Bab Bab 3 · OF SIR GARETH OF ORKNEY

When Arthur held his Round Table most fully, it fortuned that he

commanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be holden at a city

and a castle, the which in those days was called King-Kenadon, upon

the sands that marched [_bordered_] nigh Wales. So ever the king had a

custom that at the feast of Pentecost, in especial afore other feasts

in the year, he would not go that day to meat until he had heard or

seen of a great marvel. And for that custom all manner of strange

adventures came before Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts.

And so Sir Gawaine, a little tofore noon of the day of Pentecost,

espied at a window three men upon horseback and a dwarf on foot. And so

the three men alighted, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the

three men was higher than the other twain by a foot and a half. Then

Sir Gawaine went unto the king and said, "Sir, go to your meat, for

here at hand come strange adventures."

So Arthur went unto his meat with many other kings. And there were

all the knights of the Round Table, save those that were prisoners or

slain at a rencounter. Then at the high feast evermore they should

be fulfilled the whole number of an hundred and fifty, for then was

the Round Table fully accomplished. Right so came into the hall two

men well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders there leaned the

goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all saw, and he

was large and long, and broad in the shoulders, and well visaged, and

the fairest and the largest handed that ever man saw, but he fared as

though he might not go nor bear himself but if he leaned upon their

shoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him, there was made peace [_silence_]

and room, and right so they went with him unto the high dais, without

saying of any words. Then this big young man pulled him aback, and

easily stretched up straight, saying, "King Arthur, God you bless, and

all your fair fellowship, and in especial the fellowship of the Table

Round. And for this cause I am come hither, to pray you and require

you to give me three gifts, and they shall not be unreasonably asked,

but that ye may worshipfully and honorably grant them me, and to you

no great hurt nor loss. And as for the first gift I will ask now, and

the other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth wheresoever ye hold

your high feast."

"Now ask," said Arthur, "and ye shall have your asking."

"Now, sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give me

meat and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I

will ask mine other two gifts."

"My fair son," said Arthur, "ask better, I counsel thee, for this is

but a simple asking, for my heart giveth me to thee greatly that thou

art come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit faileth me but thou

shalt prove a man of right great worship."

"Sir," said he, "thereof be as it may, I have asked that I will ask."

"Well," said the king, "ye shall have meat and drink enough, I never

defended that none, neither my friend nor my foe. But what is thy name

I would wit?"

"I cannot tell you," said he.

"That is marvel," said the king, "that thou knowest not thy name, and

thou art the goodliest young man that ever I saw."

Then the king betook him to Sir Kay, the steward, and charged him that

he should give him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and

also that he had all manner of finding as though he were a lord's son.

"That shall little need," said Sir Kay, "to do such cost upon him;

for I dare undertake he is a villain born, and never will make man,

for and he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and

armor, but such as he is, so he asketh. And since he hath no name, I

shall give him a name: that shall be Beaumains, that is Fairhands, and

into the kitchen I shall bring him, and there he shall have fat browis

[_broth_] every day, that he shall be as fat by the twelvemonth's end

as a pork hog."

Right so the two men departed, and left him to Sir Kay, that scorned

him and mocked him.

* * * * *

Thereat was Sir Gawaine wroth, and in especial Sir Launcelot bade Sir

Kay leave his mocking, "for I dare lay my head he shall prove a man of

great worship."

"Let be," said Sir Kay, "it may not be, by no reason, for as he is, so

hath he asked."

"Beware," said Sir Launcelot; "so ye gave the good knight Brewnor, Sir

Dinadan's brother, a name, and ye called him La Cote Mal Taile, and

that turned you to anger afterward."

"As for that," said Sir Kay, "this shall never prove none such; for

Sir Brewnor desired ever worship, and this desireth bread and drink,

and broth; upon pain of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and,

howsoever it was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come

for his sustenance."

And so Sir Kay bade get him a place and sit down to meat, so Beaumains

went to the hall door, and set him down among boys and lads, and there

he eat sadly. And then Sir Launcelot after meat bade him come to his

chamber, and there he should have meat and drink enough. And so did

Sir Gawaine, but he refused them all; he would do none other but as

Sir Kay commanded him, for no proffer. But as touching Sir Gawaine, he

had reason to proffer him lodging, meat, and drink, for that proffer

came of his blood, for he was nearer kin to him than he wist. But that

Sir Launcelot did was of his great gentleness and courtesy. So thus he

was put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the boys of the kitchen

did. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and never displeased

man nor child, but always he was meek and mild. But ever when he saw

any jousting of knights, that would he see and he might. And ever

Sir Launcelot would give him gold to spend, and clothes, and so did

Sir Gawaine. And where were any masteries done thereat would he be,

and there might none cast the bar or stone to him by two yards. Then

would Sir Kay say, "How like you my boy of the kitchen?" So it passed

on till the feast of Pentecost, and at that time the king held it at

Caerleon, in the most royallest wise that might be, like as yearly

he did. But the king would eat no meat on the Whitsunday till he had

heard of some adventure. And then came there a squire to the king, and

said, "Sir, ye may go to your meat, for here cometh a damsel with some

strange adventure." Then was the king glad, and set him down. Right so

there came in a damsel, and saluted the king, and prayed him for succor.

"For whom?" said the king: "what is the adventure?"

"Sir," said she, "I have a lady of great worship and renown, and she is

besieged with a tyrant, so that she may not go out of her castle, and

because that here in your court are called the noblest knights of the

world, I come unto you and pray you for succor."

"What call ye your lady, and where dwelleth she, and who is he and what

is his name that hath besieged her?"

"Sir king," said she, "as for my lady's name, that shall not be known

for me as at this time; but I let you wit she is a lady of great

worship, and of great lands. And as for the tyrant that besiegeth her

and destroyeth her land, he is called the Red Knight of the Red Lawns."

"I know him not," said the king.

"Sir," said Sir Gawaine, "I know him well, for he is one of the

perilous knights of the world; men say that he hath seven men's

strength, and from him I escaped once full hard with my life."

"Fair damsel," said the king, "there be knights here that would do

their power to rescue your lady, but because ye will not tell her name

nor where she dwelleth, therefore none of my knights that be here now

shall go with you by my will."

"Then must I speak further," said the damsel.

* * * * *

Then with these words came before the king Beaumains, while the damsel

was there; and thus he said: "Sir king, God thank you, I have been this

twelve months in your kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and now

I will ask my two gifts that be behind."

"Ask upon my peril," said the king.

"Sir, these shall be my two gifts: first, that ye will grant me to have

this adventure of the damsel, for it belongeth to me."

"Thou shalt have it," said the king; "I grant it thee."

"Then, sir, this is now the other gift: that ye shall bid Sir Launcelot

du Lake to make me a knight, for of him I will be made knight, and else

of none; and when I am passed, I pray you let him ride after me, and

make me knight when I require him."

"All this shall be done," said the king.

"Fie on thee," said the damsel; "shall I have none but one that is your

kitchen page?"

Then was she wroth, and took her horse and departed. And with that

there came one to Beaumains, and told him that his horse and armor

was come for him, and there was a dwarf come with all things that him

needed in the richest manner. Thereat all the court had much marvel

from whence came all that gear. So when he was armed, there was none

but few so goodly a man as he was. And right so he came into the hall,

and took his leave of King Arthur and of Sir Gawaine, and of Sir

Launcelot, and prayed him that he would hie after him; and so departed

and rode after the damsel.

* * * * *

But there went many after to behold how well he was horsed and trapped

in cloth of gold, but he had neither shield nor spear. Then Sir Kay

said openly in the hall: "I will ride after my boy of the kitchen, for

to wit [_know_] whether he will know me for his better."

Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine said, "Yet abide at home."

So Sir Kay made him ready, and took his horse and his spear, and rode

after him. And right as Beaumains overtook the damsel, right so came

Sir Kay, and said, "Beaumains, what sir, know ye not me?"

Then he turned his horse, and knew it was Sir Kay, that had done him

all the despite as ye have heard afore.

"Yea," said Beaumains, "I know you for an ungentle knight of the court,

and therefore beware of me."

Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and ran straight upon him,

and Beaumains came as fast upon him with his sword in his hand; and so

he put away his spear with his sword, and with a foin [_feint_] thrust

him through the side, that Sir Kay fell down as he had been dead, and

he alighted down and took Sir Kay's shield and his spear, and started

upon his own horse, and rode his way. All that saw Sir Launcelot, and

so did the damsel. And then he bade his dwarf start upon Sir Kay's

horse, and so he did. By that Sir Launcelot was come. Then he proffered

Sir Launcelot to joust, and either made them ready, and came together

so fiercely that either bare down other to the earth, and sore were

they bruised. Then Sir Launcelot arose and helped him from his horse.

And then Beaumains threw his shield from him, and proffered to fight

with Sir Launcelot on foot, and so they rushed together like boars,

tracing, racing, and foining, to the mountenance [_amount_] of an hour,

and Sir Launcelot felt him so big that he marvelled of his strength,

for he fought more like a giant than a knight, and that his fighting

was durable and passing perilous. For Sir Launcelot had so much ado

with him that he dreaded himself to be shamed, and said, "Beaumains,

fight not so sore, your quarrel and mine is not so great but we may

leave off."

"Truly, that is truth," said Beaumains, "but it doth me good to feel

your might, and yet, my lord, I showed not the uttermost."

* * * * *

"Well," said Sir Launcelot, "for I promise you by the faith of my body

I had as much to do as I might to save myself from you unshamed, and

therefore have ye no doubt of none earthly knight."

"Hope ye so that I may any while stand a proved knight?" said Beaumains.

"Yea," said Launcelot, "do ye as ye have done, and I shall be your

warrant."

"Then, I pray you," said Beaumains, "give me the order of knighthood."

"Then must ye tell me your name," said Launcelot, "and of what kin ye

be born."

"Sir, so that ye will not discover me I shall," said Beaumains.

"Nay," said Sir Launcelot, "and that I promise you by the faith of my

body, until it be openly known."

"Then, Sir," he said, "my name is Gareth, and brother unto Sir Gawaine,

of father and mother."

"Ah! Sir," said Launcelot, "I am more gladder of you than I was, for

ever me thought ye should be of great blood, and that ye came not to

the court neither for meat nor for drink."

And then Sir Launcelot gave him the order of knighthood. And then Sir

Gareth prayed him for to depart, and let him go. So Sir Launcelot

departed from him and came to Sir Kay, and made him to be borne home

upon his shield, and so he was healed hard with the life, and all men

scorned Sir Kay, and in especial Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot said it

was not his part to rebuke [any] young man, for full little knew he of

what birth he is come, and for what cause he came to this court. And so

we leave off Sir Kay and turn we unto Beaumains. When he had overtaken

the damsel anon she said, "What dost thou here? thou stinkest all of

the kitchen, thy clothes be foul of the grease and tallow that thou

gainedst in King Arthur's kitchen; weenest thou," said she, "that I

allow thee for yonder knight that thou killedst? Nay truly, for thou

slewest him unhappily and cowardly, therefore return again, kitchen

page. I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee Beaumains. What art thou

but a turner of broaches and a washer of dishes!"

"Damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "say to me what ye list, I will not go

from you whatsoever ye say, for I have undertaken of King Arthur for to

achieve your adventure, and I shall finish it to the end, or I shall

die therefor."

"Fie on thee, kitchen knave. Wilt thou finish mine adventure? thou

shalt anon be met withal, that thou wouldest not, for all the broth

that ever thou suppest, once look him in the face."

"I shall assay," said Beaumains. So as they thus rode in the wood,

there came a man flying all that he might.

"Whither wilt thou?" said Beaumains.

"O lord," said he, "help me, for hereby in a slade are six thieves

which have taken my lord and bound him, and I am afraid lest they will

slay him."

"Bring me thither," said Sir Beaumains.

And so they rode together till they came there as the knight was bound;

and then he rode unto the thieves, and struck one at the first stroke

to death, and then another, and at the third stroke he slew the third

thief; and then the other three fled, and he rode after and overtook

them, and then those three thieves turned again and hard assailed Sir

Beaumains; but at the last he slew them; and then returned and unbound

the knight. And the knight thanked him, and prayed him to ride with him

to his castle there a little beside, and he should worshipfully reward

him for his good deeds.

"Sir," said Sir Beaumains, "I will no reward have; I was this day made

knight of the noble Sir Launcelot, and therefore I will have no reward,

but God reward me. And also I must follow this damsel."

And when he came nigh her, she bade him ride from her, "for thou

smellest all of the kitchen. Weenest thou that I have joy of thee? for

all this deed that thou hast done is but mishappened thee. But thou

shalt see a sight that shall make thee to turn again, and that lightly."

* * * * *

[Then all the next day] this Beaumains rode with that lady till

even-song time, and ever she chid him and would not rest. And then they

came to a black lawn, and there was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung

a black banner, and on the other side there hung a black shield, and by

it stood a black spear and a long, and a great black horse covered with

silk, and a black stone fast by it.

There sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was the

Knight of the Black Lawns. When the damsel saw the black knight, she

bade Sir Beaumains flee down the valley, for his horse was not saddled.

"I thank you," said Sir Beaumains, "for always ye will have me a

coward."

With that the black knight came to the damsel, and said, "Fair damsel,

have ye brought this knight from King Arthur's court to be your

champion?"

"Nay, fair knight," said she, "this is but a kitchen knave, that hath

been fed in King Arthur's kitchen for alms."

"Wherefore cometh he in such array?" said the knight: "it is great

shame that he beareth you company."

"Sir, I cannot be delivered of him," said the damsel, "for with me he

rideth maugre [_in spite of_] mine head; would to God ye would put him

from me, or else to slay him if ye may, for he is an unhappy knave, and

unhappy hath he done to-day through misadventure; for I saw him slay

two knights at the passage of the water, and other deeds he did before

right marvellous, and all through unhappiness."

"That marvelleth me," said the black knight, "that any man the which is

of worship will have to do with him."

"Sir, they know him not," said the damsel, "and because he rideth with

me they think he is some man of worship born."

"That may be," said the black knight, "howbeit, as ye say that he be

no man of worship, he is a full likely person, and full like to be a

strong man; but thus much shall I grant you," said the black knight,

"I shall put him down upon his feet, and his horse and his harness he

shall leave with me, for it were shame to me to do him any more harm."

When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, "Sir knight, thou art

full liberal of my horse and my harness. I let thee wit it cost thee

nought, and whether it liketh thee or not this lawn will I pass, maugre

thine head, and horse nor harness gettest thou none of me, but if thou

win them with thy hands; and therefore let see what thou canst do."

"Sayst thou that?" said the black knight, "now yield thy lady from

thee, for it beseemeth never a kitchen page to ride with such a lady."

"Thou liest," said Beaumains, "I am a gentleman born, and of more high

lineage than thou, and that will I prove on thy body."

Then in great wrath they departed with their horses, and came together

as it had been the thunder; and the black knight's spear brake, and

Beaumains thrust him through both his sides, and therewith his spear

brake, and the truncheon left still in his side. But nevertheless the

black knight drew his sword, and smote many eager strokes and of great

might, and hurt Beaumains full sore. But at the last the black knight

within an hour and a half he fell down off his horse in a swoon, and

there he died. And then Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed,

then he alighted down, and armed him in his armor, and so took his

horse, and rode after the damsel. When she saw him come nigh, she

said, "Away, kitchen knave, out of the wind, for the smell of thy foul

clothes grieveth me. Alas," she said, "that ever such a knave as thou

art should by mishap slay so good a knight as thou hast done, but all

this is thine unhappiness. But hereby is one shall pay thee all thy

payment, and therefore yet I counsel thee, flee."

"It may happen me," said Beaumains, "to be beaten or slain, but I warn

you, fair damsel, I will not flee away for him, nor leave your company

for all that ye can say; for ever ye say that they slay me or beat

me, but how soever it happeneth I escape, and they lie on the ground,

and therefore it were as good for you to hold you still, than thus to

rebuke me all day, for away will I not till I feel the uttermost of

this journey, or else I will be slain or truly beaten; therefore ride

on your way, for follow you I will, whatsoever happen."

* * * * *

Thus as they rode together they saw a knight come driving by them all

in green, both his horse and his harness, and when he came nigh the

damsel he asked of her, "Is that my brother, the black knight, that ye

have brought with you?"

"Nay, nay," said she, "this unhappy kitchen knave hath slain your

brother through unhappiness."

"Alas!" said the green knight, "that is great pity that so noble a

knight as he was should so unhappily be slain, and namely of a knave's

hand, as ye say he is. Ah, traitor!" said the green knight, "thou shalt

die for slaying of my brother; he was a full noble knight, and his name

was Sir Periard."

"I defy thee," said Sir Beaumains, "for I let thee to wit I slew him

knightly, and not shamefully."

Therewithal the green knight rode unto an horn that was green, and it

hung upon a thorn, and there he blew three deadly notes, and there came

three damsels that lightly armed him. And then took he a great horse,

and a green shield and a green spear. And then they ran together with

all their mights, and brake their spears unto their hands. And then

they drew their swords, and gave many sad strokes, and either of them

wounded other full ill. And at the last at an overthwart Beaumains'

horse struck the green knight's horse upon the side [that] he fell

to the earth. And then the green knight avoided his horse lightly,

and dressed him upon foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewithal he

alighted, and they rushed together like two mighty champions a long

while, and sore they bled both. With that came the damsel and said, "My

lord the green knight, why for shame stand ye so long fighting with the

kitchen knave? Alas, it is shame that ever ye were made knight, to see

such a lad match such a knight as the weed overgrew the corn."

Therewith the green knight was ashamed, and therewithal he gave a great

stroke of might, and clave his shield through. When Beaumains saw his

shield cloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke, and of

her language; and then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he

fell on his knees; and so suddenly Beaumains pulled him upon the ground

grovelling. And then the green knight cried him mercy, and yielded him

unto Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to slay him not.

"All is in vain," said Beaumains, "for thou shalt die, but if this

damsel that came with me pray me to save thy life."

And therewithal he unlaced his helm, like as he would slay him.

"Fie upon thee, false kitchen page, I will never pray thee to save his

life, for I never will be so much in thy danger."

"Then shall he die," said Beaumains.

"Not so hardy, thou foul knave," said the damsel, "that thou slay him."

"Alas," said the green knight, "suffer me not to die, for a fair word

may save my life. O fair knight," said the green knight, "save my life,

and I will forgive the death of my brother, and for ever to become thy

man, and thirty knights that hold of me for ever shall do you service."

Said the damsel, "That such a kitchen knave should have thee and thirty

knights' service!"

"Sir knight," said Sir Beaumains, "all this availeth not, but if my

damsel speak with me for thy life."

And therewithal he made resemblance to slay him.

"Let be," said the damsel, "thou knave, slay him not, for if thou do,

thou shalt repent it."

"Damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "your charge is to me a pleasure, and at

your commandment his life shall be saved, and else not."

Then he said, "Sir knight with the green arms, I release thee quit

[_acquitted_] at this damsel's request, for I will not make her wroth,

I will fulfil all that she chargeth me."

And then the green knight kneeled down and did him homage with his

sword.

* * * * *

And always the damsel rebuked Sir Beaumains. And so that night they

went unto rest, and all that night the green knight commanded thirty

knights privily to watch Beaumains, for to keep him from all treason.

And so on the morn they all arose, and heard their mass and brake their

fast, and then they took their horses and rode on their way, and the

green knight conveyed them through the forest, and there the green

knight said, "My lord Beaumains, I and these thirty knights shall be

alway at your summons, both early and late, at your calling, and where

that ever ye will send us."

"It is well said," said Beaumains; "when that I call upon you ye must

yield you unto King Arthur and all your knights."

"If that ye so command us, we shall be ready at all times," said the

green knight.

"Fie, fie upon thee," said the damsel, "that any good knights should be

obedient unto a kitchen knave."

So then departed the green knight and the damsel. And then she said

unto Beaumains, "Why followest thou me, thou kitchen boy, cast away thy

shield and thy spear and flee away, yet I counsel thee betimes, or thou

shalt say right soon, Alas!"

* * * * *

"Damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me

as ye do, for meseemeth I have done you great service, and ever ye

threaten me for I shall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever

for all your boast they lie in the dust or in the mire, and therefore

I pray you rebuke me no more; and when ye see me beaten or yielden as

recreant, then may ye bid me go from you shamefully, but first I let

you wit I will not depart from you, for I were worse than a fool and I

would depart from you all the while that I win worship."

"Well," said she, "right soon there shall meet a knight shall pay thee

all thy wages, for he is the most man of worship of the world, except

King Arthur."

"I will well," said Beaumains; "the more he is of worship the more

shall be my worship to have ado with him."

Then anon they were ware where was before them a city rich and fair.

And betwixt them and the city a mile and a half there was a fair meadow

that seemed new mown, and therein were many pavilions fair to behold.

"Lo," said the damsel, "yonder is a lord that owneth yonder city, and

his custom is when the weather is fair to lie in this meadow to joust

and tourney; and ever there be about him five hundred knights and

gentlemen of arms, and there be all manner of games that any gentleman

can devise."

"That goodly lord," said Beaumains, "would I fain see."

"Thou shalt see him time enough," said the damsel.

And so as she rode near she espied the pavilion where he was.

"Lo," said she, "seest thou yonder pavilion, that is all of the color

of Inde, and all manner of thing that there is about, men and women,

and horses trapped, shields and spears, all of the color of Inde, and

his name is Sir Persant of Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever

thou lookedst on."

"It may well be," said Beaumains, "but be he never so stout a knight,

in this field I shall abide till that I see him under his shield."

"Ah, fool," said she, "thou wert better flee betimes."

"Why," said Beaumains, "and he be such a knight as ye make him, he will

not set upon me with all his men, or with his five hundred knights. For

and there come no more but one at once, I shall him not fail whilst my

life lasteth."

"Fie, fie," said the damsel, "that ever such a dirty knave should blow

such a boast."

"Damsel," he said, "ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I had liever

do five battles than so to be rebuked; let him come, and then let him

do his worst."

"Sir," she said, "I marvel what thou art, and of what kin thou art

come: boldly thou speakest, and boldly thou hast done, that have I

seen: therefore I pray thee save thyself and thou mayest, for thy horse

and thou have had great travail, and I dread we dwell over long from

the siege, for it is but hence seven mile, and all perilous passages we

are past, save all only this passage, and here I dread me sore lest ye

shall catch some hurt, therefore I would ye were hence, that ye were

not bruised nor hurt with this strong knight. But I let you wit this

Sir Persant of Inde is nothing of might nor strength unto the knight

that laid the siege about my lady."

"As for that," said Sir Beaumains, "be it as it may; for since I am

come so nigh this knight I will prove his might or [_ere_] I depart

from him, and else I shall be shamed and [_if_] I now withdraw me

from him. And therefore, damsel, have ye no doubt by the grace of God

I shall so deal with this knight, that within two hours after noon I

shall deliver him, and then shall we come to the siege by daylight."

"Oh, mercy, marvel have I," said the damsel, "what manner a man ye be,

for it may never be otherwise but that ye be come of a noble blood, for

so foul and shamefully did never woman rule a knight as I have done

you, and ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came never but

of a gentle blood."

"Damsel," said Beaumains, "a knight may little do that may not

suffer a damsel; for whatsoever ye said unto me I took none heed to

your words, for the more ye said the more ye angered me, and my wrath

I wreaked upon them that I had ado withal. And therefore all the

missaying that ye missayed me furthered me in my battle, and caused

me to think to show and prove myself at the end what I was; for

peradventure though I had meat in King Arthur's kitchen, yet I might

have had meat enough in other places; but all that I did for to prove

my friends; and whether I be a gentleman born or no, fair damsel, I

have done you gentleman's service, and peradventure better service yet

will I do you or [_before_] I depart from you."

"Alas," said she, "fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I have missaid

and misdone against you."

"With all my heart," said Sir Beaumains, "I forgive it you, for ye did

nothing but as ye ought to do, for all your evil words pleased me; and,

damsel," said Sir Beaumains, "sith [_since_] it liketh you to speak

thus fair to me, wit ye well it gladdeth greatly mine heart; and now

meseemeth there is no knight living but I am able enough for him."

* * * * *

With this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them, as they hoved

[_hovered_] in the field, and knightly he sent to them to know whether

he came in war or in peace.

"Say unto thy lord," said Sir Beaumains, "I take no force,[14] but

whether as him list[15] himself."

[Footnote 14: "I take no force," _I care not_.]

[Footnote 15: "Him list," _he wishes, he pleases_.]

So the messenger went again unto Sir Persant, and told him all his

answer.

"Well," said he, "then will I have ado with him to the uttermost;" and

so he purveyed him [_prepared himself_], and rode against him. And when

Sir Beaumains saw him, he made him ready, and there they met with all

the might that their horses might run, and brake their spears either

in three pieces, and their horses rashed so together that both their

horses fell dead to the earth; and lightly they avoided their horses,

and put their shields before them, and drew their swords, and gave each

other many great strokes, that sometime they so hurled together that

they fell both grovelling on the ground. Thus they fought two hours and

more, that their shields and their hauberks were all forhewen [_hewn to

pieces_] and in many places they were sore wounded. So at the last Sir

Beaumains smote him through the cost [_rib part_] of the body, and then

he retrayed him [_drew back_] here and there, and knightly maintained

his battle long time. And at the last Sir Beaumains smote Sir Persant

on the helm that he fell grovelling to the earth, and then he leaped

overthwart [_across_] upon him, and unlaced his helm for to have slain

him. Then Sir Persant yielded him, and asked him mercy. With that came

the damsel and prayed him to save his life.

"I will well," said Sir Beaumains, "for it were pity that this noble

knight should die."

"Gramercy," said Sir Persant, "gentle knight and damsel, for certainly

now I know well it was you that slew the black knight my brother at the

blackthorn; he was a full noble knight, his name was Sir Periard. Also

I am sure that ye are he that won mine other brother the green knight:

his name was Sir Pertolope. Also ye won the red knight, my brother, Sir

Perimones. And now, sir, sith ye have won these knights, this shall I

do for to please you: ye shall have homage and fealty of me, and an

hundred knights to be always at your command, to go and ride where ye

will command us."

And so they went unto Sir Persant's pavilion, and there he drank wine

and eat spices. And afterward Sir Persant made him to rest upon a bed

till it was supper time, and after supper to bed again. And so we leave

him there till on the morrow.

* * * * *

Now leave we the knight and the dwarf, and speak we of Beaumains, that

all night lay in the hermitage, and upon the morn he and the damsel

Linet heard their mass, and brake their fast. And then they took their

horses and rode throughout a fair forest, and then they came to a

plain, and saw where were many pavilions and tents, and a fair castle,

and there was much smoke and great noise. And when they came near the

siege Sir Beaumains espied upon great trees, as he rode, how there hung

full goodly armed knights by the neck, and their shields about their

necks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels, and so there

hung shamefully nigh forty knights with rich arms. Then Sir Beaumains

abated his countenance, and said, "What thing meaneth this?"

"Fair sir," saith the damsel, "abate not your cheer for all this sight,

for ye must encourage yourself, or else ye be all shent [_ruined_], for

all these knights came hither unto this siege to rescue my sister dame

Lyoness, and when the red knight of the red lawns had overcome them,

he put them to this shameful death, without mercy and pity, and in the

same wise he will serve you, but if ye quit [_acquit_] you the better."

"Now Jesu defend me," said Sir Beaumains, "from such a villanous death

and shenship [_disgrace_] of arms! for rather than thus I should fare

withal, I would rather be slain manfully in plain battle."

"So were ye better," said the damsel, "trust not in him, for in him

is no courtesy, but all goeth to the death or shameful murder, and

that is great pity, for he is a full likely man and well made of body,

and a full noble knight of prowess, and a lord of great lands and

possessions."

"Truly," said Sir Beaumains, "he may well be a good knight, but he

useth shameful customs, and it is great marvel that he endureth so

long, that none of the noble knights of my lord King Arthur's court

have not dealt with him."

And then they rode unto the ditches, and saw them double ditched with

full strong walls, and there were lodged many great estates and lords

nigh the walls, and there was great noise of minstrels, and the sea

beat upon the one side of the walls, where as were many ships and

mariners' noise with hale and how.[16] And also there was fast by a

sycamore tree, and thereon hung an horn, the greatest that ever they

saw, of an elephant's bone.

[Footnote 16: "Hale and how," _haul and ho_: the sailors' cries in

hoisting away, &c.]

"And this knight of the red lawns hath hanged it up there, that if

there come any errant knight, he must blow that horn, and then will

he make him ready, and come to him to do battle. But sir, I pray you,"

said the damsel Linet, "blow ye not the horn till it be high noon, for

now it is about prime, and now increaseth his might, that, as men say,

he hath seven men's strength."

"Ah, fie for shame, fair damsel, say ye never so more to me, for, and

he were as good a knight as ever was, I shall never fail him in his

most might, for either I will win worship worshipfully, or die knightly

in the field."

And therewith he spurred his horse straight to the sycamore tree

and blew the horn so eagerly that all the siege and the castle rang

thereof. And then there leaped our knights out of their tents and

pavilions, and they within the castle looked over the walls and out at

windows. Then the red knight of the red lawns armed him hastily, and

two barons set on his spurs upon his heels, and all was blood-red, his

armor, spear, and shield. And an earl buckled his helm upon his head,

and then they brought him a red spear and a red steed, and so he rode

into a little vale under the castle, that all that were in the castle

and at the siege might behold the battle.

* * * * *

"Sir," said the damsel Linet unto Sir Beaumains, "look ye be glad and

light, for yonder is your deadly enemy, and at yonder window is my lady

my sister, dame Lyoness."

"Where?" said Beaumains.

"Yonder," said the damsel, and pointed with her finger.

"That is truth," said Beaumains. "She seemeth afar the fairest lady

that ever I looked upon, and truly," he said, "I ask no better quarrel

than now for to do battle, for truly she shall be my lady, and for her

I will fight."

And ever he looked up to the window with glad countenance. And the lady

Lyoness made courtesy to him down to the earth, with holding up both

her hands. With that the red knight of the red lawns called to Sir

Beaumains, "Leave, sir knight, thy looking, and behold me, I counsel

thee, for I warn thee well she is my lady, and for her I have done many

strong battles."

"If thou have so done," said Beaumains, "meseemeth it was but waste

labor, for she loveth none of thy fellowship, and thou to love that

loveth not thee, is a great folly. For if I understood that she were

not glad of my coming, I would be advised or I did battle for her,

but I understand by the besieging of this castle she may forbear thy

company. And therefore wit thou well, thou red knight of the red lawns,

I love her and will rescue her, or else die in the quarrel."

"Sayest thou that?" said the red knight; "me seemeth thou ought of

reason to beware by yonder knights that thou sawest hang upon yonder

great elms."

"Fie, fie, for shame," said Sir Beaumains, "that ever thou shouldest

say or do so evil and such shamefulness, for in that thou shamest

thyself and the order of knighthood, and thou mayst be sure there will

no lady love thee that knoweth thy detestable customs. And now thou

weenest [_thinkest_] that the sight of these hanged knights should fear

[_scare_] me and make me aghast, nay truly not so, that shameful sight

causeth me to have courage and hardiness against thee, more than I

would have had against thee and if thou be a well ruled knight."

"Make thee ready," said the red knight of the red lawns, "and talk no

longer with me."

Then Sir Beaumains bade the damsel go from him, and then they put their

spears in their rests, and came together with all the might they had,

and either smote other in the midst of their shields, that the paytrels

[_breast-plates_], surcingles, and cruppers burst, and fell both to

the ground with the reins of their bridles in their hands, and so they

lay a great while sore astonied, and all they that were in the castle

and at the siege wend [_thought_] their necks had been broken, and

then many a stranger and other said that the strange knight was a big

man and a noble jouster, "for or [_ere_] now we saw never no knight

match the red knight of the red lawns;" thus they said both within the

castle and without. Then they lightly avoided their horses and put

their shields afore them, and drew their swords and ran together like

two fierce lions, and either gave other such buffets upon their helms

that they reeled both backward two strides; and then they recovered

both, and hewed great pieces from their harness and their shields that

a great part fell in the fields.

* * * * *

And then thus they fought till it was past noon and never would stint

till at last they lacked wind both, and then they stood wagging and

scattering, panting, blowing and bleeding, that all that beheld them

for the most part wept for pity. So when they had rested them a while

they went to battle again, tracing, racing, foining [_feinting_], as

two boars. And at some time they took their run as it had been two

rams, and hurtled together that sometimes they fell grovelling to the

earth; and at some time they were so amazed that either took other's

sword instead of his own.

Thus they endured till even-song time [_vespers_], that there was

none that beheld them might know whether was like to win the battle;

and their armor was so far hewn that men might see their naked sides,

and in other places they were naked, but ever the naked places they

did defend. And the red knight was a wily knight of war, and his wily

fighting taught Sir Beaumains to be wise; but he abought [_paid for_]

it full sore ere he did espy his fighting. And thus by assent of them

both, they granted either other to rest; and so they set them down upon

two mole-hills there beside the fighting place, and either of them

unlaced his helm, and took the cold wind, for either of their pages was

fast by them, to come when they called to unlace their harness and to

set it on again at their command. And then when Sir Beaumains' helm was

off, he looked up unto the window, and there he saw the fair lady dame

Lyoness. And she made to him such countenance that his heart was light

and joyful. And therewith he started up suddenly, and bade the red

knight make him ready to do the battle to the uttermost.

"I will well," said the red knight.

And then they laced up their helms, and their pages avoided [_got out

of the way_], and they stepped together and fought freshly. But the red

knight of the red lawns awaited him, and at an overthwart [_crosswise_]

smote him within the hand, that his sword fell out of his hand; and

yet he gave him another buffet on the helm that he fell grovelling to

the earth, and the red knight fell over him for to hold him down.

Then cried the maiden Linet on high, "O Sir Beaumains, where is thy

courage become! Alas, my lady my sister beholdeth thee, and she sobbeth

and weepeth, that maketh mine heart heavy."

When Sir Beaumains heard her say so, he started up with a great might

and gat him upon his feet, and lightly he leaped to his sword and

griped it in his hand, and doubled his pace unto the red knight, and

there they fought a new battle together. But Sir Beaumains then doubled

his strokes, and smote so thick that he smote the sword out of his

hand, and then he smote him upon the helm that he fell to the earth,

and Sir Beaumains fell upon him, and unlaced his helm to have slain

him; and then he yielded him and asked mercy, and said with a loud

voice, "O noble knight, I yield me to thy mercy."

Then Sir Beaumains bethought him upon the knights that he had made to

be hanged shamefully, and then he said, "I may not with my worship

save thy life, for the shameful deaths thou hast caused many full good

knights to die."

"Sir," said the red knight of the red lawns, "hold your hand, and ye

shall know the causes why I put them to so shameful a death."

"Say on," said Sir Beaumains.

"Sir, I loved once a lady, a fair damsel, and she had her brother

slain, and she said it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, or else Sir Gawaine,

and she prayed me as that I loved her heartily that I would make her a

promise by the faith of my knighthood for to labor daily in arms until

I met with one of them, and all that I might overcome I should put

them unto a villanous death; and this is the cause that I have put all

these knights to death, and so I ensured her to do all the villany unto

King Arthur's knights, and that I should take vengeance upon all these

knights. And, sir, now I will thee tell that every day my strength

increaseth till noon, and all this time have I seven men's strength."

* * * * *

Then came there many earls, and barons, and noble knights, and prayed

that knight to save his life, and take him to your prisoner: and all

they fell upon their knees and prayed him of mercy, and that he would

save his life, and, "Sir," they all said, "it were fairer of him to

take homage and fealty, and let him hold his lands of you, than for to

slay him: by his death ye shall have none advantage, and his misdeeds

that be done may not be undone; and therefore he shall make amends to

all parties, and we all will become your men, and do you homage and

fealty."

"Fair lords," said Beaumains, "wit you well I am full loth to slay

this knight, nevertheless he hath done passing ill and shamefully. But

insomuch all that he did was at a lady's request, I blame him the less,

and so for your sake I will release him, that he shall have his life

upon this covenant, that he go within the castle and yield him there to

the lady, and if she will forgive and quit [_acquit_] him, I will well;

with this that he make her amends of all the trespass he hath done

against her and her lands. And also, when that is done, that ye go unto

the court of King Arthur, and there that ye ask Sir Launcelot mercy,

and Sir Gawaine, for the evil will ye have had against them."

"Sir," said the red knight of the red lawns, "all this will I do as ye

command, and certain assurance and sureties ye shall have."

And so then when the assurance was made, he made his homage and fealty,

and all those earls and barons with him. And then the maiden Linet came

to Sir Beaumains and unarmed him, and searched his wounds, and stinted

his blood, and in likewise she did to the red knight of the red lawns.

And so they sojourned ten days in their tents. And the red knight made

his lords and servants to do all the pleasure that they might unto Sir

Beaumains.

And within a while after, the red knight of the red lawns went unto the

castle and put him in the lady Lyoness' grace, and so she received him

upon sufficient sureties, and all her hurts were well restored of all

that she could complain. And then he departed and went unto the court

of King Arthur, and there openly the red knight of the red lawns put

him in the mercy of Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine, and there he told

openly how he was overcome, and by whom, and also he told of all the

battles, from the beginning to the ending.

"Jesus, mercy," said King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, "we marvel much of

what blood he is come, for he is a full noble knight."

"Have ye no marvel," said Sir Launcelot, "for ye shall right well

wit that he is come of a full noble blood, and, as for his might and

hardiness, there be but few now living that is so mighty as he is and

so noble of prowess."

"It seemeth by you," said King Arthur, "that ye know his name, and from

whence he is come, and of what blood he is."

"I suppose I do so," said Sir Launcelot, "or else I would not have

given him the order of knighthood; but he gave me at that time such

charge that I should never discover him until he required me, or else

it be known openly by some other."

Now return we unto Sir Beaumains, which desired of the damsel Linet

that he might see her sister his lady.

"Sir," said she, "I would fain ye saw her."

Then Sir Beaumains armed him at all points, and took his horse and his

spear, and rode straight to the castle. And when he came to the gate,

he found there many men armed, that pulled up the drawbridge and drew

the port close. Then marvelled he why they would not suffer him to

enter in. And then he looked up to the window, and there he saw the

fair lady dame Lyoness, that said on high: "Go thy way, Sir Beaumains,

for as yet thou shalt not wholly have my love, until the time thou be

called one of the number of the worthy knights; and therefore go and

labor in arms worshipfully these twelve months, and then ye shall hear

new tidings; and perdé [_per dieu, truly_] a twelvemonth will be soon

gone, and trust you me, fair knight, I shall be true unto you, and

shall never betray you, but unto my death I shall love you and none

other."

And therewithal she turned her from the window. And Sir Beaumains rode

away from the castle in making great moan and sorrow; and so he rode

here and there, and wist not whither he rode, till it was dark night;

and then it happened him to come to a poor man's house, and there he

was harbored all that night. But Sir Beaumains could have no rest, but

wallowed and writhed for the love of the lady of the castle. And so on

the morrow he took his horse and his armor, and rode till it was noon;

and then he came unto a broad water, and thereby was a great lodge,

and there he alighted to sleep, and laid his head upon his shield, and

betook his horse to the dwarf, and commanded him to watch all night.

Now turn we to the lady of the castle, that thought much upon Sir

Beaumains; and then she called unto her Sir Gringamor her brother, and

prayed him in all manner, as he loved her heartily, that he would ride

after Sir Beaumains, "and ever have him in a wait [_look after him_]

till that ye may find him sleeping, for I am sure in his heaviness he

will alight down in some place and lie down to sleep, and therefore

have your watch upon him, and, in the priviest wise [_softest way_]

that ye can, take his dwarf from him, and go your way with him as fast

as ever ye may or Sir Beaumains awake; for my sister Linet hath showed

me that the dwarf can tell of what kindred he is come, and what his

right name is; and in the meanwhile I and my sister will ride to your

castle to await when ye shall bring with you this dwarf, and then when

ye have brought him to your castle, I will have him in examination

myself; unto the time I know what his right name is, and of what

kindred he is come, shall I never be merry at my heart."

"Sister," said Sir Gringamor, "all this shall be done after your

intent." And so he rode all the other day and the night till that he

found Sir Beaumains lying by a water, and his head upon his shield,

for to sleep. And then when he saw Sir Beaumains fast on sleep, he

came stilly stalking behind the dwarf, and plucked him fast under his

arm, and so he rode away with him as fast as ever he might unto his

own castle. But ever as he rode with the dwarf towards his castle, he

cried unto his lord and prayed him of help. And therewith awoke Sir

Beaumains, and up he leaped lightly, and saw where Sir Gringamor rode

his way with the dwarf, and so Sir Gringamor rode out of his sight.

* * * * *

Then Sir Beaumains put on his helm anon, and buckled his shield, and

took his horse and rode after him all that ever he might ride, through

marshes and fields and great dales, that many times his horse and he

plunged over the head in deep mires, for he knew not the way, but he

took the next [_nearest_] way in that woodness [_madness_] that many

times he was like to perish. [And so he came following his dwarf to Sir

Gringamor's castle. But aforetime the lady Lyoness had come and had

the dwarf in examination; and the dwarf had told the lady how that Sir

Beaumains was the son of a king, and how his mother was sister to King

Arthur, and how his right name was Sir Gareth of Orkney.]

[Illustration: _The lady Lyoness ... had the dwarf in examination_]

And as they sat thus talking, there came Sir Beaumains at the gate

with an angry countenance, and his sword drawn in his hand, and cried

aloud that all the castle might hear it, saying, "Thou traitor, Sir

Gringamor, deliver me my dwarf again, or by the faith that I owe to the

order of knighthood, I shall do thee all the harm that I can."

Then Sir Gringamor looked out at a window, and said, "Sir Gareth of

Orkney, leave thy boasting words, for thou gettest not thy dwarf again."

"Thou coward knight," said Sir Gareth, "bring him with thee, and come

and do battle with me, and win him, and take him."

"So will I do," said Sir Gringamor, "and me list [_if it please me_],

but for all thy great words thou gettest him not."

"Ah, fair brother," said dame Lyoness, "I would he had his dwarf again,

for I would not he were wroth, for now he hath told me all my desire

I will no longer keep the dwarf. And also, brother, he hath done much

for me, and delivered me from the red knight of the red lawns, and

therefore, brother, I owe him my service afore all knights living; and

wit ye well I love him above all other knights, and full fain would I

speak with him, but in no wise I would he wist what I were, but that I

were another strange lady."

"Well," said Sir Gringamor, "sith [_since_] that I know your will, I

will now obey unto him."

And therewithal he went down unto Sir Gareth, and said, "Sir, I cry you

mercy, and all that I have misdone against your person I will amend it

at your own will, and therefore I pray you that you will alight, and

take such cheer as I can make you here in this castle."

"Shall I then have my dwarf again?" said Sir Gareth.

"Yea, sir, and all the pleasure that I can make you, for as soon as

your dwarf told me what ye were and of what blood that ye are come,

and what noble deeds ye have done in these marches [_borders_], then I

repent me of my deeds."

And then Sir Gareth alighted down from his horse, and therewith came

his dwarf and took his horse.

"O my fellow," said Sir Gareth, "I have had many evil adventures for

thy sake."

And so Sir Gringamor took him by the hand, and led him into the hall,

and there was Sir Gringamor's wife.

And then there came forth into the hall dame Lyoness arrayed like a

princess, and there she made him passing good cheer, and he her again.

And they had goodly language and lovely countenance together. And Sir

Gareth many times thought in himself, "Would to God that the lady of

the Castle Perilous were so fair as she is!" There were all manner of

games and plays, both of dancing and leaping; and ever the more Sir

Gareth beheld the lady, the more he loved her, and so he burned in love

that he was past himself in his understanding. And forth towards night

they went to supper, and Sir Gareth might not eat, for his love was

so hot that he wist not where he was. All these looks Sir Gringamor

espied, and after supper he called his sister dame Lyoness unto a

chamber, and said: "Fair sister, I have well espied your countenance

between you and this knight, and I will, sister, that ye wit that he is

a full noble knight, and if ye can make him to abide here, I will do to

him all the pleasure that I can, for and ye were better than ye be, ye

were well bestowed upon him."

"Fair brother," said dame Lyoness, "I understand well that the knight

is good, and come he is of a noble house; notwithstanding I will assay

him better, for he hath had great labor for my love, and hath passed

many a dangerous passage."

Right so Sir Gringamor went unto Sir Gareth, and said: "Sir, make ye

good cheer; for wist [know] ye well that she loveth you as well as ye

do her, and better if better may be."

"And I wist that," said Sir Gareth, "there lived not a gladder man than

I would be."

"Upon my worship," said Sir Gringamor, "trust unto my promise; and as

long as it liketh you ye shall sojourn with me, and this lady shall be

with us daily and nightly to make you all the cheer that she can."

"I will well," said Sir Gareth, "for I have promised to be nigh this

country this twelvemonth. And well I am sure King Arthur and other

noble knights will find me where that I am within this twelvemonth. For

I shall be sought and found, if that I be on live."

And then the noble knight Sir Gareth went unto the dame Lyoness, which

he then much loved, and kissed her many times, and either made great

joy of other. And there she promised him her love, certainly to love

him and none other the days of her life. Then this lady, dame Lyoness,

by the assent of her brother, told Sir Gareth all the truth what she

was, and how she was the same lady that he did battle for, and how she

was lady of the Castle Perilous. And there she told him how she caused

her brother to take away his dwarf, "For this cause, to know the

certainty what was your name, and of what kin ye were come."

And then she let fetch before him Linet the damsel, which had ridden

with him many dreary ways. Then was Sir Gareth more gladder than he was

tofore. And then they troth plight[17] each other to love, and never to

fail while their life lasted.

[Footnote 17: "Troth," _truth_, and "plight," _wove_: "troth plight,"

_wove their truth together_.]

BOOK 4.