Chapter VIII: Part 8

Then they rode three or four days and never met with adventure, and by hap they were lodged with a gentleman that was a rich man and well at ease. And as they sat at their supper, Balin heard one complain grievously by him in a chair. What is this noise? said Balin. Forsooth, said his host, I will tell you. I was but late at a justing, and there I justed with a knight that is brother unto king Pellam, and twice smote I him down; and then he promised to quit me on my best friend, and so he wounded my son, that cannot be whole till I have of that knight’s blood, and he rideth alway invisible, but I know not his name. Ah, said Balin, I know that knight, his name is Garlon, he hath slain two knights of mine in the same manner, therefore I had rather meet with that knight than all the gold in this realm, for the despite he hath done me. Well, said his host, I shall tell you, king Pellam of Listeneise hath made cry in all this country a great feast that shall be within these twenty days, and no knight may come there but if he bring his wife with him, or his love; and that knight, your enemy and mine, ye shall see that day. Then I promise you, said Balin, part of his blood to heal your son withal. We will be forward to-morrow, said his host. So on the morn they rode all three toward Pellam, and they had fifteen days’ journey or they came thither; and that same day began the great feast. And so they alight and stabled their horses, and went into the castle; but Balin’s host might not be let in because he had no lady. Then Balin was well received, and brought unto a chamber and unarmed him, and they brought him robes to his pleasure, and would have had Balin leave his sword behind him. Nay, said Balin, that do I not, for it is the custom of my country a knight alway to keep his weapon with him, and that custom will I keep, or else I will depart as I came. Then they gave him leave to wear his sword, and so he went unto the castle, and was set among knights of worship, and his lady afore him. Soon Balin asked a knight, Is there not a knight in this court whose name is Garlon? Yonder he goeth, said a knight, he with the black face; he is the marvellest knight that is now living, for he destroyeth many good knights, for he goeth invisible. Ah, well, said Balin, is that he? Then Balin advised him long:—If I slay him here I shall not escape, and if I leave him now peradventure I shall never meet with him again at such a good time, and much harm he will do and he live. Therewith this Garlon espied that this Balin beheld him, and then he came and smote Balin on the face with the back of his hand, and said, Knight, why beholdest thou me so? for shame, therefore, eat thy meat, and do that thou came for. Thou sayest sooth, said Balin, this is not the first despite that thou hast done me, and therefore I will do that I came for; and rose up fiercely, and clave his head to the shoulders. Give me the truncheon, said Balin to his lady, wherewith he slew your knight. Anon she gave it him, for alway she bare the truncheon with her; and therewith Balin smote him through the body, and said openly, With that truncheon thou hast slain a good knight, and now it sticketh in thy body. And then Balin called to him his host, saying, Now may ye fetch blood enough to heal your son withal.

CHAP. XV.

_How Balin fought with king Pellam, and how his sword brake, and how he
gat a spear wherewith he smote the dolorous stroke._

Anon all the knights arose from the table for to set on Balin. And king Pellam himself arose up fiercely, and said, Knight, hast thou slain my brother? thou shalt die therefore or thou depart. Well, said Balin, do it yourself. Yes, said king Pellam, there shall no man have ado with thee but myself, for the love of my brother. Then king Pellam caught in his hand a grim weapon and smote eagerly at Balin, but Balin put the sword betwixt his head and the stroke, and therewith his sword burst in sunder. And when Balin was weaponless he ran into a chamber for to seek some weapon, and so from chamber to chamber, and no weapon he could find, and alway king Pellam after him. And at the last he entered into a chamber that was marvellously well dight and richly, and a bed arrayed with cloth of gold, the richest that might be thought, and one lying therein, and thereby stood a table of clean gold, with four pillars of silver that bare up the table, and upon the table stood a marvellous spear, strangely wrought. And when Balin saw that spear he gat it in his hand, and turned him to king Pellam, and smote him passingly sore with that spear, that king Pellam fell down in a swoon, and therewith the castle roof and walls brake and fell to the earth, and Balin fell down so that he might not stir foot nor hand. And so the most part of the castle that was fallen down through that dolorous stroke lay upon Pellam and Balin three days.

CHAP. XVI.

_How Balin was delivered by Merlin, and saved a knight that would have
slain himself for love._

Then Merlin came thither and took up Balin, and gat him a good horse, for his was dead, and bade him ride out of that country. I would have my damsel, said Balin. Lo, said Merlin, where she lieth dead. And king Pellam lay so many years sore wounded, and might never be whole, till Galahad, the haut prince, healed him in the quest of the Sangreal; for in that place was part of the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, that Joseph of Arimathea brought into this land, and there himself lay in that rich bed. And that was the same spear that Longius smote our Lord to the heart; and king Pellam was nigh of Joseph’s kin, and that was the most worshipful man that lived in those days, and great pity it was of his hurt, for that stroke turned to great dole, trouble, and grief.

Then departed Balin from Merlin, and said, In this world we meet never no more. So he rode forth through the fair countries and cities, and found the people dead, slain on every side. And all that were alive cried, O Balin, thou hast caused great damage in these countries; for the dolorous stroke thou gavest unto king Pellam three countries are destroyed, and doubt not but the vengeance will fall on thee at the last. When Balin was past those countries he was passing glad. So he rode eight days or he met with adventure. And at the last he came into a fair forest in a valley, and was ware of a tower, and there beside he saw a great horse of war tied to a tree, and there beside sat a fair knight on the ground and made great mourning; and he was a likely man and a well made. Balin said, God save you, why be ye so heavy? tell me, and I will amend it and I may to my power. Sir knight, said he again, thou doest me great grief, for I was in merry thoughts, and now thou puttest me to more pain. Balin went a little from him, and looked on his horse; then heard Balin him say thus: Ah, fair lady, why have ye broken my promise, for thou promisedst me to meet me here by noon, and I may curse thee that ever ye gave me this sword, for with this sword I slay myself,—and pulled it out; and therewith Balin start unto him, and took him by the hand. Let go my hand, said the knight, or else I shall slay thee. That shall not need, said Balin, for I shall promise you my help to get you your lady, and ye will tell me where she is. What is your name? said the knight. My name is Balin le Savage. Ah, sir, I know you well enough; ye are the knight with the two swords, and the man of most prowess of your hands living. What is your name? said Balin. My name is Garnish of the Mount, a poor man’s son, but by my prowess and hardiness a duke hath made me knight, and gave me lands; his name is duke Hermel, and his daughter is she that I love, and she me as I deemed. How far is she hence? said Balin. But six mile, said the knight. Now ride we hence, said these two knights. So they rode more than a pace till they came to a fair castle, well walled and ditched. I will into the castle, said Balin, and look if she be there. So he went in, and searched from chamber to chamber, and found her bed, but she was not there; then Balin looked into a fair little garden, and under a laurel tree he saw her lie upon a quilt of green samite, and a knight with her, and under their heads grass and herbs. When Balin saw her with the foulest knight that ever he saw, and she a fair lady, then Balin went through all the chambers again, and told the knight how he found her, as she had slept fast, and so brought him in the place where she lay fast sleeping.

CHAP. XVII.

_How that knight slew his love and a knight with her, and after how he
slew himself with his own sword, and how Balin rode toward a castle
where he lost his life._

And when Garnish beheld her so lying, for pure sorrow his mouth and nose burst out on bleeding, and with his sword he smote off both their heads, and then he made sorrow out of measure and said, Oh Balin, much sorrow hast thou brought unto me, for hadst thou not shewn me that sight I should have passed my sorrow. Forsooth, said Balin, I did it to this intent that it should better thy courage, and that ye might see and know her falsehood, and to cause you to leave love of such a lady: truly I did none other but as I would ye did to me. Alas! said Garnish, now is my sorrow double that I may not endure: now have I slain that I most loved in all my life. And therewith suddenly he rove himself on his own sword unto the hilts. When Balin saw that, he dressed him thenceward, lest folks would say he had slain them, and so he rode forth, and within three days he came by a cross, and thereon were letters of gold written that said, It is not for any knight alone to ride toward this castle. Then saw he an old hoar gentleman coming toward him that said, Balin le Savage, thou passest thy bounds to come this way, therefore turn again and it will avail thee. And he vanished away anon; and so he heard an horn blow as it had been the death of a beast. That blast, said Balin, is blown for me, for I am the prize, yet am I not dead. Anon withal he saw an hundred ladies and many knights, that welcomed him with fair semblance, and made him passing good cheer unto his sight, and led him into the castle, and there was dancing and minstrelsy, and all manner of joy. Then the chief lady of the castle said, Knight with the two swords, ye must have ado with a knight hereby that keepeth an island, for there may no man pass this way but he must just or he pass. That is an unhappy custom, said Balin, that a knight may not pass this way but if he just. Ye shall not have ado but with one knight, said the lady. Well, said Balin, since I shall, thereto am I ready, but travelling men are oft weary, and their horses also; but though my horse be weary my heart is not weary. I would be fain there my death should be. Sir, said a knight to Balin, me thinketh your shield is not good, I will lend you a bigger: therefore I pray you: and so he took the shield that was unknown and left his own, and so rode unto the island, and put him and his horse in a great boat, and when he came on the other side he met with a damsel, and she said, O knight Balin, why have ye left your own shield? alas! ye have put your self in great danger, for by your shield ye should have been known: it is great pity of you as ever was of knight, for of thy prowess and hardiness thou hast no fellow living. Me repenteth, said Balin, that ever I came within this country, but I may not turn now again for shame, and what adventure shall fall to me, be it life or death, I will take the adventure that shall come to me. And then he looked on his armour, and understood he was well armed, and therewith blessed him, and mounted upon his horse.

CHAP. XVIII.

_How Balin met with his brother Balan, and how each of them slew other
unknown, till they were wounded to death._

Then afore him he saw come riding out of a castle a knight, and his horse trapped all red, and himself in the same colour. When this knight in the red beheld Balin, him thought it should be his brother Balin because of his two swords, but because he knew not his shield, he deemed it was not he. And so they aventred their spears, and came marvellously fast together, and they smote each other in the shields, but their spears and their course were so big that it bare down horse and man, that they lay both in a swoon. But Balin was bruised sore with the fall of his horse, for he was weary of travel. And Balan was the first that rose on foot and drew his sword, and went toward Balin, and he arose and went against him, but Balan smote Balin first, and he put up his shield, and smote him through the shield and cleft his helm. Then Balin smote him again with that unhappy sword, and well nigh had felled his brother Balan, and so they fought there together till their breaths failed. Then Balin looked up to the castle, and saw the towers stand full of ladies. So they went to battle again, and wounded each other dolefully, and then they breathed oft-times, and so went unto battle, that all the place there as they fought was blood red. And at that time there was none of them both but they had either smitten other seven great wounds, so that the least of them might have been the death of the mightiest giant in this world. Then they went to battle again so marvellously that doubt it was to hear of that battle for the great bloodshedding, and their hauberks unnailed, that naked they were on every side. At the last Balan, the younger brother, withdrew him a little and laid him down. Then said Balin le Savage, What knight art thou? for or now I found never no knight that matched me. My name is, said he, Balan, brother to the good knight Balin. Alas! said Balin, that ever I should see this day. And therewith he fell backward in a swoon. Then Balan went on all four feet and hands, and put off the helm of his brother, and might not know him by the visage it was so full hewen and bled; but when he awoke he said, O Balan, my brother, thou hast slain me and I thee, wherefore all the wide world shall speak of us both. Alas! said Balan, that ever I saw this day, that through mishap I might not know you, for I espied well your two swords, but because ye had another shield I deemed you had been another knight. Alas! said Balin, all that made an unhappy knight in the castle, for he caused me to leave mine own shield to our both’s destruction, and if I might live I would destroy that castle for ill customs. That were well done, said Balan, for I had never grace to depart from them since that I came hither, for here it happed me to slay a knight that kept this island, and since might I never depart, and no more should ye brother, and ye might have slain me as ye have, and escaped yourself with the life. Right so came the lady of the tower with four knights and six ladies and six yeomen unto them, and there she heard how they made their moan either to other, and said, We came both out of one womb, and so shall we lye both in one pit. So Balan prayed the lady of her gentleness, for his true service that she would bury them both in that same place there the battle was done. And she granted them with weeping it should be done richly in the best manner. Now will ye send for a priest, that we may receive our sacrament and receive the blessed body of our Lord Jesus Christ. Yea, said the lady, it shall be done. And so she sent for a priest and gave them their rites. Now, said Balin, when we are buried in one tomb, and the mention made over us how two brethren slew each other, there will never good knight nor good man see our tomb but they will pray for our souls. And so all the ladies and gentlewomen wept for pity. Then, anon Balan died, but Balin died not till the midnight after, and so were they buried both, and the lady let make a mention of Balan how he was there slain by his brother’s hands, but she knew not Balin’s name.

CHAP. XIX.

_How Merlin buried them both in one tomb, and of Balin’s sword._

In the morn came Merlin and let write Balin’s name upon the tomb, with letters of gold, That here lieth Balin le Savage, that was the knight with the two swords, and he that smote the dolorous stroke. Also Merlin let make there a bed, that there should never man lye therein but he went out of his wit, yet Launcelot de Lake fordid that bed through his nobleness. And anon after Balin was dead, Merlin took his sword and took off the pommel, and set on another pommel. So Merlin bad a knight that stood afore him to handle that sword, and he assayed, and he might not handle it. Then Merlin laughed. Why laugh ye? said the knight. This is the cause, said Merlin: there shall never man handle this sword but the best knight of the world, and that shall be Sir Launcelot, or else Galahad his son, and Launcelot with this sword shall slay the man that in the world he loved best, that shall be Sir Gawaine. All this he let write in the pommel of the sword. Then Merlin let make a bridge of iron and of steel into that island, and it was but half a foot broad, and there shall never man pass that bridge, nor have hardiness to go over, but if he were a passing good man and a good knight without treachery or villainy. Also the scabbard of Balin’s sword Merlin left it on this side the island that Galahad should find it. Also Merlin let make by his subtilty that Balin’s sword was put in a marble stone standing upright as great as a millstone, and the stone hoved always above the water, and did many years, and so by adventure it swam down the stream to the city of Camelot, that is in English Winchester. And that same day Galahad the haut prince came with king Arthur, and so Galahad brought with him the scabbard, and achieved the sword that was there in the marble stone hoving upon the water. And on Whitsunday he achieved the sword, as it is rehearsed in the book of the Sangreal. Soon after this was done Merlin came to king Arthur and told him of the dolorous stroke that Balin gave to king Pellam, and how Balin and Balan fought together the most marvellous battle that ever was heard of, and how they were buried both in one tomb. Alas! said king Arthur, this is the greatest pity that ever I heard tell of two knights, for in the world I know not such two knights. Thus endeth the tale of Balin and Balan, two brethren born in Northumberland, good knights.

Sequitur iii liber.

The Third Book.

CHAP. I.

_How king Arthur took a wife, and wedded Guenever daughter to
Leodegrance, king of the land of Cameliard, with whom he had the
Round Table._

In the beginning of Arthur, after he was chosen king by adventure and by grace,—for the most part of the barons knew not that he was Uther Pendragon’s son, but as Merlin made it openly known,—many kings and lords made great war against him for that cause; but well Arthur overcame them all; for the most part of the days of his life he was ruled much by the counsel of Merlin. So it fell on a time king Arthur said unto Merlin, My barons will let me have no rest, but needs I must take a wife, and I will none take but by thy counsel and by thine advice. It is well done, said Merlin, that ye take a wife, for a man of your bounty and nobleness should not be without a wife. Now is there any that ye love more than another? Yea, said king Arthur, I love Guenever, the daughter of king Leodegrance, of the land of Cameliard, which Leodegrance holdeth in his house the Table Round, that ye told he had of my father, Uther. And this damsel is the most valiant and fairest lady that I know living, or yet that ever I could find. Sir, said Merlin, as of her beauty and fairness she is one of the fairest on live. But and ye loved her not so well as ye do, I could find you a damsel of beauty and of goodness that should like you and please you, and your heart were not set; but there as a man’s heart is set, he will be loth to return. That is truth, said king Arthur. But Merlin warned the king covertly that Guenever was not wholesome for him to take to wife, for he warned him that Launcelot should love her, and she him again; and so he turned his tale to the adventures of the Sangreal. Then Merlin desired of the king to have men with him that should enquire of Guenever, and so the king granted him. And Merlin went forth to king Leodegrance of Cameliard, and told him of the desire of the king that he would have unto his wife Guenever his daughter. That is to me, said king Leodegrance, the best tidings that ever I heard, that so worthy a king of prowess and noblesse will wed my daughter. And as for my lands I will give him wist I it might please him, but he hath lands enough, him needeth none, but I shall send him a gift shall please him much more, for I shall give him the Table Round, the which Uther Pendragon gave me, and when it is full complete there is an hundred knights and fifty. And as for an hundred good knights I have myself, but I lack fifty, for so many have been slain in my days. And so king Leodegrance delivered his daughter Guenever unto Merlin, and the Table Round, with the hundred knights, and so they rode freshly, with great royalty, what by water and what by land, till that they came nigh unto London.

CHAP. II.

_How the knights of the Round Table were ordained, and their sieges
blessed by the bishop of Canterbury._

When king Arthur heard of the coming of Guenever and the hundred knights with the Table Round, then king Arthur made great joy for their coming, and that rich present, and said openly, This fair lady is passing welcome unto me, for I have loved her long, and therefore there is nothing so lief to me. And these knights with the Round Table please me more than right great riches. And in all haste the king let ordain for the marriage and the coronation in the most honourablest wise that could be devised. Now Merlin, said king Arthur, go thou and espy me in all this land fifty knights which be of most prowess and worship. Within short time Merlin had found such knights that should fulfil twenty and eight knights, but no more he could find. Then the bishop of Canterbury was fetched, and he blessed the sieges with great royalty and devotion, and there set the eight and twenty knights in their sieges. And when this was done Merlin said, Fair sirs, ye must all arise and come to king Arthur for to do him homage; he will have the better will to maintain you. And so they arose and did their homage. And when they were gone Merlin found in every siege letters of gold that told the knights’ names that had sitten therein. But two sieges were void. And so anon came young Gawaine, and asked the king a gift. Ask, said the king, and I shall grant it you. Sir, I ask that ye will make me knight that same day ye shall wed fair Guenever. I will do it with a good will, said king Arthur, and do unto you all the worship that I may, for I must by reason you are my nephew, my sister’s son.

CHAP. III.

_How a poor man riding upon a lean mare desired king Arthur to make his
son knight._

Forthwithal there came a poor man into the court, and brought with him a fair young man of eighteen year of age, riding upon a lean mare. And the poor man asked all men that he met, Where shall I find king Arthur? Yonder he is, said the knights, wilt thou anything with him? Yea, said the poor man, therefore I came hither. Anon as he came before the king, he saluted him and said: O king Arthur, the flower of all knights and kings, I beseech Jesu save thee: Sir, it was told me that at this time of your marriage ye would give any man the gift that he would ask out, except that were unreasonable. That is truth, said the king, such cries I let make, and that will I hold, so it impair not my realm nor mine estate. Ye say well and graciously, said the poor man: Sir, I ask nothing else but that ye will make my son here a knight. It is a great thing that thou askest of me: what is thy name? said the king to the poor man. Sir, my name is Aries the cowherd. Whether cometh this of thee or of thy son? said the king. Nay Sir, said Aries, this desire cometh of my son and not of me. For I shall tell you I have thirteen sons, and all they will fall to what labour I put them to, and will be right glad to do labour, but this child will do no labour for me, for anything that my wife or I may do, but always he will be shooting or casting darts, and glad for to see battles, and to behold knights; and always day and night he desireth of me to be made a knight. What is thy name? said the king unto the young man. Sir, my name is Tor. The king beheld him fast, and saw he was passingly well visaged and passingly well made of his years. Well, said king Arthur to Aries the cowherd, fetch all thy sons afore me that I may see them. And so the poor man did, and all were shapen much like the poor man: but Tor was not like none of them all in shape nor in countenance, for he was much more than any of them. Now, said king Arthur unto the cowherd, where is the sword that he shall be made knight withal? It is here, said Tor. Take it out of the sheath, said the king, and require me to make you a knight. Then Tor alight off his mare, and pulled out his sword, kneeling, and requiring the king that he would make him knight, and that he might be a knight of the Table Round. As for a knight I will make you; and therewith smote him in the neck with the sword, saying, Be ye a good knight, and so I pray to God so ye may be, and if ye be of prowess and of worthiness ye shall be a knight of the Table Round. Now Merlin, said Arthur, say whether this Tor shall be a good knight or no. Yea, sir, he ought to be a good knight, for he is come of as good a man as any is on live, and of king’s blood. How so, sir? said the king. I shall tell you, said Merlin: this poor man, Aries the cowherd, is not his father, he is nothing like to him, for king Pellinore is his father. I suppose nay, said the cowherd. Fetch thy wife afore me, said Merlin, and she shall not say nay. Anon, the wife was fetched, which was a fair house-wife, and there she answered Merlin full womanly. And there she told the king and Merlin that when she was a maid, and went to milk kine, There met with me a stern knight, and half by force he held me, and after that time was born my son Tor, and he took away from me my greyhound that I had that time with me, and said that he would keep the greyhound for my love. Ah, said the cowherd, I wend not this, but I may believe it well, for he had never no taches of me. Sir, said Tor to Merlin, dishonour not my mother. Sir, said Merlin, it is more for your worship than hurt, for your father is a good man and a king, and he may right well advance you and your mother, for ye were begotten or ever she was wedded. That is truth, said the wife. It is the less grief to me, said the cowherd.

CHAP. IV.

_How Sir Tor was known for son of king Pellinore, and how Gawaine was
made knight._

So on the morn king Pellinore came to the court of king Arthur, which had great joy of him, and told him of Tor, how he was his son, and how he had made him knight at the request of the cowherd. When king Pellinore beheld Tor he pleased him much. So the king made Gawaine knight, but Tor was the first he made at the feast. What is the cause, said king Arthur, that there be two places void in the sieges? Sir, said Merlin, there shall no man sit in those places but they that shall be of most worship. But in the Siege Perilous there shall no man sit therein but one, and if there be any so hardy to do it he shall be destroyed, and he that shall sit there shall have no fellow. And therewith Merlin took king Pellinore by the hand, and in the one hand next the two sieges and the Siege Perilous he said, in open audience, This is your place, and best ye are worthy to sit therein of any that is here. Thereat sat Sir Gawaine in great envy, and told Gaheris his brother, Yonder knight is put to great worship, the which grieveth me sore, for he slew our father king Lot, therefore I will slay him, said Gawaine, with a sword that was sent me that is passing trenchant. Ye shall not so, said Gaheris, at this time; for at this time I am but a squire, and when I am made knight I will be avenged on him; and therefore brother it is best ye suffer till another time, that we may have him out of the court, for and we did so we should trouble this high feast. I will well, said Gawaine, as ye will.

CHAP. V.

_How at the feast of the wedding of king Arthur to Guenever, a white
hart came into the hall, and thirty couple hounds, and how a brachet
pinched the hart, which was taken away._

Then was the high feast made ready, and the king was wedded at Camelot unto Dame Guenever in the church of Saint Stephen’s, with great solemnity. And as every man was set after his degree, Merlin went to all the knights of the Round Table, and bad them sit still, that none of them remove. For ye shall see a strange and a marvellous adventure. Right so as they sat there came running in a white hart into the hall, and a white brachet next him, and thirty couple of black running hounds came after with a great cry, and the hart went about the Table Round. As he went by other boards, the white brachet bit him by the haunch and pulled out a piece, where through the hart lept a great leap and overthrew a knight that sat at the board side, and therewith the knight arose and took up the brachet, and so went forth out of the hall, and took his horse and rode his way with the brachet. Right so anon came in a lady on a white palfrey, and cried aloud to king Arthur, Sir, suffer me not to have this despite, for the brachet was mine that the knight led away. I may not do therewith, said the king. With this there came a knight riding all armed on a great horse, and took the lady away with him with force, and ever she cried and made great dole. When she was gone the king was glad, for she made such a noise. Nay, said Merlin, ye may not leave these adventures so lightly, for these adventures must be brought again or else it would be disworship to you and to your feast. I will, said the king, that all be done by your advice. Then, said Merlin, let call Sir Gawaine, for he must bring again the white hart. Also, sir, ye must let call Sir Tor, for he must bring again the brachet and the knight, or else slay him. Also let call king Pellinore, for he must bring again the lady and the knight, or else slay him. And these three knights shall do marvellous adventures or they come again. Then were they called all three as it rehearseth afore, and every each of them took his charge, and armed them surely. But Sir Gawaine had the first request, and therefore we will begin at him.

CHAP. VI.

_How Sir Gawaine rode for to fetch again the hart, and how two brethren
fought each against other for the hart._

Sir Gawaine rode more than a pace, and Gaheris his brother rode with him instead of a squire, to do him service. So as they rode they saw two knights fight on horseback passing sore, so Sir Gawaine and his brother rode betwixt them, and asked them for what cause they fought so. The one knight answered and said: We fight for a simple matter, for we two be two brethren, born and begotten of one man and of one woman. Alas! said Sir Gawaine, why do ye so? Sir, said the elder, there came a white hart this way this day, and many hounds chased him, and a white brachet was alway next him, and we understood it was adventure made for the high feast of king Arthur, and therefore I would have gone after to have won me worship; and here my younger brother said he would go after the hart, for he was a better knight than I; and for this cause we fell at debate, and so we thought to prove which of us both was better knight. This is a simple cause, said Sir Gawaine; strange men ye should debate withal, and not brother with brother; therefore but if ye will do by my counsel I will have ado with you—that is, ye shall yield you unto me, and that ye go unto king Arthur and yield you unto his grace. Sir knight, said the two brethren, we are for-foughten, and much blood have we lost through our wilfulness, and therefore we would be loth to have ado with you. Then do as I will have you, said Sir Gawaine. We will agree to fulfil your will; but by whom shall we say that we be thither sent? Ye may say, by the knight that followeth the quest of the hart that was white. Now what is your name? said Sir Gawaine. Sorlouse of the Forest, said the elder. And my name is, said the younger, Brian of the Forest. And so they departed and went to the king’s court, and Sir Gawaine on his quest. And as Gawaine followed the hart by the cry of the hounds, even afore him there was a great river, and the hart swam over; and as Sir Gawaine would follow after there stood a knight over the other side, and said, Sir knight, come not over after this hart, but if thou wilt just with me. I will not fail as for that, said Sir Gawaine, to follow the quest that I am in, and so made his horse to swim over the water, and anon they gat their spears and ran together full hard, but Sir Gawaine smote him off his horse, and then he turned his horse and bad him yield him. Nay, said the knight, not so, though thou have the better of me on horseback: I pray thee, valiant knight, alight afoot, and match we together with swords. What is your name? said Sir Gawaine. Allardin of the Isles, said the other. Then either dressed their shields and smote together, but Sir Gawaine smote him so hard through the helm that it went to the brains, and the knight fell down dead. Ah! said Gaheris, that was a mighty stroke of a young knight.

CHAP. VII.

_How the hart was chased into a castle, and there slain, and how
Gawaine slew a lady._

Then Gawaine and Gaheris rode more than a pace after the white hart, and let slip at the hart three couple of greyhounds, and so they chased the hart into a castle, and in the chief place of the castle they slew the hart: Sir Gawaine and Gaheris followed after. Right so there came a knight out of a chamber with a sword drawn in his hand and slew two of the greyhounds, even in the sight of Sir Gawaine, and the remnant he chased them with his sword out of the castle. And when he came again, he said, O my white hart, me repenteth that thou art dead, for my sovereign lady gave thee to me, and evil have I kept thee, and thy death shall be dear bought and I live. And anon he went into his chamber and armed him, and came out fiercely, and there met he with Sir Gawaine. Why have ye slain my hounds, said Sir Gawaine, for they did but their kind, and lever I had ye had wroken your anger upon me than upon a dumb beast. Thou sayst truth, said the knight, I have avenged me on thy hounds, and so I will on thee or thou go. Then Sir Gawaine alight afoot, and dressed his shield, and they stroke together mightily, and clave their shields, and stoned their helms, and brake their hauberks that the blood ran down to their feet. At the last Sir Gawaine smote the knight so hard that he fell to the earth; and then he cried mercy and yielded him, and besought him as he was a knight and gentleman to save his life. Thou shalt die, said Sir Gawaine, for slaying of my hounds. I will make amends, said the knight, unto my power. Sir Gawaine would no mercy have, but unlaced his helm to have striken off his head; right so came his lady out of a chamber and fell over him, and so he smote off her head by misadventure. Alas! said Gaheris, that is foul and shamefully done; that shame shall never from you. Also, ye should give mercy unto them that ask mercy; for a knight without mercy is without worship. Sir Gawaine was so astonied at the death of this fair lady that he wist not what he did, and said unto the knight, Arise, I will give thee mercy. Nay, nay, said the knight, I care for no mercy now, for thou hast slain my love and my lady that I loved best of all earthly things. Me repenteth it, said Sir Gawaine, for I thought to strike unto thee. But now thou shalt go unto king Arthur, and tell him of thine adventures, and how thou art overcome by the knight that went in the quest of the white hart. I take no force, said the knight, whether I live or die. But so for dread of death he swore to go unto king Arthur: and he made him to bear one greyhound before him on his horse, and another behind him. What is your name, said Sir Gawaine, or we part? My name is, said the knight, Ablamor of the Marsh. So he departed toward Camelot.

CHAP. VIII.

_How four knights fought against Sir Gawaine and Gaheris, and how they
were overcome, and their lives saved at the request of four ladies._

And Sir Gawaine went into the castle, and made him ready to lie there all night, and would have unarmed him. What will ye do? said Gaheris, will ye unarm you in this country? ye may think ye have many enemies here. They had not sooner said that word but there came four knights well armed, and assailed Sir Gawaine hard, and said unto him, Thou new made knight, thou hast shamed thy knighthood, for a knight without mercy is dishonoured. Also thou hast slain a fair lady to thy great shame to the world’s end, and doubt thou not thou shalt have great need of mercy or thou depart from us. And therewith one of them smote Sir Gawaine a great stroke, that nigh he fell to the earth, and Gaheris smote him again sore, and so they were on the one side and on the other, that Sir Gawaine and Gaheris were in jeopardy of their lives; and one with a bow, an archer, smote Sir Gawaine through the arm that it grieved him wonderly sore. And as they should have been slain, there came four ladies and besought the knights of grace for Sir Gawaine. And goodly at the request of the ladies they gave Sir Gawaine and Gaheris their lives, and made them to yield them as prisoners. Then Gawaine and Gaheris made great dole. Alas! said Sir Gawaine, mine arm grieveth me sore, I am like to be maimed; and so made his complaint piteously. Early on the morrow there came to Sir Gawaine one of the four ladies that had heard all his complaint, and said, Sir knight, what cheer? Not good, said he. It is your own default, said the lady, for ye have done a passing foul deed in the slaying of the lady, the which will be great villainly unto you. But be ye not of king Arthur’s kin? said the lady. Yes, truly, said Sir Gawaine. What is your name? said the lady, ye must tell it me or ye pass. My name is Gawaine, the king Lot of Orkney’s son, and my mother is king Arthur’s sister. Ah, then are ye nephew unto king Arthur, said the lady, and I shall so speak for you that ye shall have conduct to go to king Arthur for his love. And so she departed and told the four knights how their prisoner was king Arthur’s nephew, and his name is Sir Gawaine, king Lot’s son of Orkney. And they gave him the hart’s head, because it was in his quest. Then anon they delivered Sir Gawaine under this promise, that he should bare the dead lady with him in this manner: the head of her was hanged about his neck, and the whole body of her lay before him on his horse mane. Right so rode he forth unto Camelot. And anon as he was come, Merlin desired of king Arthur that Sir Gawaine should be sworn to tell of all his adventures, and how he slew the lady, and how he would give no mercy unto the knight, where through the lady was slain. Then the king and the queen were greatly displeased with Sir Gawaine for the slaying of the lady. And there by ordinance of the queen there was set a quest of ladies on Sir Gawaine, and they judged him for ever while he lived to be with all ladies, and to fight for their quarrels; and that ever he should be courteous, and never to refuse mercy to him that asketh mercy. Thus was Gawaine sworn upon the four Evangelists that he should never be against lady nor gentlewoman, but if he fought for a lady and his adversary fought for another. And thus endeth the adventure of Sir Gawaine, that he did at the marriage of king Arthur. Amen.

CHAP. IX.

_How Sir Tor rode after the knight with the brachet, and of his
adventure by the way._

When Sir Tor was ready he mounted upon his horse’s back, and rode after the knight with the brachet. So as he rode he met with a dwarf suddenly that smote his horse on the head with a staff, that he went backward his spear’s length. Why dost thou so? said Sir Tor. For thou shalt not pass this way, but if thou just with yonder knights of the pavilions. Then was Sir Tor ware where two pavilions were, and great spears stood out, and two shields hung on trees by the pavilions. I may not tarry, said Sir Tor, for I am in a quest that I must needs follow. Thou shalt not pass, said the dwarf; and therewithal he blew his horn. Then there came one armed on horseback, and dressed his shield, and came fast toward Tor, and he dressed him against him, and so ran together that Sir Tor bare him from his horse. And anon the knight yielded him to his mercy: But, sir, I have a fellow in yonder pavilion that will have ado with you anon. He shall be welcome, said Sir Tor. Then was he ware of another knight coming with great force, and each of them dressed to other that marvel it was to see: but the knight smote Sir Tor a great stroke in the midst of the shield that his spear all to-shivered, and Sir Tor smote him through the shield so low that it went through the side of the knight, but the stroke slew him not. And therewith Sir Tor alight and smote him on the helm a great stroke, and therewith the knight yielded him, and besought him of mercy. I will well, said Sir Tor; but thou and thy fellow must go unto king Arthur, and yield you prisoners unto him. By whom shall we say are we thither sent? Ye shall say by the knight that went in the quest of the knight that went with the brachet. Now what be your two names? said Sir Tor. My name is, said the one, Sir Felot of Langduk. And my name is, said the other, Sir Petipase of Winchelsea. Now go ye forth, said Sir Tor, and God speed you and me. Then came the dwarf and said unto Sir Tor: I pray you give me a gift. I will well, said Sir Tor: ask. I ask no more, said the dwarf, but that ye will suffer me to do you service, for I will serve no more recreant knights. Take an horse, said Sir Tor, and ride on with me. I wot ye ride after the knight with the white brachet, and I shall bring you where he is, said the dwarf. And so they rode throughout a forest, and at the last they were ware of two pavilions even by a priory, with two shields, and the one shield was renewed with white, and the other shield was red.

CHAP. X.

_How Sir Tor found the brachet with a lady, and how a knight assailed
him for the said brachet._

Therewith Sir Tor alighted and gave the dwarf his glaive, and so came to the white pavilion, and saw three damsels lie in it on one pallet sleeping. And so he went to the other pavilion, and there he found a lady lying sleeping therein. But there was the white brachet, that bayed at her fast, and therewith the lady awoke and went out of the pavilion, and all her damsels. But anon as Sir Tor espied the white brachet he took her by force, and took her to the dwarf. What, will ye so, said the lady, take my brachet from me? Yea, said Sir Tor, this brachet have I sought from king Arthur’s court hither. Well, said the lady, knight, ye shall not go far with her but that ye shall be met, and grieved. I shall abide what adventure that cometh, by the grace of God, and so mounted upon his horse and passed on his way toward Camelot; but it was so near night he might not pass but little farther. Know ye any lodging? said Tor. I know none, said the dwarf, but here beside is an hermitage, and there ye must take lodging as ye find. And within awhile they came to the hermitage and took lodging; and was there grass, oats, and bread, for their horses; soon it was sped, and full hard was their supper; but there they rested them all the night till on the morn, and heard a mass devoutly, and took their leave of the hermit, and Sir Tor prayed the hermit to pray for him. He said he would, and betook him to God: and so he mounted on horseback, and rode towards Camelot a long while. With that they heard a knight call loud that came after them, and he said, Knight, abide and yield my brachet that thou tookest from my lady. Sir Tor returned again and beheld him how he was a seemly knight and well horsed, and well armed at all points; then Sir Tor dressed his shield, and took his spear in his hands, and the other came fiercely upon him and smote both horse and man to the earth. Anon they arose lightly and drew their swords as eagerly as lions, and put their shields afore them, and smote through the shields, and the cantels fell off of both parts. Also they hewed their helms, that the hot blood ran out, and the thick mails of their hauberks they carved and rove in sunder, that the hot blood ran to the earth, and both they had many wounds and were passing weary. But Sir Tor espied that the other knight fainted, and then he sued fast upon him, and doubled his strokes, and made him go to the earth on the one side. Then Sir Tor bad him yield him. That will I not, said Abelleus, while my life lasteth and the soul is within my body, unless that thou wilt give me the brachet. That will I not do, said Sir Tor, for it was my quest to bring again thy brachet, thee, or both.

CHAP. XI.

_How Sir Tor overcame the knight, and how he lost his head at the
request of a lady._