Chapter XI: Book VII: Of the Death of Arthur20 (2)

"Leave this mourning and weeping," said the king, "for all this will not avail me: for, wit thou well, and I might live myself the death of Sir Lucan would grieve me evermore; but my time hieth fast," said the king. "Therefore," said King Arthur, "take thou Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder water side, and when thou comest there, I charge thee throw my sword in that water, and come again, and tell me what thou shalt see there."

"My lord," said Sir Bedivere, "your command shall be done, and lightly bring you word again."

And so Sir Bedivere departed; and by the way he beheld that noble sword where the pommel and the haft were all of precious stones, and then he said to himself, "If I throw this rich sword into the water, thereof shall never come good, but harm and loss."

And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree, and as soon as he might he came again unto King Arthur, and said he had been at the water, and had thrown the sword into the water.

"What sawest thou there?" said the king.

"Sir," said he, "I saw nothing but waves and wind."

"That is untruly said of thee," said King Arthur, "therefore go thou lightly and do my command, as thou art to me lief [_beloved_] and dear; spare not, but throw it in."

Then Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his hand; and then him thought it sin and shame to throw away that noble sword. And so he hid the sword, and returned again and told to the king that he had been at the water and done his command.

"What saw ye there?" said the king.

"Sir," said he, "I saw nothing but the water wap and waves wane."[21]

[Footnote 21: "Water wap and waves wane," _water lap and waves ebb_.]

"Ah, traitor untrue!" said King Arthur, "now hast thou betrayed me two times. Who would have wend that thou that hast been unto me so self [_loved like myself_] and dear, and thou art named a noble knight, and wouldest betray me for the rich sword? But now go again lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold; and but if thou do as I command thee, and if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with my own hands, for thou wouldst for my rich sword see me dead."

Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it up, and went to the water's side; and there he bound the girdle about the hilts, and then he threw the sword into the water as far as he might; and there came an arm and an hand above the water, and met it and caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished.

And then the hand vanished away with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedivere came again to the king, and told him what he had seen.

"Alas!" said the king, "help me from hence, for I dread me I have tarried over long."

Then Sir Bedivere took King Arthur upon his back, and so went with him to the water's side. And when they were at the water's side, even fast by the bank hoved a little barge, with many fair ladies in it, and among them all was a queen, and all they had black hoods, and they wept and shrieked when they saw King Arthur.

"Now put me into the barge," said the king; and so he did softly; and there received him three queens with great mourning, and so these three queens [whereof one was King Arthur's sister Morgan le Fay, the other was the queen of Northgalis, and the third was the queen of the waste lands] set them down, and in one of their laps King Arthur laid his head. And then that queen said, "Ah! dear brother, why have ye tarried so long from me? Alas! this wound on your head hath taken overmuch cold."

And so then they rowed from the land, and Sir Bedivere beheld all those ladies go from him; then Sir Bedivere cried, "Ah! my lord Arthur, what shall become of me now ye go from me, and leave me here alone among mine enemies?"

"Comfort thyself," said King Arthur, "and do as well as thou mayest, for in me is no trust for to trust in; for I will into the vale of Avalon for to heal me of my grievous wound; and if thou never hear more of me, pray for my soul."

But evermore the queens and the ladies wept and shrieked that it was pity for to hear them. And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost the sight of the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the forest; and so he went all the night, and in the morning he was ware between two hills of a chapel and an hermitage.

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Then was Sir Bedivere glad, and thither he went; and when he came into the chapel, he saw where lay an hermit grovelling upon all four there fast by a tomb newly graven. When the hermit saw Sir Bedivere, he knew him well, for he was, but a little before, [the] bishop of Canterbury that Sir Mordred banished away.

"Sir," said Sir Bedivere, "what man is there that ye pray so fast for?"

"Fair son," said the hermit, "I wot not verily, but by deeming, but this night, at midnight, here came a great number of ladies, and brought hither a dead corpse, and prayed me to bury him; and here they offered an hundred tapers and gave me an hundred besants."

"Alas," said Sir Bedivere, "that was my lord King Arthur, that here lieth buried in this chapel!"

Then Sir Bedivere swooned, and when he awoke he prayed the hermit he might abide with him still there, to live with fasting and prayers. "For from hence will I never go," said Sir Bedivere, "by my will, but all the days of my life here to pray for my lord Arthur."

"Ye are welcome to me," said the hermit, "for I know you better than ye ween that I do. Ye are the bold Bedivere, and the full noble duke Sir Lucan the Butler was your brother."

Then Sir Bedivere told the hermit all as ye have heard before. So there bode Sir Bedivere with the hermit, and there Sir Bedivere put upon him poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in fasting and in prayers. And when the Queen Guenever understood that King Arthur was slain, and all the noble knights, Sir Mordred and all the remnant, then the queen stole away, and five ladies with her, and so she went to Almesbury, and there she let make herself a nun and wore white clothes and black. And great penance she took as ever did sinful lady in this land; and never creature could make her merry, but lived in fastings, prayers, and alms deeds, that all manner of people marvelled how virtuously she was changed. Now leave we Queen Guenever in Almsbury, that was a nun in white clothes and black; and there she was abbess and ruler, as reason would. And turn we from her, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du Lake.

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And when he heard in his country that Sir Mordred was crowned king in England, and made war against King Arthur, and would not let him to land in his own land; also it was told Sir Launcelot how that Sir Mordred had laid siege about the Tower of London, because the queen would not wed him; then was Sir Launcelot wondrous wroth.

Then they made them ready in all the haste that might be, with ships and galleys, with Sir Launcelot and his host for to pass into England. And so he passed over the sea, and arrived at Dover, and there he landed with seven kings, and their number was hideous to behold. Then Sir Launcelot inquired of the men of Dover where King Arthur was become.

Then the people told him how that he was slain, with Sir Mordred, and an hundred thousand died upon a day, and how Sir Mordred gave King Arthur there the first battle at his landing, and there was the good knight Sir Gawaine slain; and on the morrow Sir Mordred fought with King Arthur upon Barendoune, and there King Arthur put Sir Mordred to the worst.

"Alas!" said Sir Launcelot, "this is the heaviest tidings that ever came to me. Now fair sirs," said Sir Launcelot, "I beseech you show me the tomb of Sir Gawaine."

And then certain people of the town brought him to the castle of Dover, and showed him the tomb of Sir Gawaine. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled down, and wept, and prayed full heartily for his soul. And that night he made a dole, and all they that would come had as much flesh and fish, wine and ale, as they might eat and drink, and every man and woman had twelve pence, come who would.

Then on the third day Sir Launcelot called to the kings, dukes, earls, and barons, and said thus: "My fair lords, I thank you all of your coming into this country with me. But we come too late, and that shall repent me while I live. But sithen it is so, I will myself ride and seek my lady Queen Guenever, for as I hear say she hath great pain and much disease, and I heard say that she is fled into the west country, therefore ye all abide me here, and but if I come within fifteen days, then take your ships and your fellowship, and depart into your country."

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Then came Sir Bors de Ganis, and said, "My lord Sir Launcelot, what think ye for to do, now to ride in this realm? wit thou well, ye shall find few friends."

"Be as be may," said Sir Launcelot, "keep you still here, for I will forth on my journey, and no man nor child shall go with me."

So it was no boot to strive, but he departed and rode westerly, and there he sought a seven or eight days, and at the last he came unto a nunnery. And then was Queen Guenever ware of Sir Launcelot as she walked in the cloister; and when she saw him there, she swooned three times, that all the ladies and gentlewomen had work enough for to hold the queen up. So when she might speak, she called ladies and gentlewomen unto her, and said, "Ye marvel, fair ladies, why I make this cheer. Truly," said she, "it is for the sight of yonder knight which yonder standeth; wherefore I pray you all to call him unto me." And when Sir Launcelot was brought unto her, then she said: "Sir Launcelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love that ever was between us two, that thou never look me more in the visage. And furthermore I command thee on God's behalf right straitly, that thou forsake my company, and that unto thy kingdom shortly thou return again, and keep well thy realm from war and wreck. For as well as I have loved thee, Sir Launcelot, now mine heart will not once serve me to see thee. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, go thou unto thy realm, and there take thee a wife, and live with her in joy and bliss. And I beseech you heartily, pray for me unto our Lord God, that I may amend my misliving."

"Now, sweet madam," said Sir Launcelot, "would ye that I should now return again into my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you well that shall I never do: but the same destiny that ye have taken you to, I will take me unto, for to please Jesu, and ever for you I cast me specially to pray. And if I had found you now so disposed, I had cast me to have had you into mine own realm."

[Then] there was lamentation as they had been stung by spears, and the ladies bare the queen to her chamber.

And Sir Launcelot took his horse and rode all that day and all that night in a forest, weeping. And at last he was ware of a hermitage and a chapel between two cliffs, and then he heard a little bell ring to mass.

[And it was here that the bishop and Sir Bedivere had served God together; and they knew Sir Launcelot, and told him all, and his heart was nearly brast for sorrow. And Sir Launcelot threw abroad his armor, and was shriven, and took the habit upon him, and abode at that chapel.

And there came Sir Bors, who had gone forth for to seek Sir Launcelot. And Sir Bors took the habit upon him. And within half a year there was also come] Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Villiers, Sir Clarrus, and Sir Gahalantine. So these seven knights abode there still. And when they saw that Sir Launcelot had taken him unto such perfection they had not list [_desire_] to depart, but took such an habit as he had, and their horses went where they would.

Thus they endured in great penance six years, and then Sir Launcelot took the habit of priesthood, and twelve months he sung the mass. [And he used] such abstinence that he waxed full lean. And thus upon a night there came a vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged him, in remission of his sins, to haste him unto Almesbury, "And by then thou come there, thou shalt find Queen Guenever dead: and therefore take thy fellows with thee, and purvey them of an horse-bier, and fetch thou the corpse of her, and bury her by her husband the noble King Arthur." So this vision came to Launcelot thrice in one night.

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Then Sir Launcelot rose up or day, and told the hermit.

"It were well done," said the hermit, "that ye made you ready, and that you disobey not the vision."

Then Sir Launcelot took his seven fellows with him, and on foot they went from Glastonbury to Almesbury, the which is little more than thirty miles. And thither they came within two days, for they were weak and feeble to go. And when Sir Launcelot was come to Almesbury, within the nunnery, Queen Guenever died but half an hour before.

Then Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed; and so he did all the observance of the mass himself, both the dirige [_dirge_] at night and the mass on the morrow.

[And so with many holy rites, Queen Guenever was wrapped thirty-fold in cloth of Rheims, and put in a web of lead, and after in a coffin of marble. And when she was put in the earth Sir Launcelot swooned.]

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Then Sir Launcelot never after eat but little meat, nor drank, till he was dead; for then he sickened more and more, and dried and dwined [_dwindled_] away; for the bishop nor none of his fellows might not make him to eat, and little he drank; for evermore day and night he prayed, but sometime he slumbered a broken sleep, and ever he was lying grovelling on the tomb of King Arthur and Queen Guenever. And there was no comfort that the bishop, nor Sir Bors, nor none of his fellows could make him, it availed nothing.

Oh, ye mighty and pompous lords, shining in the glory transitory of this unstable life, as in reigning over great realms and mighty great countries, fortified with strong castles and towers, edified with many a rich city; ye also, ye fierce and mighty knights, so valiant in adventurous deeds of arms; behold, behold, see how this mighty conqueror King Arthur, whom in his human life all the world doubted [_praised_], see also the noble Queen Guenever, which sometime sat in her chair adorned with gold, pearls, and precious stones, now lie full low in obscure fosse or pit, covered with clods of earth and clay; behold also this mighty champion Sir Launcelot, peerless of all knighthood, see now how he lieth grovelling upon the cold mould, now being so feeble and faint that sometime was so terrible. How and in what manner ought ye to be so desirous of worldly honor so dangerous! Therefore me thinketh this present book is right necessary often to be read, for in it shall ye find the most gracious, knightly, and virtuous war of the most noble knights of the world, whereby they gat praising continually. Also me seemeth, by the oft reading thereof, ye shall greatly desire to accustom yourself in following of those gracious knightly deeds, that is to say, to dread God, and to love righteousness, faithfully and courageously to serve your sovereign prince; and the more that God hath given you the triumphal honor, the meeker ye ought to be, ever fearing the unstableness of this deceitful world. And so I pass over and turn again unto my matter.

So within six weeks after Sir Launcelot fell sick, and lay in his bed; and then he sent for the bishop that there was hermit, and all his true fellows. Then Sir Launcelot said with dreary steeven [_voice_], "Sir bishop, I pray you give to me all my rights that longeth to a Christian man."

"It shall not need you," said the hermit and all his fellows, "it is but heaviness of your blood: ye shall be well amended by the grace of God to-morn."

"My fair lords," said Sir Launcelot, "wit you well, my careful body will into the earth. I have warning more than now I will say, therefore give me my rights."

So when he had all that a Christian man ought to have, he prayed the bishop that his fellows might bear his body unto Joyous Gard.

"Howbeit," said Sir Launcelot, "me repenteth sore, but I made mine avow sometime that in Joyous Gard I would be buried, and because of breaking of mine avow, I pray you all lead me thither."

Then there was weeping and wringing of hands among all his fellows. So at the season of night they went all to their beds, for they lay all in one chamber. So after midnight against day, the bishop that was hermit, as he lay in his bed asleep, he fell on a great laughter; and therewith the fellowship awoke, and came unto the bishop, and asked him what he ailed.

"Ah, Jesu, mercy," said the bishop, "why did you awake me? I was never in all my life so merry and well at ease."

"Why, wherefore?" said Sir Bors.

"Truly," said the bishop, "here was Sir Launcelot with me, with more angels than ever I saw men upon one day; and I saw the angels heave up Sir Launcelot towards heaven; and the gates of heaven opened against him."

"It is but dretching [_fantasy_] of swevens [_dreams_]," said Sir Bors; "for I doubt not Sir Launcelot aileth nothing but good."

"It may well be," said the bishop. "Go to his bed, and then shall ye prove the sooth."

So when Sir Bors and his fellows came to his bed, they found him stark dead, and he lay as he had smiled, and the sweetest savor about him that ever they smelled. Then was there weeping and wringing of hands, and the greatest dole they made that ever made men. And on the morrow the bishop sung his mass of requiem; and after the bishop and all those nine knights put Sir Launcelot in the same horse-bier that Queen Guenever was laid in before that she was buried.

And so the bishop and they all together went with the corpse of Sir Launcelot daily till they came unto Joyous Gard, and ever they had an hundred torches burning about him.

And so within fifteen days they came to Joyous Gard; and there they laid his corpse in the body of the choir, and sung and read many psalters and prayers over him and about him; and ever his visage was laid open and naked, that all folk might behold him, for such was the custom in those days that all men of worship should so lie with open visage till that they were buried. And right thus as they were at their service, there came Sir Ector de Maris, that had sought seven year all England, Scotland, and Wales, seeking his brother Sir Launcelot.

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And when Sir Ector de Maris heard such noise and light in the choir of Joyous Gard, he alighted, and put his horse away from him, and came into the choir; and there he saw men sing and weep. And all they knew Sir Ector, but he knew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and told him how there lay his brother Sir Launcelot dead. And then Sir Ector threw his shield, sword, and helm from him; and when he beheld Sir Launcelot's visage he fell down in a swoon. And when he awaked it were hard any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his brother.

"Ah, Sir Launcelot," he said, "thou were head of all Christian knights; and now I dare say," said Sir Ector, "that Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, thou were never matched of none earthly knight's hands; and thou were the courtliest knight that ever bare shield; and thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman; and thou were the kindest man that ever struck with sword; and thou were the goodliest person that ever came among press [_crowd_] of knights; and thou were the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies; and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest."

Then there was weeping and dolor out of measure.

Thus they kept Sir Launcelot's corpse above the ground fifteen days, and then they buried it with great devotion. And then at leisure they went all with the bishop of Canterbury to his hermitage, and there they were together more than a month. Then Sir Constantine, that was Sir Cador's son, of Cornwall, was chosen king of England; and he was a full noble knight, and worshipfully he ruled this realm. And then this King Constantine sent for the bishop of Canterbury, for he heard say where he was; and so he was restored unto his bishopric, and left that hermitage; and Sir Bedivere was there ever still hermit to his life's end. Then Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Gahalantine, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Villiers le Valiant, Sir Clarrus of Claremount, all these knights drew them to their countries, howbeit King Constantine would have had them with him, but they would not abide in this realm; and there they lived in their countries as holy men.

Here is the end of the whole book of King Arthur and of his noble knights of the Round Table, that when they were whole together there was ever an hundred and forty. Also, here is the end of the death of King Arthur. I pray you all, gentlemen and gentlewomen, that read this book of King Arthur and his knights from the beginning to the ending, pray for me while I am alive, that God send me good deliverance.

And when I am dead, I pray you all pray for my soul. For this book was finished the ninth year of the reign of King Edward the Fourth, by Sir Thomas Maleor [_Malory_] knight, as Jesu help me for his great might, as he is the servant of Jesu both day and night.