Le Morte Darthur
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 nigh a forty knights shamefully with full rich arms. Then Sir
Beaumains abated his countenance, and said, What meaneth this? Fair
Sir, said the damsel, abate not your cheer for all this sight, for ye
must encourage yourself, or else ye be all shent, for all these knights
came hither to this siege to rescue my sister dame Liones, and when the
red knight of the red lawn 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 you better. Now Jesu defend me, said Sir
Beaumains, from such a villainous death and disgrace of arms, for
rather than I should so be farewithal, I would rather be slain manly in
plain battle. So were ye better, said the damsel; for trust not in him
is no courtesy, but all goeth to the death or shameful murder; and that
is pity, for he is a full likely man, well made of body, and a full
noble knight of prowess, and a lord of great lands and possessions.
Truly, said Beaumains, he may well be a good knight, but he useth
shameful customs, and it is marvel that he endureth so long, that none
of the noble knights of my lord Arthur have not dealt with him. And
then they rode to the dikes, and saw them double diked with full
warlike walls, and there were lodged many great lords nigh the walls,
and there was great noise of minstrelsy, and the sea betid upon the one
side of the walls, where were many ships and mariners’ noise, with
‘hale and how.’ And also, there was fast by a sycamore tree, and there
hung a horn, the greatest that ever they saw, of an elephant’s bone,
and this knight of the red lawn had hanged it up there, that if there
came 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 encreaseth 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 so the horn eagerly
that all the siege and the castle rang thereof. And then there lept out
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 armour, 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.
CHAP. XVI.
_How the two knights met together, and of their talking, and how they
began their 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 Liones. Where? said Beaumains. Yonder, said the damsel,
and pointed with her finger. That is truth, said Beaumains. She
beseemeth 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 Liones made courtesy to
him down to the earth, with holding up both their 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, me seemeth it was but waste labour, for she
loveth none of thy fellowship, and thou to love that loveth not thee,
is but great folly. For and 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 fellowship. And
therefore wit thou well, thou red knight of the red lawns, I love her,
and will rescue her, or else to die. Sayest thou that, said the red
knight, me seemeth thou ought of reason to beware by yonder knights
that thou sawest hang upon yonder trees. Fie for shame, said Beaumains,
that ever thou shouldest say or do so evil, for in that thou shamest
thyself and knighthood, and thou mayest be sure there will no lady love
thee that knoweth thy wicked customs. And now thou weenest that the
sight of these hanged knights should fear me. 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 thou were a well-ruled
knight. Make thee ready, said the red knight of the red lawns, and talk
no longer with me. Then Sir Beaumains bad the damsel go from him, and
then they put their spears in their rests, and came together with all
their might that they had both, and either smote other in the midst of
their shields, that the breastplates, horsegirths, and cruppers brast,
and fell to the earth both, and 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 in the siege wend their necks had been broken,
and then many a stranger and other said the strange knight was a big
man and a noble juster, for or now we saw never no knight match the red
knight of the red lawns: thus they said, both within the castle and
without. Then lightly they 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 backward both two strides, and then they recovered both, and
hewed great pieces of their harness and their shields, that a great
part fell into the fields.
CHAP. XVII.
_How after long fighting Beaumains overcame the knight and would have
slain him, but at the request of the lords he saved his life, and
made him to yield him to the lady._
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, as two boars. And
at sometime they took their run as it had been two rams, and hurtled
together that sometime they fell groveling to the earth: and at
sometime they were so amazed that either took other’s sword in stead of
his own.
Thus they endured till even-song time, that there was none that beheld
them might know whether was like to win the battle; and their armour
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 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 them on again at their
commandment. And then when Sir Beaumains’ helm was off he looked by to
the window, and there he saw the fair lady dame Liones; and she made
him such countenance that his heart waxed light and jolly; and
therewith he bade the red knight of the red lawns make him ready, and
let us do the battle to the utterance. I will well, said the knight.
And then they laced up their helms, and their pages avoided, and they
stept together and fought freshly. But the red knight of the red lawns
awaited him, and at an overthwart 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 groveling 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 lept 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 labour daily
in arms until I met with one of them, and all that I might overcome I
should put them unto a villainous death; and this is the cause that I
have put all these knights to death, and so I ensured her to do all the
villainy 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 encreaseth till noon, and all this time have I seven men’s
strength.
CHAP. XVIII.
_How the knight yielded him, and how Beaumains made him to go unto king
Arthur’s court, and to cry Sir Launcelot mercy._
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 him, I will well; with this