The Story of King Arthur and his Knights
to partake of the food. And when she had done so, and had drunk some of
the wine, she found herself to be greatly refreshed and began to take to
herself more heart of grace. Thereupon, beholding her so far recovered,
Sir Pellias again demanded of her what was her trouble and besought her
that she would open her heart unto him.
So, being encouraged by his cheerful words, she told to Sir Pellias the
trouble that had brought her to that pass.
[Sidenote: _The sorrowful lady telleth her story._]
“Sir Knight,” she said, “the place where I dwell is a considerable
distance from this. Thence I came this morning with a very good knight,
hight Sir Brandemere, who is my husband. We have been married but for a
little over four weeks, so that our happiness until this morning was as
yet altogether fresh with us. Now this morning Sir Brandemere would take
me out a-hunting at the break of day, and so we went forth with a
brachet of which my knight was wonderfully fond. So, coming to a certain
place in the forest, there started up of a sudden from before us a doe,
which same the brachet immediately pursued with great vehemence of
outcry. Thereupon, I and my lord and this esquire followed thereafter
with very great spirit and enjoyment of the chase. Now, when we had
followed the doe and the hound for a great distance--the hound pursuing
the doe with a great passion of eagerness--we came to a certain place
where we beheld before us a violent stream of water which was crossed
by a long and narrow bridge. And we beheld that upon the other side of
the stream there stood a strong castle with seven towers, and that the
castle was built up upon the rocks in such a way that the rocks and the
castle appeared to be altogether like one rock.
“Now, as we approached the bridge aforesaid, lo! the portcullis of the
castle was lifted up and the drawbridge was let fall very suddenly and
with a great noise, and there immediately issued forth from out of the
castle a knight clad altogether in red. And all the trappings and the
furniture of his horse were likewise of red; and the spear which he bore
in his hand was of ash-wood painted red. And he came forth very
terribly, and rode forward so that he presently stood at the other end
of that narrow bridge. Thereupon he called out aloud to Sir Brandemere,
my husband, saying: ‘Whither wouldst thou go, Sir Knight?’ And unto him
Sir Brandemere made reply: ‘Sir, I would cross this bridge, for my
hound, which I love exceedingly, hath crossed here in pursuit of a doe.’
Then that Red Knight cried out in a loud voice, ‘Sir Knight, thou comest
not upon this bridge but at thy peril; for this bridge belongeth unto
me, and whosoever would cross it must first overthrow me or else he may
not cross.’
“Now, my husband, Sir Brandemere, was clad at that time only in a light
raiment such as one might wear for hunting or for hawking; only that he
wore upon his head a light bascinet enwrapped with a scarf which I had
given him. Ne’theless, he was so great of heart that he would not abide
any challenge such as that Red Knight had given unto him; wherefore,
bidding me and this esquire (whose name is Ponteferet) to remain upon
the farther side of the bridge, he drew his sword and rode forward to
the middle of the bridge with intent to force a way across if he was
able so to do. Whereupon, seeing that to be his intent, that Red Knight,
clad all in complete armor, cast aside his spear and drew his sword and
rode forward to meet my knight. So they met in the middle of the bridge,
and when they had thus met that Red Knight lifted himself in his stirrup
and smote my husband, Sir Brandemere, upon the crown of his bascinet
with his sword. And I beheld the blade of the Red Knight’s sword that it
cut through the bascinet of Sir Brandemere and deep into his brain-pan,
so that the blood ran down upon the knight’s face in great abundance.
Then Sir Brandemere straightway fell down from his horse and lay as
though he were gone dead.
“Having thus overthrown him, that Red Knight dismounted from his horse
and lifted up Sir Brandemere upon the horse whence he had fallen so
that he lay across the saddle. Then taking both horses by the bridles
the Red Knight led them straight back across the bridge and so into his
castle. And as soon as he had entered into the castle the portcullis
thereof was immediately closed behind him and the drawbridge was raised.
Nor did he pay any heed whatever either to me or to the esquire
Ponteferet, but he departed leaving us without any word of cheer; nor do
I now know whether my husband, Sir Brandemere, is living or dead, or
what hath befallen him.”
And as the lady spake these words, lo! the tears again fell down her
face in great abundance.
[Sidenote: _Sir Pellias assumes an adventure upon relief of the
sorrowful lady._]
Then Sir Pellias was very much moved with compassion, wherefore he said,
“Lady, thy case is, indeed, one of exceeding sorrowfulness, and I am
greatly grieved for thee. And, indeed, I would fain aid thee to all the
extent that is in my power. So, if thou wilt lead me to where is this
bridge and that grimly castle of which thou speakest, I make thee my vow
that I will assay to the best of my endeavor to learn of the whereabouts
of thy good knight, and as to what hath befallen him.”
“Sir,” said the lady, “I am much beholden unto thee for thy good will.
Yet thou mayst not hope for success shouldst thou venture to undertake
so grave an adventure as that without either arms or armor for to defend
thyself. For consider how grievously that Red Knight hath served my
husband, Sir Brandemere, taking no consideration as to his lack of arms
or defence. Wherefore, it is not likely that he will serve thee any more
courteously.” And to the lady’s words Parcenet also lifted up a great
voice, bidding Sir Pellias not to be so unwise as to do this thing that
he was minded to do. And so did Ponteferet, the esquire, also call out
upon Sir Pellias, that he should not do this thing, but that he should
at least take arms to himself ere he entered upon this adventure.
But to all that they said Sir Pellias replied, “Stay me not in that
which I would do, for I do tell you all that I have several times
undertaken adventures even more perilous than this and yet I have
’scaped with no great harm to myself.” Nor would he listen to anything
that the lady and the damsel might say, but, arising from that place, he
aided the lady and the damsel to mount their palfreys. Then mounting his
own steed, and the esquire and the pages having mounted their steeds,
the whole party immediately departed from that place.
[Sidenote: _They come to the castle of the Red Knight._]
So they journeyed for a great distance through the forest, the esquire,
Ponteferet, directing them how to proceed in such a way as should bring
them by and by to the castle of the Red Knight. So, at last they came
to a more open place in that wilderness where was a steep and naked
hill before them. And when they had reached to the top of that hill
they perceived beneath them a river, very turbulent and violent.
Likewise they saw that the river was spanned by a bridge, exceedingly
straight and narrow, and that upon the farther side of the bridge and
of the river there stood a very strong castle with seven tall towers.
Moreover the castle and the towers were built up upon the rocks, very
lofty and high, so that it was hard to tell where the rocks ceased and
the walls began, wherefore the towers and the walls appeared to be
altogether one rock of stone.
Then the esquire, Ponteferet, pointed with his finger, and said, “Sir
Knight, yonder is the castle of the Red Knight, and into it he bare Sir
Brandemere after he had been so grievously wounded.” Then Sir Pellias
said unto the lady, “Lady, I will presently inquire as to thy husband’s
welfare.”
Therewith he set spurs to his horse and rode down the hill toward the
bridge with great boldness. And when he had come nigher to the bridge,
lo! the portcullis of the castle was lifted and the drawbridge was let
fall with a great noise and tumult, and straightway there issued forth
from out of the castle a knight clad all in armor and accoutrements of
red, and this knight came forward with great speed toward the bridge’s
head. Then, when Sir Pellias saw him approaching so threateningly, he
said unto those who had followed him down the hill: “Stand fast where ye
are and I will go forth to bespeak this knight, and inquire into the
matter of that injury which he hath done unto Sir Brandemere.” Upon this
the esquire, Ponteferet, said unto him, “Stay, Sir Knight, thou wilt be
hurt.” But Sir Pellias said, “Not so, I shall not be hurt.”
So he went forth very boldly upon the bridge, and when the Red Knight
saw him approach, he said, “Ha! who art thou who darest to come thus
upon my bridge?”
Unto him Sir Pellias made reply, “It matters not who I am, but thou art
to know, thou discourteous knight, that I am come to inquire of thee
where thou hast disposed of that good knight Sir Brandemere, and to ask
of thee why thou didst entreat him so grievously a short time since.”
At this the Red Knight fell very full of wrath. “Ha! ha!” he cried
vehemently, “that thou shalt presently learn to thy great sorrow, for as
I have served him, so shall I quickly serve thee, so that in a little
while I shall bring thee unto him; then thou mayst ask him whatsoever
thou dost list. But seeing that thou art unarmed and without defence, I
would not do thee any bodily ill, wherefore I demand of thee that thou
shalt presently surrender thyself unto me, otherwise it will be very
greatly to thy pain and sorrow if thou compellest me to use force for to
constrain thy surrender.”
Then Sir Pellias said, “What! what! Wouldst thou thus assail a knight
who is altogether without arms or defence as I am?” And the Red Knight
said, “Assuredly shall I do so if thou dost not immediately yield
thyself unto me.”
“Then,” quoth Pellias, “thou art not fit for to be dealt with as
beseemeth a tried knight. Wherefore, should I encounter thee, thy
overthrow must be of such a sort as may shame any belted knight who
weareth golden spurs.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Pellias overthroweth the Red Knight with a great
stone._]
Thereupon he cast about his eyes for a weapon to fit his purpose, and he
beheld how that a certain huge stone was loose upon the coping of the
bridge. Now this stone was of such a size that five men of usual
strength could hardly lift it. But Sir Pellias lifted it forth from its
place with great ease, and, raising it with both hands, he ran quickly
toward that Red Knight and flung the rock at him with much force. And
the stone smote the Red Knight upon the middle of the shield and drave
it back upon his breast, with great violence. And the force of the blow
drave the knight backward from his saddle, so that he fell down to the
earth from his horse with a terrible tumult and lay upon the bridgeway
like one who was altogether dead.
And when they within the castle who looked forth therefrom, saw that
blow, and when they beheld the overthrow of the Red Knight, they lifted
up their voices in great lamentation so that the outcry thereof was
terrible to hear.
But Sir Pellias ran with all speed to the fallen knight and set his knee
upon his breast. And he unlaced his helmet and lifted it. And he beheld
that the face of the knight was strong and comely and that he was not
altogether dead.
So when Sir Pellias saw that the Red Knight was not dead, and when he
perceived that he was about to recover his breath from the blow that he
had suffered, he drew that knight’s misericordia from its sheath and set
the point to his throat, so that when the Red Knight awoke from his
swoon he beheld death, in the countenance of Sir Pellias and in the