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  Than the noyse was grete of that knyghtes dethe in the courte, and every man seyde hys advyce. Than com Gryfflet that was but a squyre, and he was but yonge, of the ayge of the kyng Arthur.

  So he besought the kynge for all hys servyse that he had done hym to gyff hym the Order of Knyghthoode.

  ‘Thou arte but yonge and tendir of ayge,’ seyd kynge Arthure, ‘for [22] to take so hyghe an order uppon you.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde Gryfflett, ‘I beseche you to make me knyght.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde Merlion, ‘hit were pité to lose Gryfflet, for he woll be a passynge good man whan he ys of ayge, and he shall abyde with you the terme of hys lyff. And if he aventure his body with yondir knyght at the fountayne, hit ys in grete perell if ever he com agayne, for he ys one of the beste knyghtes of the worlde and the strengyst man of armys.’

  ‘Well,’ seyde Arthure, ‘at thyne owne desire thou shalt be made knyght.’

  So at the desyre of Gryflet the kynge made hym knyght. ‘Now,’ seyde Arthure unto Gryfflet, ‘sith I have made the knyght, thou muste gyff me a gyffte.’

  ‘What ye woll,’ seyde Gryfflet.

  ‘Thou shalt promyse me by thy feyth of thy body, whan thou haste justed with that knyght at the fountayne, whether hit falle ye be on horsebak othir on foote, that ryght so ye shall com agayne unto me withoute makynge ony more debate.’

  ‘I woll promyse you,’ seyde Gryfflet, ‘as youre desire ys.’

  Than toke Gryfflet hys horse in grete haste and dressed hys shelde and toke a spere in hys honde, and so he rode a grete walop tylle he com to the fountain. And thereby he saw a ryche pavilion, and thereby undir a cloth stood an horse well sadeled and brydyled, and on a tre hynge a shelde of dyvers coloures, and a grete spere thereby. Than Gryfflet smote on the shylde with the butte of hys spere, that the shylde felle downe.

  With that the knyght com oute of the pavilion and seyde, ‘Fayre knyght, why smote ye downe my shylde?’

  ‘Sir, for I wolde juste with you,’ seyde Gryfflet.

  ‘Sir, hit ys bettir ye do nat,’ seyde the kynge, ‘for ye ar but yonge and late made knyght, and youre myght ys nat to myne.’

  ‘As for that,’ seyde Gryfflet, ‘I woll jouste with you.’

  ‘That ys me loth,’ seyde the knyght, ‘but sitthyn I muste nedis, I woll dresse me thereto. Of whens be ye?’ seyde the knyght.

  ‘Sir, I am of kynge Arthurs courte.’

  So the two knyghtes ran togydir, that Gryfflettis spere all toshevirde. And therewithall he smote Gryfflet thorow the shelde and the lyffte syde, and brake the spere, that the truncheon stake in hys body, and horse and man felle downe to the erthe.

  Whan the knyght saw hym ly so on the grounde he alyght and was passyng hevy, for he wente he had slayne hym. And than he unlaced hys helme and gate hym wynde; and so with the troncheon he sette hym on his horse and gate hym wynde, and so betoke hym to God and seyde, ‘He had a myghty herte!’ And seyde, ‘If he myght lyve, he wolde preve a passyng good knyght,’ and so rode forthe sir Gryfflet unto the courte, whereof passyng grete dole was made for hym. But thorow good lechis he was heled and saved.

  Ryght so com into the courte twelve knyghtes that were aged men, whiche com frome the Emperoure of Rome. And they asked of Arthure trwage for hys realme, othir ellis the Emperour wolde destroy hym and all hys londe.

  ‘Well,’ seyde kynge Arthure, ye ar messyngers: therefore ye may sey what ye woll, othir ellis ye sholde dye therefore. But thys ys myne answere: I owghe the Emperour no trewage, nother none woll I yelde hym, but on a fayre fylde I shall yelde hym my trwage, that shall be with a sherpe spere othir ellis with a sherpe swerde. And that shall nat be longe, be my fadirs soule Uther!’

  And therewith the messyngers departed passyngly wrothe, and kyng Arthure as wrothe; for in an evyll tyme com they. But the kynge was passyngly wrothe for the hurte of sir Gryfflet, and so he commaunded a prevy man of hys chambir that or hit were day his beste horse and armoure and all that longith to my person be withoute the cité or tomorow day’. Ryght so he mette with his man and his horse, and so mownted up, and dressed his shelde and toke hys spere, and bade hys chambirlayne tary there tylle he com agayne.

  And so Arthure rode a soffte pace tyll hit was day. And than was he ware of thre chorlys chasyng Merlion and wolde have slayne hym. Than the kynge rode unto them and bade hem: ‘Fie, chorlis!’ Than they fered sore whan they sawe a knyght com, and fledde.

  ‘A, Merlion!’ seyde Arthure, ‘here haddist thou be slayne for all thy crafftis, had nat I bene.’

  ‘Nay,’ seyde Merlyon, ‘nat so, for I cowde a saved myselffe and I had wolde. But thou arte more nere thy deth than I am, for thou goste to thy dethe warde, and God be nat thy frende.’

  So as they wente thus talkynge, they com to the fountayne and the ryche pavilion there by hit. Than kynge Arthure was ware where sate a knyght armed in a chayre.

  ‘Sir knyght,’ seyde Arthure, ‘for what cause abydist thou here, that there may no knyght ryde thys way but yf he juste with the? I rede the to leve that custom.’

  ‘Thys custom,’ seyde the knyght, ‘have I used and woll use magré who seyth nay. And who that ys agreved with my custum lette hym amende hit.’

  ‘That shall I amende,’ seyde Arthure.

  ‘And I shall defende the,’ seyde the knyght. And anone he toke hys horse, and dressed hys shelde and toke a grete spere in hys honde, and they come togydir so harde that eythir smote other in mydde the shyldis, that all to-shevird theire speris.

  Therewith anone Arthure pulled oute his swerde.

  ‘Nay, nat so,’ seyde the knyght, hit ys bettir that we twayne renne more togydirs with sherpe sperys.’

  ‘I woll well,’ seyde Arthure, ‘and I had ony me sperys here.’

  ‘I have inow,’ seyde the knyght.

  So there com a squyre and brought forthe two sperys, and Arthure chose one and he another. So they spurred theire horsis and come togydir with all theire myghtes, that eyther brake their sperys to their hondis. Than Arthure sette honde on his swerde.

  ‘Nay,’ seyde the knyght, ye shall do bettir. Ye ar a passyng good juster as ever y mette withall, and onys for the hyghe Order of Knyghthode lette us jouste agayne.’

  ‘I assente me,’ seyde Arthure.

  And anone there was brought forth two grete sperys, and anone every knyght gate a spere; and therewith they ran togiders, that Arthures spere all to-shevirde. But this other knyght smote hym so harde in myddis the shelde that horse and man felle to the erthe.

  And therewith Arthure was egir, and pulde oute hys swerde, and seyde, ‘I woll assay the, sir knyght, on foote, for I have loste the honoure on horsebacke,’ seyde the kynge.

  ‘Sir, I woll be on horsebacke stylle to assay the.’

  Than was Arthure wrothe and dressed his shelde towarde hym with his swerde drawyn. Whan the knyght saw that he alyght, for hym thought no worship to have a knyght at such avayle, he to be on horsebacke and hys adversary on foote, and so he alyght and dressed his shelde unto Arthure. And there began a stronge batayle with many grete strokis, and so they hew with hir swerdis, that the cantels flowe unto the feldys, and muche bloode they bledde bothe, that all the place thereas they fought was ovirbledde with bloode. And thus they fought longe and rested them. And than they went to the batayle agayne, and so hurteled togydirs lyke too rammes that aythir felle to the erthe. So at the laste they smote togyders, that bothe hir swerdys mette evyn togyders. But kynge Arthurs swerde brake in two pecis, wherefore he was hevy.

  Than seyde the knyght unto Arthure, ‘Thou arte in my daungere, whethir me lyste to save the or sle the; and but thou yelde the to me as overcom and recreaunte, thou shalt dey.’

  ‘As for that,’ seyde kynge Arthure, ‘dethe ys wellcom to me whan hit commyth. But to yelde me unto the I woll nat!’

  And therewithall the kynge lepte unto kynge Pellynore, and toke hym by the myddyll, and overthrew hym, and raced of hys helme. So whan the knyght felte that, he was adradde, for he was a passynge bygge man of myg
ht. And so forthewith he wrothe Arthure undir hym and raced of hys helme, and wolde have smytten off hys hede.

  And therewithal! com Merlion and seyde, ‘Knyght, holde thy honde, for and thou sle that knyght thou puttyst thys realme in the gretteste damage that evir was realme: for thys knyght ys a man of more worshyp than thou wotist off.’

  ‘Why, what ys he?’ seyde the knyght.

  ‘For hit ys kynge Arthure,’ seyde Merlyon.

  Than wolde he have slayne hym for drede of hys wratthe, and so he lyffte up hys swerde. And therewith Merlion caste an inchauntemente on the knyght, that he felle to the erthe in a grete slepe. Than Merlion toke up kynge Arthure and rode forthe on the knyghtes horse.

  Alas!’ seyde Arthure, ‘what hast thou do, Merlion? Hast thou slayne thys good knyght by thy craufftis? For there lyvith nat so worshipffull a knyght as he was. For I had levir than the stynte of my londe a yere that he were on lyve.’

  ‘Care ye nat,’ seyde Merlion, ‘for he ys holer than ye: he ys but on slepe and woll awake within thys owre. I tolde you,’ seyde Merlyon, ‘what a knyght he was. Now here had ye be slayne had I nat bene. Also there lyvith nat a bygger knyght than he ys one; and afftir this he shall do you goode servyse. And hys name ys kynge Pellinore, and he shall have two sonnes that shall be passyng good men as ony lyvynge: save one in thys worlde they shall have no felowis of prouesse and of good lyvynge, and hir namys shall be Percyvall and sir Lamorake of Walis. And he shall telle you the name of youre owne son begotyn of youre syster, that shall be the destruccion of all thys realme.’

  Ryght so the kynge and he departed and wente unto an ermytage, [25] and there was a good man and a grete leche. So the ermyte serched the kynges woundis and gaff hym good salves. And so the kyng was there three dayes, and than wer his woundis well amended, that he myght ryde and goo; and so departed.

  And as they rode, kynge Arthur seyde, ‘I have no swerde.’

  “No force,’ seyde Merlyon, ‘hereby ys a swerde that shall be youre, and I may.’

  So they rode tyll they com to a laake that was a fayre watir and brode. And in the myddis Arthure was ware of an arme clothed in whyght samyte, that helde a fayre swerde in that honde.

  ‘Lo,’ seyde Merlion, yondir ys the swerde that I spoke off.’

  So with that they saw a damesell goynge uppon the laake.

  ‘What damoysel is that?’ said Arthur.

  ‘That is the Lady of the Lake,’ seyde Merlion. There ys a grete roche, and therein ys as fayre a paleyce as ony on erthe, and rychely besayne. And thys damesel woll come to you anone, and than speke ye fayre to hir, that she may gyff you that swerde.’

  So anone com this damesel to Arthure and salewed hym, and he hir agayne.

  ‘Damesell,’ seyde Arthure, ‘what swerde ys that yondir that the arme holdith aboven the watir? I wolde hit were myne, for I have no swerde.’

  ‘Sir Arthure,’ seyde the damesel, ‘that swerde ys myne, and if ye woll gyff me a gyffte whan I aske hit you, ye shall have hit.’

  ‘Be my feyth,’ seyde Arthure, ‘I woll gyff you what gyffte that ye woll aske.’

  ‘Well,’ seyde the damesell, ‘go ye into yondir barge, and rowe yourselffe to the swerde, and take hit and the scawberde with you. And I woll aske my gyffte whan I se my tyme.’

  So kynge Arthure and Merlion alyght and tyed their horsis unto two treys; and so they wente into the barge. And whan they come to the swerde that the honde hylde, than kynge Arthure toke hit up by the hondils and bare hit with hym, and the arme and the honde wente undir the watir. And so he com unto the londe and rode forthe.

  And kynge Arthure saw a ryche pavilion.

  ‘What signifieth yondir pavilion?’

  ‘Sir, that ys the knyghtes pavilys that ye fought with laste, sir Pellynore; but he ys oute. He ys nat at home, for he hath had ado with a knyght of youres that hyght Egglame, and they had foughtyn togyddyr; but at the laste Egglame fledde, and ellis he had bene dede, and he hath chaced hym evyn to Carlion. And we shall mete with hym anone in the hygheway.’

  ‘That ys well seyde,’ seyde Arthure. ‘Now have I a swerde I woll wage batayle with hym and be avenged on hym.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde Merlion, ‘nat so; for the knyght ys wery of fyghtynge and chasynge, that ye shall have no worship to have ado with hym. Also he woll nat lyghtly be macched of one knyght lyvynge, and therefore hit ys my counceile: latte hym passe, for he shall do you good servyse in shorte tyme, and hys sonnes afftir hys dayes. Also ye shall se that day in shorte space that ye shall be ryght glad to gyff hym youre syster to wedde for hys good servyse. Therefore have nat ado with hym whan ye se hym.’

  ‘I woll do as ye avise me.’

  Than kynge Arthure loked on the swerde and lyked hit passynge well. Than seyde Merlion, ‘Whethir lyke ye better the swerde othir the scawberde?’

  ‘I lyke bettir the swerde,’ seyde Arthure.

  ‘Ye ar the more unwyse, for the scawberde ys worth ten of the swerde; for whyles ye have the scawberde uppon you, ye shall lose no blood, be ye never so sore wounded. Therefore kepe well the scawberde allweyes with you.’

  So they rode unto Carlion; and by the wey they mette with kynge Pellinore. But Merlion had done suche a crauffte unto kynge Pellinore saw nat kynge Arthure, and so passed by withoute ony wordis.

  ‘I mervayle,’ seyde Arthure, ‘that the knyght wold nat speke.”Sir, he saw you nat; for had he seyne you, ye had nat lyghtly parted.’

  So they com unto Carlion, wherof hys knyghtes were passynge glad. And whan they herde of hys adventures, they mervayled that he wolde joupardé his person so alone. But all men of worship seyde hit was myrry to be under such a chyfftayne that wolde putte hys person in adventure as other poure knyghtis ded.

  So thys meanewhyle com a messyngere frome kynge Royns of Northe Walis, and kynge he was of all Irelonde and of lies. And this was hys message, gretynge well kyng Arthure on thys maner of wyse, sayng that kynge Royns had discomfite and overcom eleven kyngis, and every of them dud hym omage. And that was thus to sey they gaff theire beardes clene flayne off, as much as was bearde; wherefore the messyngere com for kynge Arthures berde. For kynge Royns had purfilde a mantell with kynges berdis, and there lacked one place of the mantell; wherefore he sente for hys bearde, othir ellis he wolde entir into his londis and brenne and sle, and nevir leve tylle he hathe the hede and the bearde bothe.

  ‘Well,’ seyde Arthure, ‘thou haste seyde thy message, the whych ys the moste orgulus and lewdiste message that evir man had isente unto a kynge. Also thou mayste se my bearde ys full yonge yet to make off a purphile. But telle thou thy kynge thus, that I owghe hym none homage ne none of myne elders; but or hit be longe to, he shall do me omage on bothe his knees, other ellis he shall lese hys hede, by the fayth of my body! For thys ys the moste shamefullyste message that ever y herde speke off. I have aspyed thy kynge never yette mette with worshipfull man. But telle hym I woll have hys hede withoute he do me omage.’

  Than thys messyngere departed.

  ‘Now ys there ony here that knowyth kynge Royns?’

  Than answerde a knyght that hyght Naram, ‘Sir, I know the kynge well: he ys a passynge good man of hys body as fewe bene lyvynge and a passynge proude man. And, sir, doute ye nat he woll make on you a myghty puyssaunce.’

  ‘Well,’ seyde Arthure, ‘I shall ordayne for hym in shorte tyme.’

  [28] Than kynge Arthure lette sende for all the children that were borne in May-day, begotyn of lordis and borne of ladyes; for Merlyon tolde kynge Arthure that he that sholde destroy hym and all the londe sholde be borne on May-day. Wherefore he sente for hem all in payne of dethe, and so there were founde many lordis sonnys and many knyghtes sonnes, and all were sente unto the kynge. And so was Mordred sente by kynge Lottis wyff. And all were putte in a shyppe to the se; and som were four wekis olde and som lesse. And so by fortune the shyppe drove unto a castelle, and was all to-ryven and destroyed the moste party, save that Mordred was cast up, and a good man founde hym, and fostird hym tylle he was fourtene
yere of age, and than brought hym to the courte, as hit rehersith aftirward and towarde the ende of the MORTE ARTHURE.

  So, many lordys and barownes of thys realme were displeased for hir children were so loste; and many putte the wyght on Merlion more than of Arthure. So what for drede and for love, they helde their pece.

  But whan the messynge com to the kynge Royns, than was he woode oute of mesure, and purveyde hym for a grete oste, as hit rehersith aftir in the BOOKE OF BALYNE LE SAVEAGE that folowith nexte aftir: that was the adventure how Balyne gate the swerde.

  II. BALIN OR THE KNIGHT WITH THE TWO SWORDS

  [1] AFFTIR the deth of Uther regned Arthure, hys son, which had grete warre in hys dayes for to gete all Inglonde into hys honde; for there were many kyngis within the realme of Inglonde and of Scotlonde, Walys and Cornuwayle.

  So hit befelle on a tyme whan kynge Arthure was at London, ther com a knyght and tolde the kynge tydyngis how the kynge Royns of Northe Walis had rered a grete numbir of peple and were entred in the londe and brente and slew the kyngis trew lyege people.

  ‘Iff thys be trew,’ seyde Arthure, ‘hit were grete shame unto myne astate but that he were myghtyly withstonde.’

  ‘Hit ys trouthe,’ seyde the knyght, ‘for I saw the oste myselff.’’Well,’ seyde the kynge, ‘I shall ordayne to wythstonde hys malice.’ Than the kynge lette make a cry that all the lordis, knyghtes and jantilmen of armys sholde draw unto the castell called Camelot in the dayes, and there the kynge wolde lette make a counceile generall and a grete justis. So whan the kynge was com thidir with all his baronage and logged as they semed beste, also there was com a damoisel the which was sente frome the grete Lady Lyle of Avilion. And whan she com before kynge Arthure she tolde fro whens she com, and how she was sente on message unto hym for thys causis. Than she lette hir mantell falle that was rychely furred, and than was she gurde with a noble swerde whereof the kynge had mervayle and seyde, ‘Damesel, for what cause ar ye gurte with that swerde? Hit besemyth you nought.’

  ‘Now shall I telle you,’ seyde the damesell. ‘Thys swerde that I am gurte withall doth me grete sorow and comberaunce, for I may nat be delyverde of thys swerde but by a knyght, and he muste be a passynge good man of hys hondys and of hys dedis, and withoute velony other trechory and withoute treson. And if I may fynde such a knyght that hath all thes vertues he may draw oute thys swerde oute of the sheethe. For I have bene at kynge Royns, for hit was tolde me there were passyng good knyghtes; and he and all his knyghtes hath assayde and none can spede.’