Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table 15

Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table 15

"Most noble Knight Sir Lancelot, I was your lover, whom men called the

Fair Maid of Astolat: therefore unto all ladies I make my moan; yet pray

for my soul, and bury me. This is my last request. Pray for my soul, Sir

Lancelot, as thou art peerless."

 

This was all the letter, and the King and Queen and all the Knights wept

when they heard it.

 

"Let Sir Lancelot be sent for," presently said the King, and when Sir

Lancelot came the letter was read to him also.

 

"My lord Arthur," said he, after he had heard it all, "I am right

grieved at the death of this damsel. God knows I was not, of my own

will, guilty of her death, and that I will call on her brother, Sir

Lavaine, to witness. She was both fair and good, and much was I beholden

to her, but she loved me out of measure."

 

"You might have been a little gentle with her," answered the Queen, "and

have found some way to save her life."

 

"Madam," said Sir Lancelot, "she would have nothing but my love, and

that I could not give her, though I offered her a thousand pounds yearly

if she should set her heart on any other Knight. For, Madam, I love not

to be forced to love; love must arise of itself, and not by command."

 

"That is truth," replied the King, "love is free in himself, and never

will be bounden; for where he is bounden he looseth himself. But, Sir

Lancelot, be it your care to see that the damsel is buried as is

fitting."

 

 

 

 

PART IV.

 

 

 

 

LANCELOT AND GUENEVERE.

 

 

Now we come to the sorrowful tale of Lancelot and Guenevere, and of the

death of King Arthur. Already it has been told that King Arthur had

wedded Guenevere, the daughter of Leodegrance, King of Cornwall, a

damsel who seemed made of all the flowers, so fair was she, and slender,

and brilliant to look upon. And the Knights in her father's Court bowed

down before her, and smote their hardest in the jousts where Guenevere

was present, but none dared ask her in marriage till Arthur came. Like

the rest he saw and loved her, but, unlike them, he was a King, and

might lift his eyes even unto Guenevere. The maiden herself scarcely saw

or spoke to him, but did her father's bidding in all things, and when he

desired her to make everything ready to go clothed as beseemed a

Princess to King Arthur's Court, her heart beat with joy at the sight of

rich stuffs and shining jewels. Then one day there rode up to the Castle

a band of horsemen sent by the King to bring her to his Court, and at

the head of them Sir Lancelot du Lake, friend of King Arthur, and winner

of all the jousts and tournaments where Knights meet to gain honour. Day

by day they rode together apart and he told her tales of gallant deeds

done for love of beautiful ladies, and they passed under trees gay with

the first green of spring, and over hyacinths covering the earth with

sheets of blue, till at sunset they drew rein before the silken

pavilion, with the banner of Uther Pendragon floating on the top. And

Guenevere's heart went out to Lancelot before she knew. One evening she

noted, far across the plain, towers and buildings shining in the sun,

and an array of horsemen ride forth to meet her. One stopped before her

dazzled eyes, and leaping from his horse bowed low. Arthur had come to

welcome her, and do her honour, and to lead her home. But looking up at

him, she thought him cold, and, timid and alone, her thoughts turned

again to Lancelot. After that the days and years slipped by, and these

two were ever nearest the King, and in every time of danger the King

cried for Lancelot, and trusted his honour and the Queen's to him. Sir

Lancelot spoke truly when he told Elaine that he had never worn the

badge of lady or maiden, but for all that every one looked on Sir

Lancelot as the Queen's Knight, who could do no worship to any other

woman. The King likewise held Sir Lancelot bound to fight the Queen's

battles, and if he was absent on adventures of his own, messengers

hastened to bring him back, as in the fight with Sir Mador. So things

went on for many years, and the King never guessed that the Queen loved

Lancelot best.

 

It befell one spring, in the month of May, that Queen Guenevere

bethought herself that she would like to go a-maying in the woods and

fields that lay round the City of Westminster on both sides of the

river. To this intent she called her own especial Knights, and bade them

be ready the next morning clothed all in green, whether of silk or

cloth, "and," said she, "I shall bring with me ten ladies, and every

Knight shall have a lady behind him, and be followed by a Squire and two

yeomen, and I will that you shall all be well horsed." Thus it was done,

and the ten Knights, arrayed in fresh green, the emblem of the spring,

rode with the Queen and her ladies in the early dawn, and smelt the

sweet of the year, and gathered flowers which they stuck in their

girdles and doublets. The Queen was as happy and light of heart as the

youngest maiden, but she had promised to be with the King at the hour of

ten, and gave the signal for departure unwillingly. The Knights were

mounting their horses, when suddenly out of a wood on the other side

rode Sir Meliagraunce, who for many years had loved the Queen, and had

sought an occasion to carry her off, but found none so fair as this. Out

of the forest he rode, with two score men in armour, and a hundred

archers behind him, and bade the Queen and her followers stay where they

were, or they would fare badly. "Traitor," cried the Queen, "what evil

deed would you do? You are a King's son and a Knight of the Round Table,

yet you seek to shame the man who gave you knighthood. But I tell you

that you may bring dishonour on yourself, but you will bring none on me,

for rather would I cut my throat in twain."

 

"As for your threats, Madam, I pay them no heed," returned Sir

Meliagraunce; "I have loved you many a year, and never could I get you

at such an advantage as I do now, and therefore I will take you as I

find you." Then all the Knights spoke together saying, "Sir

Meliagraunce, bethink yourself that in attacking men who are unarmed you

put not only our lives in peril but your own honour. Rather than allow

the Queen to be shamed we will each one fight to the death, and if we

did aught else we should dishonour our knighthood for ever."

 

"Fight as well as you can," answered Sir Meliagraunce, "and keep the

Queen if you may." So the Knights of the Round Table drew their swords,

and the men of Sir Meliagraunce ran at them with spears; but the Knights

stood fast, and clove the spears in two before they touched them. Then

both sides fought with swords, and Sir Kay and five other Knights were

felled to the ground with wounds all over their bodies. The other four

fought long, and slew forty of the men and archers of Sir Meliagraunce;

but in the end they too were overcome. When the Queen saw that she cried

out for pity and sorrow, "Sir Meliagraunce, spare my noble Knights and I

will go with you quietly on this condition, that their lives be saved,

and that wherever you may carry me they shall follow. For I give you

warning that I would rather slay myself than go with you without my

Knights, whose duty it is to guard me."

 

"Madam," replied Sir Meliagraunce, "for your sake they shall be led with

you into my own castle, if you will consent to ride with me." So the

Queen prayed the four Knights to fight no more, and she and they would

not part, and to this, though their hearts were heavy, they agreed.

 

The fight being ended the wounded Knights were placed on horseback, some

sitting, some lying across the saddle, according as they were hurt, and

Sir Meliagraunce forbade any one to leave the castle (which had been a

gift to him from King Arthur), for sore he dreaded the vengeance of Sir

Lancelot if this thing should reach his ears. But the Queen knew well

what was passing in his mind, and she called a little page who served

her in her chamber and desired him to take her ring and hasten with all

speed to Sir Lancelot, "and pray him, if he loves me, to rescue me.

Spare not your horse, neither for water nor for land." And the boy bided

his time, then mounted his horse, and rode away as fast as he might. Sir

Meliagraunce spied him as he flew, and knew whither he went, and who had

sent him; and he commanded his best archers to ride after him and shoot

him ere he reached Sir Lancelot. But the boy escaped their arrows, and

vanished from their sight. Then Sir Meliagraunce said to the Queen, "You

seek to betray me, Madam; but Sir Lancelot shall not so lightly come at

you." And he bade his men follow him to the castle in haste, and left an

ambush of thirty archers in the road, charging them that if a Knight

mounted on a white horse came along that way they were to slay the horse

but to leave the man alone, as he was hard to overcome. After Sir

Meliagraunce had given these orders his company galloped fast to the

castle; but the Queen would listen to nothing that he said, demanding

always that her Knights and ladies should be lodged with her, and Sir

Meliagraunce was forced to let her have her will.

 

[Illustration: GUENEVERE SENDS HER PAGE TO LANCELOT FOR HELP.]

 

The castle of Sir Meliagraunce was distant seven miles from Westminster,

so it did not take long for the boy to find Sir Lancelot, and to give

him the Queen's ring and her message. "I am ashamed for ever," said Sir

Lancelot, "unless I can rescue that noble lady," and while he put on his

armour, he called to the boy to tell him the whole adventure. When he

was armed and mounted, he begged the page to warn Sir Lavaine where he

had gone, and for what cause. "And pray him, as he loves me, that he

follow me to the castle of Sir Meliagraunce, for if I am a living man,

he will find me there."

 

Sir Lancelot put his horse into the water at Westminster, and he swam

straight over to Lambeth, and soon after he landed he found traces of

the fight. He rode along the track till he came to the wood, where the

archers were lying waiting for him, and when they saw him, they bade him

on peril of his life to go no further along that path.

 

"Why should I, who am a Knight of the Round Table, turn out of any path

that pleases me?" asked Sir Lancelot.

 

[Illustration: THE ARCHERS THREATEN LANCELOT]

 

"Either you will leave this path or your horse will be slain," answered

the archers.

 

"You may slay my horse if you will," said Sir Lancelot, "but when my

horse is slain I shall fight you on foot, and so would I do, if there

were five hundred more of you." With that they smote the horse with

their arrows, but Sir Lancelot jumped off, and ran into the wood, and

they could not catch him. He went on some way, but the ground was rough,

and his armour was heavy, and sore he dreaded the treason of Sir