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

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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
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/MaloryWks2
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 June 5, 2024.

Pages

¶ Capitulum xvj

ANd soo syre Launcelot rode thorou many straunge countreyes ouer marys and valeyes tyl by fortune he came to a fayre castel / and as he paste beyonde the castel / hym thought he herde two bellys rynge . And thenne was he ware of a Faucon came fleynge ouer his hede toward an hyghe elme / and longe lunys aboute her feet / and she flewe vnto the elme to take her perche / the lunys ouer cast aboute a bough / And whanne she wold haue taken her flyghte / she henge by the legges fast / and syre launcelot sawe how he henge / and byheld the fayre faucon perygot / & he was sory for her / The meane whyle came a lady oute of the castel and cryed on hyghe O launcelot launcelot as thou arte floure of alle knyghtes helpe me to gete my hauke / for and my hauke be lost / my lord wyl destroye me / for I kepte the hauke and she slypped from me / and yf my lord my husband wete hit / he is soo hasty that he wyll slee me / What is your lordes name sayd sir Launcelot / sir she said his name is sire Phelot a knygthe that longeth vnto the the kynge of Northgalys / wel fayre lady syn that ye knowe my name and requyre me of knyghthode to helpe yow I wylle doo what I may to gete your hauke / and yet god knoweth I am an ylle clymber and the tree is passynge hyghe / and fewe bowes to helpe me with alle / And ther with sir launcelot alyȝte and teyed his hors to the same tree / and prayd the lady to vnarme hym / And soo whan he was vnarmed / he put of alle his clothes vnto his sherte and breche / and with myghte & force he clamme vp to the faucon / and teyed the lunys to a grete rotten boyshe / and threwe the hauke doune and it with alle / Anone the lady gate the hauke in her hand / and there with al came oute syre phelot oute of the greuys sodenly / that was her

Page 209

[leaf 105r] husband al armed / and with his naked swerd in his hand and sayd O knyghte launcelot now haue I fond the as I wold and stode at the bole of the tree to slee hym / A lady sayd syre Launcelot why haue ye bytrayed me / She hath done sayd syre Phelot but as I commaunded her / and therfor ther nys none other boote but thyne houre is come that thou muste dye / That were shame vnto the sayd syre launcelot thou an armed knyghte to slee a naked man by treason / thou getest none other grace sayd syre phelot and therefor helpe thy self and thou canst / Truly sayde syre launcelot that shal be thy shame / but syn thou wylt doo none other / take myn harneys with the and hange my swerde vpon a bough that I maye gete hit / & thenne doo thy best to slee me and thou canst / Nay nay said sir Phelot / for I knowe the better than thou wenest / therfor thow getest no wepen and I may kepe you ther fro / Allas said sir launcelot that euer a knyghte shold dye wepenles / And ther with he wayted aboue hym and vnder hym / and ouer his hede he sawe a rownsepyk a bygge bough leueles / and ther with he brake it of by the body / And thenne he came lower & awayted how his owne hors stode / and sodenly he lepte on the ferther syde of the hors froward the knyghte / And thenne sir phelot lasshed at hym egerly wenynge to haue slayne hym / But syr Launcelot putte aweye the stroke with the rounsepyk / and ther with he smote hym on the one syde of the hede that he felle doune in a swoune to the ground / Soo thenne syre launcelot took his swerd oute of his hand and stroke his neck fro the body / Thenne cryed the lady / Allas why hast thou slayne my husband / I am not causer sayd syre launcelot / for with falshede ye wold haue had slayne me with treson / and now it is fallen on you bothe / And thenne she souned as though she wold dye / And ther with al syre launcelot gate al his armour as wel as he myght / and put hit vpon hym for drede of more resorte / for he dredde that the knyȝtes castel was soo nygh And soo as soone as he myght he took his hors and departed and thanked god that he had escaped that aduenture

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