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 viij

BY that syr Percyuale had abyden there tyl myddaye / he sawe a shyp came rowyng in the see as all the wynd of the world had dryuen hit / And soo it droof vnder that roche / And whanne syr Percyual sawe this / he hyhed hym thyder / and fonde the ship couerd with sylke more blacker than ony beare / and therin was gentilwoman of grete beaute / and she was clothed rychely that none myghte be better / And whanne she sawe syr Percyuale / she saide Who broughte yow in this wyldernes where ye be neuer lyke to passe hens / for ye shal dye here for hongre and meschyef / Damoysel saide

[leaf 325v] syr Percyuale I serue the best man of the world / and in his seruyse he wille not suffre me to dye / for who that knocketh shal entre / and who that asketh shalle haue / and who seketh hym / he hydeth hym not / But thenne she said syr Percyual wote ye what I am / ye sayd he / Now who taughte yow my name said she / Now sayd syre Percyuale I knowe you better than ye wene / And I came oute of the waste forest where I found the reed knyghte with the whyte sheld sayd the damoysel / A damoysel said he with that knyghte wold I mete passyng fayn Sir knyghte said she / and ye wille ensure me by the feyth that ye owe vnto knyghthode that ye shalle doo my wylle what tyme I somone yow / and I shalle brynge yow vnto that knyȝt ye said he / I shalle promyse yow to fulfylle your desyre / well said she now shal I telle yow / I sawe hym in the foreste chacynge two knyghtes vnto a water the whiche is called mortayse and they drofe hym in to the water for drede of dethe / and the two knyghtes passed ouer / and the reed knyghte passed after / and there his hors was drenched / and he thorou grete strengthe escaped vnto the land / thus she told hym / and syr Percyuale was passynge glad therof / Thenne she asked hym yf he had ete ony mete late / Nay madame truly I ete no mete nyghe this thre dayes / but late here I spak with a good man that fedde me with his good wordes and hooly / and refresshyd me gretely / A syr knyghte said she that same man is an enchaunter and a multyplyer of wordes / For and ye byleue hym ye shall playnly be shamed & dye in this roche for pure honger and be eten with wylde beestes and ye be a yong man and a goodly knyghte / and I shalle helpe yow & ye wil What are ye said syr Percyual that profered me thus grete kyndenes / I am said she a gentylwoman that am disheryted / whiche was somtyme the rychest woman of the world / Damoysel said syr Percyual who hath disheryted yow / for I haue grete pyte of yow / Sir said she I dwellid with the grettest man of the world and he made me so fayre and clere that ther was none lyke me / and of that grete beaute I had a lytil pryde more than I ought to haue had / Also I sayd a word that pleasyd hym not / And thenne he wold not suffre me to be ony lenger in his company / and soo drofe me from myn herytage /

[leaf 327r] and soo disheryted me / and he had neuer pyte of me nor of none of my counceylle / nor of my Courte / And sythen sir knyght hit hat befallen me soo / and thurgh me and myn I haue benome hym many of his men / and made hem to become my men For they aske neuer no thyng of me but I gyue hit hem that and moche more / Thus I and al my seruauntes were ayenst hym nyghte and daye / Therfore I knowe now no good knyȝt nor noo good man but I gete hym on my syde and I maye And for that I knowe that thow arte a good knyȝt / I byseche yow to helpe me / And for ye be a felawe of the round table wherfore ye oughte not to fayle noo gentylwoman whiche is disheryted / and she besought yow of helpe