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twg_000012925900 | of this journey, or else I will be slain or truly beaten; therefore ride on your way, for follow you I will, whatsoever happen." As they rode along 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 her, "Is that my brother | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925901 | the Black Knight that ye have brought with you?" "Nay, nay," said she, "this unlucky kitchen-knave hath slain your brother through mischance." "Alas," said the Green Knight, "that is great pity that so noble a knight as he was should so unfortunately be slain, and by a knave's hand, as ye say that he is. Ah! traitor, thou shalt die | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925902 | for slaying my brother; he was a full noble knight." "I defy thee," said Fair-hands, "for I make known to thee I slew him knightly and not shamefully." Therewithal the Green Knight rode unto a horn that was green that hung on a green thorn, and there he blew three deadly notes, whereupon came two damsels and armed him lightly. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925903 | Then he took a great horse and a green shield and a green spear, and the two knights ran together with all their mights. They brake their spears unto their hands, and then drew their swords. Now they gave many sad strokes, and either of them wounded other full ill. At the last Fair-hands' horse struck the Green Knight's horse | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925904 | upon the side, and it fell to the earth. Then the Green Knight left his horse lightly, and prepared to fight on foot. That saw Fair-hands, 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925905 | 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 if the weed overgrew the corn." Therewith the Green Knight was ashamed, and gave a great stroke of might, and clave Fair-hands' shield through. When the young knight saw his shield | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925906 | cloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke and of her language, and then he gave the other such a buffet upon the helm that he fell on his knees, and Fair-hands quickly pulled him upon the ground grovelling. Then the Green Knight cried for mercy, and yielded himself unto Sir Fair-hands, and prayed him to slay him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925907 | not. "All is in vain," said Fair-hands, "for thou shalt die unless this damsel that came with me pray me to save thy life." Therewithal he unlaced his helm as if to slay him. "Let be," said the damsel, "thou foul kitchen-knave, slay him not, for if thou do, thou shalt repent it." "Damsel," said Fair-hands, "your charge is to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925908 | me a pleasure, and at your commandment his life shall be saved, and else not. Sir Knight with the green arms, I release thee quit 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, promising for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925909 | ever to become his man together with thirty knights that held of him. Then said the damsel, "Me repenteth, Green Knight, of your damage and of the death of your brother the Black Knight; of your help I had great need, for I fear me sore to pass this forest." "Nay, fear ye not," said the Green Knight, "for ye | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925910 | shall lodge with me this night, and to-morn I shall help you through this forest." So they took their horses and rode to his manor, which was fast there beside. And ever the damsel rebuked Fair-hands, and would not suffer him to sit at her table. But the Green Knight took him and set him at a side table, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925911 | did him honour, for he saw that he was come of noble blood and had proved himself a full noble knight. All that night he commanded thirty men privily to watch Fair-hands for to keep him from all treason. And on the morn they arose, and after breaking their fast they took their horses and rode on their way. As | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925912 | the Green Knight conveyed them through the forest he said, "My lord Fair-hands, I and these thirty knights shall be always at your summons, both early and late at your call wherever ye will send us." "It is well," said Fair-hands; "when I call upon you ye must go unto King Arthur with all your knights." So the Green Knight | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925913 | took his leave, and the damsel said unto Fair-hands, "Why followest thou me, thou kitchen-boy; cast away thy shield and thy spear and flee, for thou shalt not pass a pass here, that is called the pass Perilous." "Damsel," said Fair-hands, "who is afraid let him flee, for it were shame to turn again since I have ridden so long | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925914 | with you." "Well," said she, "ye shall soon, whether ye will or not." In like manner on the next day Sir Fair-hands overcame a third brother, the Red Knight, and in like manner the damsel would have Fair-hands spare his life. Albeit she spake unto him many contemptuous words, whereof the Red Knight had great marvel, and all that night | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925915 | made three-score men to watch Fair-hands that he should have no shame or villainy. The Red Knight yielded himself to Fair-hands with fifty knights, and they all proffered him homage and fealty at all times to do him service. "I thank you," said Fair-hands; "this ye shall grant me when I call upon you, to come afore my lord King | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925916 | Arthur and yield yourselves unto him to be his knights." "Sir," said the Red Knight, "I will be ready and my fellowship at your summons." So again upon the morn Sir Fair-hands and the damsel departed, and ever she rode chiding him in the foulest manner. "Damsel," said Fair-hands, "ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me as ye do, for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925917 | me seemeth I have done you good service, and ever ye threaten me I shall be beaten with knights that we meet; but ever for all your boasts they lie in the dust or in the mire, and therefore I pray you rebuke me no more. When ye see me beaten or yielded as recreant, then may ye bid me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925918 | go from you shamefully, but first I let you wit I will not depart from you, for I were worse than a fool if I should depart from you all the while that I win honour." "Well," said she, "right soon there shall come a knight that shall pay thee all thy wages, for he is the most man of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925919 | honour of the world, except King Arthur." "The more he is of honour," said Fair-hands, "the more shall be my honour to have ado with him. Have no doubt, damsel, by the grace of God I shall so deal with this knight that within two hours after noon I shall overcome him, and then shall we come to the siege | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925920 | of your lady's castle seven miles hence by daylight." "Marvel have I," said the damsel, "what manner of man ye be, for it may never be otherwise but that ye be come of 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925921 | came never but of gentle blood." "Damsel," said Fair-hands, "a knight may little do that may not suffer a damsel, for whatsoever ye said unto me I took no 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925922 | that ye missaid 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. All that I did to prove and to assay my friends, and whether I be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925923 | a gentleman born or not, I let you wit, fair damsel, I have done you gentleman's service, and peradventure better service yet will I do ere I depart from you." "Alas," she said, "good Fair-hands, forgive me all that I have missaid or done against thee." "With all my heart," said he, "I forgive it you, and damsel, since it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925924 | liketh you to say thus fair to me, wit ye well it gladdeth mine heart greatly, and now me seemeth there is no knight living but I am able enough for him." With this Sir Persant of Inde, the fourth of the brethren that stood in Fair-hands' way to the siege, espied them as they came upon the fair meadow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925925 | where his pavilion was. Sir Persant was the most lordly knight that ever thou lookedst on. His pavilion and all manner of thing that there is about, men and women, and horses' trappings, shields and spears were all of dark blue colour. Anon he and Fair-hands prepared themselves and rode against one another that both their spears were shattered to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925926 | pieces, and their horses fell dead to the earth. Then they fought two hours and more on foot, until their armour was all hewn to pieces, and in many places they were wounded. At the last, though loath to do it, Fair-hands smote Sir Persant above upon the helm so that he fell grovelling to the earth, and the fierce | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925927 | battle was at an end. Like his three brethren before, Sir Persant yielded himself and asked for mercy, and at the damsel's request Fair-hands gladly granted his life, and received homage and fealty from him and a hundred knights, to be always at his commandment. On the morn as the damsel and Sir Fair-hands departed from Sir Persant's pavilion, "Fair | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925928 | damsel," said Persant, "whitherward are ye away leading this knight?" "Sir," she said, "this knight is going to the siege that besiegeth my sister in the Castle Perilous." "Ah, ah," said Persant, "that is the Knight of the Red Lawns, the most perilous knight that I know now living, a man that is without mercy, and men say that he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925929 | hath seven men's strength. God save you, sir, from that knight, for he doth great wrong to that lady, which is great pity, for she is one of the fairest ladies of the world, and me seemeth that this damsel is her sister. Is not your name Linet?" "Yea, sir," said she, "and my lady my sister's name is Dame | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925930 | Liones. Now, my lord Sir Persant of Inde, I request you that ye make this gentleman knight or ever he fight with the Red Knight." "I will with all my heart," said Sir Persant, "if it please him to take the order of knighthood of so simple a man as I am." But Fair-hands thanked him for his good will, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925931 | and told him he was better sped, as the noble Sir Launcelot had already made him knight. Then, after Persant and the damsel had promised to keep it close, he told them his real name was Gareth of Orkney, King Arthur's nephew, and that Sir Gawaine and Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris were all his brethren, he being the youngest | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925932 | of them all. "And yet," said he, "wot not King Arthur nor Sir Gawaine what I am." The book saith that the lady that was besieged had word of her sister's coming and a knight with her, and how he had passed all the perilous passages, had won all the four brethren, and had slain the Black Knight, and how | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925933 | he overthrew Sir Kay, and did great battle with Sir Launcelot, and was made knight by him. She was glad of these tidings, and sent them wine and dainty foods and bade Sir Fair-hands be of good heart and good courage. The next day Fair-hands and Linet took their horses again and rode through a fair forest and came to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925934 | a spot where they saw across the plain many pavilions and a fair castle and much smoke. And when they came near the siege Sir Fair-hands espied upon great trees, as he rode, how there hung goodly armed knights by the necks, nigh forty of them, their shields about their necks with their swords. These were knights that had come | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925935 | to the siege to rescue Dame Liones, and had been overcome and put to this shameful death by the Red Knight of the Red Lawns. Then they rode to the dykes, and saw how strong were the defences, and many great lords nigh the walls, and the sea upon the one side of the walls, where were many ships and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925936 | mariners' noise, with "hale" and "ho." Fast by there was a sycamore tree, whereupon hung a horn, the greatest that ever they saw, of an elephant's bone. This the Knight of the Red Lawns had hung up there that any errant knight might blow it, if he wished the Knight of the Red Lawns to come to him to do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925937 | battle. The damsel Linet besought Fair-hands not to blow the horn till high noon, for the Red Knight's might grew greater all through the morn, till, as men said, he had seven men's strength. "Ah, fie for shame, fair damsel," said Fair-hands, "say ye never so more to me, for, were he as good a knight as ever was, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925938 | shall never fail him in his most might, for either I will win honour honourably, or die knightly in the field." Therewith he spurred his horse straight to the sycamore tree, and blew the horn so eagerly that all the siege and all the castle rang thereof. And then there leaped out knights out of their tents, and they within | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925939 | the castle looked over the walls and out at windows. Then the Red Knight of the Red Lawns armed himself hastily, and two barons set his spurs upon his heels, and all was blood red,--his armour, spear, and shield. And an earl buckled his helm upon his head, and then they brought him a red steed, and so he rode | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925940 | into a little vale under the castle, that all that were in the castle and at the siege might behold the battle. Sir Fair-hands looked up at a window of the castle, and there he saw the Lady Liones, the fairest lady, it seemed to him, that ever he looked upon. She made courtesy down to him, and ever he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925941 | looked up to the window with glad countenance, and loved her from that time and vowed to rescue her or else to die. "Leave, Sir Knight, thy looking," said the Red Knight, "and behold me, I counsel thee, and make thee ready." Then they both put their spears in their rests, and came together with all the might that they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925942 | had. Either smote other in the midst of the shield with such force that the breastplates, horse-girths, and cruppers brake, and both fell to the earth stunned, and lay so long that all they that were in the castle and in the siege thought their necks had been broken. But at length they put their shields afore them, drew their | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925943 | swords, and ran together like two fierce lions. Either gave other such buffets upon the helm that they reeled backward; then they recovered both, and hewed off great pieces of their harness and their shields. Thus they fought till it was past noon, and never would stint, till at last they lacked wind both, and stood panting and blowing a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925944 | while. Then they went to battle again, and thus they endured till even-song time, and none that beheld them might know whether was like to win. Then by assent of them both they granted either other to rest; and so they sat down on two molehills, and unlaced their helms to take the cool wind. Then Sir Fair-hands looked up | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925945 | at the window, and there he saw the fair lady, Dame Liones. She made him such countenance that his heart waxed light and jolly; and therewith he bade the Red Knight of the Red Lawns make ready to do battle to the uttermost. So they laced up their helms and fought freshly. By a cross stroke the Red Knight of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925946 | the Red Lawns smote Sir Fair-hands' sword from him, and then gave him another buffet on the helm so that he fell grovelling to the earth, and the Red Knight fell upon him to hold him down. Then Linet cried to him aloud and said that the lady beheld and wept. When Sir Fair-hands heard her say so he started | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925947 | up with great might, gat upon his feet, and leaped to his sword. He gripped it in his hand, doubled his pace unto the Red Knight, and there they fought a new battle together. Now Sir Fair-hands doubled his strokes and smote so thick that soon he had the better of the Red Knight of the Red Lawns, and unlaced | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925948 | his helm to slay him, whereupon he yielded himself to Fair-hands' mercy. Sir Fair-hands bethought him upon the knights that he had made to be hanged shamefully, and said, "I may not with my honour save thy life." Then came there many earls and barons and noble knights, and prayed Fair-hands to save his life and take him as prisoner. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925949 | Then he released him upon this covenant that he go within to the castle and yield himself there to the lady, and if she would forgive him he might have his life with making amends to the lady of all the trespass he had done against her and her lands. The Red Knight of the Red Lawns promised to do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925950 | as Sir Fair-hands commanded and so with all those earls and barons he made his homage and fealty to him. Within a while he went unto the castle, where he made peace with the Lady Liones, and departed unto the court of King Arthur. There he told openly how he was overcome and by whom, and also he told all | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925951 | the battles of Fair-hands from the beginning unto the ending. "Mercy," said King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, "we marvel much of what blood he is come, for he is a noble knight." But Sir Launcelot had no marvel, for he knew whence he came, yet because of his promise he would not discover Fair-hands until he permitted it or else | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925952 | it were known openly by some other. Dame Liones soon learned through her brother Sir Gringamore that the knight who had wrought her deliverance was a king's son, Sir Gareth of Orkney, and nephew of King Arthur himself. And she made him passing good cheer, and he her again, and they had goodly language and lovely countenance together. And she | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925953 | promised the noble knight Sir Gareth certainly to love him and none other the days of her life. Then there was not a gladder man than he, for ever since he saw her at the window of Castle Perilous he had so burned in love for her that he was nigh past himself in his reason. HOW SIR GARETH RETURNED | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925954 | TO THE COURT OF KING ARTHUR Now leave we Sir Gareth there with Sir Gringamore and his sisters, Liones and Linet, and turn we unto King Arthur that held the next feast of Pentecost at Carlion. And there came the Green Knight with his fifty knights, and they yielded themselves all unto King Arthur. And so there came the Red | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925955 | Knight, his brother, and yielded himself and three-score knights with him. Also there came the Blue Knight, brother to them, and his hundred knights, and yielded themselves. These three brethren told King Arthur how they were overcome by a knight that a damsel had with her, and called him Fair-hands. Also they told how the fourth brother, the Black Knight, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925956 | was slain in an encounter with Sir Fair-hands, and of the adventure with the two brethren that kept the passage of the water; and ever more King Arthur marvelled who the knight might be that was in his kitchen a twelvemonth and that Sir Kay in scorn named Fair-hands. Right as the King stood so talking with these three brethren | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925957 | there came Sir Launcelot of the Lake and told him that there was come a goodly lord with six hundred knights. The King went out, and there came to him and saluted him in a goodly manner the Red Knight of the Red Lawns, and he said, "I am sent to you by a knight that is called Fair-hands, for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925958 | he won me in plain battle, hand for hand. No knight has ever had the better of me before. I and my knights yield ourselves to your will, as he commanded, to do you such service as may be in our power." King Arthur received him courteously, as he had before received the three brethren, and he promised to do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925959 | them honour for the love of Sir Fair-hands. Then the King and they went to meat, and were served in the best manner. And as they sat at the table, there came in the Queen of Orkney, with ladies and knights a great number. And her sons, Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, and Gaheris arose and went to her, and saluted | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925960 | her upon their knees and asked her blessing, for in fifteen years they had not seen her. Then she spake on high to her brother, King Arthur, "Where have ye done my young son, Sir Gareth? He was here amongst you a twelvemonth, and ye made a kitchen-knave of him, which is shame to you all." "Oh dear mother," said | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925961 | Sir Gawaine, "I knew him not." "Nor I," said the King; "but thanked be God, he is proved an honourable knight as any of his years now living, and I shall never be glad till I may find him. Sister, me seemeth ye might have done me to know of his coming, and then, had I not done well to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925962 | him, ye might have blamed me. For when he came to this court, he came leaning upon two men's shoulders, as though he might not walk. And then he asked of me three gifts,--one the same day, that was that I would give him meat for that twelvemonth. The other two gifts he asked that day a twelvemonth, and those | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925963 | were that he might have the adventure of the damsel Linet, and that Sir Launcelot should make him knight when he desired him. I granted him all his desire, and many in this court marvelled that he desired his sustenance for a twelvemonth, and thereby deemed many of us that he was not come of a noble house." "Sir," said | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925964 | the Queen of Orkney unto King Arthur, her brother, "I sent him unto you right well armed and horsed, and gold and silver plenty to spend." "It may be," said the King, "but thereof saw we none, save that same day as he departed from us, knights told me that there came a dwarf hither suddenly, and brought him armour | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925965 | and a good horse, full well and richly beseen, and thereat we had all marvel from whence that riches came. Then we deemed all that he was come of men of honour." "Brother," said the queen, "all that ye say I believe, for ever since he was grown he was marvellously witted, and ever he was faithful and true to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925966 | his promise. But I marvel that Sir Kay did mock him and scorn him, and give him the name Fair-hands. Yet Sir Kay named him more justly than he knew, for I dare say, if he be alive, he is as fair-handed a man and as well disposed as any living." "Sister," said Arthur, "by the grace of God he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925967 | shall be found if he be within these seven realms. Meanwhile let us be merry, for he is proved to be a man of honour, and that is my joy." So then goodly letters were made and a messenger sent forth to the Lady Liones, praying her to give best counsel where Sir Gareth might be found. She answered that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925968 | she could not then tell where he was; but she let proclaim a great tournament at her castle, and was sure that Sir Gareth would be heard of there. So King Arthur and all his knights of valour and prowess came together at the Lady Liones' castle by the Isle of Avilion, and great deeds of arms were done there, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925969 | but most of all Sir Gareth gained honour, though no one knew that it was he until a herald rode near him and saw his name written about his helm. Wit ye well the King made great joy when he found Sir Gareth again, and ever he wept as he had been a child. With that came his mother, the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925970 | Queen of Orkney, and when she saw Sir Gareth really face to face she suddenly fell down in a swoon. Then Sir Gareth comforted his mother in such a wise that she recovered, and made good cheer. And the Lady Liones came, among all the ladies there named the fairest and peerless. And there the King asked his nephew Sir | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925971 | Gareth whether he would have that lady to his wife. "My lord," said he, "wit ye well that I love her above all ladies." "Now, fair lady," said King Arthur, "what say ye?" "Most noble King," said Dame Liones, "wit ye well that my Lord Gareth is to me more dear to have and to hold as my husband than | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925972 | any king or prince that is christened, and if ye will suffer him to have his will and free choice, I dare say he will have me." "That is truth," said Sir Gareth, "and if I have not you and hold not you as my wife I wed no lady." "What, nephew," said the King, "is the wind in that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925973 | door! Wit ye well I would not for the stint of my crown be causer to withdraw your hearts. Ye shall have my love and my lordship in the uttermost wise that may lie in my power." Then was there made a provision for the day of marriage, and by the King's advice it should be at Michaelmas following at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925974 | Kink-Kenadon by the seaside. And when the day came the Bishop of Canterbury made the wedding betwixt Sir Gareth and the Lady Liones with great solemnity. And at the same time Gaheris was wedded to Linet. When this solemnisation was done there came in the Green Knight, the Red Knight, and all the others that had yielded themselves to Sir | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925975 | Gareth, and did homage and fealty to hold their lands of him for ever, and desired to serve him at the feast. And the kings and queens, princes, earls, and barons, and many bold knights went unto meat, and well may ye wit that there was all manner of meat plenteously, all manner of revels, and games, with all manner | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925976 | of minstrelsy that was used in those days. So they held the court forty days with great solemnity. And this Sir Gareth was a noble knight, and a well ruled, and fair languaged. HOW YOUNG TRISTRAM SAVED THE LIFE OF THE QUEEN OF LYONESSE There was a king called Meliodas, as likely a knight as any living, and he was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925977 | lord of the country of Lyonesse. At that time King Arthur reigned supreme over England, Wales, Scotland, and many other realms, howbeit there were many lords of countries that held their lands under King Arthur. So also was the King of France subject to him, and the King of Brittany, and all the lordships as far as Rome. The wife | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925978 | of this King Meliodas was a full good and fair lady, called Elizabeth, the sister of King Mark of Cornwall. Well she loved her lord, and he her again, and there was much joy betwixt them. There was a lady in that country who bore ill will towards this king and queen, and therefore upon a day, as he rode | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925979 | on hunting, for he was a great chaser, she by an enchantment made him chase a hart by himself alone till he came to an old castle, where anon she had him taken prisoner. When Queen Elizabeth missed her lord she was nigh out of her wit, and she took a gentlewoman with her and ran into the forest to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925980 | seek him. When she was far in the forest and might go no farther, she sank down exhausted. For the default of help she took cold there, and she soon knew that she must die. So she begged her gentlewoman to commend her to King Meliodas, and to say that she was full sorry to depart out of this world | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925981 | from him, and that their little child, that was to have such sorrow even in his infancy, should be christened Tristram. Therewith this queen gave up the ghost and died. The gentlewoman laid her under the shadow of a great tree, and right so there came the barons, following after the queen. When they saw that she was dead they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925982 | had her carried home, and much dole[] was made for her. The morn after his queen died King Meliodas was delivered out of prison, and the sorrow he made for her, when he was come home, no tongue might tell. He had her richly interred, and afterwards, as she had commanded afore her death, had his child christened Tristram, the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925983 | sorrowful born child. For seven years he remained without a wife, and all that time young Tristram was nourished well. Then, when he wedded King Howell's daughter of Brittany and had other children, the stepmother was wroth that Tristram should be heir to the country of Lyonesse rather than her own son. Wherefore this jealous queen resolved to become rid | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925984 | of her stepson, and she put poison into a silver cup in the chamber where Tristram and her children were together, intending that when Tristram was thirsty he should drink it. But it happened that the queen's own son espied the cup with poison, and, because the child was thirsty and supposed it was good drink, he took of it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925985 | freely. Therewithal he died suddenly, and when the queen wist of the death of her son, wit ye well that she was heavy of heart. But yet the king understood nothing of her treason. Notwithstanding all this the queen would not leave her jealousy, and soon had more poison put in a cup. By fortune King Meliodas, her husband, found | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925986 | the cup where was the poison, and being much thirsty he took to drink thereout. Anon the queen espied him and ran unto him and pulled the cup from him suddenly. The king marvelled why she did so, and remembered how her son was suddenly slain with poison. Then he took her by the hand, and said: "Thou false traitress, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925987 | thou shalt tell me what manner of drink this is." Therewith he pulled out his sword, and swore a great oath that he should slay her if she told him not the truth. Then she told him all, and by the assent of the barons she was condemned to be burned as a traitress, according to the law. A great | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925988 | fire was made, and just as she was at the fire to take her execution young Tristram kneeled afore King Meliodas and besought of him a boon. "I grant it," said the king, whereupon the youth demanded the life of the queen, his stepmother. "That is unrightfully asked," said King Melodias, "for she would have slain thee, if she had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925989 | had her will, and for thy sake most is my cause that she should die." But Tristram besought his father to forgive her, as he himself did, and required him to hold his promise. Then said the king, "Since ye will have it so, I give her to you; go ye to the fire and take her, and do with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925990 | her what ye will." So Sir Tristram went to the fire, and by the commandment of the king delivered her from death. But thereafter King Meliodas would never have aught to do with her, though by the good means of young Tristram he at length forgave her. Ever after in her life she never hated her stepson more, but loved | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925991 | him and had great joy of him, because he saved her from the fire. But the king would not suffer him to abide longer at his court. [] Dole: sorrow; mourning. SIR TRISTRAM'S FIRST BATTLE King Melodias sought out a gentleman that was well learned, and taught, and with him, named Gouvernail, he sent young Tristram away from Lyonesse court | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925992 | into France, to learn the language and customs and deeds of arms. There he learned to be a harper passing all others of his time, and he also applied himself well to the gentlemanly art of hawking and hunting, for he that gentle is will draw unto him gentle qualities and follow the customs of noble gentlemen. The old chronicle | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925993 | saith he adopted good methods for the chase, and the terms he used we have yet in hawking and hunting. Therefore the book of forest sports is called the Book of Sir Tristram. When he well could speak the language and had learned all that he might in that country, he came home again, and remained in Cornwall until he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925994 | was big and strong, of the age of nineteen years, and his father, King Meliodas, had great joy of him. Then it befell that King Anguish of Ireland sent to King Mark of Cornwall for the tribute long paid him, but now seven years behind. King Mark and his barons gave unto the messenger of Ireland the answer that they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925995 | would no tribute pay, and bade him tell his king that if he wished tribute he should send a trusty knight of his land to fight for it against another that Cornwall should find to defend its right. With this the messenger departed into Ireland. When King Anguish understood the answer, he was wonderfully wroth, and called unto him Sir | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925996 | Marhaus, the good and proved knight, brother unto the queen of Ireland, and a knight of the Round Table, and said to him: "Fair brother, I pray you go into Cornwall for my sake, and do battle for the tribute that of right we ought to have." Sir Marhaus was not loath to do battle for his king and his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925997 | land, and in all haste he was fitted with all things that to him needed, and so he departed out of Ireland and arrived in Cornwall even fast by the castle of Tintagil. When King Mark understood that the good and noble knight Sir Marhaus was come to fight for Ireland, he made great sorrow, for he knew no knight | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925998 | that durst have ado with him. Sir Marhaus remained on his ship, and every day he sent word unto King Mark that he should pay the tribute or else find a champion to fight for it with him. Then they of Cornwall let make cries in every place, that what knight would fight to save the tribute should be rewarded | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012925999 | so that he should fare the better the term of his life. But no one came to do the battle, and some counselled King Mark to send to the court of King Arthur to seek Sir Launcelot of the Lake, that at that time was named for the marvellousest knight of all the world. Others said it were labour in | 60 | gutenberg |
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