adventures of sir beaumains or sir gareth

again king arthur held the feast of pentecost, with all the table round, and after his custom sat in the banquet hall, before beginning meat, waiting for some adventure. then came there to the king a squire and said, “lord, now may ye go to meat, for here a damsel cometh with some strange adventure.” so the king was glad, and sat down to meat.

anon the damsel came in and saluted him, praying him for succour. “what wilt thou?” said the king. “lord,” answered she, “my mistress is a lady of great renown, but is at this time besieged by a tyrant, who will not suffer her to go out of her castle; and because here in thy court the knights are called the noblest in the world, i come to pray thee for thy succour.” “where dwelleth your lady?” answered the king. “what is her name, and who is he that hath besieged her?” “for her name,” replied the damsel, “as yet i may not tell it; but she is a lady of worship and great lands. the tyrant that besiegeth her and wasteth her lands is called the red knight of the redlands.” “i know him not,” said arthur. “but i know him, lord,” said sir gawain, “and he is one of the most perilous knights in all the world. men say he hath the strength of seven; and from him i myself once hardly escaped with life.” “fair damsel,” said the king, “there be here many knights that would gladly do their uttermost to rescue your lady, but unless ye tell me her name, and where she dwelleth, none of my knights shall go with you by my leave.”

now, there was a stripling at the court called beaumains, who served in the king’s kitchen, a fair youth and of great stature. twelve months before this time he had come to the king as he sat at meat, at whitsuntide, and prayed three gifts of him. and being asked what gifts, he answered, “as for the first gift i will ask it now, but the other two gifts i will ask on this day twelve months, wheresoever ye hold your high feast.” then said king arthur, “what is thy first request?” “this, lord,” said he, “that thou wilt give me meat and drink enough for twelve months from this time, and then will i ask my other two gifts.” and the king seeing that he was a goodly youth, and deeming that he was come of honourable blood, had granted his desire, and given him into the charge of sir key, the steward. but sir key scorned and mocked the youth, calling him beaumains, because his hands were large and fair, and putting him into the kitchen, where he had served for twelve months as a scullion, and, in spite of all his churlish treatment, had faithfully obeyed sir key. but sir lancelot and sir gawain were angered when they saw sir key so churlish to a youth that had so worshipful a bearing, and ofttimes had they given him gold and clothing.

and now at this time came young beaumains to the king, while the damsel was there, and said, “lord, now i thank thee well and heartily that i have been twelve months kept in thy kitchen, and have had full sustenance. now will i ask my two remaining gifts.” “ask,” said king arthur, “on my good faith.” “these, lord,” said he, “shall be my two gifts—the one, that thou wilt grant me this adventure of the damsel, for to me of right it belongeth; and the other, that thou wilt bid sir lancelot make me a knight, for of him only will i have that honour; and i pray that he may ride after me and make me a knight when i require him.” “be it as thou wilt,” replied the king. but thereupon the damsel was full wroth, and said, “shall i have a kitchen page for this adventure?” and so she took horse and departed.

then came one to beaumains, and told him that a dwarf with a horse and armour were waiting for him. and all men marvelled whence these things came. but when he was on horseback and armed, scarce any one at the court was a goodlier man than he. and coming into the hall, he took his leave of the king and sir gawain, and prayed sir lancelot to follow him. so he rode after the damsel, and many of the court went out to see him, so richly arrayed and horsed; yet he had neither shield nor spear. then sir key cried, “i also will ride after the kitchen boy, and see whether he will obey me now.” and taking his horse, he rode after him, and said, “know ye not me, beaumains?” “yea,” said he, “i know thee for an ungentle knight, therefore beware of me.” then sir key put his spear in rest and ran at him, but beaumains rushed upon him with his sword in his hand, and therewith, putting aside the spear, struck sir key so sorely in the side, that he fell down, as if dead. then he alighted, and took his shield and spear, and bade his dwarf ride upon sir key’s horse.

by this time, sir lancelot had come up, and beaumains offering to tilt with him, they both made ready. and their horses came together so fiercely that both fell to the earth, full sorely bruised. then they arose, and beaumains, putting up his shield before him, offered to fight sir lancelot, on foot. so they rushed upon each other, striking, and thrusting, and parrying, for the space of an hour. and lancelot marvelled at the strength of beaumains, for he fought more like a giant than a man, and his fighting was passing fierce and terrible. so, at the last, he said, “fight not so sorely, beaumains; our quarrel is not such that we may not now cease.” “true,” answered beaumains; “yet it doth me good to feel thy might, though i have not yet proved my uttermost.” “by my faith,” said lancelot, “i had as much as i could do to save myself from you unshamed, therefore be in no doubt of any earthly knight.” “may i, then, stand as a proved knight?” said beaumains. “for that will i be thy warrant,” answered lancelot. “then, i pray thee,” said he, “give me the order of knighthood.” “first, then, must thou tell me of thy name and kindred,” said sir lancelot. “if thou wilt tell them to no other, i will tell thee,” answered he. “my name is gareth of orkney, and i am own brother to sir gawain.” “ah!” said sir lancelot, “at that am i full glad; for, truly, i deemed thee to be of gentle blood.” so then he knighted beaumains, and, after that, they parted company, and sir lancelot, returning to the court, took up sir key on his shield. and hardly did sir key escape with his life, from the wound beaumains had given him; but all men blamed him for his ungentle treatment of so brave a knight.

then sir beaumains rode forward, and soon overtook the damsel; but she said to him, in scorn, “return again, base kitchen page! what art thou, but a washer-up of dishes!” “damsel,” said he, “say to me what thou wilt, i will not leave thee; for i have undertaken to king arthur to relieve thy adventure, and i will finish it to the end, or die.” “thou finish my adventure!” said she—“anon, thou shalt meet one, whose face thou wilt not even dare to look at.” “i shall attempt it,” answered he. so, as they rode thus, into a wood, there met them a man, fleeing, as for his life. “whither fleest thou?” said sir beaumains. “o lord!” he answered, “help me; for, in a valley hard by, there are six thieves, who have taken my lord, and bound him, and i fear will slay him.” “bring me thither,” said sir beaumains. so they rode to the place, and sir beaumains rushed after the thieves, and smote one, at the first stroke, so that he died; and then, with two other blows, slew a second and third. then fled the other three, and sir beaumains rode after them, and overtook and slew them all. then he returned and unbound the knight. and the knight thanked him, and prayed him to ride to his castle, where he would reward him. “sir,” answered sir beaumains, “i will have no reward of thee, for but this day was i made knight by the most noble sir lancelot; and besides, i must go with this damsel.” then the knight begged the damsel to rest that night at his castle. so they all rode thither, and ever the damsel scoffed at sir beaumains as a kitchen boy, and laughed at him before the knight their host, so that he set his meat before him at a lower table, as though he were not of their company.

and on the morrow, the damsel and sir beaumains took their leave of the knight, and thanking him departed. then they rode on their way till they came to a great forest, through which flowed a river, and there was but one passage over it, whereat stood two knights armed to hinder the way. “wilt thou match those two knights,” said the damsel to sir beaumains, “or return again?” “i would not return,” said he, “though they were six.” therewith he galloped into the water, and swam his horse into the middle of the stream. and there, in the river, one of the knights met him, and they brake their spears together, and then drew their swords, and smote fiercely at each other. and at the last, sir beaumains struck the other mightily upon the helm, so that he fell down stunned into the water, and was drowned. then sir beaumains spurred his horse on to the land, where instantly the other knight fell on him. and they also brake their spears upon each other, and then drew their swords, and fought savagely and long together. and after many blows, sir beaumains clove through the knight’s skull down to the shoulders. then rode sir beaumains to the damsel, but ever she still scoffed at him, and said, “alas! that a kitchen page should chance to slay two such brave knights! thou deemest now that thou hast done a mighty deed, but it is not so; for the first knight’s horse stumbled, and thus was he drowned—not by thy strength; and as for the second knight, thou wentest by chance behind him, and didst kill him shamefully.” “damsel,” said sir beaumains, “say what ye list, i care not so i may win your lady; and wouldst thou give me but fair language, all my care were past; for whatsoever knights i meet, i fear them not.” “thou shalt see knights that shall abate thy boast, base kitchen knave,” replied she; “yet say i this for thine advantage, for if thou followest me thou wilt be surely slain, since i see all thou doest is but by chance, and not by thy own prowess.” “well damsel,” said he, “say what ye will, wherever ye go i will follow.”

so they rode on until the eventide, and still the damsel evermore kept chiding sir beaumains. then came they to a black space of land, whereon was a black hawthorn tree, and on the tree there hung a black banner, and on the other side was a black shield and spear, and by them a great black horse, covered with silk; and hard by sat a knight armed in black armour, whose name was the knight of the blacklands. when the damsel saw him, she cried out to beaumains, “flee down the valley, for thy horse is not saddled!” “wilt thou for ever deem me coward?” answered he. with that came the black knight to the damsel, and said, “fair damsel, hast thou brought this knight from arthur’s court to be thy champion?” “not so, fair knight,” said she; “he is but a kitchen knave.” “then wherefore cometh he in such array?” said he; “it is a shame that he should bear thee company.” “i cannot be delivered from him,” answered she: “for in spite of me he rideth with me; and would to heaven you would put him from me, or now slay him, for he hath slain two knights at the river passage yonder, and done many marvellous deeds through pure mischance.” “i marvel,” said the black knight, “that any man of worship will fight with him.” “they know him not,” said the damsel, “and think, because he rideth with me, that he is well born.” “truly, he hath a goodly person, and is likely to be a strong man,” replied the knight; “but since he is no man of worship, he shall leave his horse and armour with me, for it were a shame for me to do him more harm.”

when sir beaumains heard him speak thus, he said, “horse or armour gettest thou none of me, sir knight, save thou winnest them with thy hands; therefore defend thyself, and let me see what thou canst do.” “how sayest thou?” answered the black knight. “now quit this lady also, for it beseemeth not a kitchen knave like thee to ride with such a lady.” “i am of higher lineage than thou,” said sir beaumains, “and will straightway prove it on thy body.” then furiously they drove their horses at each other, and came together as it had been thunder. but the black knight’s spear brake short, and sir beaumains thrust him through the side, and his spear breaking at the head, left its point sticking fast in the black knight’s body. yet did the black knight draw his sword, and smite at sir beaumains with many fierce and bitter blows; but after they had fought an hour and more, he fell down from his horse in a swoon, and forthwith died. then sir beaumains lighted down and armed himself in the black knight’s armour, and rode on after the damsel. but notwithstanding all his valour, still she scoffed at him, and said, “away! for thou savourest ever of the kitchen. alas! that such a knave should by mishap destroy so good a knight; yet once again i counsel thee to flee, for hard by is a knight who shall repay thee!” “it may chance that i am beaten or slain,” answered sir beaumains, “but i warn thee, fair damsel, that i will not flee away, nor leave thy company or my quest, for all that ye can say.”

anon, as they rode, they saw a knight come swiftly towards them, dressed all in green, who, calling to the damsel said, “is that my brother, the black knight, that ye have brought with you?” “nay, and alas!” said she, “this kitchen knave hath slain thy brother through mischance.” “alas!” said the green knight, “that such a noble knight as he was should be slain by a knave’s hand. traitor!” cried he to sir beaumains, “thou shalt die for this! sir pereard was my brother, and a full noble knight.” “i defy thee,” said sir beaumains, “for i slew him knightly and not shamefully.” then the green knight rode to a thorn whereon hung a green horn, and, when he blew three notes, there came three damsels forth, who quickly armed him, and brought him a great horse and a green shield and spear. then did they run at one another with their fullest might, and break their spears asunder; and, drawing their swords, they closed in fight, and sorely smote and wounded each other with many grievous blows.

at last, sir beaumains’ horse jostled against the green knight’s horse, and overthrew him. then both alighted, and, hurtling together like mad lions, fought a great while on foot. but the damsel cheered the green knight, and said, “my lord, why wilt thou let a kitchen knave so long stand up against thee?” hearing these words, he was ashamed, and gave sir beaumains such a mighty stroke as clave his shield asunder. when sir beaumains heard the damsel’s words, and felt that blow, he waxed passing wroth, and gave the green knight such a buffet on the helm that he fell on his knees, and with another blow sir beaumains threw him on the ground. then the green knight yielded, and prayed him to spare his life. “all thy prayers are vain,” said he, “unless this damsel who came with me pray for thee.” “that will i never do, base kitchen knave,” said she. “then shall he die,” said beaumains. “alas! fair lady,” said the green knight, “suffer me not to die for a word! o, sir knight,” cried he to beaumains, “give me my life, and i will ever do thee homage; and thirty knights, who owe me service, shall give allegiance to thee.” “all availeth not,” answered sir beaumains, “unless the damsel ask me for thy life;” and thereupon he made as though he would have slain him. then cried the damsel, “slay him not; for if thou do thou shalt repent it.” “damsel,” said sir beaumains, “at thy command, he shall obtain his life. arise, sir knight of the green armour, i release thee!” then the green knight knelt at his feet, and did him homage with his words. “lodge with me this night,” said he, “and to-morrow will i guide ye through the forest.” so, taking their horses, they rode to his castle, which was hard by.

yet still did the damsel rebuke and scoff at sir beaumains, and would not suffer him to sit at her table. “i marvel,” said the green knight to her, “that ye thus chide so noble a knight, for truly i know none to match him; and be sure, that whatsoever he appeareth now, he will prove, at the end, of noble blood and royal lineage.” but of all this would the damsel take no heed, and ceased not to mock at sir beaumains. on the morrow, they arose and heard mass; and when they had broken their fast, took their horses and rode on their way, the green knight conveying them through the forest. then, when he had led them for a while, he said to sir beaumains, “my lord, my thirty knights and i shall always be at thy command whensoever thou shalt send for us.” “it is well said,” replied he; “and when i call upon you, you shall yield yourself and all your knights unto king arthur.” “that will we gladly do,” said the green knight, and so departed.

and the damsel rode on before sir beaumains, and said to him, “why dost thou follow me, thou kitchen boy? i counsel thee to throw aside thy spear and shield, and flee betimes, for wert thou as mighty as sir lancelot or sir tristram, thou shouldest not pass a valley near this place, called the pass perilous.” “damsel,” answered he, “let him that feareth flee; as for me, it were indeed a shameful thing to turn after so long a journey.” as he spake, they came upon a tower as white as snow, with mighty battlements, and double moats round it, and over the tower-gate hung fifty shields of divers colours. before the tower walls, they saw a fair meadow, wherein were many knights and squires in pavilions, for on the morrow there was a tournament at that castle.

then the lord of the castle, seeing a knight armed at all points, with a damsel and a page, riding towards the tower, came forth to meet them; and his horse and harness, with his shield and spear, were all of a red colour. when he came near sir beaumains, and saw his armour all of black, he thought him his own brother, the black knight, and so cried aloud, “brother! what do ye here, within these borders?” “nay!” said the damsel, “it is not thy brother, but a kitchen knave of arthur’s court, who hath slain thy brother, and overcome thy other brother also, the green knight.” “now do i defy thee!” cried the red knight to sir beaumains, and put his spear in rest and spurred his horse. then both knights turned back a little space, and ran together with all their might, till their horses fell to the earth. then, with their swords, they fought fiercely for the space of three hours. and at last, sir beaumains overcame his foe, and smote him to the ground. then the red knight prayed his mercy, and said, “slay me not, noble knight, and i will yield to thee with sixty knights that do my bidding.” “all avails not,” answered sir beaumains, “save this damsel pray me to release thee.” then did he lift his sword to slay him; but the damsel cried aloud, “slay him not, beaumains, for he is a noble knight.” then sir beaumains bade him rise up and thank the damsel, which straightway he did, and afterwards invited them to his castle, and made them goodly cheer.

but notwithstanding all sir beaumains’ mighty deeds, the damsel ceased not to revile and chide him, at which the red knight marvelled much; and caused his sixty knights to watch sir beaumains, that no villainy might happen to him. and on the morrow, they heard mass and broke their fast, and the red knight came before sir beaumains, with his sixty knights, and proffered him homage and fealty. “i thank thee,” answered he; “and when i call upon thee thou shalt come before my lord king arthur at his court, and yield yourselves to him.” “that will we surely do,” said the red knight. so sir beaumains and the damsel departed.

and as she constantly reviled him and tormented him, he said to her, “damsel, ye are discourteous thus always to rebuke me, for i have done you service; and for all your threats of knights that shall destroy me, all they who come lie in the dust before me. now, therefore, i pray you rebuke me no more till you see me beaten or a recreant, and then bid me go from you.” “there shall soon meet thee a knight who shall repay thee all thy deeds, thou boaster,” answered she, “for, save king arthur, he is the man of most worship in the world.” “it will be the greater honour to encounter him,” said sir beaumains.

soon after, they saw before them a city passing fair, and between them and the city was a meadow newly mown, wherein were many goodly tents. “seest thou yonder blue pavilion?” said the damsel to sir beaumains; “it is sir perseant’s, the lord of that great city, whose custom is, in all fair weather, to lie in this meadow, and joust with his knights.”

and as she spake, sir perseant, who had espied them coming, sent a messenger to meet sir beaumains, and to ask him if he came in war or peace. “say to thy lord,” he answered, “that i care not whether of the twain it be.” so when the messenger gave this reply, sir perseant came out to fight with sir beaumains. and making ready, they rode their steeds against each other; and when their spears were shivered asunder, they fought with their swords. and for more than two hours did they hack and hew at each other, till their shields and hauberks were all dinted with many blows, and they themselves were sorely wounded. and at the last, sir beaumains smote sir perseant on the helm, so that he fell grovelling on the earth. and when he unlaced his helm to slay him, the damsel prayed for his life. “that will i grant gladly,” answered sir beaumains, “for it were pity such a noble knight should die.” “grammercy!” said sir perseant, “for now i certainly know that it was thou who slewest my brother, the black knight, sir pereard; and overcame my brothers, the green knight, sir pertolope, and the red knight, sir perimones; and since thou hast overcome me also, i will do thee homage and fealty, and place at thy command one hundred knights to do thy bidding.”

but when the damsel saw sir perseant overthrown, she marvelled greatly at the might of sir beaumains, and said, “what manner of man may ye be, for now am i sure that ye be come of noble blood? and truly, never did woman revile knight as i have done thee, and yet ye have ever courteously borne with me, which surely never had been were ye not of gentle blood and lineage.”

“lady,” replied sir beaumains, “a knight is little worth who may not bear with a damsel.”

“lady,” replied sir beaumains, “a knight is little worth who may not bear with a damsel; and so whatsoever ye said to me i took no heed, save only that at times when your scorn angered me, it made me all the stronger against those with whom i fought, and thus have ye furthered me in my battles. but whether i be born of gentle blood or no, i have done you gentle service, and peradventure will do better still, ere i depart from you.”

“alas!” said she, weeping at his courtesy, “forgive me, fair sir beaumains, all that i have missaid and misdone against you.” “with all my heart,” said he; “and since you now speak fairly to me, i am passing glad of heart, and methinks i have the strength to overcome whatever knights i shall henceforth encounter.”

then sir perseant prayed them to come to his pavilion, and set before them wines and spices, and made them great cheer. so they rested that night; and on the morrow, the damsel and sir beaumains rose, and heard mass. and when they had broken their fast, they took their leave of sir perseant. “fair damsel,” said he “whither lead ye this knight?” “sir,” answered she, “to the castle dangerous, where my sister is besieged by the knight of the redlands.” “i know him well,” said sir perseant, “for the most perilous knight alive—a man without mercy, and with the strength of seven men. god save thee, sir beaumains, from him! and enable thee to overcome him, for the lady lyones, whom he besiegeth, is as fair a lady as there liveth in this world.” “thou sayest truth, sir,” said the damsel; “for i am her sister; and men call me linet, or the wild maiden.” “now, i would have thee know,” said sir perseant to sir beaumains, “that the knight of the redlands hath kept that siege more than two years, and prolongeth the time hoping that sir lancelot, or sir tristram, or sir lamoracke, may come and battle with him; for these three knights divide between them all knighthood; and thou if thou mayest match the knight of the redlands, shall well be called the fourth knight of the world.” “sir,” said sir beaumains, “i would fain have that good fame; and truly, i am come of great and honourable lineage. and so that you and this fair damsel will conceal it, i will tell ye my descent.” and when they swore to keep it secret, he told them, “my name is sir gareth of orkney, my father was king lot, and my mother the lady belisent, king arthur’s sister. sir gawain, sir agravain, and sir gaheris, are my brethren, and i am the youngest of them all. but, as yet king arthur and the court know me not, who i am.” when he had thus told them, they both wondered greatly.

and the damsel linet sent the dwarf forward to her sister, to tell her of their coming. then did dame lyones inquire what manner of man the knight was who was coming to her rescue. and the dwarf told her of all sir beaumains’ deeds by the way: how he had overthrown sir key, and left him for dead; how he had battled with sir lancelot, and was knighted of him; how he had fought with, and slain, the thieves; how he had overcome the two knights who kept the river passage; how he had fought with, and slain, the black knight; and how he had overcome the green knight, the red knight, and last of all, the blue knight, sir perseant. then was dame lyones passing glad, and sent the dwarf back to sir beaumains with great gifts, thanking him for his courtesy, in taking such a labour on him for her sake, and praying him to be of good heart and courage. and as the dwarf returned, he met the knight of the redlands, who asked him whence he came. “i came here with the sister of my lady of the castle,” said the dwarf, “who hath been now to king arthur’s court and brought a knight with her to take her battle on him.” “then is her travail lost,” replied the knight; “for, though she had brought sir lancelot, sir tristram, sir lamoracke, or sir gawain, i count myself their equal, and who besides shall be so called?” then the dwarf told the knight what deeds sir beaumains had done; but he answered, “i care not for him, whosoever he be, for i shall shortly overcome him, and give him shameful death, as to so many others i have done.”

then the damsel linet and sir beaumains left sir perseant, and rode on through a forest to a large plain, where they saw many pavilions, and hard by, a castle passing fair.

but as they came near sir beaumains saw upon the branches of some trees which grew there, the dead bodies of forty knights hanging, with rich armour on them, their shields and swords about their necks, and golden spurs upon their heels. “what meaneth this?” said he, amazed. “lose not thy courage, fair sir,” replied the damsel, “at this shameful sight, for all these knights came hither to rescue my sister; and when the knight of the redlands had overcome them, he put them to this piteous death, without mercy; and in such wise will he treat thee also unless thou bearest thee more valiantly than they.” “truly he useth shameful customs,” said sir beaumains; “and it is a marvel that he hath endured so long.”

so they rode onward to the castle walls, and found them double-moated, and heard the sea waves dashing on one side the walls. then said the damsel, “see you that ivory horn hanging upon the sycamore-tree? the knight of the redlands hath hung it there, that any knight may blow thereon, and then will he himself come out and fight with him. but i pray thee sound it not till high noontide, for now it is but daybreak, and till noon his strength increases to the might of seven men.” “let that be as it may, fair damsel,” answered he, “for were he stronger knight than ever lived, i would not fail him. either will i defeat him at his mightiest, or die knightly in the field.” with that he spurred his horse unto the sycamore, and blew the ivory horn so eagerly, that all the castle rang its echoes. instantly, all the knights who were in the pavilions ran forth, and those within the castle looked out from the windows, or above the walls. and the knight of the redlands, arming himself quickly in blood-red armour, with spear, and shield, and horse’s trappings of like colour, rode forth into a little valley by the castle walls, so that all in the castle, and at the siege, might see the battle.

“be of good cheer,” said the damsel linet to sir beaumains, “for thy deadly enemy now cometh; and at yonder window is my lady and sister, dame lyones.” “in good sooth,” said sir beaumains, “she is the fairest lady i have ever seen, and i would wish no better quarrel than to fight for her.” with that, he looked up to the window, and saw the lady lyones, who waved her handkerchief to her sister and to him to cheer them. then called the knight of the redlands to sir beaumains, “leave now thy gazing, sir knight, and turn to me, for i warn thee that lady is mine.” “she loveth none of thy fellowship,” he answered; “but know this, that i love her, and will rescue her from thee, or die.” “say ye so!” said the red knight. “take ye no warning from those knights that hang on yonder trees?” “for shame that thou so boastest!” said sir beaumains. “be sure that sight hath raised a hatred for thee that will not lightly be put out, and given me not fear, but rage.” “sir knight, defend thyself,” said the knight of the redlands, “for we will talk no longer.”

then did they put their spears in rest, and came together at the fullest speed of their horses, and smote each other in the midst of their shields, so that their horses’ harness sundered by the shock, and they fell to the ground. and both lay there so long time, stunned, that many deemed their necks were broken. and all men said the strange knight was a strong man, and a noble jouster, for none had ever yet so matched the knight of the redlands. then, in a while, they rose, and putting up their shields before them, drew their swords, and fought with fury, running at each other like wild beasts—now striking such buffets that both reeled backwards, now hewing at each other till they shore the harness off in pieces, and left their bodies naked and unarmed. and thus they fought till noon was past, when, for a time they rested to get breath, so sorely staggering and bleeding, that many who beheld them wept for pity. then they renewed the battle—sometimes rushing so furiously together, that both fell to the ground, and anon changing swords in their confusion. thus they endured, and lashed, and struggled, until eventide, and none who saw knew which was the likeliest to win; for though the knight of the redlands was a wily and subtle warrior, his subtlety made sir beaumains wilier and wiser too. so once again they rested for a little space, and took their helms off to find breath.

but when sir beaumains’ helm was off, he looked up to dame lyones, where she leaned, gazing and weeping, from her window. and when he saw the sweetness of her smiling, all his heart was light and joyful, and starting up, he bade the knight of the redlands make ready. then did they lace their helms and fight together yet afresh, as though they had never fought before. and at the last, the knight of the redlands with a sudden stroke smote sir beaumains on the hand, so that his sword fell from it, and with a second stroke upon the helm he drove him to the earth. then cried aloud the damsel linet, “alas! sir beaumains, see how my sister weepeth to behold thee fallen!” and when sir beaumains heard her words, he sprang upon his feet with strength, and leaping to his sword, he caught it; and with many heavy blows pressed so sorely on the knight of the redlands, that in the end he smote his sword from out his hand, and, with a mighty blow upon the head, hurled him upon the ground.

then sir beaumains unlaced his helm, and would have straightway slain him, but the knight of the redlands yielded, and prayed for mercy. “i may not spare thee,” answered he, “because of the shameful death which thou hast given to so many noble knights.” “yet hold thy hand, sir knight,” said he, “and hear the cause. i loved once a fair damsel, whose brother was slain, as she told me, by a knight of arthur’s court, either sir lancelot, or sir gawain; and she prayed me, as i truly loved her, and by the faith of my knighthood, to labour daily in deeds of arms, till i should meet with him; and to put all knights of the round table whom i should overcome to a villainous death. and this i swore to her.” then prayed the earls, and knights, and barons, who stood round sir beaumains, to spare the red knight’s life. “truly,” replied he, “i am loth to slay him, notwithstanding he hath done such shameful deeds. and inasmuch as what he did was done to please his lady and to gain her love, i blame him less, and for your sakes i will release him. but on this agreement only shall he hold his life—that straightway he depart into the castle, and yield him to the lady there, and make her such amends as she shall ask, for all the trespass he hath done upon her lands; and afterwards, that he shall go unto king arthur’s court, and ask the pardon of sir lancelot and sir gawain for all the evil he hath done against them.” “all this, sir knight, i swear to do,” said the knight of the redlands; and therewith he did him homage and fealty.

then came the damsel linet to sir beaumains and the knight of the redlands, and disarmed them, and staunched their wounds. and when the knight of the redlands had made amends for all his trespasses, he departed for the court.

then sir beaumains, being healed of his wounds, armed himself, and took his horse and spear and rode straight to the castle of dame lyones, for greatly he desired to see her. but when he came to the gate they closed it fast, and pulled the drawbridge up. and as he marvelled thereat, he saw the lady lyones standing at a window, who said, “go thy way as yet, sir beaumains, for thou shalt not wholly have my love until thou be among the worthiest knights of all the world. go, therefore, and labour yet in arms for twelve months more, and then return to me.” “alas! fair lady,” said sir beaumains, “i have scarce deserved this of thee, for sure i am that i have bought thy love with all the best blood in my body.” “be not aggrieved, fair knight,” said she, “for none of thy service is forgot or lost. twelve months will soon be passed in noble deeds; and trust that to my death i shall love thee and not another.” with that she turned and left the window.

so sir beaumains rode away from the castle very sorrowrul at heart, and rode he knew not whither, and lay that night in a poor man’s cottage. on the morrow he went forward, and came at noon to a broad lake, and thereby he alighted, being very sad and weary, and rested his head upon his shield, and told his dwarf to keep watch while he slept.

now, as soon as he had departed, the lady lyones repented, and greatly longed to see him back, and asked her sister many times of what lineage he was; but the damsel would not tell her, being bound by her oath to sir beaumains, and said his dwarf best knew, so she called sir gringamors, her brother, who dwelt with her, and prayed him to ride after sir beaumains till he found him sleeping, and then to take his dwarf away and bring him back to her. anon sir gringamors departed, and rode till he came to sir beaumains, and found him as he lay sleeping by the water-side. then stepping stealthily behind the dwarf he caught him in his arms and rode off in haste. and though the dwarf cried loudly to his lord for help, and woke sir beaumains, yet, though he rode full quickly after him, he could not overtake sir gringamors.

when dame lyones saw her brother come back, she was passing glad of heart, and forthwith asked the dwarf his master’s lineage. “he is a king’s son,” said the dwarf, “and his mother is king arthur’s sister. his name is sir gareth of orkney, and he is brother to the good knight, sir gawain. but i pray you suffer me to go back to my lord, for truly he will never leave this country till he have me again.” but when the lady lyones knew her deliverer was come of such a kingly stock, she longed more than ever to see him again.

now as sir beaumains rode in vain to rescue his dwarf, he came to a fair green road and met a poor man of the country, and asked him had he seen a knight on a black horse, riding with a dwarf of a sad countenance behind him. “yea,” said the man, “i met with such a knight an hour agone, and his name is sir gringamors. he liveth at a castle two miles from hence; but he is a perilous knight, and i counsel ye not to follow him save ye bear him goodwill.” then sir beaumains followed the path which the poor man showed him, and came to the castle. and riding to the gate in great anger, he drew his sword, and cried aloud, “sir gringamors, thou traitor! deliver me my dwarf again, or by my knighthood it shall be ill for thee!” then sir gringamors looked out of a window and said, “sir gareth of orkney, leave thy boasting words, for thou wilt not get thy dwarf again.” but the lady lyones said to her brother, “nay brother, but i will that he have his dwarf, for he hath done much for me, and delivered me from the knight of the redlands, and well do i love him above all other knights.” so sir gringamors went down to sir gareth and cried him mercy, and prayed him to alight and take good cheer.

then he alighted, and his dwarf ran to him. and when he was in the hall came the lady lyones dressed royally like a princess. and sir gareth was right glad of heart when he saw her. then she told him how she had made her brother take away his dwarf and bring him back to her. and then she promised him her love, and faithfully to cleave to him and none other all the days of her life. and so they plighted their troth to each other. then sir gringamors prayed him to sojourn at the castle, which willingly he did. “for,” said he, “i have promised to quit the court for twelve months, though sure i am that in the meanwhile i shall be sought and found by my lord king arthur and many others.” so he sojourned long at the castle.

anon the knights, sir perseant, sir perimones, and sir pertolope, whom sir gareth had overthrown, went to king arthur’s court with all the knights who did them service, and told the king they had been conquered by a knight of his named beaumains. and as they yet were talking, it was told the king there came another great lord with five hundred knights, who, entering in, did homage, and declared himself to be the knight of the redlands. “but my true name,” said he, “is ironside, and i am hither sent by one sir beaumains, who conquered me, and charged me to yield unto your grace.” “thou art welcome,” said king arthur, “for thou hast been long a foe to me and mine, and truly i am much beholden to the knight who sent thee. and now, sir ironside, if thou wilt amend thy life and hold of me, i will entreat thee as a friend, and make thee knight of the round table; but thou mayst no more be a murderer of noble knights.” then the knight of the redlands knelt to the king, and told him of his promise to sir beaumains to use never more such shameful customs; and how he had so done but at the prayer of a lady whom he loved. then knelt he to sir lancelot and sir gawain, and prayed their pardon for the hatred he had borne them.

but the king and all the court marvelled greatly who sir beaumains was. “for,” said the king, “he is a full noble knight.” then said sir lancelot, “truly he is come of honourable blood, else had i not given him the order of knighthood; but he charged me that i should conceal his secret.”

now as they talked thus it was told king arthur that his sister, the queen of orkney, was come to the court with a great retinue of knights and ladies. then was there great rejoicing, and the king rose and saluted his sister. and her sons, sir gawain, sir agravain, and sir gaheris knelt before her and asked her blessing, for during fifteen years last past they had not seen her. anon she said, “where is my youngest son, sir gareth? for i know that he was here a twelvemonth with you, and that ye made a kitchen knave of him.” then the king and all the knights knew that sir beaumains and sir gareth were the same. “truly,” said the king, “i knew him not.” “nor i,” said sir gawain and both his brothers. then said the king, “god be thanked, fair sister, that he is proved as worshipful a knight as any now alive, and by the grace of heaven he shall be found forthwith if he be anywhere within these seven realms.” then said sir gawain and his brethren, “lord, if ye will give us leave we will go seek him.” but sir lancelot said, “it were better that the king should send a messenger to dame lyones and pray her to come hither with all speed, and she will counsel where ye shall find him.” “it is well said,” replied the king; and sent a messenger quickly unto dame lyones.

when she heard the message she promised she would come forthwith, and told sir gareth what the messenger had said, and asked him what to do. “i pray you,” said he, “tell them not where i am, but when my lord king arthur asketh for me, advise him thus—that he proclaim a tournament before this castle on assumption day, and that the knight who proveth best shall win yourself and all your lands.” so the lady lyones departed and came to king arthur’s court, and there was right nobly welcomed. and when they asked her where sir gareth was, she said she could not tell. “but, lord,” said she, “with thy goodwill i will proclaim a tournament before my castle on the feast of the assumption, whereof the prize shall be myself and all my lands. then if it be proclaimed that you, lord, and your knights will be there, i will find knights on my side to fight you and yours, and thus am i sure ye will hear tidings of sir gareth.” “be it so done,” replied the king.

so sir gareth sent messengers privily to sir perseant and sir ironside, and charged them to be ready on the day appointed, with their companies of knights to aid him and his party against the king. and when they were arrived he said, “now be ye well assured that we shall be matched with the best knights of the world, and therefore must we gather all the good knights we can find.”

so proclamation was made throughout all england, wales, scotland, ireland, and cornwall, and in the out isles and other countries, that at the feast of the assumption of our lady, next coming, all knights who came to joust at castle perilous should make choice whether they would side with the king or with the castle. then came many good knights on the side of the castle. sir epinogris, the son of the king of northumberland, and sir palomedes the saracen, and sir grummore grummorsum, a good knight of scotland, and sir brian des iles, a noble knight, and sir carados of the tower dolorous, and sir tristram, who as yet was not a knight of the round table, and many others. but none among them knew sir gareth, for he took no more upon him than any mean person.

and on king arthur’s side there came the king of ireland and the king of scotland, the noble prince sir galahaut, sir gawain and his brothers sir agravain and sir gaheris, sir ewaine, sir tor, sir perceval, and sir lamoracke, sir lancelot also and his kindred, sir lionel, sir ector, sir bors and sir bedivere, likewise sir key and the most part of the table round. the two queens also, queen guinevere and the queen of orkney, sir gareth’s mother, came with the king. so there was a great array both within and without the castle, with all manner of feasting and minstrelsy.

now before the tournament began, sir gareth privily prayed dame lyones, sir gringamors, sir ironside, and sir perseant, that they would in nowise disclose his name, nor make more of him than of any common knight. then said dame lyones, “dear lord, i pray thee take this ring, which hath the power to change the wearer’s clothing into any colour he may will, and guardeth him from any loss of blood. but give it me again, i pray thee, when the tournament is done, for it greatly increaseth my beauty whensoever i wear it.” “grammercy, mine own lady,” said sir gareth, “i wished for nothing better, for now i may be certainly disguised as long as i will.” then sir gringamors gave sir gareth a bay courser that was a passing good horse, with sure armour, and a noble sword, won by his father from a heathen tyrant. and then every knight made him ready for the tournament.

so on the day of the assumption, when mass and matins were said, the heralds blew their trumpets and sounded for the tourney. anon came out the knights of the castle and the knights of king arthur, and matched themselves together.

then sir epinogris, son of the king of northumberland, a knight of the castle, encountered sir ewaine, and both broke off their spears short to their hands. then came sir palomedes from the castle, and met sir gawain, and they so hardly smote each other, that both knights and horses fell to the earth. then sir tristram, from the castle, encountered with sir bedivere, and smote him to the earth, horse and man. then the knight of the redlands and sir gareth met with sir bors and sir bleoberis; and the knight of the redlands and sir bors smote together so hard that their spears burst, and their horses fell grovelling to the ground. and sir bleoberis brake his spear upon sir gareth, but himself was hurled upon the ground. when sir galihodin saw that, he bade sir gareth keep him, but sir gareth lightly smote him to the earth. then sir galihud got a spear to avenge his brother, but was served in like manner. and sir dinadam, and his brother la-cote-male-taile, and sir sagramour le desirous, and dodinas le savage, he bore down all with one spear.

when king anguish of ireland saw this, he marvelled what that knight could be who seemed at one time green and at another blue; for so at every course he changed his colour that none might know him. then he ran towards him and encountered him, and sir gareth smote the king from his horse, saddle and all. and in like manner he served the king of scotland, and king urience of gore, and king bagdemagus.

then sir galahaut, the noble prince, cried out, “knight of the many colours! thou hast jousted well; now make thee ready to joust with me.” when sir gareth heard him, he took a great spear and met him swiftly. and the prince’s spear broke off, but sir gareth smote him on the left side of the helm, so that he reeled here and there, and had fallen down had not his men recovered him. “by my faith,” said king arthur, “that knight of the many colours is a good knight. i pray thee, sir lancelot du lake, encounter with him.” “lord,” said sir lancelot, “by thy leave i will forbear. i find it in my heart to spare him at this time, for he hath done enough work for one day; and when a good knight doth so well it is no knightly part to hinder him from this honour. and peradventure his quarrel is here to-day, and he may be the best beloved of the lady lyones of all that be here; for i see well he paineth and forceth himself to do great deeds. therefore, as for me, this day he shall have the honour; for though i were able to put him from it, i would not.” “you speak well and truly,” said the king.

then after the tilting, they drew swords, and there began a great tournament, and there sir lancelot did marvellous deeds of arms, for first he fought with both sir tristram and sir carados, albeit they were the most perilous in all the world. then came sir gareth and put them asunder, but would not smite a stroke against sir lancelot, for by him he had been knighted. anon sir gareth’s helm had need of mending, and he rode aside to see to it and to drink water, for he was sore athirst with all his mighty feats of strength. and while he drank, his dwarf said to him, “give me your ring, lest ye lose it while ye drink.” so sir gareth took it off. and when he had finished drinking, he rode back eagerly to the field, and in his haste forgot to take the ring again. then all the people saw that he wore yellow armour. and king arthur told a herald, “ride and espy the cognizance of that brave knight, for i have asked many who he is, and none can tell me.”

then the herald rode near, and saw written round about his helmet in letters of gold, “sir gareth of orkney.” and instantly the herald cried his name aloud, and all men pressed to see him.

but when he saw he was discovered, he pushed with haste through all the crowd, and cried to his dwarf, “boy, thou hast beguiled me foully in keeping my ring; give it me again, that i may be hidden.” and as soon as he had put it on, his armour changed again, and no man knew where he had gone. then he passed forth from the field; but sir gawain, his brother, rode after him.

and when sir gareth had ridden far into the forest, he took off his ring, and sent it back by the dwarf to the lady lyones, praying her to be true and faithful to him while he was away.

then rode sir gareth long through the forest, till night fell, and coming to a castle he went up to the gate, and prayed the porter to let him in. but churlishly he answered “that he should not lodge there.” then said sir gareth, “tell thy lord and lady that i am a knight of king arthur’s court, and for his sake i pray their shelter.” with that the porter went to the duchess who owned the castle. “let him in straightway,” cried she; “for the king’s sake he shall not be harbourless!” and went down to receive him. when sir gareth saw her coming, he saluted her, and said, “fair lady, i pray you give me shelter for this night, and if there be here any champion or giant with whom i must needs fight, spare me till to-morrow, when i and my horse shall have rested, for we are full weary.” “sir knight,” she said, “thou speakest boldly; for the lord of this castle is a foe to king arthur and his court, and if thou wilt rest here to-night thou must agree, that wheresoever thou mayest meet my lord, thou must yield to him as a prisoner.” “what is thy lord’s name, lady?” said sir gareth. “the duke de la rowse,” said she. “i will promise thee,” said he, “to yield to him, if he promise to do me no harm; but if he refuse, i will release myself with my sword and spear.”

so he rode into the hall and alighted.

“it is well,” said the duchess; and commanded the drawbridge to be let down. so he rode into the hall and alighted. and when he had taken off his armour, the duchess and her ladies made him passing good cheer. and after supper his bed was made in the hall, and there he rested that night. on the morrow he rose and heard mass, and having broken his fast, took his leave and departed.

and as he rode past a certain mountain there met him a knight named sir bendelaine, and cried unto him “thou shalt not pass unless thou joust with me or be my prisoner!” “then will we joust,” replied sir gareth. so they let their horses run at full speed, and sir gareth smote sir bendelaine through his body so sorely that he scarcely reached his castle ere he fell dead. and as sir gareth presently came by the castle, sir bendelaine’s knights and servants rode out to revenge their lord. and twenty of them fell on him at once, although his spear was broken. but drawing his sword he put his shield before him. and though they brake their spears upon him, one and all, and sorely pressed on him, yet ever he defended himself like a noble knight. anon, finding they could not overcome him, they agreed to slay his horse; and having killed it with their spears, they set upon sir gareth as he fought on foot. but every one he struck he slew, and drave at them with fearful blows, till he had slain them all but four, who fled. then taking the horse of one of those that lay there dead, he rode upon his way.

anon he came to another castle and heard from within a sound as of many women moaning and weeping. then said he to a page who stood without, “what noise is this i hear?” “sir knight,” said he, “there be within thirty ladies, the widows of thirty knights who have been slain by the lord of this castle. he is called the brown knight without pity, and is the most perilous knight living, wherefore i warn thee to flee.” “that will i never do,” said sir gareth, “for i fear him not.” then the page saw the brown knight coming and said to gareth, “lo! my lord is near.”

so both knights made them ready and galloped their horses towards each other, and the brown knight brake his spear upon sir gareth’s shield; but sir gareth smote him through the body so that he fell dead. at that he rode into the castle and told the ladies he had slain their foe. then were they right glad of heart and made him all the cheer they could, and thanked him out of measure. but on the morrow as he went to mass he found the ladies weeping in the chapel upon divers tombs that were there. and he knew that in those tombs their husbands lay. then he bade them be comforted, and with noble and high words he desired and prayed them all to be at arthur’s court on the next feast of pentecost.

so he departed and rode past a mountain where was a goodly knight waiting, who said to him, “abide, sir knight, and joust with me!” “how are ye named?” said sir gareth. “i am the duke de la rowse,” answered he. “in good sooth,” then said sir gareth, “not long ago i lodged within your castle, and there promised i would yield to you whenever we might meet.” “art thou that proud knight,” said the duke, “who was ready to fight with me? guard thyself therefore and make ready.” so they ran together, and sir gareth smote the duke from his horse. then they alighted and drew their swords, and fought full sorely for the space of an hour; and at the last sir gareth smote the duke to the earth and would have slain him, but he yielded. “then must ye go,” said sir gareth, “to my lord king arthur at the next feast of pentecost and say that i, sir gareth, sent ye.” “as ye will be it,” said the duke; and gave him up his shield for pledge.

and as sir gareth rode alone he saw an armed knight coming towards him. and putting the duke’s shield before him he rode fast to tilt with him; and so they ran together as it had been thunder, and brake their spears upon each other. then fought they fiercely with their swords and lashed together with such mighty strokes that blood ran to the ground on every side. and after they had fought together for two hours and more, it chanced the damsel linet passed that way; and when she saw them she cried out, “sir gawain and sir gareth, leave your fighting, for ye are brethren!” at that they threw away their shields and swords, and took each other in their arms and wept a great while ere they could speak. and each gave to the other the honour of the battle, and there was many a kind word between them. then said sir gawain, “o my brother, for your sake have i had great sorrow and labour! but truly i would honour you though ye were not my brother, for ye have done great worship to king arthur and his court, and sent more knights to him than any of the table round, except sir lancelot.”

then the damsel linet staunched their wounds, and their horses being weary she rode her palfrey to king arthur and told him of this strange adventure. when she had told her tidings, the king himself mounted his horse and bade all come with him to meet them. so a great company of lords and ladies went forth to meet the brothers. and when king arthur saw them he would have spoken hearty words, but for gladness he could not. and both sir gawain and sir gareth fell down at their uncle’s knees and did him homage, and there was passing great joy and gladness among them all.

then said the king to the damsel linet, “why cometh not the lady lyones to visit her knight, sir gareth, who hath had such travail for her love?” “she knoweth not, my lord, that he is here,” replied the damsel, “for truly she desireth greatly to see him.” “go ye and bring her hither,” said the king. so the damsel rode to tell her sister where sir gareth was, and when she heard it she rejoiced full heartily and came with all the speed she could. and when sir gareth saw her, there was great joy and comfort between them.

then the king asked sir gareth whether he would have that lady for his wife? “my lord,” replied sir gareth, “know well that i love her above all ladies living.” “now, fair lady,” said king arthur, “what say ye?” “most noble king,” she answered, “my lord, sir gareth, is my first love and shall be my last, and if i may not have him for my husband i will have none.” then said the king to them, “be well assured that for my crown i would not be the cause of parting your two hearts.”

then was high preparation made for the marriage, for the king desired it should be at the michaelmas next following, at kinkenadon-by-the-sea.

so sir gareth sent out messages to all the knights whom he had overcome in battle that they should be there upon his marriage-day.

therefore, at the next michaelmas, came a goodly company to kinkenadon-by-the-sea. and there did the archbishop of canterbury marry sir gareth and the lady lyones with all solemnity. and all the knights whom sir gareth had overcome were at the feast; and every manner of revels and games was held with music and minstrelsy. and there was a great jousting for three days. but because of his bride the king would not suffer sir gareth to joust. then did king arthur give great lands and fair, with store of gold, to sir gareth and his wife, that so they might live royally together to their lives’ end.