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 quartum

RYght so at the noone came the damoysel vnto hym with his dyner / and asked hym what chere / truly fayre damoysel sayd syre Launcelot in my lyf dayes neuer so ylle / sir she sayd that me repentest / but and ye wylle be reulyd by me / I shal help you out of this distresse / and ye shal haue no shame nor vylony soo that ye hold me a promyse / fayre damoysel I wil graunte yow / and sore I am of these quenes sorceresses aferd / for they haue destroyed many a good knyght / syre sayd she that is sothe and for the renome and bounte that they here of you / they wold haue your loue / and sir they sayne / your name is syre Launcelot du laake the floure of knyghtes / & they be passynge wrothe with yow that ye haue reffused hem / But syre and ye wold promyse me to helpe my fader on tewsdaye next comynge / that hath made a turnement betwixe hym and

[leaf 94v] the kynge of Northgalys / for the last tewesdaye past my fader lost the felde thorugh thre knyghtes of Arthurs courte / And ye wyll be there on tewesday next comyng / and helpe my fader to morne or pryme by the grace of god I shalle delyuer yow clene / Fayre mayden sayd syr launcelot telle me what is your faders name / and thenne shal I gyue you an ansuer / Syre knyghte she sayd / my fader is kyng Bagdemagus that was foule rebuked at the last turnement / I knowe your fader wel said syre launcelot for a noble kyng and a good knyghte / And by the feythe of my body ye shalle haue my body redy to doo your fader and you seruyse at that day / Syre she sayd gramercy / and to morne awayte ye be redy by tymes and I shal be she that shal delyuer you / and take you your armoure and your hors shelde and spere / And here by within this x myle is an Abbey of whyte monkes / there I praye you that ye me abyde / and thyder shal I brynge my fader vnto you / alle thys shal be done saide syre Launcelot as I am true knyghte / and soo she departed and came on the morne erly / and found hym redy / thenne she brought hym oute of twelue lockes & brouȝt hym vnto his armour / & whan he was clene armed / she brought hym vntyl his owne hors / and lyghtely he sadeled hym and toke a grete spere in his hand / and soo rode forth / and sayd fayre damoysel I shal not faile you by the grace of god / And soo he rode in to a grete forest all that day / and neuer coude fynde no hyghe waye / and soo the nyght felle on hym / and thenne was he ware in a slade of a pauelione of reed sendel / By my feythe sayd syre launcelot in that pauelione wil I lodge alle this nyghte / and soo there he alyghte doune and tayed his hors to the pauelione / and there he vnarmed hym / and there he fond a bedde / and layd hym theryn / and felle on slepe sadly