“Lady,” replied Sir Beaumains, “a knight is little worth who may not bear with a damsel; and so whatsoever ye said to me I took no heed, save only that at times when your scorn angered me, it made me all the stronger against those with whom I fought, and thus have ye furthered me in my battles. But whether I be born of gentle blood or no, I have done you gentle service, and peradventure will do better still, ere I depart from you.”
“Alas!” said she, weeping at his courtesy, “forgive me, fair Sir Beaumains, all that I have missaid and misdone against you.” “With all my heart,” said he; “and since you now speak fairly to me, I am passing glad of heart, and methinks I have the strength to overcome whatever knights I shall henceforth encounter.”
Then Sir Perseant prayed them to come to his pavilion, and set before them wines and spices, and made them great cheer. So they rested that night; and on the morrow, the damsel and Sir Beaumains rose, and heard mass. And when they had broken their fast, they took their leave of Sir Perseant. “Fair damsel,” said he “whither lead ye this knight?” “Sir,” answered she, “to the Castle Dangerous, where my sister is besieged by the Knight of the Redlands.” “I know him well,” said Sir Perseant, “for the most perilous knight alive—a man without mercy, and with the strength of seven men. God save thee, Sir Beaumains, from him! and enable thee to overcome him, for the Lady Lyones, whom he besiegeth, is as fair a lady as there liveth in this world.” “Thou sayest truth, sir,” said the damsel; “for I am her sister; and men call me Linet, or the Wild Maiden.” “Now, I would have thee know,” said Sir Perseant to Sir Beaumains, “that the Knight of the Redlands hath kept that siege more than two years, and prolongeth the time hoping that Sir Lancelot, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamoracke, may come and battle with him; for these three knights divide between them all knighthood; and thou if thou mayest match the Knight of the Redlands, shall well be called the fourth knight of the world.” “Sir,” said Sir Beaumains, “I would fain have that good fame; and truly, I am come of great and honourable lineage. And so that you and this fair damsel will conceal it, I will tell ye my descent.” And when they swore to keep it secret, he told them, “My name is Sir Gareth of Orkney, my father was King Lot, and my mother the Lady Belisent, King Arthur’s sister. Sir Gawain, Sir Agravain, and Sir Gaheris, are my brethren, and I am the youngest of them all. But, as yet King Arthur and the court know me not, who I am.” When he had thus told them, they both wondered greatly.
And the damsel Linet sent the dwarf forward to her sister, to tell her of their coming. Then did Dame Lyones inquire what manner of man the knight was who was coming to her rescue. And the dwarf told her of all Sir Beaumains’ deeds by the way: how he had overthrown Sir Key, and left him for dead; how he had battled with Sir Lancelot, and was knighted of him; how he had fought with, and slain, the thieves; how he had overcome the two knights who kept the river passage; how he had fought with, and slain, the Black Knight; and how he had overcome the Green Knight, the Red Knight, and last of all, the Blue Knight, Sir Perseant. Then was Dame Lyones passing glad, and sent the dwarf back to Sir Beaumains with great gifts, thanking him for his courtesy, in taking such a labour on him for her sake, and praying him to be of good heart and courage. And as the dwarf returned, he met the Knight of the Redlands, who asked him whence he came. “I came here with the sister of my lady of the castle,” said the dwarf, “who hath been now to King Arthur’s court and brought a knight with her to take her battle on him.” “Then is her travail lost,” replied the knight; “for, though she had brought Sir Lancelot, Sir Tristram, Sir Lamoracke, or Sir Gawain, I count myself their equal, and who besides shall be so called?” Then the dwarf told the knight what deeds Sir Beaumains had done; but he answered, “I care not for him, whosoever he be, for I shall shortly overcome him, and give him shameful death, as to so many others I have done.”
Then the damsel Linet and Sir Beaumains left Sir Perseant, and rode on through a forest to a large plain, where they saw many pavilions, and hard by, a castle passing fair.
But as they came near Sir Beaumains saw upon the branches of some trees which grew there, the dead bodies of forty knights hanging, with rich armour on them, their shields and swords about their necks, and golden spurs upon their heels. “What meaneth this?” said he, amazed. “Lose not thy courage, fair sir,” replied the damsel, “at this shameful sight, for all these knights came hither to rescue my sister; and when the Knight of the Redlands had overcome them, he put them to this piteous death, without mercy; and in such wise will he treat thee also unless thou bearest thee more valiantly than they.” “Truly he useth shameful customs,” said Sir Beaumains; “and it is a marvel that he hath endured so long.”
So they rode onward to the castle walls, and found them double-moated, and heard the sea waves dashing on one side the walls. Then said the damsel, “See you that ivory horn hanging upon the sycamore-tree? The Knight of the Redlands hath hung it there, that any knight may blow thereon, and then will he himself come out and fight with him. But I pray thee sound it not till high noontide, for now it is but daybreak, and till noon his strength increases to the might of seven men.” “Let that be as it may, fair damsel,” answered he, “for were he stronger knight than ever lived, I would not fail him. Either will I defeat him at his mightiest, or die knightly in the field.” With that he spurred his horse unto the sycamore, and blew the ivory horn so eagerly, that all the castle rang its echoes. Instantly, all the knights who were in the pavilions ran forth, and those within the castle looked out from the windows, or above the walls. And the Knight of the Redlands, arming himself quickly in blood-red armour, with spear, and shield, and horse’s trappings of like colour, rode forth into a little valley by the castle walls, so that all in the castle, and at the siege, might see the battle.
“Be of good cheer,” said the damsel Linet to Sir Beaumains, “for thy deadly enemy now cometh; and at yonder window is my lady and sister, Dame Lyones.” “In good sooth,” said Sir Beaumains, “she is the fairest lady I have ever seen, and I would wish no better quarrel than to fight for her.” With that, he looked up to the window, and saw the Lady Lyones, who waved her handkerchief to her sister and to him to cheer them. Then called the Knight of the Redlands to Sir Beaumains, “Leave now thy gazing, Sir knight, and turn to me, for I warn thee that lady is mine.” “She loveth none of thy fellowship,” he answered; “but know this, that I love her, and will rescue her from thee, or die.” “Say ye so!” said the Red Knight. “Take ye no warning from those knights that hang on yonder trees?” “For shame that thou so boastest!” said Sir Beaumains. “Be sure that sight hath raised a hatred for thee that will not lightly be put out, and given me not fear, but rage.” “Sir knight, defend thyself,” said the Knight of the Redlands, “for we will talk no longer.”
Then did they put their spears in rest, and came together at the fullest speed of their horses, and smote each other in the midst of their shields, so that their horses’ harness sundered by the shock, and they fell to the ground. And both lay there so long time, stunned, that many deemed their necks were broken. And all men said the strange knight was a strong man, and a noble jouster, for none had ever yet so matched the Knight of the Redlands. Then, in a while, they rose, and putting up their shields before them, drew their swords, and fought with fury, running at each other like wild beasts—now striking such buffets that both reeled backwards, now hewing at each other till they shore the harness off in pieces, and left their bodies naked and unarmed. And thus they fought till noon was past, when, for a time they rested to get breath, so sorely staggering and bleeding, that many who beheld them wept for pity. Then they renewed the battle—sometimes rushing so furiously together, that both fell to the ground, and anon changing swords in their confusion. Thus they endured, and lashed, and struggled, until eventide, and none who saw knew which was the likeliest to win; for though the Knight of the Redlands was a wily and subtle warrior, his subtlety made Sir Beaumains wilier and wiser too. So once again they rested for a little space, and took their helms off to find breath.
But when Sir Beaumains’ helm was off, he looked up to Dame Lyones, where she leaned, gazing and weeping, from her window. And when he saw the sweetness of her smiling, all his heart was light and joyful, and starting up, he bade the Knight of the Redlands make ready. Then did they lace their helms and fight together yet afresh, as though they had never fought before. And at the last, the Knight of the Redlands with a sudden stroke smote Sir Beaumains on the hand, so that his sword fell from it, and with a second stroke upon the helm he drove him to the earth. Then cried aloud the damsel Linet, “Alas! Sir Beaumains, see how my sister weepeth to behold thee fallen!” And when Sir Beaumains heard her words, he sprang upon his feet with strength, and leaping to his sword, he caught it; and with many heavy blows pressed so sorely on the Knight of the Redlands, that in the end he smote his sword from out his hand, and, with a mighty blow upon the head, hurled him upon the ground.
Then Sir Beaumains unlaced his helm, and would have straightway slain him, but the Knight of the Redlands yielded, and prayed for mercy. “I may not spare thee,” answered he, “because of the shameful death which thou hast given to so many noble knights.” “Yet hold thy hand, Sir knight,” said he, “and hear the cause. I loved once a fair damsel, whose brother was slain, as she told me, by a knight of Arthur’s court, either Sir Lancelot, or Sir Gawain; and she prayed me, as I truly loved her, and by the faith of my knighthood, to labour daily in deeds of arms, till I should meet with him; and to put all knights of the Round Table whom I should overcome to a villainous death. And this I swore to her.” Then prayed the earls, and knights, and barons, who stood round Sir Beaumains, to spare the Red Knight’s life. “Truly,” replied he, “I am loth to slay him, notwithstanding he hath done such shameful deeds. And inasmuch as what he did was done to please his lady and to gain her love, I blame him less, and for your sakes I will release him. But on this agreement only shall he hold his life—that straightway he depart into the castle, and yield him to the lady there, and make her such amends as she shall ask, for all the trespass he hath done upon her lands; and afterwards, that he shall go unto King Arthur’s court, and ask the pardon of Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain for all the evil he hath done against them.” “All this, Sir knight, I swear to do,” said the Knight of the Redlands; and therewith he did him homage and fealty.
Then came the damsel Linet to Sir Beaumains and the Knight of the Redlands, and disarmed them, and staunched their wounds. And when the Knight of the Redlands had made amends for all his trespasses, he departed for the court.
Then Sir Beaumains, being healed of his wounds, armed himself, and took his horse and spear and rode straight to the castle of Dame Lyones, for greatly he desired to see her. But when he came to the gate they closed it fast, and pulled the drawbridge up. And as he marvelled thereat, he saw the Lady Lyones standing at a window, who said, “Go thy way as yet, Sir Beaumains, for thou shalt not wholly have my love until thou be among the worthiest knights of all the world. Go, therefore, and labour yet in arms for twelve months more, and then return to me.” “Alas! fair lady,” said Sir Beaumains, “I have scarce deserved this of thee, for sure I am that I have bought thy love with all the best blood in my body.” “Be not aggrieved, fair knight,” said she, “for none of thy service is forgot or lost. Twelve months will soon be passed in noble deeds; and trust that to my death I shall love thee and not another.” With that she turned and left the window.
So Sir Beaumains rode away from the castle very sorrowrul at heart, and rode he knew not whither, and lay that night in a poor man’s cottage. On the morrow he went forward, and came at noon to a broad lake, and thereby he alighted, being very sad and weary, and rested his head upon his shield, and told his dwarf to keep watch while he slept.
Now, as soon as he had departed, the Lady Lyones repented, and greatly longed to see him back, and asked her sister many times of what lineage he was; but the damsel would not tell her, being bound by her oath to Sir Beaumains, and said his dwarf best knew, So she called Sir Gringamors, her brother, who dwelt with her, and prayed him to ride after Sir Beaumains till he found him sleeping, and then to take his dwarf away and bring him back to her. Anon Sir Gringamors departed, and rode till he came to Sir Beaumains, and found him as he lay sleeping by the water-side. Then stepping stealthily behind the dwarf he caught him in his arms and rode off in haste. And though the dwarf cried loudly to his lord for help, and woke Sir Beaumains, yet, though he rode full quickly after him, he could not overtake Sir Gringamors.
When Dame Lyones saw her brother come back, she was passing glad of heart, and forthwith asked the dwarf his master’s lineage. “He is a king’s son,” said the dwarf, “and his mother is King Arthur’s sister. His name is Sir Gareth of Orkney, and he is brother to the good knight, Sir Gawain. But I pray you suffer me to go back to my lord, for truly he will never leave this country till he have me again.” But when the Lady Lyones knew her deliverer was come of such a kingly stock, she longed more than ever to see him again.
Now as Sir Beaumains rode in vain to rescue his dwarf, he came to a fair green road and met a poor man of the country, and asked him had he seen a knight on a black horse, riding with a dwarf of a sad countenance behind him. “Yea,” said the man, “I met with such a knight an hour agone, and his name is Sir Gringamors. He liveth at a castle two miles from hence; but he is a perilous knight, and I counsel ye not to follow him save ye bear him goodwill.” Then Sir Beaumains followed the path which the poor man showed him, and came to the castle. And riding to the gate in great anger, he drew his sword, and cried aloud, “Sir Gringamors, thou traitor! deliver me my dwarf again, or by my knighthood it shall be ill for thee!” Then Sir Gringamors looked out of a window and said, “Sir Gareth of Orkney, leave thy boasting words, for thou wilt not get thy dwarf again.” But the Lady Lyones said to her brother, “Nay brother, but I will that he have his dwarf, for he hath done much for me, and delivered me from the Knight of the Redlands, and well do I love him above all other knights.” So Sir Gringamors went down to Sir Gareth and cried him mercy, and prayed him to alight and take good cheer.
Then he alighted, and his dwarf ran to him. And when he was in the hall came the Lady Lyones dressed royally like a princess. And Sir Gareth was right glad of heart when he saw her. Then she told him how she had made her brother take away his dwarf and bring him back to her. And then she promised him her love, and faithfully to cleave to him and none other all the days of her life. And so they plighted their troth to each other. Then Sir Gringamors prayed him to sojourn at the castle, which willingly he did. “For,” said he, “I have promised to quit the court for twelve months, though sure I am that in the meanwhile I shall be sought and found by my lord King Arthur and many others.” So he sojourned long at the castle.
Anon the knights, Sir Perseant, Sir Perimones, and Sir Pertolope, whom Sir Gareth had overthrown, went to King Arthur’s court with all the knights who did them service, and told the king they had been conquered by a knight of his named Beaumains. And as they yet were talking, it was told the king there came another great lord with five hundred knights, who, entering in, did homage, and declared himself to be the Knight of the Redlands. “But my true name,” said he, “is Ironside, and I am hither sent by one Sir Beaumains, who conquered me, and charged me to yield unto your grace.” “Thou art welcome,” said King Arthur, “for thou hast been long a foe to me and mine, and truly I am much beholden to the knight who sent thee. And now, Sir Ironside, if thou wilt amend thy life and hold of me, I will entreat thee as a friend, and make thee Knight of the Round Table; but thou mayst no more be a murderer of noble knights.” Then the Knight of the Redlands knelt to the king, and told him of his promise to Sir Beaumains to use never more such shameful customs; and how he had so done but at the prayer of a lady whom he loved. Then knelt he to Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain, and prayed their pardon for the hatred he had borne them.
But the king and all the court marvelled greatly who Sir Beaumains was. “For,” said the king, “he is a full noble knight.” Then said Sir Lancelot, “Truly he is come of honourable blood, else had I not given him the order of knighthood; but he charged me that I should conceal his secret.”
Now as they talked thus it was told King Arthur that his sister, the Queen of Orkney, was come to the court with a great retinue of knights and ladies. Then was there great rejoicing, and the king rose and saluted his sister. And her sons, Sir Gawain, Sir Agravain, and Sir Gaheris knelt before her and asked her blessing, for during fifteen years last past they had not seen her. Anon she said, “Where is my youngest son, Sir Gareth? for I know that he was here a twelvemonth with you, and that ye made a kitchen knave of him.” Then the king and all the knights knew that Sir Beaumains and Sir Gareth were the same. “Truly,” said the king, “I knew him not.” “Nor I,” said Sir Gawain and both his brothers. Then said the king, “God be thanked, fair sister, that he is proved as worshipful a knight as any now alive, and by the grace of Heaven he shall be found forthwith if he be anywhere within these seven realms.” Then said Sir Gawain and his brethren, “Lord, if ye will give us leave we will go seek him.” But Sir Lancelot said, “It were better that the king should send a messenger to Dame Lyones and pray her to come hither with all speed, and she will counsel where ye shall find him.” “It is well said,” replied the king; and sent a messenger quickly unto Dame Lyones.
When she heard the message she promised she would come forthwith, and told Sir Gareth what the messenger had said, and asked him what to do. “I pray you,” said he, “tell them not where I am, but when my lord King Arthur asketh for me, advise him thus—that he proclaim a tournament before this castle on Assumption Day, and that the knight who proveth best shall win yourself and all your lands.” So the Lady Lyones departed and came to King Arthur’s court, and there was right nobly welcomed. And when they asked her where Sir Gareth was, she said she could not tell. “But, lord,” said she, “with thy goodwill I will proclaim a tournament before my castle on the Feast of the Assumption, whereof the prize shall be myself and all my lands. Then if it be proclaimed that you, lord, and your knights will be there, I will find knights on my side to fight you and yours, and thus am I sure ye will hear tidings of Sir Gareth.” “Be it so done,” replied the king.
So Sir Gareth sent messengers privily to Sir Perseant and Sir Ironside, and charged them to be ready on the day appointed, with their companies of knights to aid him and his party against the king. And when they were arrived he said, “Now be ye well assured that we shall be matched with the best knights of the world, and therefore must we gather all the good knights we can find.”
So proclamation was made throughout all England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and Cornwall, and in the out isles and other countries, that at the Feast of the Assumption of our Lady, next coming, all knights who came to joust at Castle Perilous should make choice whether they would side with the king or with the castle. Then came many good knights on the side of the castle. Sir Epinogris, the son of the King of Northumberland, and Sir Palomedes the Saracen, and Sir Grummore Grummorsum, a good knight of Scotland, and Sir Brian des Iles, a noble knight, and Sir Carados of the Tower Dolorous, and Sir Tristram, who as yet was not a knight of the Round Table, and many others. But none among them knew Sir Gareth, for he took no more upon him than any mean person.
And on King Arthur’s side there came the King of Ireland and the King of Scotland, the noble prince Sir Galahaut, Sir Gawain and his brothers Sir Agravain and Sir Gaheris, Sir Ewaine, Sir Tor, Sir Perceval, and Sir Lamoracke, Sir Lancelot also and his kindred, Sir Lionel, Sir Ector, Sir Bors and Sir Bedivere, likewise Sir Key and the most part of the Table Round. The two queens also, Queen Guinevere and the Queen of Orkney, Sir Gareth’s mother, came with the king. So there was a great array both within and without the castle, with all manner of feasting and minstrelsy.
Now before the tournament began, Sir Gareth privily prayed Dame Lyones, Sir Gringamors, Sir Ironside, and Sir Perseant, that they would in nowise disclose his name, nor make more of him than of any common knight. Then said Dame Lyones, “Dear lord, I pray thee take this ring, which hath the power to change the wearer’s clothing into any colour he may will, and guardeth him from any loss of blood. But give it me again, I pray thee, when the tournament is done, for it greatly increaseth my beauty whensoever I wear it.” “Grammercy, mine own lady,” said Sir Gareth, “I wished for nothing better, for now I may be certainly disguised as long as I will.” Then Sir Gringamors gave Sir Gareth a bay courser that was a passing good horse, with sure armour, and a noble sword, won by his father from a heathen tyrant. And then every knight made him ready for the tournament.
So on the day of the Assumption, when mass and matins were said, the heralds blew their trumpets and sounded for the tourney. Anon came out the knights of the castle and the knights of King Arthur, and matched themselves together.
Then Sir Epinogris, son of the King of Northumberland, a knight of the castle, encountered Sir Ewaine, and both broke off their spears short to their hands. Then came Sir Palomedes from the castle, and met Sir Gawain, and they so hardly smote each other, that both knights and horses fell to the earth. Then Sir Tristram, from the castle, encountered with Sir Bedivere, and smote him to the earth, horse and man. Then the Knight of the Redlands and Sir Gareth met with Sir Bors and Sir Bleoberis; and the Knight of the Redlands and Sir Bors smote together so hard that their spears burst, and their horses fell grovelling to the ground. And Sir Bleoberis brake his spear upon Sir Gareth, but himself was hurled upon the ground. When Sir Galihodin saw that, he bade Sir Gareth keep him, but Sir Gareth lightly smote him to the earth. Then Sir Galihud got a spear to avenge his brother, but was served in like manner. And Sir Dinadam, and his brother La-cote-male-taile, and Sir Sagramour le Desirous, and Dodinas le Savage, he bore down all with one spear.
When King Anguish of Ireland saw this, he marvelled what that knight could be who seemed at one time green and at another blue; for so at every course he changed his colour that none might know him. Then he ran towards him and encountered him, and Sir Gareth smote the king from his horse, saddle and all. And in like manner he served the King of Scotland, and King Urience of Gore, and King Bagdemagus.
Then Sir Galahaut, the noble prince, cried out, “Knight of the many colours! thou hast jousted well; now make thee ready to joust with me.” When Sir Gareth heard him, he took a great spear and met him swiftly. And the prince’s spear broke off, but Sir Gareth smote him on the left side of the helm, so that he reeled here and there, and had fallen down had not his men recovered him. “By my faith,” said King Arthur, “that knight of the many colours is a good knight. I pray thee, Sir Lancelot du Lake, encounter with him.” “Lord,” said Sir Lancelot, “by thy leave I will forbear. I find it in my heart to spare him at this time, for he hath done enough work for one day; and when a good knight doth so well it is no knightly part to hinder him from this honour. And peradventure his quarrel is here to-day, and he may be the best beloved of the Lady Lyones of all that be here; for I see well he paineth and forceth himself to do great deeds. Therefore, as for me, this day he shall have the honour; for though I were able to put him from it, I would not.” “You speak well and truly,” said the king.
Then after the tilting, they drew swords, and there began a great tournament, and there Sir Lancelot did marvellous deeds of arms, for first he fought with both Sir Tristram and Sir Carados, albeit they were the most perilous in all the world. Then came Sir Gareth and put them asunder, but would not smite a stroke against Sir Lancelot, for by him he had been knighted. Anon Sir Gareth’s helm had need of mending, and he rode aside to see to it and to drink water, for he was sore athirst with all his mighty feats of strength. And while he drank, his dwarf said to him, “Give me your ring, lest ye lose it while ye drink.” So Sir Gareth took it off. And when he had finished drinking, he rode back eagerly to the field, and in his haste forgot to take the ring again. Then all the people saw that he wore yellow armour. And King Arthur told a herald, “Ride and espy the cognizance of that brave knight, for I have asked many who he is, and none can tell me.”
Then the herald rode near, and saw written round about his helmet in letters of gold, “Sir Gareth of Orkney.” And instantly the herald cried his name aloud, and all men pressed to see him.
But when he saw he was discovered, he pushed with haste through all the crowd, and cried to his dwarf, “Boy, thou hast beguiled me foully in keeping my ring; give it me again, that I may be hidden.” And as soon as he had put it on, his armour changed again, and no man knew where he had gone. Then he passed forth from the field; but Sir Gawain, his brother, rode after him.
And when Sir Gareth had ridden far into the forest, he took off his ring, and sent it back by the dwarf to the Lady Lyones, praying her to be true and faithful to him while he was away.
Then rode Sir Gareth long through the forest, till night fell, and coming to a castle he went up to the gate, and prayed the porter to let him in. But churlishly he answered “that he should not lodge there.” Then said Sir Gareth, “Tell thy lord and lady that I am a knight of King Arthur’s court, and for his sake I pray their shelter.” With that the porter went to the duchess who owned the castle. “Let him in straightway,” cried she; “for the king’s sake he shall not be harbourless!” and went down to receive him. When Sir Gareth saw her coming, he saluted her, and said, “Fair lady, I pray you give me shelter for this night, and if there be here any champion or giant with whom I must needs fight, spare me till to-morrow, when I and my horse shall have rested, for we are full weary.” “Sir knight,” she said, “thou speakest boldly; for the lord of this castle is a foe to King Arthur and his court, and if thou wilt rest here to-night thou must agree, that wheresoever thou mayest meet my lord, thou must yield to him as a prisoner.” “What is thy lord’s name, lady?” said Sir Gareth. “The Duke de la Rowse,” said she. “I will promise thee,” said he, “to yield to him, if he promise to do me no harm; but if he refuse, I will release myself with my sword and spear.”
“It is well,” said the duchess; and commanded the drawbridge to be let down. So he rode into the hall and alighted. And when he had taken off his armour, the duchess and her ladies made him passing good cheer. And after supper his bed was made in the hall, and there he rested that night. On the morrow he rose and heard mass, and having broken his fast, took his leave and departed.
And as he rode past a certain mountain there met him a knight named Sir Bendelaine, and cried unto him “Thou shalt not pass unless thou joust with me or be my prisoner!” “Then will we joust,” replied Sir Gareth. So they let their horses run at full speed, and Sir Gareth smote Sir Bendelaine through his body so sorely that he scarcely reached his castle ere he fell dead. And as Sir Gareth presently came by the castle, Sir Bendelaine’s knights and servants rode out to revenge their lord. And twenty of them fell on him at once, although his spear was broken. But drawing his sword he put his shield before him. And though they brake their spears upon him, one and all, and sorely pressed on him, yet ever he defended himself like a noble knight. Anon, finding they could not overcome him, they agreed to slay his horse; and having killed it with their spears, they set upon Sir Gareth as he fought on foot. But every one he struck he slew, and drave at them with fearful blows, till he had slain them all but four, who fled. Then taking the horse of one of those that lay there dead, he rode upon his way.
Anon he came to another castle and heard from within a sound as of many women moaning and weeping. Then said he to a page who stood without, “What noise is this I hear?” “Sir knight,” said he, “there be within thirty ladies, the widows of thirty knights who have been slain by the lord of this castle. He is called the Brown Knight without pity, and is the most perilous knight living, wherefore I warn thee to flee.” “That will I never do,” said Sir Gareth, “for I fear him not.” Then the page saw the Brown Knight coming and said to Gareth, “Lo! my lord is near.”
So both knights made them ready and galloped their horses towards each other, and the Brown Knight brake his spear upon Sir Gareth’s shield; but Sir Gareth smote him through the body so that he fell dead. At that he rode into the castle and told the ladies he had slain their foe. Then were they right glad of heart and made him all the cheer they could, and thanked him out of measure. But on the morrow as he went to mass he found the ladies weeping in the chapel upon divers tombs that were there. And he knew that in those tombs their husbands lay. Then he bade them be comforted, and with noble and high words he desired and prayed them all to be at Arthur’s court on the next Feast of Pentecost.
So he departed and rode past a mountain where was a goodly knight waiting, who said to him, “Abide, Sir knight, and joust with me!” “How are ye named?” said Sir Gareth. “I am the Duke de la Rowse,” answered he. “In good sooth,” then said Sir Gareth, “not long ago I lodged within your castle, and there promised I would yield to you whenever we might meet.” “Art thou that proud knight,” said the duke, “who was ready to fight with me? Guard thyself therefore and make ready.” So they ran together, and Sir Gareth smote the duke from his horse. Then they alighted and drew their swords, and fought full sorely for the space of an hour; and at the last Sir Gareth smote the duke to the earth and would have slain him, but he yielded. “Then must ye go,” said Sir Gareth, “to my lord King Arthur at the next Feast of Pentecost and say that I, Sir Gareth, sent ye.” “As ye will be it,” said the duke; and gave him up his shield for pledge.
And as Sir Gareth rode alone he saw an armed knight coming towards him. And putting the duke’s shield before him he rode fast to tilt with him; and so they ran together as it had been thunder, and brake their spears upon each other. Then fought they fiercely with their swords and lashed together with such mighty strokes that blood ran to the ground on every side. And after they had fought together for two hours and more, it chanced the damsel Linet passed that way; and when she saw them she cried out, “Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth, leave your fighting, for ye are brethren!” At that they threw away their shields and swords, and took each other in their arms and wept a great while ere they could speak. And each gave to the other the honour of the battle, and there was many a kind word between them. Then said Sir Gawain, “O my brother, for your sake have I had great sorrow and labour! But truly I would honour you though ye were not my brother, for ye have done great worship to King Arthur and his court, and sent more knights to him than any of the Table Round, except Sir Lancelot.”
Then the damsel Linet staunched their wounds, and their horses being weary she rode her palfrey to King Arthur and told him of this strange adventure. When she had told her tidings, the king himself mounted his horse and bade all come with him to meet them. So a great company of lords and ladies went forth to meet the brothers. And when King Arthur saw them he would have spoken hearty words, but for gladness he could not. And both Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth fell down at their uncle’s knees and did him homage, and there was passing great joy and gladness among them all.
Then said the king to the damsel Linet, “Why cometh not the Lady Lyones to visit her knight, Sir Gareth, who hath had such travail for her love?” “She knoweth not, my lord, that he is here,” replied the damsel, “for truly she desireth greatly to see him.” “Go ye and bring her hither,” said the king. So the damsel rode to tell her sister where Sir Gareth was, and when she heard it she rejoiced full heartily and came with all the speed she could. And when Sir Gareth saw her, there was great joy and comfort between them.
Then the king asked Sir Gareth whether he would have that lady for his wife? “My lord,” replied Sir Gareth, “know well that I love her above all ladies living.” “Now, fair lady,” said King Arthur, “what say ye?” “Most noble king,” she answered, “my lord, Sir Gareth, is my first love and shall be my last, and if I may not have him for my husband I will have none.” Then said the king to them, “Be well assured that for my crown I would not be the cause of parting your two hearts.”
Then was high preparation made for the marriage, for the king desired it should be at the Michaelmas next following, at Kinkenadon-by-the-Sea.
So Sir Gareth sent out messages to all the knights whom he had overcome in battle that they should be there upon his marriage-day.
Therefore, at the next Michaelmas, came a goodly company to Kinkenadon-by-the-Sea. And there did the Archbishop of Canterbury marry Sir Gareth and the Lady Lyones with all solemnity. And all the knights whom Sir Gareth had overcome were at the feast; and every manner of revels and games was held with music and minstrelsy. And there was a great jousting for three days. But because of his bride the king would not suffer Sir Gareth to joust. Then did King Arthur give great lands and fair, with store of gold, to Sir Gareth and his wife, that so they might live royally together to their lives’ end.
CHAPTER XI
The Adventures of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse
gain King Arthur held high festival at Caerleon, at Pentecost, and gathered round him all the fellowship of the Round Table, and so, according to his custom, sat and waited till some adventure should arise, or some knight return to court whose deeds and perils might be told.
Anon he saw Sir Lancelot and a crowd of knights coming through the doors and leading in their midst the mighty knight, Sir Tristram. As soon as King Arthur saw him, he rose up and went through half the hall, and held out both his hands and cried, “Right welcome to thee, good Sir Tristram, as welcome art thou as any knight that ever came before into this court. A long time have I wished for thee amongst my fellowship.” Then all the knights and barons rose up with one accord and came around, and cried out, “Welcome.” Queen Guinevere came also, and many ladies with her, and all with one voice said the same.
Then the king took Sir Tristram by the hand and led him to the Round Table and said, “Welcome again for one of the best and gentlest knights in all the world; a chief in war, a chief in peace, a chief in field and forest, a chief in the ladies’ chamber—right heartily welcome to this court, and mayest thou long abide in it.”
When he had so said he looked at every empty seat until he came to what had been Sir Marhaus’, and there he found written in gold letters, “This is the seat of the noble knight, Sir Tristram.” Whereat they made him, with great cheer and gladness, a Fellow of the Round Table.
Now the story of Sir Tristram was as follows:—
There was a king of Lyonesse, named Meliodas, married to the sister of King Mark of Cornwall, a right fair lady and a good. And so it happened that King Meliodas hunting in the woods was taken by enchantment and made prisoner in a castle. When his wife Elizabeth heard it she was nigh mad with grief, and ran into the forest to seek out her lord. But after many days of wandering and sorrow she found no trace of him, and laid her down in a deep valley and prayed to meet her death. And so indeed she did, but ere she died she gave birth in the midst of all her sorrow to a child, a boy, and called him with her latest breath Tristram; for she said, “His name shall show how sadly he hath come into this world.”
Therewith she gave up her ghost, and the gentlewoman who was with her took the child and wrapped it from the cold as well as she was able, and lay down with it in her arms beneath the shadow of a tree hard by, expecting death to come to her in turn.
But shortly after came a company of lords and barons seeking for the queen, and found the lady and the child and took them home. And on the next day came King Meliodas, whom Merlin had delivered, and when he heard of the queen’s death his sorrow was greater than tongue can tell. And anon he buried her solemnly and nobly, and called the child Tristram as she had desired.
Then for seven years King Meliodas mourned and took no comfort, and all that time young Tristram was well nourished; but in a while he wedded with the daughter of Howell, King of Brittany, who, that her own children might enjoy the kingdom, cast about in her mind how she might destroy Tristram. So on a certain day she put poison in a silver cup, where Tristram and her children were together playing, that when he was athirst he might drink of it and die. But so it happened that her own son saw the cup, and, thinking it must hold good drink, he climbed and took it, and drank deeply of it, and suddenly thereafter burst and fell down dead.
When the queen heard that, her grief was very great, but her anger and envy were fiercer than before, and soon again she put more poison in the cup. And by chance one day her husband finding it when thirsty, took it up and was about to drink therefrom, when, seeing him, she sprang up with a mighty cry and dashed it from his hands.
At that King Meliodas, wondering greatly, called to mind the sudden death of his young child, and taking her fiercely by the hand he cried:
“Traitress, tell me what drink is in this cup or I will slay thee in a moment;” and therewith pulling out his sword he swore by a great oath to slay her if she straightway told him not the truth.
“Ah, mercy, lord,” said she, and fell down at his feet; “mercy, and I will tell thee all.”
And then she told him of her plot to murder Tristram, that her own sons might enjoy the kingdom.
“The law shall judge thee,” said the king.
And so anon she was tried before the barons, and condemned to be burnt to death.
But when the fire was made, and she brought out, came Tristram kneeling at his father’s feet and besought of him a favour.
“Whatsoever thou desirest I will give thee,” said the king.
“Give me the life, then, of the queen, my stepmother,” said he.
“Thou doest wrong to ask it,” said Meliodas; “for she would have slain thee with her poisons if she could, and chiefly for thy sake she ought to die.”
“Sir,” said he, “as for that, I beseech thee of thy mercy to forgive it her, and for my part may God pardon her as I do; and so I pray thee grant me my boon, and for God’s sake hold thee to thy promise.”
“If it must be so,” said the king, “take thou her life, for to thee I give it, and go and do with her as thou wilt.”
Then went young Tristram to the fire and loosed the queen from all her bonds and delivered her from death.
And after a great while by his good means the king again forgave and lived in peace with her, though never more in the same lodgings.
Anon was Tristram sent abroad to France in care of one named Governale. And there for seven years he learned the language of the land, and all knightly exercises and gentle crafts, and especially was he foremost in music and in hunting, and was a harper beyond all others. And when at nineteen years of age he came back to his father, he was as lusty and strong of body and as noble of heart as ever man was seen.
Now shortly after his return it befell that King Anguish of Ireland sent to King Mark of Cornwall for the tribute due to Ireland, but which was now seven years behindhand. To whom King Mark sent answer, if he would have it he must send and fight for it, and they would find a champion to fight against it.
So King Anguish called for Sir Marhaus, his wife’s brother, a good knight of the Round Table, who lived then at his court, and sent him with a knightly retinue in six great ships to Cornwall. And, casting anchor by the castle of Tintagil, he sent up daily to King Mark for the tribute or the champion. But no knight there would venture to assail him, for his fame was very high in all the realm for strength and hardihood.
Then made King Mark a proclamation throughout Cornwall, that if any knight would fight Sir Marhaus he should stand at the king’s right hand for evermore, and have great honour and riches all the rest of his days. Anon this news came to the land of Lyonesse, and when young Tristram heard it he was angry and ashamed to think no knight of Cornwall durst assail the Irish champion. “Alas,” said he, “that I am not a knight, that I might match this Marhaus! I pray you give me leave, sir, to depart to King Mark’s court and beg of his grace to make me knight.”
“Be ruled by thy own courage,” said his father.
So Tristram rode away forthwith to Tintagil to King Mark, and went up boldly to him and said, “Sir, give me the order of knighthood and I will fight to the uttermost with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.”
“What are ye, and whence come ye?” said the king, seeing he was but a young man, though strong and well made both in body and limb.
“My name is Tristram,” said he, “and I was born in the country of Lyonesse.”
“But know ye,” said the king, “this Irish knight will fight with none who be not come of royal blood and near of kin to kings or queens, as he himself is, for his sister is the Queen of Ireland.”
Then said Tristram, “Let him know that I am come both on my father’s and my mother’s side of blood as good as his, for my father is King Meliodas and my mother was that Queen Elizabeth, thy sister, who died in the forest at my birth.”
When King Mark heard that he welcomed him with all his heart, and knighted him forthwith, and made him ready to go forth as soon as he would choose, and armed him royally in armour covered with gold and silver.
Then he sent Sir Marhaus word, “That a better man than he should fight with him, Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, son of King Meliodas and of King Mark’s own sister.” So the battle was ordained to be fought in an island near Sir Marhaus’ ships, and there Sir Tristram landed on the morrow, with Governale alone attending him for squire, and him he sent back to the land when he had made himself ready.
When Sir Marhaus and Sir Tristram were thus left alone, Sir Marhaus said, “Young knight Sir Tristram what doest thou here? I am full sorry for thy rashness, for ofttimes have I been assailed in vain, and by the best knights of the world. Be warned in time, return to them that sent thee.”
“Fair knight, and well-proved knight,” replied Sir Tristram, “be sure that I shall never quit this quarrel till one of us be overcome. For this cause have I been made knight, and thou shalt know before we part that though as yet unproved, I am a king’s son and first-born of a queen. Moreover I have promised to deliver Cornwall from this ancient burden, or to die. Also, thou shouldst have known, Sir Marhaus, that thy valour and thy might are but the better reasons why I should assail thee; for whether I win or lose I shall gain honour to have met so great a knight as thou art.”