “Where is Sir Launcelot, that he cometh not to matin prayers?” So Sir Bors went to the cell of Sir Launcelot and he beheld that Sir Launcelot was lying very peacefully upon his couch. And Sir Bors went to Sir Launcelot to arouse him, and he saw that Sir Launcelot was dead. And the hands of Sir Launcelot were folded upon his breast, and there was a smile of great peace and good content upon the lips of Sir Launcelot.
Sir Bors beholdeth him, dead.
Then Sir Bors went to the door of the cell of Sir Launcelot and he called those others to come thither and they did so. And Sir Bors said to them, “Behold! Here lyeth that which was once Sir Launcelot, but which is that knight no more. But God be praised that he died in such peace and tranquillity as he hath done.”
And all they, as they gazed upon Sir Launcelot, beheld that it was so, and that he had indeed died in great peace and tranquillity with his God.
And Sir Bors said, “Let us take the body of this good knight and carry it to Joyous Gard that it may be buried there. For so would he have it that his body should be buried at Joyous Gard.”
So they brought them to that forest place a horse bier and they laid the body of Sir Launcelot upon that horse bier, and they covered the body so that no one might see it in passing. And they bore the body thence and to Joyous Gard, and so, after many tribulations and many sufferings and sorrows, the body of Sir Launcelot lay in peace and quietness at that place.
He lyeth at Joyous Gard.
And those knights who were with him did not return to the forest, otherwise they continued at Joyous Gard. And one of those knights always sat at vigil beside the tomb of Sir Launcelot and kept burning there seven waxen tapers. And so the tomb was always illuminated with those waxen tapers whiles those knights lived.
Of the death of Sir Bors.
And the last of those knights to die was Sir Bors de Ganis, for Sir Bors was over fourscore years of age when he died. For when the priest came thither one morning, he found Sir Bors sitting beside the tomb of Sir Launcelot, and Sir Bors had died at that time. And one of those seven candles (which same was the candle of Sir Bors) was not lit but was burned out. For so the life of Sir Bors had flickered out, even as the light of that candle had departed.
So with this endeth the history of the lives of those knights, and so I have told it to you.
THUS have I written the history of King Arthur and of sundry of those knights that comprised his Round Table. For so may you see with what patience, what labor and what self-devotion those knights served their king, their Round Table and their fellows.
For those knights were very gallant gentlemen who thought but little of care and trouble and who practised self-denial when that self-denial could be of avail to help their friends or to benefit the world.
For ever they brought aid to those who were in trouble and comfort to those who were afflicted ever they brought food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty; and ever they destroyed giants and monsters and wicked men, and so made the world a better and a comelier place in which to dwell. And wit ye that no man can do better than that in this world: to bring aid to the afflicted; food to the hungry, and a release from trouble to those who are in anxiety.
Yea; for seven years have I been engaged in writing these books, which contain the history of these things. Many other things have I done in that time. For I have painted many pictures besides having written these books and other works of a like sort. And these books are four in number: first, there is the Book of King Arthur; then there is the Book of the Champions of the Round Table; then there is the Book of Sir Launcelot and his companions, and now there is this Book of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur, and this book is the last. For those books comprise a history of all this time; for though there be many things left untold in them, yet those things are of small consequence. For all that is of greater note hath been here told, and that in full.
And I thank God that he hath permitted me to finish this work, for wit ye that when a man taketh seven years of his life to complete an undertaking, he knoweth not whether he shall live to complete that which he hath begun.
But so I have completed it, and for that I thank God who permitted me to complete it. Amen.
Finished at Wilmington, Delaware,
This 16th day of April
in the year of grace
MCMX.
The Shorter Fiction
Corner of Seventh and West Streets, Wilmington, Delaware — Pyle lived here during his time studying art under F. A. Van der Wielen in Philadelphia.
Pepper and Salt (1886)
This collection of eight short stories and numerous poems was first published in October 1885 by Harper and Brothers.
Pyle sets out his stall in the Preface to the book in which he writes;
“One must have a little pinch of seasoning in this dull, heavy life of ours; one should never look to have all the troubles, the labors and the cares, with never a whit of innocent jollity and mirth. Yes, one must smile now and then, if for nothing else than to lift the corners of the lips in laughter that are only too often dragged down in sorrow.”
This book is regarded by many readers as one of Pyle’s finest and the critics agreed:
“It is all beautiful, without and within. It contains eight charming stories, each of which is supplemented by three sets of verses and these rhymes are of the funniest kind — too funny for anything. Letting alone the stories, such verses as “Superficial Culture”, “The Story of a Blue China Plate” and “The Sad Story Concerning One Innocent Little Lamb and Four Wicked Wolves” will make melancholy itself laugh. And these verses are no better or funnier than many others in the volume. Then the unique and excellent illustrations, on almost every page, are as entertaining and amusing as the text. Though prepared for the young folks, this book will be immensely enjoyed by the older people too.”
The first edition
CONTENTS
PREFACE
THE SKILLFUL HUNTSMAN
TWO OPINIONS
YE SONG OF YE FOOLISH OLD WOMAN.
A NEWSPAPER PUFF
THREE FORTUNES
CLAUS AND HIS WONDERFUL STAFF
VENTURESOME BOLDNESS
SUPERFICIAL CULTURE
HOW DAME MARGERY TWIST SAW MORE THAN WAS GOOD FOR HER
YE SONG OF YE GOSSIPS
A VICTIM TO SCIENCE
PLAY & EARNEST
THE ACCIDENT OF BIRTH.
CLEVER PETER AND THE TWO BOTTLES
YE ROMANTIC ADVENTURES OF THREE TAILORS
FANCY AND FACT
YE TWO WISHES
A VERSE WITH A MORAL BUT NO NAME
HANS HECKLEMANN’S LUCK
YE SONG OF YE RAJAH & YE FLY
PRIDE IN DISTRESS
PROFESSION & PRACTICE
A TALE OF A TUB
FARMER GRIGGS’S BOGGART
YE STORY OF A BLUE CHINA PLATE.
MORAL BLINDNESS
OVERCONFIDENCE
THE FORCE OF NEED
THE BIRD IN THE LINDEN TREE
A DISAPPOINTMENT
YE SAD STORY CONCERNING ON INNOCENT LITTLE LAMB AND FOUR WICKED WOLVES
THE APPLE OF CONTENTMENT
The first edition’s title page
The original frontispiece
PREFACE
Here, my little man, you may hold my cap and bells, — and you, over there, may hold the bauble! Now, then, I am ready to talk as a wise man should and am a giddy-pated jester no longer!
This is what I have to say:
One must have a little pinch of seasoning in this dull, heavy life of ours; one should never look to have all the troubles, the labors, and the cares, with never a whit of innocent jollity and mirth. Yes, one must smile now and then, if for nothing else than to lift the corners of the lips in laughter that are only too often dragged down in sorrow.