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

¶ Capitulum xvij

[leaf 378r]

¶ Capitulum xvij

THenne sire Bors told sire launcelot how there was sworne a grete turnement and Iustes betwixe kynge Arthur and the kynge of Northgalys that sholde be vpon al halowmasse day besyde wynchestre / is that trouthe said sir launcelot / thenne shalle ye abyde with me styl a lytyll whyle vntyl that I be hole / for I fele myself ryght bygge & stronge / Blessid be god said syr Bors / thenne were they there nygh a moneth to gyders / and euer this mayden Elayn dyd euer her dylygente labour nyghte and daye vnto syr launcelot / that ther was neuer child nor wyf more meker to her fader and husband than was that fayre mayden of Astolat/ wherfore sir Bors was gretely pleasyd with her / Soo vpon a day by the assente of syr launcelot / syre Bors and syre lauayne they made the heremyte to seke in woodes for dyuerse herbes / and soo sir launcelot made fayre Elayne to gadre herbes for hym to make hym a bayne / In the meane whyle syr launcelot made hym to arme hym at alle pyeces / and there he thoughte to assaye his armour and his spere for his hurte or not And soo whan he was vpon his hors / he stered hym fyersly / and the hors was passynge lusty and fresshe by cause he was not laboured a moneth afore / And thenne syr Launcelot couched that spere in the reest / that courser lepte myghtely whan he felte the spores / and he that was vpon hym the whiche was the noblest hors of the world strayned hym myghtely and stably / and kepte stylle the spere in the reest / and ther with syre Launcelot strayned hym self soo straytly with soo grete force to gete the hors forward that the buttom of his wound brast bothe within and withoute / and there with alle the blood cam oute so fyersly that he felte hym self soo feble that he myghte not sytte vpon his hors / And thenne syr Launcelot cryed vnto syr Bors / A syr Bors and syr Lauayne helpe for I am come to myn ende / And there with he felle doun on the one syde to the erthe lyke a dede corps / And thenne syr Bors and syr Lauayne came to hym with sorowe makyng out of mesure / And soo by fortune the mayden Elayn herd their mornyng / & thenne she came thyder / & whan she fond syr Launcelot there armed in that place / she cryed & wepte as she had ben woode / &

[leaf 378v] thenne she kyst hym / & dyd what she myghte to awake hym/ And thenne she rebuked her broder and sir Bors / and called hem fals traytours / why they wold take hym out of his bedde / there she cryed and sayd / she wold appele them of his deth / With this came the holy heremyte syr Bawdewyn of bretayne / And whan he fond syr launcelot in that plyte / he sayd but lytel / but wete ye wel he was wrothe / and thenne he bad hem / lete vs haue hym in / And so they alle bare hym vnto the hermytage / and vnarmed hym / and layd hym in his bedde / & euer more his wound bledde pytously / but he stered no lymme of hym / Thenne the knyghte heremyte put a thynge in his nose and a lytel dele of water in his mouthe / And thenne sir launcelot waked of his swoune / and thenne the heremyte staunched his bledynge / And whan he myghte speke / he asked sir launcelot / why he putte his lyf in Ieopardy / Sir said syre Launcelot by cause I wende I had ben stronge / and also syre Bors told me / that there shold be at al halowmasse a grete Iustes betwixe kynge Arthur and the kynge of Northgalys / and therfor I thoughte to assaye hit my self / whether I myght be there or not / A syr launcelot sayd the heremyte / your herte & your courage wille neuer be done vntyl your last day / but ye shal doo now by my counceylle / lete sire Bors departe from yow / & lete hym doo at that turnement what he may / and by the grace of god sayd the knyghte heremyte by that the turnement be done and ye come hydder ageyne / syr launcelot shall be as hole as ye / soo that he wil be gouerned by me /