Le Morte Darthur / by Syr Thomas Malory ; the original edition of William Caxton now reprinted and edited with an introduction and glossary by H. Oskar Sommer ; with an essay on Malory's prose style by Andrew Lang

About this Item

Title
Le Morte Darthur / by Syr Thomas Malory ; the original edition of William Caxton now reprinted and edited with an introduction and glossary by H. Oskar Sommer ; with an essay on Malory's prose style by Andrew Lang
Author
Malory, Thomas, Sir, 15th cent.
Editor
Caxton, William, ca. 1422-1491, Sommer, H. Oskar (Heinrich Oskar), b. 1861
Publication
London: David Nutt
1889
Rights/Permissions

The University of Michigan Library provides access to these materials for educational and research purposes. These materials are in the public domain. If you have questions about the collection, please contact mec-info@umich.edu. If you have concerns about the inclusion of an item in this collection, please contact libraryit-info@umich.edu.

DPLA Rights Statement: No Copyright - United States

Cite this Item
"Le Morte Darthur / by Syr Thomas Malory ; the original edition of William Caxton now reprinted and edited with an introduction and glossary by H. Oskar Sommer ; with an essay on Malory's prose style by Andrew Lang." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/MaloryWks2. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 24, 2024.

Pages

¶ Capitulum Quartum

THenne as hit felle by fortune and aduenture sire Bors de ganys that was neuewe vnto sir Launcelot cam ouer that brydge / and ther syre Bromel and sire bors Iusted / & sir Bors smote syre Bromel suche a buffet that he bare hym ouer his hors croupe / And thenne syre Bromel as an hardy knyghte pulled out his suerd / and dressid his sheld to doo bataille with syr Bors / And thenne syr Bors alyȝte / and auoyded his hors / and there they dasshed to gyders many sadde strokes / and long thus they foughte / tyl att the laste syr Bromel was leyd to the erthe / and there syre bors began to vnlace his helme to slee hym / Thenne syr bromel cryed syre bors mercy / and yelded hym / vpon this couenaunt thou shalt haue thy lyf said syr bors / soo thou goo vnto syr launcelot vpon whytsondaye that next cometh and yelde the vnto hym as knyghte recreaunt / I wille doo hit said syr bromel / and that he sware vpon the crosse of the swerd / and soo he lete hym departe / and syr bors rode vnto kynge Pelles / that was within Corbyn / And whanne the kynge and Elayne his doughter wist that syr bors was neuewe vnto syr launcelot / they made hym grete chere / Thenne said dame Elayne / we merueyle where sir Launcelot is / for he came neuer here but ones / Meruelle not said sir bors / for this half yere he hath ben in pryson with quene Morgan le fay kyng Arthurs syster / Allas said dame Elayne that me repenteth / and euer syr bors beheld that child in her armes / and euer hym semed it was passynge lyke sire launcelot / Truly said Elayne wete ye wel this child he gat vpon me / Thēne sir bors wepte for Ioye / & he praid to god it myȝt

Page 577

[leaf 289r] preue as good a knyghte as his fader was / And soo cam in a whyte douue / and she bare a lytel censer of gold in her mouthe / and there was alle maner of metes and drynkes / and a mayden bare that Sancgreal / and she said openly / wete yow wel syr Bors that this child is Galahalt that shalle sytte in the sege peryllous and encheue the Sancgreal / and he shalle be moche better than euer was sir Launcelot du lake / that is his owne fader / & thenne they kneled doune / & made theyre deuocyons / and there was suche a sauour as alle the spyecery in the world had ben there / And whanne the douue took her flyghte / the mayden vanysshed with the Sancgreal as she cam Syr said sir Bors vnto kynge Pelles / this Castel may be named the castel aduenturous / for here be many straunge aduentures / that is sothe said the kynge / for wel maye this place be called the aduentures place / for there come but fewe knyghtes here that gone aweye with ony worship / be he neuer so strong here he may be preued / and but late sire Gawayne the good knyght gate but lytyl worship here / for I lete yow wete said kynge Pelles / here shalle no knyght wynne no worship / but if he be of worship hym self and of good lyuynge / and that loueth god and dredeth god / and els he geteth no worshyp here be he neuer soo hardy / that is wonderful thyng said syr Bors what ye meane in this Countrey / I wote not / for ye haue many straunge aduentures / and therfor I wyl lye in this Castel this nyghte / ye shalle not doo so said kynge Pelles by my counceyll / for hit is hard and ye escape withoute a shame / I shalle take the aduenture that wille befalle me said syr Bors thenne I counceyle yow said the kynge to be confessid clene/ As for that said sire Bors I wille be shryuen with a good wylle / Soo syr Bors was confessyd / and for al wymmen sir Bors was a vyrgyne / sauf for one / that was the doughter of kynge Brangorys / and on her he gat a child that hyghte Elayne / and sauf for her syre Bors was a clene mayden / and soo sir Bors was ledde vnto bed in a fayr large chamber / and many dores were shette aboute the chamber / whan sir Bors aspyed alle tho dores / he auoyded alle the peple / for he myght haue no body with hym / but in no wyse syr Bors wold vnarme hym / but soo he leid hym doune vpon the bedde / and ryght soo

Page 578

[leaf 289v] he sawe come in a lyghte that he myght wel see a spere grete & longe that came streyghte vpon hym poyntelynge / and to syre Bors semed that the hede of the spere brente lyke a tapre / and anon or syr Bors wyst / the spere hede smote hym in to the sholder an hand brede in depnesse / and that wound greued syre Bors passynge sore / And thenne he leyd hym doune ageyne for payne / and anone there with alle there came a knyght armed with his shelde on his sholder and his suerd in his hande and he bad sir Bors aryse syr knyȝte and fyghte with me / I am sore hurte he said / but yet I shal not fayle the / And thenne syr Bors starte vp and dressid his shelde / and thenne they lasshed to gyders myghtely a grete whyle / and at the laste syr Bors bare hym bakward vntyl that he came vnto a chāber dore / and there that knyghte yede in to that chamber & rested hym a grete whyle / And whan he hadde reposed hym he came out fresshely ageyne / and beganne newe bataille with sir bors myghtely and strongly

Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.