The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights, Knowles and Malory [bill gates books to read .TXT] 📗

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