[Le morte darthur]

About this Item

Title
[Le morte darthur]
Author
Malory, Thomas, Sir, 15th cent.
Publication
Enprynted and fynysshed in thabbey Westmestre :: [Caxton?],
the last day of Juyl the yere of our lord M.CCCC.lxxxv [1485]
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Subject terms
Arthur, -- King.
Arthurian romances.
Cite this Item
"[Le morte darthur]." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A21703.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 23, 2024.

Pages

¶Capitulum septimum

WYth that came syr Launcelot du lake and he threste in with his spere in the thyckest of the prees / and there he smote doune with one spere fyue knyghtes / and of foure of hem he brake their backes / And in that throng he smote doune the kynge of Northgalys / and brake his thye in that falle / Alle thys doyng of syre Launcelot sawe the thre knyghtes of Arthurs / Yonder is a shrewde gest sayd syre Madore de la port therfore haue here ones at hym / soo they encountred / and syre Launcelot bare hym doune hors and man / soo that his sholder wente oute of lyth / Now befalleth it to me to Iuste sayd Mor¦dred / for syr Mador hath asore falle / Syre Launcelot was wa¦re of hym / and gate a grete spere in his hand / and mette hym and syr Mordred brake a spere vpon hym / and syre launce∣lot gaf hym suche a buffet that the arsson of his sadel brake / & soo he flewe ouer his hors taylle that his helme butte in to the erthe a foote and more that nyhe his neck was broken / & there he lay longe in a swoune / ¶Thenne came in syr Gahalantyne with a grete spere / and Launcelot ageyyst hym with al theyre strength that they myʒt dryue that both her speres to brast euen

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to their handes / and thenne they flang out with their swerdes and gaf many a grym stroke / Thenne was syr launcelot wroth oute of mesure / and thēne he smote syr galahantyne on the hel¦me that his nose braste oute on blood and eerys and mouthe bothe / and ther with his hede henge lowe / And therwith his hors ranne awey with hym / and he felle doune to the erthe / Anone there with al syre launcelot gate a greete spere in hys hand / And or euer that grete spere brake / he bare doune to the erthe xvj knyghtes some hors and man / and some the man & not the hors / & ther was none but that he hyt surely he bare no∣ne armes that day / And thenne he gate another grete spere & smote doune twelue knyghtes / and the moost party of hem ne¦uer throfe after / and thēne the knyʒtes of the kyng of north¦galys wold Iuste nomore / And there the gre was gyuen to kynge Bagdemagus / So eyther party departed vnto his ow∣ne place / and syr launcelot rode forth with kynge Bagdema¦gus vnto his castel / and there he had passynge good chere both with the kyng and with his doughter / and they profred hym grete yeftes / And on the morne he took his leue / and told the kynge that he wold goo and seke his broder syre Lyonel that wente from hym whan that he slepte / so he toke his hors / and betaught hem alle to god / And there he sayd vnto the kynges doughter yf ye haue nede ony tyme of my seruyse I praye you lete me haue knouleche / and I shal not faylle you as I am true knyght / and so syr launcelot departed / and by aduenture he came in to the same forest / there he was take slepyng / And in the myddes of an hyhe way he mette a damoysel rydyng on a whyte palfroy / and there eyther salewed other / Fayre damoy¦sel said syre launcelot knowe ye in thi countray ony aduen∣tures / syre knyghte sayd that damoysel / here are aduentures nere hand / and thou durst preue hem / why shold I not pre∣ue aduentures said syre launcelot for that cause come I hyder / wel sayd she thou semest wel to be a good knyght / And yf thou dare mete with a good knyght / I shal brynge the where is the best knyght / and the myghtyest that euer thou fond / so thou wylt telle me what is thy name / and what knyght thou arte / damoysel as for to telle the my name I take no grete for∣ce / Truly my name is syre laūcelot du lake / syre thou bysemyst

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wel / here ben aduentures by that fallen for the / for here by du∣elleth a knyght that wylle not be ouermatched for no man I knowe but ye ouermatche hym / & his name is syre Turquyne And as I vnderstand he hath in his pryson of Arthurs co∣urte good knyghtes thre score and foure / that he hath wonne with his owne handes / But whan ye haue done that Iourney ye shal promyse me as ye are a true knyght for to go with me and to helpe me / and other damoysels that are distressid day∣ly with a fals knyghte / All your entente damoysel and desy¦re I wylle fulfylle / soo ye wyl brynge me vnto this knyghte How fayre knyght come on your waye / and soo she broughte hym vnto the fourde and the tre where henge the bacyn / So sir launcelot lete his hors drynke / and sythen he bete on the bacyn with the butte of his spere so hard with al his myʒt tyl the bo¦ttom felle oute / and longe he dyd soo but he sawe noo thynge Thenne he rode endlong the gates of that manoyre nyghe half an houre / And thenne was he ware of a grete knyʒt that dro∣e an hors afore hym / and ouerthwarte the hors there lay an armed knyght bounden / And euer as they came nere and ne∣re / syre launcelot thouʒt he shold knowe hym / Thenne sir laun∣celot was ware that hit was syre gaherys Gawayns broder a knyghte of the table round / Now fayre damoysel sayd sir la∣uncelot / I see yonder cometh a knyght fast bounden that is a felawe of myne / and broder he is vnto syr gawayne / And att the fyrst begynnyng I promyse yow by the leue of god to re∣scowe that knyght / But yf his mayster sytte better in the sa∣del I shal delyuer alle the prysoners that he hath oute of daun¦ger / for I am sure he hath two bretheren of myne prysoners with hym / By that tyme that eyther had sene other / they gryp¦ped theyr speres vnto them / Now fayre knyghte sayd syr la∣uncelot / put that wounded knyghte of the hors / and lete hym reste a whyle / and lete vs two preue oure strengthes / For as it is enformed me thou doest and hast done grete despyte and shame vnto knyghtes of the round table / and therfor now de∣fende the / And thow be of the table round sayd Turquyne I defye the and alle thy felauship / that is ouermoche sayd / sa∣yd syre launcelot

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