ARTHURIAN CHRONICLES: ROMAN DE BRUT

by

WACE

TRANSLATED BY EUGENE MASON

INTRODUCTION

 "... In the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights. "

 SHAKESPEARE, Sonnet cvi. 

I. --WACE

In the long line of Arthurian chroniclers Geoffrey of Monmouthdeservedly occupies the first place. The most gifted and the mostoriginal of their number, by his skilful treatment of the Arthurianstory in his _Historia Regum Britanniae_, he succeeded in unitingscattered legends attached to Arthur's name, and in definitelyestablishing their place in chronicle history in a form that persistedthroughout the later British historical annals. His theme and hismanner of presenting it were both peculiarly adapted to win the favourof his public, and his work attained a popularity that was almostunprecedented in an age that knew no printed books. Not only was itaccepted as an authority by British historians, but French chroniclersalso used it for their own purposes. 

About the year 1150, five years before the death of Geoffrey, anAnglo-Norman, Geoffrey Gaimar, wrote the first French metrical chronicle. It consisted of two parts, the _Estorie des Bretons_ and the _Estorie desEngles_, of which only the latter is extant, but the former is known tohave been a rhymed translation of the _Historia_ of Geoffrey of Monmouth. Gaimar's work might possibly have had a longer life if it had not beencast into the shade by another chronicle in verse, the _Roman de Brut_, by a Norman poet, Wace, which fills an important and interesting placeamong our Arthurian sources, not merely because of the author's qualitiesas a poet and his treatment of the Arthurian story, but also because ofthe type of composition that he produced. For the metrical chronicleoccupies an intermediate position between the prose chronicle, one of thefavourite forms of mediaeval monastic production throughout Europe, andthe metrical romance, which budded and blossomed most richly in France, where, during the last half of the twelfth century, it received itsgreatest impulse from Crestien de Troies, the most distinguished of the_trouvères_. The metrical romances were written for court circles, andwere used as a vehicle for recounting adventures of love and chivalry, and for setting forth the code of behaviour which governed the courtlylife of France at that period. Wace's poem, though based upon chroniclehistory, is addressed to a public whose taste was turning toward chivalricnarrative, and it foreshadows those qualities that characterised the verseromances, for which no more fitting themes could be found than thosesupplied by the stories of Arthurian heroes, whose prowess teaches us thatwe should be valiant and courteous. Wace saw the greater part of thetwelfth century. We cannot be certain of the exact year of his birth orof his death, but we know that he lived approximately from 1100 to 1175. Practically all our information about his life is what he himself tellsus in his _Roman de Rou_:--

"If anybody asks who said this, who put this history into the Romancelanguage, I say and I will say to him that I am Wace of the isle ofJersey, which lies in the sea, toward the west, and is a part of thefief of Normandy. In the isle of Jersey I was born, and to Caen Iwas taken as a little lad; there I was put at the study of letters;afterward I studied long in France. [1] When I came back from France, Idwelt long at Caen. I busied myself with making books in Romance; manyof them I wrote and many of them I made. "

Before 1135 he was a _clerc lisant_ (reading clerk), and at length, he says, his writings won for him from Henry II. Preferment to theposition of canon at Bayeux. He was more author, however, thanprebendary, and he gave his first effort and interest to his writings. He composed a number of saints' lives, which are still extant, but histwo most important works were his historical poems, the _Roman de Brut_and the _Roman de Rou_ (i. E. Rollo), a chronicle history of the Dukes ofNormandy. This latter was Wace's last production, and beside having aliterary and historic importance, it has a rather pathetic interest. He had begun it in 1160, in obedience to a command of Henry II, butfor some unknown reason Henry later transferred the honour to anotherpoet. Wace laid aside his pen, left his work incomplete, and probablysoon after died. 

"Since the king has asked him to do this work, I must leave it and Imust say no more. Of old the king did me many a favour; much he gaveme, more he promised me, and if he had given all that he promised me, it had been better for me. Here ends the book of Master Wace; let himcontinue it who will. " [2]

Some twenty years earlier, in 1155, Wace had completed the _Roman deBrut_. He himself called it the _Geste des Bretons_ ("History of theBritons"), but it is best known under the title that appears in themanuscripts, the _Roman de Brut_, given to it by scribes because of itsconnection with Brutus, the founder of the British race. The Brut is areproduction in verse of Geoffrey's _Historia_. To call it a translationis almost to give it a misnomer, for although Wace follows exactlythe order and substance of the _Historia_, he was more than a meretranslator, and was too much of a poet not to impress his ownindividuality upon his work. He makes some few additions toGeoffrey's Arthurian history, but his real contribution to the legendis the new spirit that he put into it. In the first place his vehicleis the swift-moving French octo-syllabic couplet, which alone givesan entirely different tone to the narrative from that of Geoffrey'shigh-sounding Latin prose. Wace, moreover, was Norman born and Normanbred, and he inherited the possessions of his race--a love of fact, the power of clear thought, the appreciation of simplicity, thecommand of elegance in form. Such a spirit indeed was his as in afiner type had already expressed itself in Caen in the two nobleabbeys, under whose shadow he passed the greater part of his life, the dignified and sternly simple Abbaye-aux-Hommes of William theConqueror and the graceful, richly ornamented Abbaye-aux-Dames ofQueen Matilda. Sincerity and truth Wace ever aims at, but heembellishes his narrative with countless imaginative details. As anarrator he has the tendency to garrulity, which few mediaeval poetsaltogether escaped, but he is by no means without conversationalcharm, and in brief sentences abounding in colloquial turns, he leadsus easily on with seldom flagging interest even through those pageswhere he is most inclined to be prolix. He is a systematic person withaccurate mental habits, and is keenly alive to the limitations of hisown knowledge. He doubtless often had to bid his common sense consolehim with the reflections with which he begins his _Life of St. Nicholas_:--"Nobody can know everything, or hear everything, or seeeverything ... God distributes different gifts to different people. Each man should show his worth in that which God has given him. "

He is extremely careful to give his authorities for his statements, and has all the shyness of an antiquarian toward facts for which hehas not full proof. Through Breton tales, for example, he heard of thefairy fountain of Barenton in the forest of Broceliande, where faysand many another marvel were to be seen, and he determined to visitit in order to find out how true these stories were. "I went thereto look for marvels. I saw the forest and I saw the land; I soughtmarvels, but I found none. A fool I came back, a fool I went; a fool Iwent, a fool I came back; foolishness I sought, a fool I hold myself. "[3] The wonders related of Arthur, he tells us, have been recounted sooften that they have become fables. "Not all lies, nor all true, allfoolishness, nor all sense; so much have the storytellers told, and somuch have the makers of fables fabled to embellish their stories thatthey have made all seem fable. " [4] He omits the prophecies of Merlinfrom his narrative, because he does not understand them. "I am notwilling to translate his book, because I do not know how to interpretit. I would say nothing that was not exactly as I said. " [5] To thisscrupulous regard for the truth, absolutely foreign to the ingeniousGeoffrey, Wace adds an unusual power of visualising. He sees clearlyeverything that he describes, and decorates his narrative with almostsuch minute details of any scene as a seventeenth-century Dutchpainter loved to put upon his canvas. The most famous instance ofthis power is his description of Arthur's embarkation for theRoman campaign. Geoffrey, after saying simply that Arthur went toSouthampton, where the wind was fair, passes at once to the dream thatcame to the king on his voyage across the Channel. But Wace paintsa complete word-picture of the scene. Here you may see the crewsgathering, there the ships preparing, yonder friends exchangingparting words, on this side commanders calling orders, on that, sailors manning the vessels, and then the fleet speeding over thewaves. [6] Another spirited example of this same characteristic isfound in the _Roman de Rou_ [7] in the stirring account of the advance ofthe Normans under William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings:--

"Taillefer, who sang right well, mounted on a charger that wentswiftly, rode before the duke singing of Charlemagne and of Roland, and of Oliver and the vassals who died at Roncesval. When they hadridden until they came close to the English, 'Sire, ' said Taillefer, 'a grace! I have served you long; for all my service, you owe me adebt. To-day, an it please you, repay it me. For all my guerdon I begyou and fervently I pray you, grant me to deal the first blow in thebattle!' The duke replied, 'I grant it. ' And Taillefer pricked onat full gallop, on before all the others he pressed. He struck anEnglishman and killed him; beneath the breast, clean through the bodyhe thrust his lance; he felled him down full length on the ground;then he drew his sword, he struck another; then he cried, 'On, on!What do ye? Strike, strike!' Then the English surrounded him at thesecond blow that he dealt. Hark to the noise raised and the cries!"

Apart from matters of style, Wace made other changes from Geoffrey'snarrative that are more important for Arthurian romance. He wrote the_Brut_ under the patronage of Henry II, and, if we may trust Layamon'sstatement, he dedicated it to Queen Eleanor, who was the ardentpropagator in England of the courtly ideals of southern France. Accordingly Wace, perhaps partly because of his own milieu, partlybecause of his royal patroness, wove into Geoffrey's narrative morepronouncedly chivalric material. The lack of the courtly virtue ofmesure (moderation) that is noticeable in Geoffrey's Arthur, Wace iscareful to conceal; he gives, furthermore, a place to the descriptionsof love, which fill so many lines in the later romances, but which areabsent from Geoffrey's pages. Gawain, for instance, who is "valiantand of very great moderation, " declares that jesting and the delightsof love are good, and that for the sake of his lady a young knightperforms deeds of chivalry. [8] In addition to these changes, whichare to be attributed to his personal bent and surroundings, Wace alsomakes it clear that he was conversant with stories of Arthur quiteindependent of the _Historia_. Fables about Arthur he himself says thathe had heard, as we have seen, and from these he adds to Geoffrey'snarrative two that bear unmistakable signs of a Celtic origin, andthat were destined to become important elements in later romance; forhe gives us the first literary record of the famous Round Table, [9]and the first definite mention in literature of the "hope of Britain. " [10]

Wace is not to be regarded as one of the great contributors to ourknowledge of Arthurian legend, but without a familiarity with hiswork, later French romance can scarcely be appreciated, so importantis his place as a delicate transformer of the story, the harsherelements of which he veiled with the courtliness familiar to him, while he diffused throughout it the indefinable spirit of Frenchromance; and this he did with the naive simplicity and grace that werehis by birth and temperament. 

II. --LAYAMON

To Wace we owe still another debt, for the _Roman de Brut_ served asthe direct source for one of the greatest members of the Arthurianliterature of any period. This is the _Brut_, written in the first halfof the thirteenth century, after the year 1204, by Layamon, an Englishpriest of the country parish of Lower Arnley in Worcestershire. 

"There was a priest in the land, who was named Layamon; he was son ofLeovenath--may the Lord be gracious to him!--he dwelt at Ernley, at anoble church upon Severn's bank, --good it there seemed to him--nearRadestone, where he books read. It came to him in mind, and in hischief thought, that he would tell the noble deeds of the English; whatthey were named, and whence they came, who first possessed the Englishland, after the flood that came from the Lord.... Layamon began tojourney wide over this land, and procured the noble books which hetook for pattern. He took the English book that Saint Bede made;another he took in Latin, that Saint Albin made, and the fair Austin, who brought baptism in hither; the third book he took, and laid therein the midst, that a French clerk made, who was named Wace, who wellcould write; and he gave it to the noble Eleanor, who was the highKing Henry's queen. Layamon laid before him these books, and turnedover the leaves; lovingly he beheld them--may the Lord be merciful tohim!--pen he took with fingers, and wrote on book-skin, and the truewords set together, and the three books compressed into one. Nowprayeth Layamon, for love of the Almighty God, each good man thatshall read this book and learn this counsel, that he say togetherthese soothfast words, for his father's soul, who brought him forth, and for his mother's soul, who bore him to be man, and for his ownsoul, that it be the better. Amen!" [11]

With these words Layamon introduces us to his book and to himself; infact they contain the sum total of our information about his life. Butthey put us at once into sympathy with the earnest, sincere student, who wrote, not like Geoffrey and Wace, for the favour of a high-bornpatron, but for the love of England and of good men and his fewhardly-won and treasured books. Of these books Wace's _Brut_ receivedthe lion's share of his attention, and he made little or no use of theothers that lay before him. 

He followed Wace's poem in outline, but he succeeded in extending its15, 300 verses to 32, 241, by giving a free rein to his fancy, which heoften allowed to set the pace for his pen. For Layamon in his retiredparish, performing the monotonous and far from engrossing duties of areading clerk, [12] lived in reality a stirring life of the imagination. Back in the Saxon past of England his thoughts moved, and his minddwelt on her national epic heroes. Not only in his language, whichbelongs to the period of transition from Anglo-Saxon to MiddleEnglish, but in his verse [13] and phraseology, he shows theinfluence of earlier Anglo-Saxon literature. The sound of the _Ode onAthelstane's Victory_ and of _Beowulf_ is in our ears as we read hisintense, stirring lines. Wars and battles, the stern career of a Saxonleader, the life of the woods and fields attracted him far more thanthe refinements of a Norman court, and by emphasising the elementsthat were most congenial to himself he developed an entirely differentpicture from that presented by either Geoffrey or Wace. Writing withintense interest, he lives and moves and has his being among theevents that he is narrating, and is far too deeply absorbed in hisstory to limit himself to the page that he has before him. Given adramatic situation, the actors become living personalities to him, andhe hears impassioned words falling from their lips in terse phrasessuch as he never found in the lines of Wace. Uther Pendragon, in adeadly battle against the Irish invaders under Gillomar and Pascent, slays Gillomar, then overtakes Pascent:--

"And said these words Uther the Good: 'Pascent, thou shalt abide; herecometh Uther riding!' He smote him upon the head, so that he felldown, and the sword put in his mouth--such meat to him was strange--sothat the point of the sword went in the earth. Then said Uther, 'Pascent, lie now there; now thou hast Britain all won to thy hand! Sois now hap to thee; therein thou art dead; dwell ye shall here, thou, and Gillomar thy companion, and possess well Britain! For now Ideliver it to you in hand, so that ye may presently dwell with ushere; ye need not ever dread who you shall feed. '" [14]

Arthur leads his men close to the hosts of Colgrim, the leader of theSaxon invaders:--

"Thus said Arthur, noblest of kings: 'See ye, my Britons, here besideus, our full foes, --Christ destroy them!--Colgrim the strong, out ofSaxonland? His kin in this land killed our ancestors; but now is theday come, that the Lord hath appointed that he shall lose the life, and lose his friends, or else we shall be dead; we may not see himalive!.... ' Up caught Arthur his shield, before his breast, and he ganto rush as the howling wolf, when he cometh from the wood, behungwith snow, and thinketh to bite such beasts as he liketh. Arthur thencalled to his dear knights: 'Advance we quickly, brave thanes! alltogether towards them; we all shall do well, and they forth fly, asthe high wood, when the furious wind heaveth it with strength. ' Flewover the [fields] thirty thousand shields, and smote on Colgrim'sknights, so that the earth shook again. Brake the broad spears, shivered shields; the Saxish men fell to the ground.... Some theygan wander as the wild crane doth in the moor-fen, when his flight isimpaired, and swift hawks pursue after him, and hounds with mischiefmeet him in the reeds; then is neither good to him nor the land northe flood; the hawks him smite, the hounds him bite, then is the royalfowl at his death-time. " [15]

Layamon lets his imagination display itself not merely in the dramaticspeeches that he puts into the mouths of his actors; he occasionallycomposes a long incident, as in the story of the coronation ofConstans, [16] of the announcement to Arthur of Mordred's treachery, [17]and in the very striking account of Arthur's election to the throne ofBritain and his reception of the messengers who come for him. "Arthursate full still; one while he was wan, and in hue exceeding pale; onewhile he was red, and was moved in heart. When it all brake forth, itwas good that he spake; thus said he then, forthright, Arthur, thenoble knight: 'Lord Christ, God's Son, be to us now in aid, that I mayin life hold God's laws. '" [18] But in general Layamon's expansionsof Wace are merely slight additions or modifications, sufficient innumber, however, to go far in doubling the size of the volume. Hisgreat change is that which I have already mentioned, the spirit inwhich the story is conceived, and this is best illustrated, perhaps, in the person of Arthur himself. For Arthur is no knight-errant, buta grim, stern, ferocious Saxon warrior, loved by his subjects, yetdreaded by them as well as by his foes. "Was never ere such king, sodoughty through all things. " He stands in the cold glare of monarchyand conquest, and save in the story of his birth and of his finalbattle he is seldom, if ever, seen through the softer light ofromance. But Layamon is the only source for the story of which we hearnothing in the later romances, and which is generally attributed to aTeutonic origin, that elves came to Arthur's cradle and gave him goodgifts--to be the best of knights, a rich king, long lived, aboundingin "virtues most good. " Layamon, too, gives a truly Celtic versionof Arthur's disappearance from earth. Two fairy maidens bear the woundedking in a boat from the battle-field over the sea to Argante, the queenof Avalon, who will make him whole again. "And the Britons ever expectwhen Arthur shall return. " This story, and also Layamon's very importantaccount of the establishment of the Round Table, which is vastly morecomplete than Wace's, bear unmistakable marks of a Celtic origin. Layamon, in fact, living as he did near the Welsh border, naturally showsfamiliarity with current Welsh tradition. His work has a high value inthe vexed question of the origin and growth of Arthurian romance; forit proves the existence of genuine Welsh tradition about Arthur, andmakes untenable the position of those critics who maintain that theArthurian legend had an independent development only on the continent. 

Layamon's contributions to our knowledge of the Arthurian materialare, however, comparatively small, since he augmented his original inthe main by passages inspired by his own imagination. [19] His additionsmay be called poetic rather than legendary. Partly because of itsSaxon character his _Brut_ never attained wide popularity, and it hadlittle effect upon the cycle; but it remains one of the most trulygreat literary achievements in the field of both Arthurian chronicleand romance. 

Our three most important Arthurian chroniclers, Geoffrey, Wace, andLayamon, were all men of marked individuality and ability; each livesfor us with as distinct a personality as if we had far more than ourvery imperfect knowledge of the details of his life. Geoffrey, aclever combiner, a highly gifted narrator and scholar, born at a happyhour, gave the Arthurian legend a definite literary form, broughtpermanently together independent elements of tradition, andcontributed enormously to the popularity of the cycle. Wace, theprofessional author, the scrupulous antiquarian and naïve poet, carefully refined the material of Geoffrey, and dressed it in theFrench costume of courtly life. Layamon, the intense and imaginativeEnglish priest, transformed it by the Saxon spirit, and divesting itof its courtly elegance, filled it with greater simplicity and force. 

EXCURSUS I. --ARTHUR'S MAGIC POSSESSIONS

Arthur's magic possessions form a prominent element in Welshtradition, and their appearance in the early chronicles is animportant testimony to the diffusion of Welsh legend. _Kilhwch andOlwen_ contains a list of his belongings, all of which there isreason to believe, from record or from logical inference, were ofotherworld origin. Each has its significant proper name, which in mostcases conveys the idea of brilliant whiteness, a characteristic ofCeltic fairy objects. His ship, for example, is named White Form, his shield "Night Gainsayer, " his dagger "White Haft. " The _Dream ofRhonabwy_ [20] describes his carpet (or mantle), "White, " which had theproperty of retaining no colour but its own, and of making whoeverwas on it (or wrapped in it) invisible, and also his sword, "Hard-breacher, " graven with two serpents from whose jaws two flamesof fire seemed to burst when it was unsheathed, "and then so wonderfulwas the sword that it was hard for any one to look upon it. " Thissword (Caletvwlch, Caliburn, Excalibur) is a Pan-Celtic marvellousobject, and is one of Arthur's most famous possessions. The deadlyblows attributed by Nennius to him in the Battle of Mount Badonwithout doubt traditionally were dealt by Caliburn. Geoffrey ofMonmouth recognised it as a fairy sword, and says that it was made inAvalon, namely, the Celtic otherworld. We may also feel confident thatthe full panoply of armour with which Geoffrey equips Arthur (ix. 4)consisted of magic objects, although Geoffrey, who in general, as anhistorian, rationalises the supernatural, merely describes them asamazingly efficacious. The shield he calls by the name of Arthur'sship in Welsh sources, Pridwen (evidently a fairy boat, limitless incapacity), either from some confusion in tradition, or because, beingenchanted, Pridwen might, of course, serve as either ship or shield. 

Layamon adds further information about Arthur's weapons. His burny, he says (vs. 21133-34) "was named Wygar" (Anglo-Saxon _wigheard_), "Battle-hard, " "which Witeze wrought, " Witeze being a corrupted formfor Widia, the Anglo-Saxon name of the son of Weland, the TeutonicVulcan, a famous maker of magic weapons in romance, with whom his sonmight easily become identified in legend. 

This is the explanation given by Professor G. L. Kittredge of the abovelines, as a correction of Sir Frederic Madden's translation: "he[namely, the smith who made the burny] was named Wygar, the wittywight. " Layamon says (v. 21147) that Arthur's helmet was calledGoswhit, a name that is evidently a translation of some Welsh termmeaning "goosewhite, " which at once classes the helmet with Arthur'sdazzlingly bright fairy belongings. Moreover, Layamon says (vs. 21158, 23779 ff. ) that his spear Ron (a Welsh common noun, meaning "spear")was made by a smith called Griffin, whose name may be the result of anEnglish substitution of the familiar word _griffin_ for the unfamiliar_Gofan_, the name of the Celtic smith-god. These facts are mainlyimportant as testimony to the Celtic element in Arthurian romance, andespecially to Layamon's use of current Welsh Arthurian tradition. Thelarge variety of magical possessions assigned to Arthur is also anotable indication of the great emphasis that Welsh legend laidupon his mythological attributes and his character as otherworldadventurer. 

[The above facts have been established and discussed by ProfessorA. C. L. Brown in his article on the Round Table (p. 199, note 1) citedbelow in Excursus II. ; also in _Iwain_, Boston, 1903, p. 79, note1; _Modern Philology_, I. , 5-8; _Publications of the Modern LanguageAssociation of America_, XXV. , 25 ff. See also the notes on the linescited from Layamon in Sir Frederic Madden's edition of the _Brut_. Forother magic possessions of Arthur, see below, Excursus II. ]

EXCURSUS II. --THE ROUND TABLE

(Wace, _Brut_, vs. 9994 ff. , 10555, 13675; Layamon, vs. 22736 ff. )

Our earliest authority for the story of the Round Table is Wace. Heand Layamon agree in calling it a tale of the Britons, and in sayingthat Arthur had it made to prevent rivalry as to place among hisvassals when they sat at meat. Layamon, however, expands the few linesthat Wace devotes to the subject into one of his longest additions tohis source, by introducing the story of a savage fight for precedenceat a court feast, which was the immediate cause for fashioning theRound Table, a magical object. Ancient sources prove that the Celtshad a grievous habit of quarrelling about precedence at banquets, probably because it was their custom to bestow the largest portion ofmeat upon the bravest warrior. It was also their practice to banquetseated in a circle with the most valiant chieftain of the companyplaced in the middle, possibly owing to the circular form of theirhuts, possibly for the sake of avoiding the disputes that so commonlydisturbed their feastings. The Round Table, accordingly, is to beregarded as a Pan-Celtic institution of early date, and as one of thebelongings that would naturally be attributed by popular traditionto any peculiarly distinguished leader. Layamon's version so closelyparallels early Celtic stories of banquet fights, and has so barbarica tone, as to make it evident that he is here recounting a folk-taleof pure Celtic origin, which must have been connected with Arthurbefore his time, and probably before that of Wace; for this story wasundoubtedly one of those "many fables" which Wace says the Britonstold about the Round Table, but which he does not incorporate into hisnarrative. 

[See A. C. L. Brown, _The Round Table before Wace in Studies and Notesin Philology and Literature_, VII. (Boston, 1900), 183 ff. ; L. F. Mott, _Publications of the Modern Language Association of America_, XX, 231ff. ; J. L. Weston, as above (p. Xv. ), pp. 883 ft. ]

EXCURSUS III. --THE HOPE OF BRITAIN

(Wace, _Brut_, 13681 ff. ; Layamon, 23080 ff. , 28610 ff. )

The belief that Arthur would return to earth, which was firmlyestablished among the Britons by the beginning of the twelfthcentury, does not in early records appear clothed in any definitenarrative form. In later sources it assumes several phases, the most common of which is that recorded by Layamon that Arthur hadbeen taken by fays from his final battle-field to Avalon, the Celticotherworld, whence after the healing of his mortal wound he wouldreturn to earth. Layamon's story conforms essentially to an early typeof Celtic fairy-mistress story, according to which a valorous hero, inresponse to the summons of a fay who has set her love upon him, underthe guidance of a fairy messenger sails over seas to the otherworld, where he remains for an indefinite time in happiness, oblivious ofearth. It is easy to see that the belief that Arthur was still living, though not in this world, might gradually take shape in such a form asthis, and that his absence from his country might be interpreted ashis prolonged sojourn in the distant land of a fairy queen, who wasproffering him, not the delights of her love, but healing for hiswounds, in order that when he was made whole again he might return "tohelp the Britons. " Historic, mythical, and romantic tradition havecombined to produce the version that Layamon records. Geoffrey ofMonmouth (xi. 2), writing in the mock role of serious historian andwith a tendency to rationalisation, says not a word of the woundedking's possible return to earth. Wace, with characteristic caution, affirms that he will not commit himself as to whether the Britons, whosay that Arthur is still in Avalon, speak the truth or not. Here, asin the story of the Round Table, it is Layamon who has preserved forus what was undoubtedly the form that the belief had already assumedin Celtic story, through whatever medium it may have passed before itreached his hands. 

In the _Vita Merlini_, [21] a Latin poem attributed by some scholars toGeoffrey of Monmouth, a curious version of Arthur's stay in Avalon isgiven. The wounded king is taken after the battle of Camlan to theIsle of Apples (for such was understood to be the meaning of thename _Avalon_), which is the domain of a supernatural maiden, wise andbeautiful, Morgen by name, who understands the healing art, and whopromises the king that he shall be made whole again if he abides longwith her. This is the first mention in literature of Morgan la Fée, the most powerful fay of French romance, and regularly the traditionalhealer of Arthur's wounds in Avalon. 

The Argante of Layamon's version is doubtless the same being asMorgana, for whose name, which in any of its current spellings hadthe appearance of a masculine proper name, Layamon either may havesubstituted a more familiar Welsh name, Argante, as I have alreadyshown he might easily have done (_Studies in the Fairy Mythology ofArthurian Romance_, Boston, 1903, pp. 26-28), or, as Professor J. L. Bruce, with equal plausibility, has recently suggested, he may haveused a corruption of one form of the fay's name, Morgant (_ModernLanguage Notes_, March, 1911, pp. 65-68). 

[I have discussed the various versions of Arthur's stay in Avalon in_Studies in Fairy Mythology_, chapter III. On Avalon, see _id. _, p. 40, note 2. On the early belief in Arthur's return to earth, see Geoffreyof Monmouth (_Everyman's Library_), Introduction, p. 10. ]

NOTES:

[1] i. E. , Paris, in the Ile de France. Vs. 10440 ff. 

[2] Vs. 16530 ff. 

[3] _Roman de Rou_, vs. 6415 ff. 

[4] _Roman de Brut_, vs. 10038 ff. 

[5] _Id. _, vs. 7733 ff. 

[6] _Id. _, vs. 11472 ff. Cf. For other examples: Arthur'sconquest of Denmark, _Historia_, ix. 11; _Brut_, vs. 10123 ff. ; Arthur'sreturn to Britain from France, _Historia_, ix. 11; _Brut_, vs. 10427 ff. ;Arthur's coronation, _Historia_, ix. 12 ff. ; _Brut_, vs. 10610 ff. 

[7] Vs. 13149 ff. 

[8] See _Excursus II_. 

[9] Vs. 11048 ff. 

[10] See _Excursus III_. 

[11] Vs. 1 ff. 

[12] Layamon's statement that he "read books" at Arnley isinterpreted to mean that he read the services in the church. 

[13] The poem is written in part in alliterative lines on theAnglo-Saxon system, in part in rhymed couplets of unequal length. 

[14] Vs. 18086 ff. 

[15] Vs. 20110 ff. More famous speeches still are Arthur'scomparison of Childric the Dane to a fox (vs. 20827 ff. ) and his tauntover his fallen foes, Baldulf and Colgrim (vs. 31431 ff. ). 

[16] Vs. 12972 ff. 

[17] Vs. 27992 ff. 

[18] Vs. 19887 ff. 

[19] discussion of this point see J. L. Weston, in _Melanges dephilologie romane offerts à M. Wilmotte_, Paris, 1910, pp. 801, 802. 

[20] See _Mabinogion_, translated by Lady Charlotte Guest, London, 1849. 

[21] Ed. Michel and Wright, Paris, 1837. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GENERAL WORKS OF REFERENCE FOR THE CHRONICLES

R. H. FLETCHER, _The Arthurian Material in the Chronicles (Studies andNotes in Philology and Literature, X)_, Boston, 1906. 

W. LEWIS JONES, King Arthur in History and Legend, London, 1911. 

M. W. MACCALLUM, _Tennyson's Idylls of the King_, Glasgow, 1894. 

H. MAYNADIER, _The Arthur of the English Poets_, Boston and New York, 1907. 

G. PARIS, _Histoire littéraire de la France_, Paris, 1888. 

J. RHYS, _Studies in the Arthurian Legend_, Oxford, 1891. 

W. H. SCHOFIELD, _English Literature from the Norman Conquest to Chaucer_, New York and London, 1906. 

B. TEN BRINK, _Geschichte der Englischen Literatur_, and ed. , A Brandl, Strassburg, 1899. Translated into English, 1st ed, I. , H. M. Kennedy, New York, 1888, II. , i. , W. C. Robinson, 1893, II. , ii. , L. D. Schmidt, 1896. 

AUTHORS AND WORKS

GEOFFREY GAIMAR, _L'Estorie des Engles_, ed. T. D. Hardy and T. C. Marten(Rolls Series), 1888-1889. 

GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH, _Historia Regum Britanniae_, ed. San Marte (A. Schulz) Halle, 1854. Translated, J. A. Giles, _Six Old English Chronicles_, London, 1896; S. Evans, London, 1903. 

LAYAMON, _Brut_, ed. With translation, Sir F. Madden, 3 vols, London, 1847. WORKS ON LAYAMON--Introduction, Madden's ed. Of _Brut_. H. Morley, English Writers, London, 1888-1890, III, 206-231. L. Stephen and S. Lee, _Dictionary of National Biography_, London, 1885-1904, under Layamon. For a further bibliography, see Fletcher (as above), p. 148, note 1. 

WACE, _Roman de Brut_, ed. Le Roux de Lucy, 2 vols, Rouen, 1836-1838. _Roman de Rou_, ed. F. Pluquet, 2 vols, Rouen, 1827, H. Andresen, 2 vols, Heilbronn, 1877-1879, translated by E. Taylor (_Chronicle of the NormanConquest_), London, 1837. WORKS ON WACE--E. Du Méril, _La vie et lesouvrages de Wace_, in _Jahrbuch für romanische u. Englische Literatur, I, i ff. ; also in his _Etudes sur quelques points d'Archéologie_, Paris andLeipzig, 1862. Grober, _Grundriss der romanischen Philologie_, Strassburg, 1888-1902, II, i, 635 ff. H. Morley, _English Writers_, III, 55. G. Paris, _Romania_, IX, 592 ff. L. Stephens and S. Lee, _Dictionary NationalBiography_, under Wace. A Ulbrich, _Romanische Forschungen_, XXVI, 181 ff. For further bibliography, see Fletcher (as above), p. 128, note 1. 

WACE'S ROMAN DE BRUT

Constantine came to Totnes, and many a stout knight with him--therewas not one but was worthy of the kingship. The host set forth towardsLondon, and sent messages in every part, bidding the Britons to theiraid, for as yet they were too fearful to come from their secretplaces. When the Britons heard these tidings they drew, thick as rain, from the woodlands and the mountain, and came before the host introops and companies. To make short a long matter, these marched sofar and wrought such deeds that in the end they altogether discomfitedthose evil men who had done such sore mischief to the land. Afterthese things they held a great council at Cirencester, commandingthereto all the lords and barons of the realm. In that place theychose Constantine as their king, with no long tarrying, none being sobold as to say him nay. So when they had ordained him king, they setthe crown on his head with marvellous joy, and owned themselves as hismen. Afterwards, by their counsel, Constantine took to wife a dame whowas come of gentle Roman blood. On this lady he begat three sons. Theeldest--whom the king named Constant--he caused to be nourished atWinchester, and there he made him to be vowed a monk. The second sonwas called Aurelius, and his surname Ambrosius. Lastly was born Uther, and it was he whose days were longest in the land. These two varletswere held in ward by Gosselyn, the archbishop. 

So long as Constantine lived the realm had rest and peace; but he diedbefore his time had come, for he reigned but twelve short years. Therewas a certain Pict of his household, a traitor, a foul felon, who fora great while had been about his person. I cannot tell the reason whyhe bore the king so mortal a grudge. This Pict took the king asideprivily in an orchard, as though he would speak to him of some hiddenmatter. The king had no thought to keep himself from this false felon, who whilst he made seeming to speak in his master's ear, drew forth aknife and smote him therewith so shrewdly that he died. Then he fledforth from the garden. But many a time have I heard tell that it wasVortigern who caused Constantine to be slain. Great was the sorrow thelords and all honest people made above their king, for the realm hadnow no prince, save only those children of so tender an age. They laidhim in his tomb, but in no wise put him from remembrance. The wholerealm assembled together that they might make to themselves a king. They doubted sorely which of the two young children they shouldchoose, for of them they knew neither good nor ill, seeing they werebut small and frail, and yet in their warden's charge. As to Constant, the eldest son, who was of more fitting years, they dared not to pluckthe habit from his back, since all men deemed it shame and folly tohale him forth from his abbey. The council would have ordained one ofthe two children to be king had it not been for Vortigern, who arosebefore them all. This Vortigern came from Wales, and was earl in hisown land. He was a strong knight of his body, exceeding rich in goodsand kin. Very courteous was he of speech; right prudent in counsel;and long since had made straight the road that he coveted to tread. "What reason is here, " said he, "for doubtfulness? There is naughtelse to do but to make this monk, Constant, our king. He is therightful heir; his brothers are not long from the breast; neither isit fitting that the crown should be placed upon a stranger's head. Letus strip the gown boldly from his shoulders. I charge the sin upon myown soul. My hand alone shall draw him from the abbey, and set himbefore you as your king. " But all the lords of the council keptsilence, for a horrible thing it seemed in their eyes that a monkshould wear the mantle of a king. Vortigern, purposing evil in hisheart, took horse, and rode swiftly to Winchester. He sought Constantat the abbey, praying the prior of his courtesy that he might speakwith him in the parlour. "Constant, " said he, "thy father is dead, andmen seek to bestow his throne upon thy brothers. Such honour is notseemly, for thine is the crown and seat. If thou bearest me love andaffiance, and for thy part wilt promise to make richer all the richesthat are mine, on my part I will free thee from these sullen rags andarray thee in the purple and ermine of a king. Choose now betweenthis monastery and the heritage that is thine own. " Very desirous wasConstant of the lordship, and little love had he for his abbey. Rightweary was he of choir and psalter, and lightly and easily he made himready to be gone. He pledged oath and faith to all that Vortigernrequired, and after he had so done Vortigern took him with a stronghand from the monastery, none daring to gainsay his deed. WhenVortigern was assured of his fealty, he caused Constant to put off themonk's serge, and clothe him in furs and rich raiment. He carried himto London, and sat him in his father's chair, though not with thevoice and welcome of the people. The archbishop who should haveanointed the king with oil was dead, neither was any bishop found togive him unction, or to put his hand to the business. It was Vortigernalone who took the crown and set it on his head. This king had nounction nor blessing, save from the hand of Vortigern alone. 

Constant reigned in his father's stead. He who had betrayed thecommandment of God, was not one to hold his realm in surety; and thushe came to an evil end. Sorrow not thereat. The man who sells hismaster with a kiss may not hope to spend the wages of his sin. Vortigern held Constant and his senarchy in the hollow of his hand. The king did all according to his pleasure, and granted freely tohis every need. Very quickly, by reason of divers matters, Vortigernperceived that the king knew but little of the world, since he wasnourished in a cloister. He remembered that the two princes were oftender age. He saw that the mighty lords of the realm were dead, thatthe people were in sore trouble and unrest, and judged that the placeand time were come. Mark now the cunning craft with which he set aboutto take his seisin of the realm. "Sire, " said he, "I have learned andwould bring to your knowledge that the sea folk are gathered togetherfrom Norway, and from the country of the Danes. Since our knights arefew in number, and because of the weakness of the land, they purposeto descend upon the kingdom, and ravish and spoil your cities. Drawnow together thy men, to guard the realm and thee. Set food within thestrong places, and keep well thy towers. Above all, have such fear oftraitors that thy castles are held of none save those true men whowill hold them to the death. If you act not after this counsel rightspeedily there must reign another king. " "I have granted, " answeredConstant, "everything to thy hand, and have done all according to thywill. Take now this fresh burthen upon thee, for thou art wiser thanI. I give you all the realm to thy keeping, so that none shall ravageit or burn. Cities and manors; goods and treasure; they are thine asconstable. Thy will is my pleasure. Do swiftly that which it is seemlyshould be done. " Vortigern was very subtle. None knew better howto hide away his greed. After he had taken the strong towers, thetreasure, and the riches to himself, he went again before the king. "Sire, " said he, "if it seem good to the king, my counsel would bethat he should send to the Picts of Scotland to seek of them horsemenand sergeants to have with him about his household. In that placewhere the battle is perilous we can call them to our aid. Throughthese Picts and their kindred we shall hear the talk of the outlandmen. They will parley between us and these Danes, and serve as embassybetween us and our foes. " "Do, " replied the king, "at thy pleasure. Bring of these Picts as many as you wish. Grant them as guerdon whatyou deem befits. Do all which it is seemly should be done. "

When Vortigern had taken to himself the walled cities, and gatheredtogether the treasure, he sent such messages to the Picts as hedesired, so that they came according to his will. Vortigern receivedthem with much honour, giving them greatly to drink, so that theylived in mirth and in solace, altogether drunken and content. Of hisbounty Vortigern granted such wages, and spoke so sweetly in the earof each, that there was not one amongst them who did not cry loudlyin the hearing of any who would hearken, that Vortigern was morecourteous and of higher valiance than the king--yea, that he wasworthy to sit upon the king's throne, or in a richer chair than his. Vortigern rejoiced greatly at these words. He made much of his Picts, and honoured them more sweetly than ever before. On a day when theyhad sat long at their cups, and all were well drunken, Vortigern cameamongst them in the hall. He saluted them sadly, showing the semblanceof a woeful man. "Right dear are you to my heart;" said he, "verywillingly have I served you, and right gladly would I serve you still, if but the wealth were mine. But this realm belongs altogether to theking. Naught can I bestow, nothing is mine to spend, save only that Irender him account of every doit. So little revenue is mine of thisland, that it becomes me to seek my fortune beyond the sea. I have setmy whole intent to serve my king to the utmost of my might, and forrecompense have of him such estate that I can maintain scarce fortysergeants to my household. If all goes well with me we may meet again, for I commend me to your goodwill. This weighs heavily upon me thatI must leave you now. But, beggar as I am, I can do no other; only Ientreat you this, that if you hear my business has come to a fair end, you will of a surety seek my love again. " For all his piteous speechVortigern was false, and had falsely spoken, but those who had welldrunken gave faith to his words. They held for gospel truth what thisvile traitor had told them. They murmured together amongst themselves:"What then shall become of us, since we lose so generous a lord! Letus rather slay this mad king, this shaveling, and raise Vortigern tohis seat. Worthy is he of crown and kingdom; so on him we will castthe lot. Too long already have we suffered this renegade monk, whomnow we serve. " Forthwith they entered in the king's chamber, andlaying hands upon him, slew him where he stood. They smote the headfrom off his shoulders, and bare it to Vortigern in his lodging, crying, "Look now, and see by what bands we bind you to this realm. The king is dead, and we forbid you to go from amongst us. Take nowthe crown, and become our king. " Vortigern knew again the head of hislord. He made semblance of bitter sorrow, but rejoiced privily in hisheart, though of his cunning he hid his gladness from the eyes ofmen. To cover his falseness the deeper, Vortigern called the Romanstogether in council. He struck the heads from off those traitors, leaving not one to escape alive. But many a citizen was persuaded, andsome said openly, that these murderers would not have laid handsupon the king, neither looked evilly upon him, nor thought to do himmischief, had not Vortigern required of them such deed. 

When the death of the king was told to them who held the two brothersin ordinance, they were assured that he who slew the king would notscruple to serve the princes in the self-same fashion. For fear ofVortigern they took Aurelius and Uther, and fled beyond the sea toLittle Britain, commending themselves to the pity of Budes, the king. Since they were of his kin King Budes welcomed them right courteously. He received them to his table with great honour, and bestowed uponthem many rich gifts. Now having taken to himself the strong places, the castles, and the cities of the kingdom, Vortigern proclaimed himto be king with marvellous pride. His joy was the less because therealm was harassed by the Picts, who would avenge their kindred, whomhe had slain with the sword. Moreover he was sorely troubled, sinceit was noised abroad that the two princes were gathering a companytogether, purposing in a short space to return to their own land. Therumour ran that the barons were resolved to join this great host, andto own the brothers as their lords, so that in a while Vortigern wouldbe utterly destroyed. Many there were who told of such things. 

Whilst men talked thus, there came to a haven in Kent three galleys, bearing a strange people to the land. These folk were fair of face andcomely of person. They owned as lords Hengist and Horsa, two brethrenof mighty stature, and of outland speech. The tidings came toVortigern at Canterbury, where he abode that day, that a foreign folkfrom a far country had drawn to the realm in ships. The king sentmessages of peace and goodwill to these strangers, praying that bethey whom they might, they would come quickly and speak with him inhis palace, and return swiftly to their own place. When they receivedhis commandment they sought him with the more surety. They came intothe king's presence and did reverence, with a proud bearing. Vortigernlooked closely upon the brethren. Shapely were they of body, bright ofvisage, taller and more comely than any youth he knew. "From what landhave you come, " inquired the king, "and on what errand? Tell me nowthe place of your birth. " The elder and the mightier of the brethren, called Hengist, made answer in the name of all his fellows. "We be ofa country called Saxony, " said he, "there were we born and there weabode. If thou wilt learn the chance we seek upon the sea, I willanswer truly, if so it be according to thy will. " "Say on, " said theking, "and hide nothing. No harm shall come to thee of this. " "Fairking, " answered Hengist, "gentle sire, I know not if I can make itplain. Our race is of a fertile stock, more quick and abounding thanany other you may know, or whereof you have heard speak. Our folk aremarvellously fruitful, and the tale of the children is beyond measure. Women and men are more in number than the sand, for the greater sorrowof those amongst us who are here. When our people are so many that theland may not sustain nor suffice them, then the princes who rule therealm assemble before them all the young men of the age of fifteenyears and upwards, for such is our use and custom. From out of thesethey choose the most valiant and the most strong, and, casting lots, send them forth from the country, so that they may travel into diverslands, seeking fiefs and houses of their own. Go out they must, sincethe earth cannot contain them; for the children came more thickly thanthe beasts which pasture in the fields. Because of the lot that fellupon us we have bidden farewell to our homes, and putting our trust inMercury, the god has led us to your realm. " When the king heard thename of Mercury as the god of their governance, be inquired whatmanner of men these were, and of the god in whom they believed. "Wehave, " answered Hengist, "gods a many, to whom it is our bounden dutyto raise altars. These gods have to name Phoebus and Saturn, Jupiterand Mercury. Many another god we worship, according to the wont of ourcountry, and as our fathers have told us. But above all gods we keepin chiefest honour Mercury, who in our own tongue is called Woden. Ourfathers held this god in such reverence that they devoted the fourthday of the week to his service. Because of their hope in Woden theycalled his feast Wednesday, and yet it bears his name. By the side ofthis god of whom I have spoken, we set our goddess Freya, who isheld in worship of us all. To show forth their love, our fathersconsecrated the sixth day to her service, and on the high authority ofthe past we call Friday by Freya's name. " "Ill is your faith, " repliedthe king, "and in an evil god you put your trust. This thing isgrievous to me, but nevertheless I welcome your coming right gladly. You are valiant men, as I deem, accustomed to harness, and so you willbe my servants, very willingly will I make you of my household, and ofwealth you shall find no lack. Certain thieves from Scotland tormentme grievously at this time, burning my land and preying on my cities. So it be God's pleasure, your coming may turn to my rich profit, forby His aid and yours, I look to destroy these same Picts and Scots. For from that land come and return these thieves who so harass anddamage my realm. You shall find me no grudging master, and when I amavenged upon them, you will have no complaint to find with bounty orwages or gifts. " In this manner the Saxons came from out their ships, and the king's court was strengthened by a mighty company. Now in nolong time afterwards the Picts entered the king's realm, with a greathost, burning, wasting, and pilling at their will. When they wouldhave passed the Humber, the king, who was told thereof, hastened tomeet them with his lords, the Britons, and these Saxons. The hostscame together, and the battle was grim and lasting, for many werediscomfited to death that day. The Picts, doubting nothing butthat they would gain the victory as they had done before, carriedthemselves hardily, and struck fiercely with the sword. They foughtthus stoutly, and endured so painfully, since they were shamed to doless than was their wont. But their evil custom was broken, for theSaxons gained possession of the field. Since by these Saxons, andtheir aid, Vortigern was delivered of this peril, he gave them theirwages, and added thereto of his bounty. On Hengist he bestowed fairmanors, and goods, and great riches, so that love lasted between themfor a long space. 

When Hengist saw that the king might in no wise pass him by, he soughtto turn this to his own profit, as was his undoubted right. He knewwell how to flatter the king to his own advantage by specious words. On a day when the king's heart was merry, Hengist opened out what wasin his mind. "Thou hast given me many honours, " said he, "and bestowedon me plenteously of thy wealth. I am not ungrateful, but am thyservant and will remain thy servant, striving to serve thee better inthe future even than I have striven in the past. But the longer I amabout the king's person, and the more closely I know his court, themore clearly I see and hear and am assured that thou hast not the loveof one only baron of thy realm. Each bears thee hate, each nurses hisown grudge. I cannot speak, since nothing I know, of those childrenwho have stolen away the love of thine own house. They are the lawfullords of thy barons, and these are but loyal to the sons of theirking. Within a little they will come from over sea, and spoil thee ofthis realm. Not one of thy men but purposes to do thee a mischief. Evil they wish thee, and evil they hope will be thine end. Horriblyart thou abhorred; horribly art thou menaced; for evil is on thytrack, and evil purposes shortly to pull thee down. I have consideredhow best I may help thee in this peril. If it pleases the king tobring my wife and children and all that is mine from my own land, the sweeter hostages will be his, and the more faithful will be myservice. So diligently will I keep my trust that no foe, however bold, shall spoil thee of one foot of thy heritage Moreover, sire, it is nowa great while since I became thy servant, and many bear malice againstme by reason of thy love. Because of their wrath I dare not tarry atnight outside my house, nor go beyond the walls. For this cause, sire, so it may please thee, it would become thy honour to grant me sometown or tower or strong place, where I may lie in peace of nights, when I am weaned in the king's quarrels. When thy enemies mark thegenerosity of the king, they will cease to annoy so large a lord. " "Asto the folk of thine house, " made answer the king, "send thou atthy pleasure, and receive them with all worship. The cost of theirsustenance shall be mine. For the rest thou art not of the faith. Pagan thou art, and no Christian man Men, therefore, will deem that Ido very wrongfully should I grant thee the other gift you require. ""Sire, " replied Hengist, "I would of thy bounty a certain manor. Ipray thee of thy courtesy to add thereto so much land--I seek nomore--as I may cover with a hide, and as may be compassed therewith. It will be but the hide of a bull, but for the gift's sake I shall gothe more surely. " Vortigern granted the boon, and Hengist thanked hismaster. He made ready his messenger, and sent for his kindred fromoversea. He took the hide of a bull, and cutting it as small as hemight, made one thong of the whole skin. With this thong he compasseda great spoil of land, and gathering good masons together, builtthereon a fair castle. In his own tongue he called this placeVancaster, which being interpreted means Thong Castle, forasmuch asthe place was compassed by a thong. Now it is hight by many Lancaster, and of these there are few who remember why it was first called afterthis name. 

When Vancaster was well builded there drew near eighteen war galleys, bearing to land Hengist's kindred, together with knights and footmen. With these came Hengist's daughter, Rowena by name, a maiden yetunwed, and most marvellously fair. After all things were made readyHengist prayed the king to lodge with him awhile, that he mightdelight himself with meat and drink, and view the new folk of hishousehold, and the castle that he had builded. And the king waspleased to hearken unto his prayer. The king rode to Vancaster witha mean company, since he would not have it noised about the land. Hemarked the castle and its towers, which were both strong and fair, andmuch he praised the work. The knights who were freshly come from seahe took to his service, and gave of his bounty. At the feast that daymen ate and drank so greatly that for the most part they were drunken. Then came forth from her chamber Rowena, Hengist's daughter, sweetlyarrayed and right dainty to see, bearing in her hand a brimming cupof wine. She kneeled before Vortigern very simply, and saluted himcourteously after the fashion of her land, saying, "Washael, lordking. " The king, who knew nothing of her language, sought the meaningof the maiden's words. This was made plain to him by Redic, theBreton, a fair scholar, who--as it is related--was the first to becomeapt in the Saxon tongue. He answered swiftly, "The maiden saluted theecourteously, calling thee lord. It is the wont of her people, sire, that when friend drinks with friend, he who proffers the cup cries, 'Washael, ' and that he who receives answers in turn, 'Drinkhael'. Thendrinks he the half of this loving cup, and for joy and for friendshipof him who set it in his hand, kisses the giver with all fairfellowship. " When he had learned this thing, the king said"Drinkhael, " and smiled upon the damsel. Rowena tasted of the cup, andplaced it in the king's hand, and in taking it from the maiden theking kissed her sweetly. By the Saxon were we first taught inthis land to greet, saying, "Washael, " and afterwards to answer, "Drinkhael, " to drain the cup in full measure, or to share it withone other, to kiss together when the cup was passed. The custom wascommenced as I have shown you, and we observe this ritual yet, as wellI know, in the rich feasts of our country. 

Now the maiden was gracious of body, and passing fair of face, daintyand tall, and plump of her person. She stood before the king in a webof fine raiment, and ravished his eyes beyond measure. She filled theking's cup willingly, and was altogether according to his wish. Somerry was the king, so well had he drunken, that he desired thedamsel in his heart. The devil, who has led many a man astray, snaredVortigern with such sorcery, that he became mad with love to possessHengist's daughter. He was so fast in the devil's net that he sawneither shame nor sin in this love. He denied not his hope, though themaid was of pagans born. Vortigern prayed Hengist that he would granthim the maid in marriage, and Hengist accorded her with goodwill. Butfirst he took counsel with his brother and his friends. These praisedthe marriage, but counselled Hengist to give the damsel only on suchcovenant that the king should deliver him Kent as her dowry. The kingcoveted the maiden so greatly, he doted so dearly, that he made herhis queen. She was a pagan woman, and became his wife according tothe rites of the paynim. No priest blessed that marriage, there wasneither Mass nor prayer. So hot was the king's love that he espousedher the same evening, and bestowed on Hengist Kent as her dowry. 

Hengist went into Kent, and seized all the country into his hand. He drove forth Garagon, the governor, who had heard no word of thebusiness. Vortigern showed more credence and love to the heathenthan to christened men, so that these gave him again his malice, andabandoned his counsel. His own sons held him in hatred, forsaking hisfellowship because of the pagans. For this Vortigern had marrieda wife, who long was dead and at peace. On this first wife he hadbegotten three sons, these only. The first was named Vortimer, thesecond Passent, and the third Vortiger. Hated was this king by all thebarons of his realm, and of all his neighbours. His very kindred heldhim in abhorrence. He came to an evil end, for he died in his shame, and the pagans he befriended with him. "Sire, " said Hengist to theking, "men hold thee in hatred by reason of me, and because of thylove they bear me malice also. I am thy father, and thou my son, sincethou wert pleased to ask my daughter for thy wife. It is my privilegeto counsel my king, and he should hearken to my counsel, and aid me tohis power. If thou wilt make sure thy throne, and grieve those who usethee despitefully, send now for Octa my son, and for my cousin Ebissa. There are not two more cunning captains than these, nor two championsto excel them in battle. Give these captains of thy land towardsScotland, for from thence comes all the mischief. They will deal withthy foes in such fashion that never more shall they take of thyrealm, but for the rest of thy days we shall live in peace beyond theHumber. " Then answered the king, "Do what you will, and send messagesfor such men as it is good for us to have. " At the king's word Hengistsent messages to his son and nephew, who hastened to his help with afleet of three hundred galleys. There was not a knight of their land, who would serve for guerdon, but they carried him across the water. After these captains were come, in their turn, from day to day, camemany another, this one with four vessels, this other with five, orsix, or seven, or eight, or nine, or ten. So thickly did the heathenwend, and so closely did they mingle with the Christians, that youmight scarcely know who was a christened man and who was not. TheBritons were sorely troubled at this matter, and prayed the kingnot to put such affiance in the outland folk, for they wrought muchmischief. They complained that already were too many pagans in theland, working great shame and villainy to the people. "Separatethyself from amongst them, " they said, "at whatever cost, and sendall, or as many as may be, from the realm. " Vortigern made answer thathe might not do this thing. He had entreated the Saxons to the land, and they served him as true men. So when the barons hearkened to hiswords they went their way to Vortimer. 

The Britons assembled themselves together, and taking the road toLondon, chose Vortimer--the eldest of the king's three sons--to betheir lord. The king, who was assotted on his wife, clave to herkindred, and would not forsake the heathen. Vortimer defied theSaxons, and drove them from the walled cities, chasing and tormentingthem very grievously. He was a skilful captain, and the strife wasright sore between Vortimer and the Britons, against his father andthe Saxons. Four times the hosts met together, and four times Vortimervanquished his foe. The first battle was fought upon the banks of theDarent. The second time the hosts strove together was upon the fordnear Aylesford. In this place Vortiger, the king's son, and Horsa theSaxon, contended so fiercely in combat, body to body, that each didthe other to death, according to his desire. The other battle wasarrayed on the sea shore in Kent. Passing grim was this third battle, for the ships fought together upon the water. The Saxons withdrewbefore the Britons, so that from beyond the Humber even to Kent theywere deceived in their hope. The heathen fled in their galleys to anislet called Thanet. The Britons assailed them in this fastness, andso long as it was day, harassed them with arrows and quarrels, withships and with barges. They rejoiced loudly, for the pagans werecaught in a corner, and those not slain by the sword were fain to dieof hunger. For this reason, the Britons raised a mighty tumult andshouting, when they trapped their enemy in the Isle of Thanet. Whenthe Saxons were assured that worse would befall them, save theydeparted from the realm, they prayed Vortigern to go in embassy toVortimer his son, persuading him to give them safe conduct from theland, and not to do them further mischief. Vortigern, who was in theircompany and would in no wise depart from their fellowship, went to hisson to procure such truce as the Saxons required. Whilst he was aboutthis business the Saxons entered in their galleys, and with sail andoar put out to sea as swiftly as they were able. Such was their hasteto escape that they left their wives and sons with the Britons, returning to their own country in exceeding fear. After the Saxonshad all forsaken the realm, and the Britons were assumed of peace, Vortimer gave again to every man that of which the heathen had spoiledhim. To build anew the churches, and to declare the law of God, whichhad fallen into disuse amongst the people because of Hengist and hisheathendom, St. Germanus came to Britain, sent by St. Romanus, theApostle of Rome. With him came St. Louis of Troyes. These two fairbishops, Germanus of Auxerre and Louis of Troyes, crossed the seato prepare the way of the Lord. By them were the tables of the lawredelivered, and men converted again to the faith. They brought many aman to salvation; many a miracle, many a virtue, did God show in theirpersons, and many a country was the sweeter for their lives. When thelaw of God was restored, and Britain made again a Christian land, hearken now what foul work was done by treason and by envy. Rowena, that evil stepmother, caused Vortimer, her husband's son, to bepoisoned, by reason of the hatred she bore him, since he chasedHengist from the realm. After Vortimer was certified that he must die, and that no physician might cure him of his hurt, he called togetherall his barons, and delivered unto them the treasure which hehad greatly gathered. Listen well to that he prayed his friends. "Knights, " said he, "take into your service warriors not a few, andgrudge not the sergeant his wages. Hold one to another, and maintainthe land against these Saxons. That my work may not be wasted, andavenged upon those who live, do this thing for their terror. Take mybody, and bury it upon the shore. Raise above me such a tomb, so largeand lasting, that it may be seen from far by all who voyage on thesea. To that coast where my body is buried, living or dead, they shallnot dare to come. " Having spoken in this fashion the gentle king died, finishing his course. His body was borne to London, and in London hewas lain to his rest. The barons raised no barrow upon the shore, aswith his dying speech he had bidden them. 

After Vortimer's death, the Britons made Vortigern their king, evenas he had been in days before. At the entreaties of his wife he sentmessages to his father-in-law, Hengist. Him he prayed to return to thekingdom, but with a small company, so that the Britons should not giveheed to the matter; for since Vortimer his son was dead, there wasno need of a host. Hengist took ship gladly, but with him he carriedthree hundred thousand men in mail. For dread of the Britons, he madehim ready as never he had done before. When the king learned thatHengist drew to land with so mighty a host, he was altogether fearful, and knew no word to say. The Britons assembled together in greatwrath, promising amongst themselves that they would join them inbattle, and throw the heathen from the realm. Hengist was cunning andfelon of heart. He sent false messages to the king, praying for atruce and love-day to be granted, that they might speak together asfriend with friend. Peace above all he desired; peace he ensued; peacewas his love, and he sought her with tears. Nothing was further fromhis wish than war, and he would rather be banished from the realm thanremain by force of arms. It was for the Britons to elect those whomthey willed to stay, and for the others they would return whence theycame. The Britons granted the love-day, and the two peoples tookpledges, one of the other; but who can trust the oath of a liar? Atime was appointed when this council should be holden. The king sentmessages to Hengist that he must come with few companions; and Hengistplighted troth right willingly. Moreover, it was commanded that noneshould bear weapons at the council, for fear that men should passfrom words to blows. The two parties met together near the Abbey ofAmbresbury, on the great Salisbury plain. The day was the kalends ofMay. Hengist had taught his comrades, and warned them privily, thatthey should come each with a sharp, two-edged knife hidden in hishose. He bade them to sit in this Parliament, and hearken to the talk;but when he cried, "Nimad covre seax" (which being interpreted means"Pluck forth your knives, " and would not be understanded of theBritons), they were to snatch out their daggers and make each a deadman of his neighbour. Now when the council was met, and men weremingled together, the naked Briton near by the false heathen, Hengistcried loudly, "Nimad covre seax. " The Saxons, at his word, drew forththe knives from their hose, and slew that man sitting at their side. Hengist was seated very close the king. He held the king fast by hismantle, so that this murder passed him by. But those who gripped theknives thrust the keen blades through cloak and mantle, breast andbowels, till there lay upon back or belly in that place nigh upon fourhundred and sixty men of the richest and most valiant lords of thekingdom. Yet some won out and escaped with their lives, though theyhad naught to defend their bodies save the stones. 

Eldof, Earl of Gloucester, got a great club in his right hand, whichhe found lying at his feet, though little he recked who had carried itto the council. He defended his body stoutly with this mighty staff, striking and smiting down, till he had slain fully sixty and ten ofthe pagan. A mighty champion was he, and of rich worth. He clave apath through the press, without taking a wound; for all the kniveswhich were flung at his body he escaped with not a hurt to the flesh. He won at the end to his horse, which was right strong and speedy, and riding swiftly to Gloucester, shut himself fast in his city andvictualled tower. As to Vortigern, the Saxons would have slain himwith his barons, but Hengist stood between them, crying, "Harm not theking, for nothing but good have I received at his hand, and much hashe toiled for my profit. How then shall I suffer my daughter's lord todie such a death! Rather let us hold him to ransom, and take freelyof his cities and walled places, in return for his life. " They, therefore, slew not the king but binding him fast with fetters ofiron, kept him close in bonds for so long a space that he swore torender them all that they would. In quittance of his ransom, and tocome forth from prison, Vortigern granted Sussex, Essex, and Middlesexto Hengist as his fief, besides that earldom of Kent which he had heldbefore. To remember this foul treason, knives were long hight seaxamongst the English, but names alter as the world moves on, and menrecall no more the meaning of the past. In the beginning the word wasused to rebuke the treason that was done. When the story of the seaxwas forgotten, men spoke again of their knives, and gave no furtherthought to the shame of their forefathers. 

When Vortigern was a naked man he fled beyond the Severn, and passingdeeply into Wales, dwelt there, taking counsel with his friends. Hecaused his wise clerks and magicians to be summoned, inquiring of themin what fashion he should maintain his right, and what they wouldcounsel him to do, were he assailed of a mightier than himself. Thishe asked because he feared greatly the two brothers of Constant, whowere yet living, and knew not how to keep him from their hate. Thesesorcerers bade him to build so mighty a tower, that never at any timemight it be taken by force, nor beaten down by any engine devised bythe wit of man. When this strong castle was furnished and made ready, he should shut himself within, and abide secure from the malice of hisfoes. This pleased the king, who searched throughout the land to makechoice of a fitting place to raise so strong a keep. Such a place hemet, altogether according to his mind, on mount Erir. [1] He broughtmasons together, the best that might be found, and set them to thework as quickly as they were able. The masons began to build, gettingstones ready and making them fast with mortar, but all the work thatthe builders raised by day, adown it fell to the ground by night. They laboured therefore with the more diligence, but the higher theybuilded the tower the greater was its fall, to the very foundationsthey had digged. So it chanced for many days, till not one stoneremained upon another. When the king knew this marvel, and perceivedthat his travail came in nowise to an end, he took counsel of hiswizards. "By my faith, " said he, "I wonder sorely what may be amisswith my tower, since the earth will not endure it. Search and inquirethe reason of this thing; and how these foundations shall be madesure. "

[Footnote 1: Snowdon]

Then the magicians by their lots and divinations--though, for thatmatter, it may well be that they lied--devised that the king shouldseek a man born of no earthly father, him he must slay, and taking ofhis blood, slake and temper therewith the mortar of the work, so thatthe foundations should be made fast, and the castle might endure. Thereat the king sent messengers throughout all the land to seek sucha man, and commanded that immediately he were found he should becarried to the court. These messengers went two by two upon theirerrand. They passed to and fro about the realm, and entered intodivers countries, inquiring of all people, at the king's bidding, where he might be hid. But for all their labour and diligence theylearned nothing. Now it came to pass that two of the king's embassywent their road until they came together to the town calledCaermerdin. [1] A great company of youths and children was gatheredbefore the gate at the entrance to the city, and the messengers stayedawhile to mark their play. Amongst those who disported themselves atthis gate were two varlets, named Merlin and Dinabus. Presently thetwo youths began to chide and jangle, and were passing wroth the onewith the other. One of the twain spake ill of his fellow, reproachinghim because of his birth. "Hold thy peace, Merlin", said Dinabus, "itbecomes you not to strive with me, whose race is so much better thanthine own. Be heedful, for I know of such an evil matter that it werewell not to tempt me beyond my power. Speak then no more against mylineage. For my part I am come from earls and kings, but if you setout to tell over your kindred, you could not name even your father'sname. You know it not, nor shall learn it ever; for how may a son tellhis father's name when a father he has never had?" Now the king'smessengers, who were in quest of such a sireless man, when they heardthis bitter jibe of the varlet, asked of those around concerning theyouth who had never seen his sire. The neighbours answered that thelad's father was known of none, yea, that the very mother who hadborne him in her womb, knew nothing of the husbandman who had sown theseed. But if his father was hidden, all the world knew of the motherwho nourished him. Daughter was she to that King of Dimetia, now gonefrom Wales. Nun she was of her state, a gentlewoman of right holylife, and lodged in a convent within the walls of their city. 

[Footnote 1: Carmarthen. ]

When the messengers heard these tidings, they went swiftly to thewarden of the city, adjuring him, by the king's will, to lay handsupon Merlin--that sireless man--and carry him straightway to the king, together with the lady, his mother. The warden durst not deny theircommandment. He delivered Merlin and his mother to the embassy, wholed them before the king. The king welcomed the twain with muchhonour, and spoke kindly unto them. "Lady, " said he, "answer me truly. By none, save by thee, can I know who was the father of Merlin, thyson. " The nun bowed her head. After she had pondered for a little, shemade reply, "So God have me in His keeping, as I know nothing and sawnothing of him who begat this varlet upon me. Never have I heard, never may I tell, if he were verily man by whom I had my child. Butthis I know for truth, and to its truth will I pledge my oath. At thattime when I was a maid growing tall, I cannot tell whether it was aghostly man, but something came often to my chamber, and kissed mevery close. By night and by day this presence sought me, ever alone, but always in such fashion as not to be perceived. As a man he spakesoft words in my ear; as a man he dealt with me. But though many atime he had speech with me, ever he kept himself close. He came sooften about me, so long were his kisses on my mouth, that he had hisway, and I conceived, but whether he were man in no wise have I known. I had of him this varlet; but more I know not, and more I will notsay. "

Now the king had a certain clerk, named Malgantius, whom he held forvery wise. He sent for this learned clerk, and told over to him thewhole matter, that he might be assured whether things could chance asthis woman had said. The clerk made answer, "In books I have found itwritten that a certain order of spirit ranges between the moon and ourearth. If you seek to learn of the nature of these spirits, they areof the nature partly of man, and partly of a loftier being. Thesedemons are called incubi. Their home and region is the air, but thiswarm world is their resort. It is not in their power to deal man greatevil, and they can do little more mischief than to trick and to annoy. However they know well how to clothe themselves in human shape, fortheir nature lends itself marvellously to the deceit. Many a maid hasbeen their sport, and in this guise has been deceived. It may well bethat Merlin was begotten by such a being, and perchance is of a demonborn. " "King. " cried Merlin suddenly, "you brought me here; tell menow what you would, and wherefore you have sent after me. " "Merlin, "answered the king, "know it you shall. Hearken diligently, so shallyou learn of all. I commenced to build a high tower, and got mortartogether, and masons to set one stone upon another, but all the workthat the builders raised by day, adown it fell to the ground, and wasswallowed up of night. I know not if you have heard tell thereof. The day has not so many hours to labour, as the night has hours todestroy; and greatly has my substance been wasted in this toil. Mycouncillors tell me that my tower may never stand tall, unless itsstones and lime are slaked with thy blood--the blood of a fatherlessman. " "Lord God, " cried Merlin, "believe not that my blood will bindyour tower together. I hold them for liars who told over such a gab. Bring these prophets before me who prophesy so glibly of my blood, andliars as they are, liars I will prove them to be. " The king sent forhis sorcerers, and set them before Merlin. After Merlin had regardedthem curiously, one by one, "Masters, " said he, "and mighty magicians, tell us now I pray you the reason why the king's work faileth and maynot stand. If you may not show me why the tower is swallowed up ofthe earth, how can your divinations declare to you that my blood willcause it to endure! Make plain to us now what troubles the foundation, so that the walls tumble so often to the ground, and when you havecertified this thing, show to us clearly how the mischief may becured. If you are not willing to declare who labours secretly to makethe house to fall, how shall it be credited that my blood will bindthe stones fast? Point out this troubler to the king, and then cry theremedy. " But all the wizards kept silence, and answered Merlin never aword. When Merlin saw them abashed before him, he spake to the king, and said, "Sire, give ear to me. Beneath the foundations of your towerthere lies a pool, both great and deep, and by reason of this wateryour building faileth to the ground. Right easily may this be assured. Bid your men to delve. You will then see why the tower was swallowedup, and the truth will be proven. " The king bade therefore that theearth should be digged, and the pool was revealed as Merlin hadestablished. "Masters and great magicians, " cried Merlin, "hearkenonce more. You who sought to mix your mortar with my blood, say whatis hidden in this pond. " But all the enchanters kept silence and weredumb; yea, for good or ill they made answer never a word. Merlinturned him again to the king. He beckoned with his hand to the king'sservants, saying, "Dig now trenches, to draw off the water from thispool. At the bottom shall be found two hollow stones, and two dragonssleeping in the stones. One of these dragons is white, and his fellow, crimson as blood. " Thereat the king marvelled greatly, and thetrenches were digged as Merlin had commanded. When the water wascarried about the fields, and stood low in the pool, two dragons gotthem on their feet, and envisaged each the other very proudly. Passingeager was their contention, and they strove together right grievously. Well might be seen the foam within their mouths, and the flames thatissued from their jaws. The king seated himself upon the bank of thepool. He prayed Merlin to show him the interpretation of these dragonswhich met together so furiously. Merlin told the king what thesematters betokened, as you have oft-times heard. These dragonsprophesied of kings to come, who would yet hold the realm in theircharge. I say no more, for I fear to translate Merlin's Prophecies, when I cannot be sure of the interpretation thereof. It is good tokeep my lips from speech, since the issue of events may make my glossa lie. 

The king praised Merlin greatly, and esteemed him for a true prophet. He inquired of the youth in what hour he should die, and by what meanshe would come to his end. For this king was marvellously fearful ofdeath. "Beware, " said Merlin, "beware of the sons of Constantine. Bythem you shall taste of death. Already have they left Armorica withhigh hearts, and even now are upon the sea. Be certified of this, thattheir fleet of fourteen galleys comes to land on the morrow. Much evilhast thou done to them; much evil will they do to thee, and avengethem of their wrongs. In an ill day you betrayed their brother to hisdeath: in an ill day you set the crown on your head; in an ill day, toyour own most bitter loss, you entreated this Saxon heathenry to yourhelp. You are as a man against whom arrows are loosed, both this sideand that; and I know not whether your shield should be arrayed to leftor to right. On the one road the Saxon host draws near, eager to doyou a mischief. Along this other comes the rightful heirs, to pluckthe realm from your hand, the crown from your head, and to exact theprice of their brother's blood. If you yet may flee, escape quickly;for the brethren approach, and that speedily. Of these brethrenAurelius shall first be king, but shall also die the first, by poison. Uther Pendragon, his brother, will sit within his chair. He will holdthe realm in peace; but he, too, will fall sick before his time, anddie, by reason of the brewage of his friends. Then Arthur of Cornwall, his son, like to a boar grim in battle, will utterly devour thesefalse traitors, and destroy thy kinsfolk from the land. A rightvaliant knight, and a courteous, shall he be, and all his enemiesshall he set beneath his feet. " When Merlin had come to an end, hedeparted from Vortigern, and went his way. On the morrow, with nolonger tarrying, the navy of the brethren arrived at Totnes, andtherein a great host of knights in their harness. The Britonsassembled themselves together, and joined them to the host. They cameforth from the lurking places whence they had fled, at that timeHengist harried them by mount and by dale, after he had slain thelords by felony, and destroyed their castles. At a great council theBritons did homage to Aurelius as their king. These tidings came toVortigern in Wales, and he prepared to set his house in order. Hefled to a strong castle, called Generth, [1] and there made him ready, taking with him the most valiant of his men. This tower was on thebanks of a fair running water, called by the folk of that country theWye. It stood high upon Mount Droac, in the land of Hergin, as testifythe people of these parts. Vortigern furnished his fortress with aplenteous store of arms and engines, of food and sergeants. To keephimself the surer from his foes, he garnished the tower with all thatwit might devise. The lords of the country, having joined themselvesto the brethren, sought so diligently for King Vortigern, that in theend they arrayed them before the castle where he lay. They cast stonesfrom their engines, and were ever about the gates, paining themselvesgrievously to take it, for they hated him beyond measure. Much causehad the brethren to nurse so bitter a grudge against Vortigern, since by guile and treason he had slain their brother Constant, andConstantine, their father, before him, as all men held to be thetruth. Eldof, Earl of Gloucester, had done homage to Aurelius, and waswith him in the host. Much he knew of this land of Wales. "Eldof, "said Aurelius, "hast thou forgotten my father who cherished thee, andgave his faith to thee, and dost thou remember no more my brother whoheld thee so dear! These both honoured thee right willingly, with loveand with reverence in their day. They were foully slain by the deviceof this tyrant, this cozener with oaths, this paymaster with a knife. We who are yet alive must bestir ourselves that we perish not by thesame means. Let us think upon the dead, and take bitter vengeance onVortigern for these wrongs. "

[Footnote 1: In Hereford. ]

Aurelius and Eldof laced them in their mail. They made the wild fireready and caused men to cast timber in the moat, till the deep fossewas filled. When this was done they flung wild fire from their enginesupon the castle. The fire laid hold upon the castle, it spread to thetower, and to all the houses that stood about. The castle flared likea torch; the flames leaped in the sky; the houses tumbled to theground. In that place the king was burned with fire, and all hishousehold who fled to Generth with him. Neither dame nor damsel gother living from that pyre; and on the same day perished the king'swife, who was so marvellously fair. 

When the new king had brought the realm into subjection to himself, he devised to seek the pagans, that he might deliver the country fromtheir hand. Right fearful was Hengist to hear these tidings, and atonce set forth for Scotland. He abandoned all his fiefs, and fledstraightway beyond the Humber. He purposed to crave such aid andsuccour from the Scots as would help him in his need, and made hasteto get him to Scotland with all the speed he might. The king pursuedhim swiftly with his host, making forced marches day by day. On theroad his power was increased by a great company of Britons; till withhim was a multitude which no man could number, being innumerable asthe sand of the sea. The king looked upon his realm, and saw it gnawedto the bone. None drave the plough, nor cast seed in the furrow. Thecastles and the walled cities were breached and ruined. He marked thevillages blackened by fire, and the houses of God stripped bare as apeasant's hovel. The heathen pilled and wasted, but gathered neithercorn into barns nor cattle within the byre. He testified that thisshould not endure, so he returned in safety from the battle. 

When Hengist knew that the king followed closely after, and that fighthe must, he strove to put heart and hardihood into the breasts ofhis fellows. "Comrades, " said he, "be not dismayed by reason of thisrabble. We know well enough what these Britons are, since they neverstand before us. If but a handful go against them, not one will stayto fight. Many a time, with but a mean company, have I vanquished anddestroyed them. If they be in number as the sand, the more honour isyours. A multitude such as this counts nothing. A host like theirs, led by a weak and foolish captain, what is it worth? These are atrembling folk, without a chief, and of them we should have littlefear. The shepherd of these sheep is a child, who is yet too young tobear a spear, or carry harness on his back. For our part we are heroesand champions, proven in many a stour, fighting for our very lives, since for us there will be no other ransom. Now be confident and bold. Let our bodies serve us for castles and for wall. Be brave and strong, I say, for otherwise we are but dead men. " When Hengist ceasedheartening his comrades, the knights arrayed them for the battle. Theymoved against the Britons as speedily as their horses might bearthem, for they hoped to find them naked and unready, and to take themunawares. The Britons so misdoubted their adversary that they watchedin their armour, both day and night. As soon as the king knew that theheathen advanced to give battle, he ordered his host in a plain thatseemed good for his purpose. He supported the spearmen with threethousand horsemen, clothed in mail, his own trusty vassals, who hadcome with him from Armorica. The Welsh he made into two companies. Theone part he set upon the hills, so that the Paynim might not climbthere if they would. The other part he hid within the wood, to staythem if they sought shelter in the forest. For the rest he put everyman into the plain, that it should be the more strongly heldand defended. Now when he had arrayed the battle, and given hiscommandment to the captains, the king placed himself amidst the chosenmen of his own household, those whom he deemed the most loyal to hisperson. He spoke apart with his friends concerning the battle. EarlEldof was near the king's side that day, together with many anotherbaron. "God, " said Eldof, "what joy will be mine that hour whenHengist and I meet face to face, with none between us. I cannot forgetthe kalends of May, and that murder at Ambresbury, when he slew allthe flower of our chivalry. Right narrowly escaped I from his net"

Whilst Eldof spake these reproachful words, making complaint ofHengist, the Saxons drew near the field, and sought to take it. Withno long tarrying the battle was joined. What time the two hosts lookedon each other they hastened together. There you might see the vassalsstriving, hand to hand. They fought body to body, those assailing, these defending. Mighty blows with the sword were given and receivedamong them. Many a champion lay stark upon the ground, and the livingpassed over the bodies of the dead. Shields were hewn asunder; spearssnapped like reeds; the wounded were trampled beneath men's feet, andmany a warrior died that day. The Christians called on Christ, andthe heathen answered, clamouring on their gods of clay. Like men thepagans bore them, but the Christians like heroes. The companies ofthe heathen flinched, giving ground on the field. The Britonspressed about them, redoubling their blows, so that the Saxons werediscomfited, and turning their backs, strove no more. 

When Hengist saw his champions turn their backs, like children, tothe stroke, he fled to the town called Caerconan, [1] where he waspersuaded of shelter. The king followed fast after him, crying to thehunters, "On, on. " Hengist heard the noise of the pursuit, and had nocare to be trapped in his castle. Better to fight in the open at therisk of his body, than to starve behind walls, with none to bringsuccour. Hengist checked the rout, and rallying the host, set it againin order of battle. The combat was passing sharp and grievous, for thepagans advanced once more in rank and by companies. Each heartenedhis fellow, so that great damage and loss were sustained by theChristians. The host fell in disarray, and began to give back beforethe onset of the foe. All would have been lost were it not for thosethree thousand horsemen, who rode upon the Saxon in one mighty troop, bringing succour and help to the footmen when they were overborne. Thepagans fought starkly and grimly. Well they knew not one would escapewith his life, if they did not keep them in this peril. In the press, Eldof the Earl lighted on Hengist. Hatred gave him eyes, and he knewhim again because of the malice he owed him. He deemed that the timeand the means were come to satisfy his lust. Eldof ran in upon hisfoe, striking him mightily with his sword. Hengist was a stoutchampion, or he had fallen at the stroke. The two closed together, with naked brands and lifted shields, smiting and guarding. Men forgotto fight, and stared upon them, watching the great blows fall and thegleaming swords. 

Whilst the heroes strove, Gorlois, Earl of Cornwall, came hasteninglike a paladin to the battle. Eldof saw him come, and being assured ofthe end, arrayed himself against his adversary yet more proudly. Hesprang upon Hengist, and seizing him by the nasal of his helmet, dragged him, with fallen head, amongst the Britons. "Knights, " hecried, "thanks be to God Who has given me my desire. He is vanquishedand taken who has caused such trouble to the land. "

[Footnote 1: Conisburg in Yorkshire. ]

Eldof showed the captive to his company, who demanded that he shouldbe slain with the sword. "A short shrift for the mad dog, " theyclamoured, "who knows neither mercy nor pity. This is the source ofthe war. This is the shedder of blood. Smite the head from his body, and the victory is in your hands. " Eldof made answer that Hengistshould have the law, good law and just. He bound him fast in fetters, and delivered him to King Aurelius. The king chained him, hands andfeet, and set him in a strong prison to await judgment. 

Now Octa, Hengist's son, and Ebissa, his cousin, who were in thefield, hardly escaped from the battle, and fleeing, entered into York. They strengthened the city, and made all ready, till men might come totheir aid. As for the others they hid in divers places, in the woodsand valleys, in caves and in the hills. But the power of the paynimwas broken, for many were dead, and of the living most were taken, andin bonds, or held as thralls. The king made merry over his victory, and gave the glory to God. He abode three full days at Caerconan toheal the wounded of their hurt, and to give a little leisure to theweary. At that place he called a council of his captains, to know whatit were good to do with the traitor Hengist; whether he should beheld in prison or slain outright. Eldad got him to his feet. A rightlearned clerk was he, a bishop of his orders, and brother by blood tothat Earl Eldof, of whom you have heard. "My counsel to the king, "said the bishop, "is to do to the traitor Hengist--our earthlyadversary--that which holy Samuel did in old days to King Agag, whenhe was made captive. Agag was a prince, passing proud, the rightglorious king of the people of Amalek. He set a quarrel upon the Jews, that he might work them a mischief, since he sought to do them evil. He seized their lands; he burned their goods with fire, and very oftenhe slew them for his pleasure. Then on a day this King Agag was takenat a battle, the more to his sorrow. He was led before Saul, whomthese Jews so greatly desired for their king. Whilst Saul wasconsidering what it were well should be done with Agag, who wasdelivered into his hand, Samuel stood upon his feet. This Samuel was aholy prophet of Israel; a saint of God of the utmost sanctity; neverhas there lived his like amongst the sons of men. This holy Samuelseized on Agag, the proud king. He hewed him in many pieces, dividinghim limb from limb, and his members he sent throughout the realm. Hearken and learn what Samuel said whilst he was hewing Agag small. 'Agag, many a man hast thou tormented for thy pleasure; many a fairyouth hast thou spoiled and slain. Thou hast drawn out many a soulfrom its body, and made many a mother troubled for her son. Many ababe hast thou rendered fatherless; but, O Agag, things evil and goodcome to the like end. Now your mother presently will I make barren, and from thy body shall the soul of thee be wrung. ' Mete therefore toyour captive, O king, the measure which Samuel counted out to his. "Eldof, Earl of Gloucester, was moved by the example furnished by thebishop. He rose in the council, and laying hands on Hengist led himwithout the city. There Eldof struck the head from Hengist with hisown sword. The king caused the head to be set again on the shoulders, and gave Hengist's body seemly burial, according to the rite andfashion of those who observe the law of the paynim. 

The king made no long stay at Caerconan, but followed eagerly afterhis enemies. He came to York with a great host, and sat himself downbefore the city. Octa, the son of Hengist, was within, and some of hiskindred with him. When Octa was persuaded that none might win to hisaid, he considered within himself whether he should render him to theking's mercy. If he took his fate in his hand, and humbly besoughtpity of the king, so mercy were given him all would be well, but ifhis prayer was scorned, then he would defend himself to the death. Octa did as he devised, and as his kinsfolk approved. He came forthfrom the gate of the city with a company of all his barons. Octawore a chain of iron upon his wrists, and walking at the head of hiscompanions, came first to the king. "Sire, " said he, "I beseech youfor mercy and pity. The gods in whom we put our trust have failed usat need. Your gods are mightier than they. They have wrought wonders, and set strength upon you, since we are stricken to the dust. I amvanquished, and own myself thy servant. Behold the chain of thybondman! Do with me now according to thy will, to me, and these mymen. Life and limb, yea, all that we have, are at thy pleasure. Butif it seem good to the king to keep us about his person, we willtoil early and late in his service. We will serve him loyally in hisquarrels, and become his liege men. "

The king was a devout man, very piteous of heart. He looked aroundhim to learn what his barons thought of this matter and what would betheir counsel. Eldad, the fair bishop, spake first as a wise elder. "Good it is, and was, and ever shall be, to show mercy on him whorequires mercy to be shown. He who forgives not another his trespass, how may he hope that God will pardon him his sin? These cry loudlyupon thee for mercy, mercy they implore, and mercy they must have. Britain is a great realm, long and wide, and in many a place isinhabited of none, save the beast. Grant them enough thereof that theymay dig and plant, and live of the increase. But take first of themsuch hostages, that they will serve thee loyally, and loyally contentthem in their lot. We learn from Holy Writ that the children of Gibeonsought life and league from the Jew when the Israelites held them intheir power. Peace they prayed, peace they received; and life andcovenant were given in answer to their cry. A Christian man should notbe harder than the Jew proved himself to be in his hour. Mercy theycrave, mercy they should have; so let not death deceive them in theirhope. "

The king granted land to the Saxons, according to the counsel of EldadThe lot was appointed them in Scotland, and they set out speedilyto the place where they must dwell. But first they gave to the kinghostages of the children of their proudest blood and race. After theking was fifteen days in the city, he sent messages commanding hispeople to attend him in council. Baron and clerk, abbot and bishop, hesummoned to his court. At this council the rights of the heir and theprivileges of the orders were re-affirmed. He bade and assured thatthe houses of religion, destroyed by the Romans, should be rebuilt. Hedismissed his soldiers to their homes, making viscounts and provoststo keep his fiefs in peace, and to ensure his revenues and rent. Hesought masons and carpenters and built anew the churches. Such chapelsin his realm as were hurt or damaged in the wars, the king restored totheir former estate, for the fairer service and honour of God. Afterthe council was done the king set forth towards London, where hispresence was greatly desired of the citizens. He found the city butthe shadow of its former splendour, for the streets were emptied ofpeople, and houses and churches were alike fallen or decayed. Rightgrievously the king lamented the damage done to his fair city. Hefounded anew the churches, and bade clerks and burgesses to attend theservice of God, as was of wont and right. From thence the king went toAmbresbury, that he might kneel beside the graves of those who werefoully slain at Hengist's love-day, near the abbey. He called togethera great company of masons, carpenters, and cunning artificers; for itwas in his mind to raise to their worship a monument of stone thatwould endure to the world's end. 

Thereat spake to the king a certain wise man, Tremonius, Archbishop ofCaerleon, praying him to send for Merlin, and build according to hisbidding, since there was none so skilled in counsel or labour, moretruthful of word or apter in divination. The king desired greatly tobehold Merlin, and to judge by hearing of his worth. At that timeMerlin abode near the Well of Labenes. This fountain springs in ahidden place, very deep in Wales, but I know not where, since I havenever been. Merlin came straightway to the king, even as he wasbidden. The king welcomed him with marvellous joy, honouring him rightgladly. He cherished him richly, and was ever about him with prayersand entreaties that he would show him somewhat of things that were yetto come, for these he was on itch to hear. "Sire, " replied Merlin, "this I may not do. I dare not open my lips to speak of such awfulmatters, which are too high for me, save only when needs speak I must. Should my tongue be unloosed by greed or lightness, should I be puffedup by vanity, then my familiar spirit--that being by whom I knowthat which I know--would withdraw his inspiration from my breath. Myknowledge would depart from me, and the words I speak would be noweightier than the idle words on every gossip's lips. Let the futuretake care of itself. Consider rather the concerns of to-day. If thouart desirous to make a fair work and a lasting, of which men will bragtill the end of time, cause to be brought hither the carol that agiant wrought in Ireland. This giant laboured greatly in the buildingof a mighty circle of stones. He shaped his carol, setting the stonesone upon another. The stones are so many, and of such a kind; they areso huge and so weighty; that the strength of man--as men are in thesetimes--might not endure to lift the least of his pebbles" The kinglaughed loudly. "Merlin, " said he, "since these stones are of suchheaviness that it passes the strength of the strong to move them, whoshall carry them to my masons? Have we not in this realm stones mightyenough, and to spare?" "King, " answered Merlin, "knowest thou not thatwit is more than strength! Muscle is good, but craft is better. Skilldevises means when strength fails. Cunning and engines bring manymatters to a good end, that strength would not venture even to begin. Engines can move these stones, and by the use of engines we may makethem our own. King, these stones were carried from Africa: there theywere first shapen. The giant who ravished them to Ireland, set up hiscarol to his own content. Very serviceable were these stones, andright profitable to the sick. It was the custom of the surgeons ofthat land to wash these stones with fair water. This water they wouldmake hot in baths, and set therein those who had suffered hurt, orwere grieved by any infirmity. They washed in this water, and werehealed of their sickness. However sore their wound, however grievoustheir trouble, other medicine needed they none. " When the king and hisBritons heard of the virtue residing in the stones, they all desiredthem very greatly. Not one but would gladly have ventured on the questfor these stones, of which Merlin told such marvels. They devisedtherefore to pass the sea with fifteen thousand men to make war uponthe Irish, and to ease them of the stones. Uther, at his own desire, was chosen as their captain. Merlin also went with them to furnishengines for their toil. So Uther and his company crossed to Ireland onsuch quest. When the King of Ireland, that men called Guillomer, heard tell that strangers were arrayed in his land, he assembled hishousehold and the Irish, and menaced them proudly, seeking to chasethem from the realm. After they had learned the reason of thisquarrel, and that for stones the Britons were come, they mocked themloudly, making them their mirth and their song. For mad it seemed inthe eyes of these Irish that men should pain themselves so grievouslyby land and sea to gain a treasure of naked stones. "Never a stone, "said these, "shall they have; not one shall they carry with them totheir homes. " Very lightly you may scorn your enemy in your heart, butat your peril you seek to do him mischief with your hands. The Irishmocked and menaced the stranger, and sought him until they found. Thecombat was joined directly the hosts met together, but the Irishwere men of peace, unclad in mail, and not accustomed to battle. TheBritons were their jest, but they were also their victors. The King ofIreland fled from the battle discomfited. He went from town to town, with no long tarrying in any place, so that the Britons might not makehim their captive. 

After the Britons had laid aside their armour, and taken rest from thebattle, they were brought by Merlin, their companion, into a mountainwhere the carol was builded. This high place was called Hilomar, [1] bythe folk whom they had vanquished, and the carol was upon the summitof the mount. The Britons stared upon the stones. 

[Footnote 1: Kildare. ]

They went about them, saying each to his fellow that none had seen somighty a building. They marvelled how these stones were set one uponanother, and how they should be got across the sea. "Comrades, " saidMerlin, "you are strong champions. Strive now if of your strength youmay move these stones, and carry them from their seat. " The young mentherefore encompassed the stones before, behind, and on every side, but heave and tug as mightily as they could, the stones for all theirtravail would not budge one single inch. "Bestir yourselves, " criedMerlin, "on, friends, on. But if by strength you can do no more, thenyou shall see that skill and knowledge are of richer worth than thewsand fleshly force. " Having spoken these words Merlin kept silence, andentered within the carol. He walked warily around the stones. His lipsmoved without stay, as those of a man about his orisons, though Icannot tell whether or no he prayed. At length Merlin beckoned to theBritons. "Enter boldly, " cried he; "there is nought to harm. Now youmay lift these pebbles from their seat, and bear and charge them onyour ships. " So at his word and bidding they wrought as Merlin showedthem. They took the stones and carrying them to the ships, bestowedthem thereon. Afterwards the mariners hoisted their sails, and set outfor Britain. When they were safely come to their own land, they borethe stones to Ambresbury, and placed them on the mountain near bythe burying ground. The king rode to Ambresbury to Keep the Feast ofPentecost. Bishops, abbots, and barons, he had bidden them all toobserve the Feast. A great company of folk, both rich and poor, gathered themselves together, and at this fair festival the king setthe crown upon his head. Three days they observed the rite, and mademerry. On the fourth--because of his exceeding reverence--he gavepastoral crosses to two prelates. Holy Dubricius became Bishop ofCaerleon, and York he bestowed upon holy Sampson. Both these fairprelates were great churchmen, and priests of devout and spotlesslife. At the same time Merlin ranged the stones in due order, buildingthem side by side. This circle of stones was called by the Britons intheir own tongue The Giant's Carol, but in English it bears the nameof Stonehenge. 

When the rich feast was come to its appointed end, the court departed, each man unto his own place. Now Passent, that was a son of Vortigern, had fled from Wales and Britain, for fear of Aurelius and his brotherUther. He sought refuge in Germany, and there purchased to himselfships, and men who would serve him for guerdon; but of these he had nogreat company. This Passent arrived in the north country and ravagedit, burning the towns and spoiling the land. He dared make no longstay, for the king hastened to the north to give him battle, and thishe might not endure. Passent took again to his ships, and fearing toreturn whence he came, fared so far with sail and oar that in the endhe cast anchor off the coast of Ireland. Passent sought speech of theking of that realm. He told over his birth and state, and showed himhis bitter need. Passent prayed the king so urgently; the twain tooksuch deep counsel together; that it was devised between them to passthe sea, and offer battle to the Britons. This covenant was made ofPassent that he might avenge his father's death, and dispute hisheritage with Aurelius; but of the King of Ireland to avenge him uponthe Britons, who had vanquished him in battle, robbed his folk, andtaken to themselves the carol with a strong hand. Thus they plightedfaith to satisfy each the other for these wrongs. Guillomer andPassent made ready as many soldiers as they might. They ordained theirships, and with a fair wind crossed the sea, and came safely to Wales. The host entered in Menevia, that city so praised of the Welsh, andnow called of men, Saint David. It befell that King Aurelius lay sickat Winchester. His infirmity was sore upon him, for the trouble waslong and grievous, and the surgeons knew not whether he would mend ordie. When Aurelius learned that Passent and the King of Ireland werecome together in Wales to make sorrow in the land, he sent for Utherhis brother. He grieved beyond measure that he could not get him fromhis bed. He charged Uther to hasten into Wales, and drive them fromthe realm. Uther sent messages to the barons, and summoned the knightsto the war. He set out from Winchester; but partly by reason of thelong journey, and partly to increase the number of his power, hetarried for a great while upon the road. Very long it was before hearrived in Wales. Whilst he dallied in this fashion a certain pagannamed Appas, a man born in Saxony, craved speech of Passent. ThisAppas was meetly schooled, and apt in parts. He spoke to many peoplein their own tongues; he was wise in all that concerned medicine andsurgery; but he was felon and kept bad faith. "Passent, " said Appasprivily, "thou hast hated this King Aurelius for long. What shouldbe mine if I were to slay him?" "Ease and riches I will give thee, "answered Passent. "Never a day but I will stand thy friend, so onlythy word be fulfilled, and the king taste death at thy hand" "May yourword, " said Appas, "be true as mine" So the covenant was ordainedbetween them that Passent should count out one thousand livres, whattime Appas had done to death the king Appas was very cunning, andright greedy and covetous of wealth. He put upon him a habit ofreligion; he shaved his crown, and caused his hair to be polled closeto his head. Like a monk he was shaven, like a monk he seemed; in gownand hood he went vested as a monk. In this guise and semblance Appastook his way to the royal court. Being a liar he gave out that he wasa good physician, and thus won to the king's bed. Him he promised tomake whole very speedily, if he would trust himself to his hand. Hecounted the pulse, and sought for the trouble "Well I know, " said he, "the cause of this evil. I have such a medicine as will soon giveyou ease. " Who could misdoubt so sweet a physician? The gentle kingdesired greatly to be healed of his hurt, as would any of you ina like case. Having no thought of treason, he put himself in thistraitor's care. Appas made ready a potion, laced with venom, and gavethe king to drink. He then wrapped the king warmly in a rich coverlet, and bade him lie in peace and sleep. After the king was heated, andthe poison had lain hold upon his body, ah, God, the anguish, therewas nothing for him but death. When Aurelius knew that he must die, hetook oath of his household, that so truly as they loved him they wouldcarry his body to Stonehenge, and bury him within the stones thathe had builded. Thus died the king and was buried; but the traitor, Appas, escaped and fled with his life. 

Uther entered in Wales with his host, and found the folk of Irelandabiding yet at Menevia. At that time appeared a star, which was seenof many. This star was hight Comet, and according to the clerks itsignified death and the passing of kings. This star shone marvellouslyclear, and cast a beam that was brighter than the sun. At the endof this beam was a dragon's head, and from the dragon's mighty jawsissued two rays. One of these rays stretched over France, and wentfrom France even to the Mount of St. Bernard. The other ray wenttowards Ireland, and divided into seven beams. Each of these sevenbeams shone bright and clear, alike on water and on land. By reason ofthis star which was seen of all, the peoples were sorely moved. Uther marvelled greatly what it might mean, and marvellously was hetroubled. He prayed Merlin that he would read him the sign, and theinterpretation thereof. Merlin answered not a word. Sorrow had him bythe heart, and he wept bitterly. When speech returned to his mouth helamented with many words and sighed often. "Ah, God, " said he, "sorrowand trouble and grief have fallen on Britain this day. The realm haslost its great captain. The king is dead--that stout champion who hasdelivered the land from such evil and shame, and plucked his spoilfrom the pagan. "

When Uther was certified that his brother and good lord had finishedhis course, he was right heavy, and much was he dismayed. But Merlincomforted him as he might. "Uther, " said he, "be not altogether castdown, since from Death there is no return. Bring to an end thisbusiness of the war. Give battle to thine enemies, for to-morrow shallsee Passent and the King of Ireland vanquished. Fight boldly on themorrow; so shalt thou conquer, and be crowned King of Britain. Hearkento the interpretation of the sign. The dragon at the end of the beambetokens thee thyself, who art a stout and hardy knight. One of thetwo rays signifies a son born of thy body, who shall become a puissantprince, conquering France, and beyond the borders of France. The otherray which parted from its fellow, betokens a daughter who shall beQueen of Scotland. Many a fair heir shall she give to her lord, andmighty champions shall they prove both on land and sea. " Uther lenthis ear to the counsel of Merlin. He caused his folk to rest them thenight, and in the morning arm them for the battle. He thought to takethe city by assault, but when the Irish saw him approach their walls, they put on their harness, and setting them in companies, issued forthto fight without the gates. The Irish fought valiantly, but right soonwere discomfited, for on that day the Britons slew Passent, and theKing of Ireland, his friend. Those who escaped from the field fledtowards the sea, but Uther following swiftly after, harried them tothe death. Such as reached the water climbed wildly upon their ships, and with sail and oar set out to sea, that Uther should work them nomore mischief. 

When Uther had brought his business to a good end, he took his waytowards Winchester, and the flower of his chivalry with him. On hisroad a messenger met him who told him of a surety the king was dead, and as to the manner of his death. He related how the bishops had laidAurelius to rest with great pomp in the Giant's Carol, even as he hadrequired of his sergeants and barons whilst he was yet alive. At thesetidings Uther pressed on to Winchester, sparing not the spur. Thepeople came before him on his passage clamouring shrilly. "Uther, sire, " cried the common folk, "since he is dead who maintained thepoor, and did nought but good to his people, we have none to defendus, save thee. Take then the crown, as thine by heritage and right. Fair sire, we thy poor commons pray this thing, who desire nothing butthy worship and thy gain. " Uther rejoiced greatly at their words. Hesaw clearly where his profit lay, and that no advancement is possibleto a king. He hastened, therefore, to do as the folk entreated. Hetook the crown, and becoming king, loved well his people, and guardedthe honour of the realm. In remembrance of the dragon, and of thehardy knight who should be king and a father of kings, which itbetokened, Uther wrought two golden dragons, by the counsel of hisbarons. One of these dragons he caused to be borne before him when hewent into battle. The other he sent to Winchester to be set up in thechurch of the bishop. For this reason he was ever after called UtherPendragon. Pendragon was his name in the Britons' tongue, but Dragon'shead in that of Rome. 

Uther was a mighty lord, who had confidence in his power. His sacringat Winchester he held for proof and token that he was a king who wouldbeget puissant princes, by whom great deeds should be done. This faithin his destiny gave him increase of strength. He determined in hisheart that he would accomplish all that was foretold of him, and thatthrough good report and ill, never would he turn back. He knew and waspersuaded that whatever the task he took in hand, he must in fulnessof time bring it to a good end. Merlin was a true prophet; and sinceno lying spirit was in his mouth, it was impossible to doubt that veryswiftly all these things would come to pass. 

Now Octa, the son of Hengist, had received from Aurelius broad landsand fair manors for him and his companions. When Octa knew that themighty captain was dead, he kept neither loyalty nor faith with a kingwhom he despised in his heart. He called together a great company ofhis friends and kinsmen, and amongst them Ossa, his cousin. Octa andOssa were hardy champions, and they were the lords of the host. Withthem moreover were such folk as had escaped from Uther at the slayingof Passent. These Octa had taken to himself, so that his fellowshipwas passing strong. This host overran the realm from Humber toScotland, and subdued it in every part. Octa then came before York, and would have seized it by violence, but the burgesses of the cityheld it stoutly against him, so that the pagans might not enter withinthe walls. He sat down, therefore, before the gates, and invested thecity straitly, by reason of the numbers of his host. Uther had nothought but to succour his city, and to rescue his friends who wereshut within. He marched hot foot to York, calling his men togetherfrom every part. Being resolved at all cost to force the heathen togive over the siege, Uther offered them battle without delay. TheMelly was right sharp and grievous. Many a soul was parted from thebody. The heathen played their parts as men, and contended boldly withthe sword. The Britons could do them no mischief. They might not forcetheir way into the city, neither could those within prevail to issueforth. The Batons might endure the battle no longer. They gave back inthe press, and as they fled, the pursuing Saxons did them marvellousdamage. The pursuit lasted until the Britons took refuge in a fastnessof those parts, and the night parted the adverseness one from theother. This mountain was named Damen. The peak was very sharp. Aboutits flanks were rocks and precipices, whilst close at hand stood athicket of hazel trees. Upon this mountain the Britons climbed. Bythis way and that, they ascended the height, until they sought safetyon the summit. There the heathen shut them fast, for they sat beneaththem in the plain, whilst all about them stretched the mountain. 

The king was very fearful, and not for himself alone. He was in sorestraits and perplexity as to what he should do to get his spearmenfrom the trap. Now Gorlois, Earl of Cornwall, was with the king. Thislord was very valiant and courteous, though stricken in years, and wasesteemed of all as a right prudent councillor. To him the king went, and unravelled all the coil. Uther prayed Gorlois to counsel him asbecame his honour, for he knew well that the earl regarded honourbeyond the loss of life or limb. "You ask me my counsel, " saidGorlois. "My counsel--so it be according to your will--is that weshould arm ourselves forthwith, and get down from this hill amongstour foes. They are assuredly sleeping at this hour, for they despiseus overmuch to deem that we shall challenge them again to battle. Inthe morning they will come to seek us--so we await them in the trap. Let us take our fate in our hands like men, and fall upon themsuddenly. The foe will then be confused and bewildered, for we mustcome upon them silently, without battle cry or blowing of trumpets. Before they are awakened from sleep, we shall have slain so many inour onset, that those who escape from our swords will not dare torally against us in their flight. Only this thing first. Let every manhave penitence for that he has done amiss. Let us ask God's pardon forthe sins that we have wrought, and promise faithfully to amend ourlives. Let us turn from the wickedness wherein we have walked allthese days; praying the Saviour to hold us in His hand, and grant usstrength against those who fear not His name, and make war upon HisChristians. If we do these things God will sustain our quarrel; and ifGod be with us who then can do us wrong?"

This counsel seemed good to the king and his captains. They did asGorlois said, and humbled themselves before God with a contrite heart, promising to put away the evil from their lives. After they had madean end of prayer, they took their arms, and stole down the hillside tothe valley. The Britons came amongst the pagans lying naked upon theground, and fast in sleep. The swordplay was right merry, for theslaughter was very great. The Britons thrust their glaives deep in thebreasts of the foe. They lopped heads and feet and wrists from theirbodies. The Britons ranged like lions amongst their enemies. They wereas lions a-hungered for their prey, killing ewes and lambs, and allthe sheep of the flock, whether small or great. Thus the Britonsdid, for they spared neither spearman nor captain. The heathen werealtogether dismayed. They were yet heavy with sleep, and could neitherget to their harness, nor flee from the field. No mercy was shown themfor all their nakedness. Armed or naked the sword was thrust throughtheir breast or heart or bowels. In that place the heathen perishedfrom the land, since the Christians destroyed them utterly. Octa andOssa, the lords of their host--these troublers of Britain--were takenalive. They were led to London, and set fast in a strong prison, boundin iron. If any of their fellows escaped from the battle, it was onlyby reason of the blackness of the night. He who was able to flee, ranfrom the field. He tarried not to succour his own familiar friend. Butmany more were slam in that surprise than got safely away. 

When Uther parted from York he passed throughout Northumberland. FromNorthumberland he entered into Scotland, having many ships and a greathost with him. He went about the length and breadth of the land, andpurged it throughly in every part. Such folk as were oppressed oftheir neighbours he confirmed in their rights. Never before had therealm such rest and peace as in the days of Uther the king. AfterUther had brought his business in the north to an end, he set forthto London, where he purposed to take the crown on Easter Day. Utherdesired the feast to be very rich and great. He summoned thereforedukes, earls, and wardens, yea, all his baronage from near and far, by brief and message, to come with their wedded dames and privyhouseholds to London for his feast. So all the lords came at theking's commandment, bringing their wives as they were bidden. Veryrichly the feast was holden. After the Mass was sung, that faircompany went in hall to meat. The king sat at the head of his hall, upon a dais. The lords of his realm were ranged about him, each in hisorder and degree. The Earl of Cornwall was near the king's person, sothat one looked upon the other's face. By the earl's side was seatedIgerne, his wife. There was no lady so fair in all the land. Rightcourteous was the dame, noble of peerage, and good as she was fair. 

The king had heard much talk of this lady, and never aught but praise. His eyes were ravished with her beauty. He loved her dearly, andcoveted her hotly in his heart, for certainly she was marvellouslypraised. He might not refrain from looking upon her at table, and hishope and desire tyrned to her more and more. Whether he ate or drank, spoke or was silent, she was ever in his thought. He glanced aside atthe lady, and smiled if she met his eye. All that he dared of lovehe showed. He saluted her by his privy page, and bestowed upon her agift. He jested gaily with the dame, looking nicely upon her, and madea great semblance of friendship. Igerne was modest and discreet. Sheneither granted Uther's hope, nor denied. The earl marked well theselookings and laughings, these salutations and gifts. He needed noother assurance that the king had set his love upon his wife. Gorloisdeemed that he owed no faith to a lord who would supplant him in herheart. The earl rose from his seat at table; he took his dame by thehand, and went straight from the hall. He called the folk of hishousehold about him, and going to the stables, got him to horse. Uthersent after Gorlois by his chamberlain, telling him that he did shameand wrong in departing from the court without taking leave of hisking. He bade him to do the right, and not to treat his lord sodespitefully, lest a worse thing should befall him. He could have butlittle trust in his king, if he would not return for a space. Gorloisrode proudly from the court without leave or farewell. The kingmenaced him very grievously, but the earl gave small heed to histhreats, for he recked nothing of what might chance. He went intoCornwall, and arrayed his two castles, making them ready against thewar. His wife he put in his castle of Tintagel, for this was the homeof his father and of his race. It was a strong keep, easily holden ofa few sergeants, since none could climb or throw down the walls. Thecastle stood on a tall cliff, near by the sea. Men might not win toenter by the gate, and saving the gate, there was no door to enter inthe tower. 

The earl shut his lady fast in the tower. He dared hide his treasurein no other place, lest thieves broke through, and stole her from him. Therefore he sealed her close in Tintagel. For himself he took therest of his men-at-arms, and the larger part of his knights, and rodeswiftly to the other strong fortress that was his. The king heard thatGorlois had garnished and made ready his castle, purposing to defendhimself even against his lord. Partly to avenge himself upon the earl, and partly to be near his vassal's wife, the king arrayed a greathost. He crossed the Severn, and coming before the castle where theearl lay, he sought to take it by storm. Finding that he might notspeed, he sat down before the tower, and laid siege to those within. The host invested the castle closely for full seven days, but couldnot breach the walls. The earl stubbornly refused to yield, for heawaited succour from the King of Ireland, whom he had entreated to hisaid. King Uther's heart was in another place. He was weaned beyondmeasure of Gorlois and his castle. His love for Igerne urged andcalled him thence, for the lady was sweeter to his mind than any otherin the world. At the end he bade to him a baron of his household, named Ulfin, who was privy to his mind. Him he asked secretly of thatwhich he should do. "Ulfin, " said the king, "my own familiar friend, counsel me wisely, for my hope is in thee. My love for Igerne hathutterly cast me down I am altogether broken and undone. I cannot go orcome about my business; I cannot wake nor sleep, I cannot rise from mybed nor lay my head on the pillow; neither can I eat or drink, exceptthat this lady is ever in my mind. How to gain her to my wish I cannottell. But this I know, that I am a dead man if you may not counsel meto my hope. " "Oh my king, " answered Ulfin, "I marvel at your words. You have tormented the earl grievously with your war, and have burnedhis lands. Do you think to win a wife's heart by shutting her husbandclose in his tower? You show your love for the dame by harassing thelord! No, the matter is too high for me, and I have one only counselto give you. Merlin is with us in the host. Send after him, for he isa wise clerk, and the best counsellor of any man living. If Merlin maynot tell you what to do, there is none by whom you may win to yourdesire. "

King Uther, by the counsel of Ulfin, commanded Merlin to be broughtbefore him. The king opened out his bitter need. He prayed that forpity's sake Merlin would find him a way to his hope, so he were able, since die he must if of Igerne he got no comfort. But let the clerkseek and buy so that the king had his will. Money and wealth would begranted plenteously, if gold were needed, for great as was the king'sevil, so large would be his delight. "Sire, " answered Merlin, "haveher you shall. Never let it be said that you died for a woman's love. Right swiftly will I bring you to your wish, or evil be the bountythat I receive of the king's hand. Hearken to me. Igerne is guardedvery closely in Tintagel. The castle is shut fast, and plenteouslysupplied with all manner of store. The walls are strong and high, sothat it may not be taken by might; and it is victualled so well, that none may win there by siege. The castle also is held of loyalcastellans, but for all their vigils, I know well how to enter thereinat my pleasure, by reason of my potions. By craft I can change a man'scountenance to the fashion of his neighbour, and of two men each shalltake on his fellow's semblance. In body and visage, in speech andseeming, without doubt I can shape you to the likeness of the Earlof Cornwall. Why waste the time with many words! You, sire, shallbe fashioned as the earl. I, who purpose to go with you on thisadventure, will wear the semblance of Bertel. Ulfin, here, shallcome in the guise of Jordan. These two knights are the earl's chosenfriends, and are very close to his mind and heart. In this manner wemay enter boldly in his castle of Tintagel, and you shall have yourwill of the lady. We shall be known of none, for not a man will doubtus other than we seem. " The king had faith in Merlin's word, and heldhis counsel good. He gave over the governance of the host, privily, toa lord whom he much loved. Merlin put forth his arts, and transfiguredtheir faces and vesture into the likeness of the earl and his people. That very night the king and his companions entered in Tintagel. Theporter in his lodge, and the steward within his office, deemed himtheir lord. They welcomed him gladly, and served him with joy. When meat was done the king had his delight of a lady who was muchdeceived. Of that embrace Igerne conceived the good, the valiant, and the trusty king whom you have known as Arthur. Thus was Arthurbegotten, who was so renowned and chivalrous a lord. 

Now the king's men learned very speedily that Uther had departed fromthe host. The captains were wearied of sitting before the castle. Toreturn the more quickly to their homes, they got into their harnessand seized their arms. They did not tarry to order the battle, or makeready ladders for the wall, but they approached the tower in theirdisarray. The king's men assaulted the castle from every side, and theearl defended himself manfully, but at the last he himself was slain, and the castle was swiftly taken. Those who were fortunate enough toescape from the tower fled lightfoot to Tintagel. There they publishedthe news of this misadventure, and the death of their lord. The sorrowand lamentation of those who bewailed the earl's death reached theears of the king. He came forth from his chamber, and rebuked themessengers of evil tidings. "Why all this noise and coil?" cried he "Iam safe and sound, thank God, as you may see by looking on my face. These tidings are not true, and you must neither believe all that themessengers proclaim, nor deem that they tell naught but lies. Thecause is plain why my household think me lost. I came out from thecastle taking leave and speaking to no man. None knew that I wentsecretly through the postern, nor that I rode to you at Tintagel, forI feared treachery upon the way. Now men cry and clamour of my death, because I was not seen when the king won within the tower. Doubtlessit is a grievous thing to have lost my keep, and to know that so manygoodly spearmen lie dead behind the walls. But whilst I live, my goodsat least are my own. I will go forth to the king, requiring a peace, which he will gladly accord me. I will go at once, before he may cometo Tintagel, seeking to do us mischief, for if he falls upon us inthis trap we shall pipe to deaf ears. "

Igerne praised the counsel of him she deemed her lord. The kingembraced her by reason of her tenderness, and kissed her as he badefarewell. He departed straightway from the castle, and his familiarswith him. When they had ridden for a while upon the road, Merlin againput forth his enchantments, so that he, the king, and Ulfin took theirown shapes, and became as they had been before. They hastened to thehost without drawing rein, for the king was with child to know how thecastle was so swiftly taken, and in what manner the earl was slain. Hecommanded before him his captains, and from this man and that soughtto arrive at the truth. Uther considered the adventure, and took hislords to witness that whoever had done the earl to death, had done notaccording to his will. He called to mind Earl Gorlois' noble deeds, and made complaint of his servants, looking upon the barons veryevilly. He wore the semblance of a man in sore trouble, but there werefew who were so simple as to believe him. Uther returned with his hostbefore Tintagel. He cried to those who stood upon the wall asking whythey purposed to defend the tower, since their lord was dead and hiscastle taken, neither could they look for succour in the realm, orfrom across the sea. The castellans knew that the king spake sooth, and that for them there was no hope of aid. They therefore set openthe gates of the castle, and gave the fortress and its keys intothe king's hand. Uther, whose love was passing hot, spoused Igerneforthwith, and made her his queen. She was with child, and when hertime was come to be delivered, she brought forth a son. This son wasnamed Arthur, with the rumour of whose praise the whole world has beenfilled. After the birth of Arthur, Uther got upon Igerne a daughtercleped Anna. When this maiden came of age she was bestowed upon aright courteous lord, called Lot of Lyones. Of this marriage was bornGawain, the stout knight and noble champion. 

Uther reigned for a long time in health and peace. Then he fell into agreat sickness, failing alike in mind and strength. His infirmity layso sore upon him, that he might not get him from his bed. The warders, who watched over his prison in London, were passing weary of theirlong guard, and were corrupted also by fair promises that were made. They took rich gifts from Octa, that was Hengist's son, and from Ossa, his cousin, and delivering them out of their bonds, let them go freefrom their dungeon. Octa and Ossa returned swiftly to their own place. They purchased war galleys to themselves, and gathering their menabout them menaced Uther very grievously. With a great companyof knights, and spearmen, and archers they passed the marches ofScotland, burning and spoiling all the realm. Since Uther was sick, and could do little to defend his life and land, he called Lot, thehusband of his daughter, to his aid. To this lord he committed theguidance of his host, and appointed him constable of his knights. Hecommanded these that they should hearken Lot as himself, and observeall his biddings. This Uther did because he knew Lot for a courteousand liberal lord, cunning in counsel, and mighty with the spear. 

Now Octa vexed the Britons very sorely. He boasted himself greatly, byreason of the number of his folk, and of the kings weakness. To avengehis father's death and his own wrongs, he made Britain fearful of hisname; for he neither granted truce nor kept faith. Lot met Octa onceand again in battle. Many a time he vanquished his foe, but oftenenough the victory remained with Octa. The game of war is like a gameof tables. Each must lose in his turn, and the player who wins to-daywill fail to-morrow. At the end Octa was discomfited, and was drivenfrom the country. But it afterwards befell that the Britons despisedLot. They would pay no heed to his summons, this man for reason ofjealousy, this other because of the sharing of the spoil. The war, therefore, came never to an end, till the king himself perceived thatsomething was amiss, whilst the folk of the country said openly thatthe captains were but carpet knights, who made pretence of war. Atthis certain men of repute came before the king, praying him toremain no longer hidden from his people. "Come what may, " said thesecounsellors, "you must get to the host, and show yourself to thebarons. " The king took them at their word. He caused himself to be setwithin a horse litter, and carried, as though in a bier, amongst hispeople. "Now we shall see, " said these, "which of these recreant lordswill follow him to the host. " The king sent urgent messages to theknights who were so disdainful of Lot, summoning them on theirallegiance to hasten to his aid. For himself he was carried straightto Verulam. [1] This once was a fair city where St. Alban fell upon hisdeath, but was now altogether ravaged and destroyed of the heathen. Octa had led his people to the city, and seized thereon, making fastthe gates. The king sat down without the town. He caused great enginesto be arrayed to break through the wall, but it was very strong, andhe might make no breach. Octa and his friends made merry over thecatapults set over against them. On a morning they opened wide theirgates, and came forth to do battle with the king. A vile matter itseemed to them that the door should be locked and barred because ofa king lying sick within a litter. They could not endure to be sodespised that he should fight against them from his coffin. As I deemtheir pride went before a fall. That captain won who was deserving ofthe victory. The heathen were defeated, and in that battle Octa andhis fair cousin Ossa were slain. 

[Footnote 1: St. Albans. ]

Many who escaped from the field fled into Scotland. There they madeColgrin their chieftain, who was a friend of Octa and his cousin. Uther rejoiced so greatly by reason of his victory, and of the honourGod had shown him, that for sheer joy he was as a man healed andaltogether whole. He set himself to hearten his barons, and inspirethem with his own courage. He said to his men, with mirth, "I likerather to be on my bier, languishing in long infirmity, than to usehealth and strength in fleeing from my foe. The Saxons disdained me, holding me in despite because I cannot rise from my bed; but it hasbefallen that he who hath one foot in the grave hath overthrown thequick. Forward then, and press hardly on their heels who seek todestroy our religion from the land. "

When the king had rested him for a space, and had encouraged the lordswith his words, he would have followed after the heathen. Seeing thathis sickness was yet heavy upon him, the barons prayed that he wouldsojourn awhile in the city, until it pleased God to give him solacefrom his hurt. This they said fearing lest his courage should bringhim to his death. It chanced, therefore, that the host departed, leaving Uther at Verulam, because of his infirmity, none being withhim, save the folk of his private household. Now the Saxons who weredriven from the land, when they had drawn together, considered withinthemselves that if the king were but dead, he had no heir who might dothem a mischief, and despoil them of their goods. Since they had notrust in their weapons, doubting that they could slay him with thesword, they devised to murder the king by craft and poison. Theysuborned certain evil-doers, whose names I do not know, by promisesof pennies and of land. These men they conveyed to the king's court, arrayed in ragged raiment, the better to spy in what fashionthey might draw near his person and carry out their purpose. Themalefactors came to Verulam, but for all their cunning and craft oftongues, in no way could they win anigh the king. They went to and froso often; they listened to the servitors' talk so readily; that in theend they knew that the king drank nothing but cold water, that otherliquor never passed his lips. This water was grateful to his sickness. It sprang from a well very near his hall, and of this water he drankfreely, for none other was to his mind. When these privy murdererswere persuaded that they might never come so close to the king's bodyas to slay him with a knife, they sowed their poison in the well. Theylurked secretly about the country, until it came to their ears whenand how he died, and then fled incontinent whence they came. Presentlythe king was athirst, and called for drink. His cupbearer gave himwater, laced with venom, from the spring. Uther drank of the cup, andwas infected by the plague, so that there was no comfort for him savein death. His body swelled, becoming foul and black, and very soonhe died. Right quickly all those who drank of the water from thatfountain died of the death from which their lord lay dead. After thisthing became known, and the malice of these evil-doers was made clear, the burgesses of the city met together, and choked the well forevermore. They cast therein so much earth, that a pyre stood abovethe source, as a witness to this deed. Uther the king having fallenasleep, his body was borne to Stonehenge, and laid to rest close byAurelius, his brother; the brethren lying side by side. The bishopsand barons of the realm gathered themselves together, and sentmessages to Arthur, Uther's son, bidding him to Cirencester to be madetheir king. Arthur at the time of his coronation was a damoiseau ofsome fifteen years, but tall and strong for his age. His faults andvirtues I will show you alike, for I have no desire to lead you astraywith words. He was a very virtuous knight, right worthy of praise, whose fame was much in the mouths of men. To the haughty he was proud, but tender and pitiful to the simple. He was a stout knight and abold: a passing crafty captain, as indeed was but just, for skill andcourage were his servants at need: and large of his giving. He wasone of Love's lovers; a lover also of glory; and his famous deeds areright fit to be kept in remembrance. He ordained the courtesies ofcourts, and observed high state in a very splendid fashion. So long ashe lived and reigned he stood head and shoulders above all princesof the earth, both for courtesy and prowess, as for valour andliberality. When this Arthur was freshly crowned king, of his own freewill he swore an oath that never should the Saxons have peace or restso long as they tarried in his realm. This he did by reason that fora great while they had troubled the land, and had done his father andhis uncle to their deaths. Arthur called his meinie to his aid. Hebrought together a fair company of warriors, bestowing on them largelyof his bounty, and promising to grant largely of the spoil. With thishost he hastened into the land that lay about York, Colgrin--who wasthe chief and captain of these Saxons since the slaying of Octa--hadmany Picts and Scots in his fellowship, besides a goodly company ofhis own people. He desired nothing more hotly than to meet Arthur inbattle, and to abate his pride. The armies drew together upon thebanks of the Douglas. The two hosts fell one upon the other furiously, and many a sergeant perished that day, by reason of lance thrust, orquarrel, or dart. At the end Colgrin was discomfited, and fled fromthe field. Arthur followed swiftly after, striving to come upon hisadversary, before he might hide him in York. But Colgrin, for all hispains, took refuge in the city; so Arthur sat him down without thewalls. 

Now Baldulph, the brother of Colgrin, tamed by the shore, awaiting thecoming of Cheldric, the king, and his Saxons from Germany. When heheard the tidings of what had befallen Colgrin at the Ford of Douglas, and of how he was holden straitly by Arthur in York, he was passingheavy and sorrowful, for with this Colgrin was all his hope. Baldulphmade no further tarrying for Cheldric. He broke up his camp, andmarching towards York, set his comrades in ambush, within a deepwood, some five miles from the host. Together with the folk of hishousehold, and the strangers of his fellowship, Baldulph had in hiscompany six thousand men in mail. He trusted to fall upon Arthur bynight, when he was unready, and force him to give over the siege. Butcertain of the country who had spied Baldulph spread this snare, ranto the king, and showed him of the matter. Arthur, knowing of themalice of Baldulph, took counsel with Cador, Earl of Cornwall, a bravecaptain, who had no fear of death. He delivered to the earl's careseven hundred horsemen, and of spearmen three thousand, and sent himsecretly to fall upon Baldulph in his lurking place. Cador did theking's bidding. The Saxons heard no rumour of his coming, for the hostdrew to the wood privily without trumpet or battle cry. Then whenCador was near the foe, he cried his name, and burst fiercely upon theheathen with the sword. In this combat there perished of the Saxonsmore than three thousand men. Had it not been for the darkness of thenight, and the hindrance of the wood, not one might have fled on hisfeet. Baldulph, the cunning captain, got him safely from the field, byhiding beneath every bush and brake. He had lost the fairer and thestronger half of his meinie, and was at his wits' end to know how totake counsel with his brother, or to come to his aid. But speak withhim he would, so that craft and courage might find a way. Baldulphdevised to seek the besiegers' camp in the guise of a jongleur. Hearrayed himself in all points as a harper, for he knew well how tochant songs and lays, and to touch the strings tunably. For hisbrother's sake he made himself as a fool. He shaved off one half ofhis beard and moustache, and caused the half of his head to be polledlikewise. He hung a harp about his neck, and showed in every respectas a lewd fellow and a jester. Baldulph presently went forth from hisabode, being known again of none. He went to and fro harping on hisharp, till he stood beneath the walls of the city. The warders on thetowers hearkened to his speech, so that they drew him up by cords uponthe wall. At Baldulph's tale the folk within the city despaired ofsuccour, and knew not how to flee, nor where to escape. In theirextremity the news was bruited amongst them that Cheldric had come toa haven in Scotland, with a fleet of five hundred galleys, and wasspeeding to York. Cheldric knew and was persuaded that Arthur darednot abide his onset. This was a right judgment, for Arthur made hasteto begone. The king called a council of his captains, and by theirrede decided not to await Cheldric at York, neither to give himbattle, because of the proud and marvellous host that was with him, "Let the king fall back upon London, " said the lords, "and summonhis meinie about him. The king's power will increase daily, and ifCheldric have the hardihood to follow, with the more confidence weshall fight. " Arthur took his captains at their word. He let well thesiege, and came to London, that he might strengthen his castle, choosehis own battle ground, and trouble his adversary the more surely. Arthur, by the rede of his counsellors, sent letters to his nephew, the son of his sister, Hoel, King of Little Britain. For in thatcountry dwelt many strong barons, sib to his flesh, and the stoutestknights of his race. In these letters, and by the mouth of hisambassadors, Arthur prayed the king to hasten to his rescue. If Hoelcame not swiftly over sea--wrote the king--certainly his realm wouldbe taken from him, and shame would always be on those who watchedtamely their cousin stripped of his heritage. 

When this bitter cry came to Hoel he sought neither hindrance norexcuse. His vassals and kinsmen got in their harness forthwith. Theyarrayed their ships, and set thereon the stores. Within these shipsthere entered twelve thousand knights alone, without taking count ofthe sergeants and archers. So in a good hour they crossed the sea, coming with a fair wind to the port of Southampton. Arthur welcomedthem with great joy, showing them the honour which it became him tooffer. They made no long tarrying at Southampton, nor wasted the dayin fair words and idle courtesies. The king had summoned his vassals, and had brought together his household. Without speeches and blowingsof trumpets the two hosts set forth together towards Lincoln, whichCheldric had besieged but had not yet taken. Arthur came swiftly andsecretly upon Cheldric. He fell silently upon the Saxons, making nostir with horns and clarions. King Arthur and his men slew so many inso grim and stark a fashion, that never was seen such slaughter, suchsorrow and destruction, as they made of the Saxons in one single day. The Saxons thought only of flight. They stripped off their armour torun the more lightly, and abandoned their horses on the fieldSome fled to the mountains, others by the valleys, and many flungthemselves into the river, and were drowned miserably, striving to getthem from their foe. The Britons followed hotly at their heels, givingthe quarry neither rest nor peace. They struck many a mighty blow withthe sword, on the heads, the necks, and bodies of their adversaries. The chase endured from Lincoln town to the wood of Cehdon. The Saxonstook refuge within the thick forest, and drew together the remnants oftheir power. For their part, the Britons watched the wood, and heldit very strictly. Now Arthur feared lest the Saxons should stealfrom their coverts by night, and escape from his hand. He commanded, therefore, his meinie to cut down the trees on the skirts of theforest. These trunks he placed one upon another, lacing the branchesfast together, and enclosing his foe. Then he sat down on the furtherside of his barrier, so that none might issue forth, nor enter in. Those within the wood were altogether dismayed, since they mightneither eat nor drink. There was no man so cunning or strong, so richor valiant, who could devise to carry bread and wine, flesh and flour, for their sustenance. Three days they endured without food, till Thurbodies were weak with hunger. Since they would not die of famine, andmight not win forth from the wood by arms, they took counsel as towhat it were well to do. They approached Arthur, praying him to keepraiment and harness and all that they had, saving only their ships, and let them depart to their own land. They promised to put hostagesin his power, and render a yearly tribute of their wealth, so only theking allowed them to go on foot to the shore, and enter naked in theships. Arthur set faith in their word. He gave them leave to depart, receiving hostages for assurance of their covenant. He rendered themthe ships, but kept their armour as a spoil, so that they left therealm without a mantle to their bodies, or a sword for their defence. The Saxons set out across the water, until their sails were lost tosight. I know not what was their hope, nor the name of him who put itin their mind, but they turned their boats, and passed through thechannel between England and Normandy. With sail and oar they came tothe land of Devon, casting anchor in the haven of Totnes. The heathenbreathed out threatenings and slaughter against the folk of thecountry. They poured forth from their ships, and scattered themselvesabroad amongst the people, searching out arms and raiment, firinghomesteads and slaying Christian men. They passed to and fro about thecountry, carrying off all they found beneath their hands. Not only didthey rob the hind of his weapon, but they slew him on his hearth withhis own knife. Thus throughout Somerset and a great part of Dorset, these pirates spoiled and ravaged at their pleasure, finding none tohinder them at their task. For the barons who might have made headagainst them were in Scotland with the king. So by road and country, laden with raiment and all manner of spoil, the Saxons came from theirships to Bath. But the citizens of the town shut fast their gates, anddefended the walls against them. 

Arthur was in Scotland, punishing the folk of that realm, becauseof the war they had made upon him, and of the aid they had affordedCheldric. When the king learned what mischief the pagans had done tohis land, and of the siege they laid to Bath, he hanged his hostagesstraightway. He dared tarry no longer in Scotland, but hastened south, leaving Hoel of Brittany lying sick at Dumbarton, I know not of whatinfirmity. With what men he might, Arthur came to Bath as swiftly ashe was able, since he was resolved to chase the Saxons from before thegates, and succour the burgesses of his city. Now, near this town awood stands within a wide country, and there Arthur arranged his menand ordered the battle. He saw to the arming of his meinie, and forhimself got him into his harness. Arthur donned thigh pieces of steel, wrought strong and fairly by some cunning smith. His hauberk was stoutand richly chased, even such a vesture as became so puissant a king. He girt him with his sword, Excalibur. Mighty was the glaive, andlong in the blade. It was forged in the Isle of Avalon, and he whobrandished it naked in his hand deemed himself a happy man. His helmetgleamed upon his head. The nasal was of gold; circlets of gold adornedthe headpiece, with many a clear stone, and a dragon was fashioned forits crest. This helm had once been worn by Uther, his sire. The kingwas mounted on a destrier, passing fair, strong, and speedy, lovingwell the battle. He had set his shield about his neck, and, certes, showed a stout champion, and a right crafty captain. On the bucklerwas painted in sweet colours the image of Our Lady St. Mary. In herhonour and for remembrance, Arthur bore her semblance on his shield. In his hand the king carried his lance, named Ron. Sharp it was atthe head, tough and great, and very welcome at need in the press ofbattle. Arthur gave his commands to his captains, and ordained theorder of the combat. He caused his host to march in rank and companyat a slow pace towards the foe, so that when the battle was joinednone might flinch but that he was sustained of his comrades. The hostdrew near to a certain mountain of those parts, and began to climb thehill. The Saxons held this mountain strongly, and defended the height, as though they were shut fast and safely behind walls. Small cause hadthe heathen for such assurance of safety, for a mighty captain wasupon them, who would not endure their presence in his realm. Arthurled his spearmen upon the slope, and there admonished his men. "Behold, " said he, "and see before you those false and scornfulheathen, who have destroyed and ravished your kith and kin, your nearones and neighbours, and on your own goods and bodies have done somuch mischief. Avenge now your friends and your kinsfolk; avenge thegreat ruin and burnings; avenge all the loss and the travail that forso long a space we have suffered at their hands. For myself this dayI will avenge me for all these bitter wrongs. I will avenge the oathsthese perjurers have broken. I will silence the crying of my fathers'blood. This day I will exact the price for all they have cost me inloss and in sorrows, and avenge the bad faith which led them to returnto Totnes. If but this day we bear us in the battle like men, andsmite the heathen in their fastness, never again will they arraythemselves proudly against us, but will be for ever before us as nakedmen without a shield. " With these words Arthur set his buckler beforehim, and hastened to the playing of the swords. I know not the nameof the Saxon who ran upon him in the stour, but the king smote him sofiercely that he died. Before Arthur passed across the body he criedaloud, "God aid, Saint Mary succour. He gives twice, " said he, gaily, "who gives quickly. Here lies one whose lodging for the night I havepaid. " When the Britons saw this deed they aided the king mightily, beating down and slaying the Saxons very grievously. They pressed uponthem from every side, thrusting shrewdly with the spear, and strikinglustily with the sword. Arthur was of marvellous hardihood. Strongbeyond the common strength and of great prowess, with lifted shieldand terrible sword he hewed a path towards the summit of the mount. Hestruck to right and to left, slaying many, so that the press gave backbefore so stout a champion. To himself alone he slew four hundredheathen that day, working them more mischief than was done by all hismen. To an evil end came the captains of these Saxons. Baldulph laydead upon the mount, and dead also was Colgrin. Cheldric and someothers fled from the field, and would have got them to their shipsthat they might enter therein and garnish for their needs. 

When Arthur heard tidings of Cheldric's flight, and that he soughtagain his ships, he bade Cador of Cornwall to follow swiftly after thefugitives, giving ten thousand horsemen to his keeping chosen from hisbest and closest friends. For his part, Arthur himself turned his faceto Scotland; for a messenger came who told that the wild Scots heldHoel close within his city, and for a little would take him where helay. Cheldric made in all haste to his ships, but Cador was a craftycaptain, and by a way that he knew well he rode swiftly to Totnes, before Cheldric might come to the town. He seized the galleys, manningthem with archers and country folk, and then hastened hotly on thetrack of the fugitives. Two by two, and three by three, these drewnear the shore, as best they might hide them from the pursuers. To gothe more lightly, to run the more nimbly, they had thrown away theirharness, and carried nothing save their swords. They pained themselvesto get to the ships, deeming that if they might enter therein theirtroubles would be at an end. As they strove to ford the river Teign, Cador, the huntsman, came winding upon their slot. The Saxons weredismayed beyond measure, and without stay or delay fled from theirfoe. Cador lighted upon Cheldric in the steep mountain, calledTenedic, and slew him in that place. As Cador came on Cheldric'scompanions he killed them with the sword, in sore sorrow. For thosewho escaped from Cador they made their way from every part to theships. There they were slain by the archers, or perished miserably inthe sea. The Britons took no captives, he who cried for mercy perishedalike with him who strove with his sword. The rest of the Saxons fledto the coverts of the woods and the mountains, by large companies. Insuch desolate and waste places they lurked and hid from their enemiesuntil hunger and thirst put a term to their miseries. 

When Cador had made an end of his slaying, and given quiet to theland, he followed after Arthur, and took the road towards Scotland. Hecame upon the king at Dumbarton, where he had brought succour tohis nephew, Hoel of Brittany. Arthur found Hoel safe in body and inwealth, and altogether whole of his infirmity. The Scots had departedfrom before the city when they heard that Arthur drew near, andhastening to Murray, made strong the towers, and set barriers at thegates. This they did because they were resolved to await Arthur in thecity, thinking to hold themselves against him behind the walls. Arthurknew well that the Scots were gathered together to make head againsthim in that place. He came therefore to Murray with all his power, butthey dared not abide his coming, and for dread fled to Lake Lomond, scattering themselves abroad amongst the isles thereof. Passing wideand deep is this fair mere. From the hills and valleys round aboutsixty rivers fall therein, and making together one sweet water, passswiftly by a single river to the sea. Sixty islands lie upon thiswater, the haunt and home of innumerable birds. Each island holds aneyrie, where none but eagles repair to build their nests, to cry andfight together, and take their solace from the world. When evil folkarrive to raven and devour the realm, then all these eagles gatherthemselves together, making great coil and clamour, and arrayingthemselves proudly one against another. One day, or two days, three orfour, the mighty birds will strive together; and the interpretationthereof portends horror and grim destruction amongst men. 

On this fair lake the Scots sought hiding, going and coming upon itswaters Arthur followed swiftly after. He caused to be made shallops, barges, and light, speedy boats, and harassed them grievously in theirrefuge. By reason of famine and the sword, they died by twenties, byhundreds, and by thousands in those secret ways. 

Now Guillomer, a certain king from Ireland, wishful to aid the Scotsin this quarrel, drew towards Arthur with his host. Arthur went hisway to give him battle. When the battle was joined the Irish king wasdiscomfited anon. He and his men fled to their ships, getting themback to Ireland, and Arthur came again to the mere, where he had lefthis harrying of the Scots. 

Then the bishops and abbots of the realm, with divers monks and otherorders, carrying in their hands bodies of the saints and many holyrelics, came before the king beseeching him to show mercy on theScots. With these went a pitiful company of ladies of that country, naked of foot, spoiled of visage, with streaming hair and rentraiment, bearing their babes in their bosoms. These with tears andshrill lamentations fell at Arthur's knees right humbly, weeping, clamouring, and imploring his grace. "Sire, gentle king, have mercyand pity, " cried these lamentable women, "on this wasted land, and onthose wretched men who are dying of hunger and misery. If thou hast nobowels of pity for the fathers, look, sire, and behold these babesand these mothers; regard their sons and their daughters, and allthe distressful folk thou art bringing down to death. Give again thefathers to the little children, restore to the ladies their husbands, and to this sad company of damsels return their brothers and theirlords. Have we not paid enough by reason of the Saxon passing thisway? It was not for our pleasure they sojourned awhile in the land. Wewent the more heavily for their presence, for much pain and sorrow wesuffered because of the heathen, and passing weary were we of theirspeech. If we sheltered them in our houses, the greater sorrow isours, since we have endured the more at their hands. Our beasts theyhave slain and eaten; and for our goods, these they have taken, andsent the gear into their own realm. There was none to help us, norwas any man so strong as to deliver us from their power. Sire, if weprepared them a feast, it was because we feared to drink their winecup to the dregs. Might was theirs, and we were as the captive whosees no succour on the road. These Saxons were pagan men. Thy servantsare Christians. Therefore the heathen oppressed us the more mightily, and laid the heavier burdens upon us. But great as was the mischiefthese Saxons wrought us, thou hast done us the sorer harm. Theirswere the whips, but thine are the stinging scorpions. It should provelittle honour to the Christian king that he slay by hunger amongstthese rocks those folk who cry his pardon for their trespass. We die, sire, of famine and of all misease. Nothing is left us save cold andwretchedness. Thou hast overcome us, every one; destroy us not fromthe land, but suffer us to live of thy bounty. Grant that we and allour race--so it be thy pleasure--may find peace in the king's service. Have mercy on thy poor Christians. We hold the faith that you, too, count dear. How foully then should Christianity be wronged, if youdestroy the whole realm. Alas, has not mischief enough been wroughtalready!" Arthur was tender of heart and marvellously pitiful. He tookcompassion on this doleful company of ladies, and by reason of thoseholy bodies of the saints and those fair prelates, he granted life andmember to his captives, and forgave them their debts. 

The Scots, having done homage to the king and owned themselves hismen, departed, and went their way. Hoel gazed long upon the mere, calling to him the folk of his house. He wondered exceedingly becauseof the grandeur of the lake, and because of the greatness of thewater. He marvelled altogether to behold so many islands therein, andat the rocks thereof. He was astonied beyond measure at the number ofthe eagles and their eyries, at the clamour and the shrilling oftheir cries. He deemed in his heart that never had he gazed upon sobeautiful a sight. "Hoel, fair nephew, " said Arthur, "very marvellousthis water seems in your eyes. Your astonishment will be the more whenyou look upon yet another mere that I know. Near this lake, in thisvery country, lies a water held in a cup, not round but square. Thispond is twenty feet in length, twenty in breadth, and the waterthereof is five feet deep. In the four corners of this pond are manyfish of divers fashions. These fish pass never from their corner toanother. Yet none can certify by touch or sight whether craft keepsthese fish each in his place, or what is that hindrance they may notovercome. Yea, I cannot tell whether the pond was digged by the wit ofman, or if Nature shaped it to her will. Moreover I know of anothermere, whereof you would be more amazed than of both these marvels. This lake is close by the Severn in the land of Wales. The sea poursits tide into this lake; yet empty itself as it may, the waters of thelake remain ever at the same height, never more and never less. Theocean itself may not suffice to heap its waters above the lake, neither to cover its shores. Yet at the ebbing of the tide, when thesea turns to flee, then the lake spues forth the water it has taken toits belly, so that the banks are swallowed up, the great waves risetall in their wrath, and the wide fields round about are hid, and allis sodden with the foam. The folk of that country tell that should aman stare upon the wave in its anger, so that his vesture and body bewetted of the spray, then, whatever be his strength, the water willdraw him to itself, for it is mightier than he. Many a man hasstruggled and fallen on the brink, and been drowned in its clutch. Butif a man turn his back upon the water, then he may stand safely uponthe bank, taking his pleasure as long as he will. The wave will passby him, doing him no mischief; he will not be wetted even of theflying foam. " So Hoel marvelled greatly at these wonders told him bythe king. Then Arthur bade sound his horns, his clarions and trumpetsto call his meinie to himself. He granted leave to all but the folk ofhis privy household to return to their homes. The host went thereforeeach to his own place, loudly praising the king. Even in Brittany mentold that there was no more valiant captain than he. 

Arthur turned south to York, abiding there till Christmas was past. Hekept the Feast of the Nativity within its walls. He marked clearly theweakness and impoverishment of the city, and how deeply it was fallenfrom its former state. The churches were empty and silent; whilst forthe houses they were either breached or fallen to the ground. Theking appointed Pyramus, a learned clerk who had been diligent in hisservice, to the vacant see, so that the chapels might be maintained, and those convents built anew which the heathen had destroyed. Arthurcommanded that the criers should proclaim that all honest folk mustreturn to their toil. He sent messages to every place, bidding thosewho were dispossessed of their lands to repair to his court. There hegave them again their heritage, and confirmed them in their fiefs andrents. Now there were three brethren of right good birth and highpeerage, kin to many a fair family, having to name Lot, Aguisel, and Urian. The forefather of these lords was the earl of that greatcountry beyond the Humber; and these in their turn held justly theirfather's lands, doing wrong to none. Arthur rendered these brotherstheir own, and restored them their heritage. On Urian, as head of hishouse, Arthur bestowed the province of Murray, and without fee orrecompense proclaimed him king of that realm. Scotland was given toAguisel, who claimed it as his fief. As for Lot, who had the king'ssister to wife, Arthur confirmed him in that kingdom of Lyones, whichhe had held for a great while, and gave him many another earldombesides. This Lot was the father of Gawain, who as yet was adamoiseau, young and debonair. 

When Arthur had settled his realm in peace, righted all wrongs, andrestored the kingdom to its ancient borders, he took to wife a certainfresh and noble maiden, named Guenevere, making her his queen. Thisdamsel was passing fair of face and courteous, very gracious ofmanner, and come of a noble Roman house. Cador had nourished this ladylong and richly in his earldom of Cornwall. The maiden was theearl's near cousin, for by his mother he, too, was of Roman blood. Marvellously dainty was the maiden in person and vesture; rightqueenly of bearing, passing sweet and ready of tongue. Arthurcherished her dearly, for his love was wonderfully set upon thedamsel, yet never had they a child together, nor betwixt them mightget an heir. 

As soon as winter was gone, and the warm days were come when it wasgood to wend upon the sea, Arthur made ready his ships to cross thestraits to Ireland and conquer the land. Arthur made no long tarrying. He brought together the most lusty warriors of his realm, both poorand rich, all of the people who were most vigorous and apt in war. With these he passed into Ireland, and sent about the country seekingprovand for his host. So the sergeants took seisin of cows and oxen, and brought to the camp in droves all that was desirable for meat. Guillomer, the king of that realm, heard that Arthur had fastenedthis quarrel upon him. He hearkened to the cries and the tidings, theplaints and the burdens, raised by those villeins whose granges andbields were pillaged for the sustenance of his foes. Guillomer wentforth to give battle to Arthur, but in an ill hour he drew to thefield. His men were naked to their adversaries, having neither helmetsnor coats of leather nor shields. They knew nothing of archery, andwere ignorant of catapults and slings. The Britons were mighty bowmen. They shot their shafts thickly amongst their enemies, so that theIrish dared not show their bodies, and might find no shelter. TheIrish could endure the arrows no longer. They fled from the fight, taking refuge where they were able. They hid in woods and thickets, intowns and in houses, seeking refuge from the stour. Right grievous wastheir discomfiture. Guillomer, their king, sought shelter within aforest, but his fate was upon him, and he might not conceal him fromhis foes. Arthur searched him out so diligently, following so hotly onhis track, that at the last he was taken captive. Guillomer did verywisely. He paid fealty and homage to Arthur, and owned that of him heheld his heritage. Moreover he put hostages within Arthur's power, forsurety that he would render a yearly tribute to the king. When Arthurhad subdued Ireland, he went further and came even so far as Iceland. He brought the land in subjection to himself, so that the folk thereofowned themselves his men, and granted him the lordship. Now threeprinces, by name Gonfal, King of the Orkneys, Doldamer, King ofGothland, and Romarec, King of Finland, heard the rumour of thesedeeds. They sent spies to Iceland, and learned from their messengersthat Arthur was making ready his host to pass the sea, and despoilthem of their realms. In all the world--said these messengers--therewas no such champion, nor so crafty a captain in the ordering of war. These three kings feared mightily in case Arthur should descend uponthem, and waste their land. Lest a worse thing should befall them, with no compulsion and of their own free wills, they set forth forIceland and came humbly before the king. They gave of their substancerich gifts and offerings, and kneeling before Arthur did him fealty, putting their countries between his hands, and proclaiming themselveshis men. They owned that of grace they held their inheritance, theyswore to render tribute to his treasury, and gave hostages forassurance of their covenant. So they departed in peace to their ownplace. For his part Arthur came again to his ships. He returned toEngland, where he was welcomed of his people with marvellous joy. Twelve years he abode in his realm in peace and content, since nonewas so bold as to do him a mischief, and he did mischief to none. Arthur held high state in a very splendid fashion. He ordained thecourtesies of courts, and bore himself with so rich and noble abearing, that neither the emperor's court at Rome, nor any otherbragged of by man, was accounted as aught besides that of the king. Arthur never heard speak of a knight in praise, but he caused him tobe numbered of his household. So that he might he took him to himself, for help in time of need. Because of these noble lords about his hall, of whom each knight pained himself to be the hardiest champion, andnone would count him the least praiseworthy, Arthur made the RoundTable, so reputed of the Britons. This Round Table was ordained ofArthur that when his fair fellowship sat to meat their chairs shouldbe high alike, their service equal, and none before or after hiscomrade. Thus no man could boast that he was exalted above his fellow, for all alike were gathered round the board, and none was alien atthe breaking of Arthur's bread. At this table sat Britons, Frenchmen, Normans, Angevins, Flemings, Burgundians, and Loherins. Knights hadtheir plate who held land of the king, from the furthest marches ofthe west even unto the Hill of St. Bernard. A most discourteous lordwould he be deemed who sojourned not awhile in the king's hall, whocame not with the countenance, the harness, and the vesture that werethe garb and usage of those who served Arthur about his court. Fromall the lands there voyaged to this court such knights as were inquest either of gain or worship. Of these lords some drew near to heartell of Arthur's courtesies; others to marvel at the pride of hisstate; these to have speech with the knights of his chivalry; and someto receive of his largeness costly gifts. For this Arthur in his daywas loved right well of the poor, and honoured meetly by the rich. Only the kings of the world bore him malice and envy, since theydoubted and feared exceedingly lest he should set his foot upon themevery one, and spoil them of their heritage. 

I know not if you have heard tell the marvellous gestes and errantdeeds related so often of King Arthur. They have been noised aboutthis mighty realm for so great a space that the truth has turned tofable and an idle song. Such rhymes are neither sheer bare lies, norgospel truths. They should not be considered either an idiot's tale, or given by inspiration. The minstrel has sung his ballad, thestoryteller told over his story so frequently, little by little hehas decked and painted, till by reason of his embellishment the truthstands hid in the trappings of a tale. Thus to make a delectable tuneto your ear, history goes masking as fable. Hear then how, because ofhis valour, the counsel of his barons, and in the strength of thatmighty chivalry he had cherished and made splendid, Arthur purposed tocross the sea and conquer the land of France. But first he deemed tosail to Norway, since he would make Lot, his sister's lord, its king. Sichelm, the King of Norway, was newly dead, leaving neither son nordaughter of his body. In the days of his health, as alike when he fellon death, Sichelm had appointed Lot to succeed him in his realm andfief. The crown was Lot's by right, even as Sichelm proclaimed, sinceLot was the king's nephew, and there was no other heir. When the folkof Norway learned that Sichelm had bequeathed his realm to Lot, theyheld his command and ordinance in derision. They would have no alienfor their lord, nor suffer a stranger to meddle in their business, lest he should deem them an ancient and feeble people, and give tooutland folk what was due to the dwellers in the realm. The Norwegiansresolved to make king one of their own house, that he might cherishthem and their children, and for this reason they chose from amongstthem a certain lord named Ridulph to be their king. 

When Lot perceived that his right was despised, save that he took hisheritage by force, he sought help of Arthur, his lord. Arthur agreedto aid him in his quarrel, promising to render him his own, and toavenge him bitterly on Ridulph. Arthur gathered together many shipsand a mighty host. He entered into Norway with this great company, wasting the land, seizing on the manors, and spoiling the towns. Ridulph was no trembler, and had no thought to leave the country toits fate. He assembled his people, and prepared to give battle to theking. Since however his carles were not many, and his friends but few, Ridulph was defeated in the fight and slain. The greater part of hisfellowship perished with him, so that no large number remained. Inthis manner Lot the King of Lyones destroyed the Norwegians from theland. Having delivered Norway from itself Arthur granted the kingdomto Lot, so only that he did Arthur homage as his lord. Amongst thebarons who rode in this adventure was Gawain, the hardy and famousknight, who had freshly come from St. Sulpicius the Apostle, whosesoul may God give rest and glory. The knight wore harness bestowed onhim by the Apostle, and wondrously was he praised. This Gawain was acourteous champion, circumspect in word and deed, having no pride norblemish in him. He did more than his boast, and gave more largelythan he promised. His father had sent him to Rome, that he might beschooled the more meetly. Gawain was dubbed knight in the same day asWavain, and counted himself of Arthur's household. Mightily he stroveto do his devoir in the field, for the fairer service and honour ofhis lord. 

After Arthur had conquered Norway, and firmly established his justicein the land, he chose of his host those men who were the most valiantand ready in battle, and assembled them by the sea. He brought to thesame haven many ships and barges, together with such mariners as wereneedful for his purpose. When a quiet time was come, with a fortunatewind, Arthur crossed the sea into Denmark; for the realm was verygreatly to his desire. Acil, the Danish king, considered the Britonsand the folk from Norway. He considered Arthur, who had prevailedagainst so many kings. Acil knew and was persuaded that Arthur wasmightier than he. He had no mind to suffer hurt himself, or to see hisgoodly heritage spoiled in a useless quarrel. What did it profit towaste wealth and honour alike, to behold slain friends and ruinedtowers? Acil wrought well and speedily. He sought peace, and ensuedit. He gave costly gifts, and made promises which were larger still, till by reason of his words, his prayers, and supplications, concordwas established between Arthur and the king. Acil paid fealty andhomage, he became Arthur's man, and owned that of Arthur's grace heheld his fief. King Arthur rejoiced greatly at this adventure, and ofthe conquest he had made. He desired honour the more greedily becauseof the worship he had gained. From out of Denmark he chose, byhundreds and by thousands, the stoutest knights and archers he couldfind. These he joined to his host, purposing to lead this fair companyinto France. Without any long tarrying the king acted on his purpose. Towns, cities, and castles fell before him, so that Flanders andthe country about Boulogne were speedily in his power. Arthur was aprudent captain. He perceived no profit in wasting his own realm, burning his towns, and stealing from his very purse. His eyes were inevery place, and much was forbidden by his commandment. No soldiermight rob nor pill. If there was need of raiment, meat, or provand, then must he buy with good minted coin in the market. Nothing he daredto destroy or steal. 

Now in Arthur's day the land of France was known as Gaul. The realmhad neither king nor master, for the Romans held it strongly as aprovince. This province was committed to the charge of Frollo, and thetribune had governed the country for a great space. He took rent andtribute of the people, and in due season caused the treasure to bedelivered to the emperor at Rome. Thus had it been since the time ofCaesar, that mighty emperor, who brought into subjection France andGermany, and all the land of Britain. Frollo was a very worthy lord, come of a noble Roman race, fearful of none, however hardy. He knewwell, by divers letters, the loss and the mischief done by Arthur andhis host. Frollo had no mind tamely to watch the Romans lose theirheritage. The tribune summoned to his aid all the men abiding in theprovince who carried arms and owned fealty to Rome. He assembled thesetogether, ordaining a great company, clad in harness and plenteouslysupplied with stores. With these he went out to battle against Arthur, but he prospered less than his merit deserved. The Roman tribune wasdiscomfited so grievously that he sought safety in flight. Of hisfellowship he had lost a great number. Many were slain outright inbattle, others were sorely wounded, or made captive, or returnedsorrowing to their own homes. Out of the meinie Frollo had gatheredfrom so many cities, more than two thousand were destroyed. This wasno great marvel, since the count of Arthur's host was more than Frollomight endure. From every land he had subdued to himself, from everycity that was taken, Arthur saw to it that not a spearman nor knightof fitting years and strength of body, but was numbered in the host, and commanded to serve Arthur as his lord Of these outland folk, Arthur chose a fair company of the hardiest knights and most provenchampions to be of his private household. The very French began toregard him as their king, so only that they had the courage of theirminds. This man loved him for his wise and comely speech this byreason of his liberal hand: this because of his noble and uprightspirit Whether men were driven to his presence by fear, or consideredhim a refuge in the storm, all found cause enough to seek his court, to make their peace, and to acknowledge him as their suzerain. NowFrollo, after his discomfiture by the king, fled to Paris with allthe speed he might, making no stop upon the road. The tribune fearedArthur and his power very sorely, and since he sought a fortress todefend his person, he would not trust his fortune to any other city. He resolved, therefore, to await Arthur within Paris, and to fight theking beneath the walls Frollo called to himself such legions as wereyet in towns near by. Because of the number of the fugitives who werecome to that place, together with the burgesses abiding therein, agreat concourse of people filled the city. All these folk toileddiligently to furnish the city with corn and meat, and to make surethe walls and gates against their foes. 

Arthur learned that Frollo was making strong his towers, and fillingthe barns with victuals. He drew to Paris, and sat down without thecity. He lodged his men in the suburbs beyond the walls, holding thetown so close that food might not enter whether by the river or thegates. Arthur shut the city fast for more than a month, since theFrench defended them well and manfully. A mighty multitude was crowdedwithin the walls, and there was a plentiful lack of meat. All theprovand bought and gathered together in so short a space was quicklyeaten and consumed, and the folk were afterwards a-hungered. There waslittle flesh, but many bellies; so that the women and children mademuch sorrow Had the counsel of the poor been taken, right soon wouldthe keys of the city have been rendered. "Diva, " clamoured thefamished citizens, "what doest thou, Frollo? Why requirest thou notpeace at Arthur's hand?" Frollo regarded the common people who failedfor famine. He looked upon the folk dying by reason of their hunger, and knew that they would have him yield the city. Frollo perceivedthat of a surety the end of all was come. The tribune chose to puthis own body in peril--yea, rather to taste of death, than to abandonParis to her leaguers. Frollo had full assurance of Arthur's rectitudeIn the simplicity of his heart he sent urgent messages to the king, praying him to enter in the Island, that body to body they might bringtheir quarrel to an end. He who prevailed over his fellow, and cameliving from the battle, should take the whole realm as his own andreceive all France for his guerdon. Thus the land would not perish, nor the folk be utterly destroyed. Arthur hearkened willingly to theheralds, for very greatly was their message to his mind. He accordedthat the battle should be between the two captains, even as Frollodesired. Gauntlets were taken from one and the other, and hostagesgiven on behalf of Paris and on the part of the besiegers for betterassurance of the covenant that was made. 

On the morrow the two champions arrayed them in harness, and coming tothe Island, entered boldly in the lists. The banks were filled with amighty concourse of people, making great tumult. Not a man or womanremained that day in his chamber. They climbed upon the walls, andthronged the roofs of the houses, crying upon God, and adjuring Himby His holy Name to give victory to him who would guard the realm inpeace, and preserve the poor from war Arthur's meinie, for their part, awaited the judgment of God, in praying the King of Glory to bestowthe prize and honour on their lord. The two champions were set overagainst the other, laced each in his mail, and seated on his warhorse. The strong destriers were held with bit and bridle, so eager were theyfor the battle. The riders bestrode the steeds with lifted shields, brandishing great lances in their hands. It was no easy matter toperceive--however curiously men looked--which was the stouter knight, or to judge who would be victor in the joust. Certainly each was avery worthy lord and a right courageous champion. When all was madeready the knights struck spurs to their steeds, and loosing the reinupon the horses' necks, hurtled together with raised buckler and lancein rest. They smote together with marvellous fierceness. Whether byreason of the swerving of his destrier, I cannot tell, but Frollofailed of his stroke Arthur, on his side, smote the boss of hisadversary's shield so fairly, that he bore him over his horse'sbuttock, as long as the ash staff held Arthur drew forth his sword, and hastened to Frollo to bring the battle to an end. Frollo climbedstoutly on his feet. He held his lance before him like a rod, and theking's steed ran upon the spear, so that it pierced deeply in hisbody. Of this thrust the destrier and his rider alike came tumbling tothe ground. When the Britons saw this thing, they might not containthemselves for grief. They cried aloud, and seizing their weapons, fora little would have violated the love-day. They made ready to crossthe river to the Island, and to avenge their lord upon the Gauls. Arthur cried loudly to his Britons to observe their covenant, commanding that not a man should move to his help that day. He grippedExcalibur sternly in his hand, resolving that Frollo should paydearly for his triumph. Arthur dressed his shield above his head, andhandselling his sword, rushed upon Frollo. Frollo was a passing goodknight, hardy and strong, in no whit dismayed by the anger of hisadversary. He raised his own glaive on high, striking fiercely atArthur's brow. Frollo was strong beyond the strength of man. His brandwas great and sharp, and the buffet was struck with all his power. Theblade sheared through helm and coif alike, so that King Arthur waswounded in his forehead, and the blood ran down his face. 

When Arthur felt the dolour of his hurt, and looked upon his blood, hedesired nothing, save to wreak evil on the man who had wrought thismischief. He pressed the more closely upon Frollo. Lifting Excalibur, his good sword, in both hands, he smote so lustily that Frollo's headwas cloven down to his very shoulders. No helmet nor hauberk, whateverthe armourer's craft, could have given surety from so mighty a blow. Blood and brains gushed from the wound. Frollo fell upon the ground, and beating the earth a little with his chausses of steel, presentlydied, and was still. 

When men saw this bitter stroke the burgesses and sergeants raised aloud cry. Arthur's household rejoiced beyond measure; but those ofthe city wept, making great sorrow for Frollo, their champion. Nevertheless, the citizens of Paris ran to their gates. They set thedoors wide, and welcomed Arthur, his meinie, and company within theirwalls. When Arthur perceived the French were desirous to offer himtheir fealty, he suffered them so to do, taking hostages that theywould abide in peace. He lodged within the city certain days, andappointed governors, for the assurance of his power. After quiet wasestablished, Arthur divided the host into two parts. The one of thesecompanies he delivered into the charge of Hoel, the king's nephew. With the other half he devised to conquer Anjou, Auvergne, Gascony, and Poitou; yea, to overrun Lorraine and Burgundy, if the task didnot prove beyond his power. Hoel did his lord's commandment, even asArthur purposed. He conquered Berri, and afterwards Touraine, Auvergne, Poitou, and Gascony. Guitard, the King of Poitiers, was a valiantcaptain, having good knights in his service. To uphold his realm andhis rights Guitard fought many a hard battle. The luck went this wayand that. Sometimes he was the hunter, sometimes the quarry: often heprevailed, and often, again, he lost. At the end Guitard was persuadedArthur was the stronger lord, and that only by submission could hekeep his own. The land was utterly wasted and ravaged. Beyond thewalls of town and castle there was nothing left to destroy; and of allthe fair vineyards not a vine but was rooted from the ground. Guitardmade overtures of peace, and accorded himself with Hoel. He sworeArthur fealty and homage, so that the king came to love him verydearly. The other parcels of France Arthur conquered them every one byhis own power. When there was peace over all the country, so that nonedared lift a spear against the king, Arthur sought such men as weregrown old in his quarrels, and desired greatly to return to theirhomes. To these feeble sergeants Arthur rendered their wages andgifts, and sent them rejoicing from whence they had come. The knightsof his household, and such lusty youths as were desirous of honour, having neither dame nor children to their hearths, Arthur held in hisservice for yet nine years. During these nine years that Arthur abodein France, he wrought divers great wonders, reproving many haughtymen and their tyrannies, and chastising many sinners after theirdeservings. Now it befell that when Easter was come, Arthur held highfeast at Paris with his friends. On that day the king recompensed hisservants for their losses, and gave to each after his deserts. Hebestowed guerdon meetly on all, according to his zeal and the labourhe had done. To Kay, the master seneschal of his house, a loyal andchivalrous knight, the king granted all Anjou and Angers. Bedevere, the king's cupbearer and very privy counsellor, received that fief ofNormandy, which aforetime was called Neustria. These lords, Kay andBedevere, were Arthur's faithful friends, knowing the inmost counselof his mind. Boulogne was given to Holden: Le Mans to Borel, hiscousin. On each and all, according to his gentleness of heart anddiligence in his lord's service, Arthur bestowed honours and fees, andgranted largely of his lands. 

After Arthur thus had feoffed his lords, and given riches to hisfriends, in April, when winter was gone, he passed the sea to England, his own realm. Marvellous joy was shown of all good folk at the returnof the king. Dames held those husbands close from whom they had beenparted so long. Mothers kissed their sons, with happy tears upon theircheeks. Sons and daughters embraced their fathers. Cousin clippedcousin, and neighbour that friend who once was his companion. Theaunt made much of her sister's son. Ladies kissed long that lover whoreturned from France, yea, when the place was meet, clasped him yetmore sweetly in their arms. Wondrous was the joy shown of all. Inthe lanes and crossways, in the highways and by-ways, you might seefriends a many staying friend, to know how it fared with him, howthe land was settled when it was won, what adventures chanced to theseeker, what profit clave to him thereof, and why he remained so greata while beyond the sea. Then the soldier fought his battles onceagain. He told over his adventures, he spoke of his hard and wearycombats, of the toils he had endured, and the perils from which he wasdelivered. 

Arthur cherished tenderly his servants, granting largely, andpromising richly, to the worthy. He took counsel with his barons, anddevised that for the louder proclamation of his fame and wealth, hewould hold a solemn feast at Pentecost, when summer was come, and thatthen in the presence of his earls and baronage he would be crownedking. Arthur commanded all his lords on their allegiance to meet himat Caerleon in Glamorgan. He desired to be crowned king in Caerleon, because it was rich beyond other cities, and marvellously pleasant andfair. Pilgrims told in those days that the mansions of Caerleon weremore desirable than the palaces of Rome. This rich city, Caerleon, wasbuilded on the Usk, a river which falls within the Severn. He who cameto the city from a strange land, might seek his haven by this fairwater. On one side of the town flowed this clear river; whilst on theother spread a thick forest. Fish were very plentiful in the river, and of venison the burgesses had no lack. Passing fair and deep werethe meadows about the city, so that the barns and granges were veryrich. Within the walls rose two mighty churches, greatly praised. Oneof these famed churches was called in remembrance of Saint Julius theMartyr, and held a convent of holy nuns for the fairer service of God. The second church was dedicate to Saint Aaron, his companion. Thebishop had his seat therein. Moreover, this church was furnished withmany wealthy clergy and canons of seemly life. These clerks werestudents of astronomy, concerning themselves diligently with thecourses of the stars. Often enough they prophesied to Arthur what thefuture would bring forth, and of the deeds that he would do. So goodlywas the city, there was none more delectable in all the earth. Now byreason of the lofty palaces, the fair woods and pastures, the ease andcontent, and all the delights of which you have heard, Arthur desiredto hold his court at Caerleon, and to bid his barons to attend himevery one. He commanded, therefore, to the feast, kings and earls, dukes and viscounts, knights and barons, bishops and abbots. Nor didArthur bid Englishmen alone, but Frenchman and Burgundian, Auvergnatand Gascon, Norman and Poitivin, Angevin and Fleming, together withhim of Brabant, Hainault, and Lorraine, the king bade to his dinner. Frisian and Teuton, Dane and Norwegian, Scot, Irish, and Icelander, him of Cathness and of Gothland, the lords of Galway and of thefurthest islands of the Hebrides, Arthur summoned them all. When thesereceived the king's messages commanding them to his crowning, theyhastened to observe the feast as they were bidden, every one. FromScotland came Aguisel the king, richly vested in his royal robes;there, too, was Unan, King of Murief, together with his son Yvam thecourteous; Lot of Lyones also, to take a brave part in the revels, and with him that very frank and gentle knight Gawain, his son. Therebesides were Stater and Cadual, kings of South Wales and of North, Cador of Cornwall, right near to Arthur's heart; Morud, Earl ofGloucester; and Guerdon, Earl of Winchester. Anavalt came fromSalisbury, and Rimarec from Canterbury. Earl Baldulph drew fromSilchester, and Vigenin from Leicester. There, too, was Algal ofGuivic, a baron much held in honour by the court. Other lords werethere a many, in no wise of less reputation than their fellows. Theson of Po that was hight Donander; Regian, son of Abauder; Ceilus theson of Coil, that son of Chater named Chatellus, Griffin, the heir ofNagroil, Ron, the son of Neco; Margoil, Clefaut, Ringar, Angan, Rimarand Gorbonian, Kinlint, Neco and that Peredur, whom men deemed to begotten by Eladur. Besides these princes there drew to Caerleon suchknights as were of the king's house, and served him about his court. These were his chosen friends, who had their seats at the King's RoundTable, but more of them I cannot tell. Many other lords were there ofonly less wealth and worship than those I have named. So numerous wasthis fair company that I have lost count of their numbers. A noblearray of prelates came also to Arthur's solemn feast. Abbots andmitred bishops walked in their order and degree. The three archbishopsof the realm came in his honour, namely, the Archbishop of London, hisbrother of York, and holy Dubricius, whose chair was in that self samecity. Very holy of life was this fair prelate. Very abundantly helaboured, being Archbishop of Caerleon and Legate of Rome. Manywonderful works were wrought by his hands. The sick were brought tohim gladly, and by reason of his love and his prayers, oftentimesthey were healed of their hurt. In olden days this Dubricius abode inLondon, but now was Bishop in Wales, by reason of the evil times whenkings regarded not God, and the people forsook the churches of theirfathers. These clergy assembled at Arthur's court, for the king'sfeast, together with so great a fellowship of barons that I know noteven to rehearse you their names. 

Yet these must be remembered, whomsoever I forget. Villamus, King ofIreland, and Mahnus, King of Iceland, and Doldamer, lord of that leanand meagre country, known as the land of Goths. Acil, the King of theDanes; Lot, who was King of Norway, and Gonfal, jarl of the lawlessOrkneys, from whence sail the pirates in their ships. From the partsbeyond the seas came Ligier, holding the dukedom and honour ofBurgundy; Holden, Earl of Flanders; and Guerin, Earl of Chartres, having the twelve peers of France in his company, for the richerdignity and splendour of his state. Guitard was there, the Earl ofPoitiers; Kay, whom the king had created Earl of Angers; and Bedevereof Neustria, that province which men now call Normandy. From Le Mansdrew Earl Borel, and from Brittany Earl Hoel. Passing noble of visagewas Hoel, and all those lords who came forth from France. They voyagedto Arthur's court in chased harness and silken raiment, riding onlusty horses with rich trappings, and wearing jewels, with many goldenornaments. There was not a prince from here even unto Spain, yea, tothe very Rhine in the land of Germany, but hastened to Arthur's solemnfeast, so only that he was bidden to that crowning. Of these some cameto look on the face of the king, some to receive of his largenesscostly gifts, some to have speech with the lords of his council. Somedesired to marvel over the abundance of Arthur's wealth, and others tohear tell of the great king's courtesies. This lord was drawn by thecords of love; this by compulsion of his suzerain's ban, this to learnby the witness of his eyes whether Arthur's power and prosperityexceeded that fame of which the whole world bragged. 

When this proud company of kings, bishops, and princes was gatheredtogether to observe Arthur's feast, the whole city was moved. Theking's servants tolled diligently making ready for so great aconcourse of guests. Soldiers ran to and fro, busily seeking hostelsfor this fair assemblage. Houses were swept and garnished, spread withreeds, and furnished with hangings of rich arras. Halls and chamberswere granted to their needs, together with stables for the horses andtheir provand. Those for whom hostelries might not be found abode inseemly lodgings, decently appointed to their degree. The city was fullof stir and tumult. In every place you beheld squires leading horsesand destriers by the bridle, setting saddles on hackneys and takingthem off, buckling the harness and making the metal work shining andbright. Grooms went about their business. Never was such a cleansingof stables, such taking of horses to the meadows, such a currying andcombing, shoeing and loosing of girths, washing and watering, such abearing of straw and of grass for the litter, and oats for the manger. Nor these alone, but in the courtyards and chambers of the hostels youmight see the pages and chamberlains go swiftly about their tasks, indivers fashions. The varlets brushed and folded the habiliments andmantles of their lords. They looked to the stuff and the fastenings oftheir garments. You saw them hurry through the halls carrying furs andfurred raiment, both vair and the grey. Caerleon seemed rather a fairthan a city, at Arthur's feast. 

Now telleth the chronicle of this geste, that when the morning wascome of the day of the high feast, a fair procession of archbishops, bishops, and abbots wended to the king's palace, to place the crownupon Arthur's head, and lead him within the church. Two of thesearchbishops brought him through the streets of the city, one walkingon either side of his person. Each bishop sustained the king by hisarm, and thus he was earned to his throne. Four kings went beforeArthur and the clerks, bearing swords in their hands. Pommel, scabbard, and hilt of these four swords were of wrought gold. This wasthe office of these kings when Arthur held state at his court. Thefirst of the princes was from Scotland, the second from South Wales, the third was of North Wales, and as to the last it was Cador ofCornwall who earned the fourth sword. All these fair princes wereat one in their purpose, being altogether at unity, when Arthur wascrowned king. To holy Dubricius it fell, as prelate of Caerleon andRoman legate, to celebrate the office and perform such rites as wereseemly to be rendered in the church. 

That the queen might not be overshadowed by her husband's state, thecrown was set on her head in another fashion. For her part she hadbidden to her court the great ladies of the country, and such dames aswere the wives of her friends. Together with these had assembled theladies of her kindred, such ladies as were most to her mind, and manyfair and gentle maidens whom she desired to be about her person at thefeast. The presence of this gay company of ladies made the feast yetmore rich, when the queen was crowned in her chamber, and brought tothat convent of holy nuns for the conclusion of the rite. The presswas so great that the queen might hardly make her way through thestreets of the city. Four dames preceded their lady, bearing fourwhite doves in their hands. These dames were the wives of those lordswho carried the golden swords before the king. A fair company ofdamsels followed after the queen, making marvellous joy and delight. This fair fellowship of ladies came from the noblest of the realm. Passing dainty were they to see, wearing rich mantles above theirsilken raiment. All men gazed gladly upon them, for their beauty wassuch that none was sweeter than her fellows. These dames and maidenswent clothed in their softest garments. Their heads were tired intheir fairest hennins, and they walked in their most holiday vesture. Never were seen so many rich kirtles of divers colours, such costlymantles, such precious jewels and rings. Never were seen such furs andsuch ornaments, both the vair and the grey. Never was known so gay andnoble a procession of ladies, as this which hastened to the church, lest it should be hindered from the rite. 

Now within the church Mass was commenced with due pomp and observance. The noise of the organ filled the church, and the clerks sang tunablyin the choir. Their voices swelled or failed, according as the chantmounted to the roof, or died away in supplication. The knights passedfrom one church to the other. Now they would be at the convent of St. Julius, and again at the cathedral church of St. Aaron. This they didto compare the singing of the clerks, and to delight their eyes withthe loveliness of the damsels. Although the knights passed frequentlybetween the churches, yet no man could answer for certain at whichthey remained the longer. They could not surfeit the heart by reasonof the sweetness of the melody. Yea, had the song endured the wholeday through, I doubt those knights would ever have grown weary orcontent. 

When the office drew to its appointed end, and the last words werechanted, the king put off his crown that he had carried to the church. He took another crown which sat more lightly on his head; and in suchfashion did the queen. They laid aside their heavy robes and ornamentsof state, and vested them in less tiring raiment. The king parted fromSt. Aaron's church, and returned to his palace for meat. The queen, for her part, came again to her own house, carrying with her that fairfellowship of ladies, yet making marvellous joy. For the Britons heldstill to the custom brought by their sires from Troy, that when thefeast was spread, man ate with man alone, bringing no lady with himto the board. The ladies and damsels ate apart. No men were in theirhall, save only the servitors, who served them with every observance, for the feast was passing rich, as became a monarch's court. WhenArthur was seated in his chair upon the dais, the lords and princessat around the board, according to the usage of the country, each inhis order and degree. The king's seneschal, hight Sir Kay, servedArthur's table, clad in a fair dalmatic of vermeil silk. With Sir Kaywere a thousand damoiseaux, clothed in ermine, who bore the dishesfrom the buttery. These pages moved briskly about the tables, carryingthe meats in platters to the guests. Together with these were yetanother thousand damoiseaux, gentle and goodly to see, clothedlikewise in coats of ermine. These fair varlets poured the wine fromgolden beakers into cups and hanaps of fine gold. Not one of thesepages but served in a vesture of ermine. Bedevere, the king'scupbearer, himself set Arthur's cup upon the board; and those calledhim master who saw that Arthur's servants lacked not drink. 

The queen had so many servitors at her bidding, that I may not tellyou the count. She and all her company of ladies were waited on, richly and reverently. Right worshipfully were they tended. Theseladies had to their table many rich meats, and wines and spiced drinkof divers curious fashions. The dishes and vessels from which they atewere very precious, and passing fair. I know not how to put before youthe wealth and the splendour of Arthur's feast. Whether for goodly menor for chivalrous deeds, for wealth as for plenty, for courtesy as forhonour, in Arthur's day England bore the flower from all the landsnear by, yea, from every other realm whereof we know. The poorestpeasant in his smock was a more courteous and valiant gentleman thanwas a belted knight beyond the sea. And as with the men, so, and nootherwise, was it with the women. There was never a knight whosepraise was bruited abroad, but went in harness and raiment and plumeof one and the self-same hue. The colour of surcoat and armour inthe field was the colour of the gown he wore in hall. The dames anddamsels would apparel them likewise in cloth of their own colour. Nomatter what the birth and riches of a knight might be, never, in allhis days, could he gain fair lady to his friend, till he had provedhis chivalry and worth. That knight was accounted the most nobly bornwho bore himself the foremost in the press. Such a knight was indeedcherished of the ladies; for his friend was the more chaste as he wasbrave. 

After the king had risen from the feast, he and his fellowship wentwithout the city to take their delight amongst the fields. The lordssought their pleasure in divers places. Some amongst them joustedtogether, that their horses might be proven. Others fenced with thesword, or cast the stone, or flung pebbles from a sling. There werethose who shot with the bow, like cunning archers, or threw darts ata mark. Every man strove with his fellow, according to the game heloved. That knight who proved the victor in his sport, and bore theprize from his companions, was carried before the king in the sight ofall the princes. Arthur gave him of his wealth so goodly a gift, thathe departed from the king's presence in great mirth and content. Theladies of the court climbed upon the walls, looking down on the gamesvery gladly. She, whose friend was beneath her in the field, gavehim the glance of her eye and her face; so that he strove the moreearnestly for her favour. Now to the court had gathered many tumblers, harpers, and makers of music, for Arthur's feast. He who would hearsongs sung to the music of the rote, or would solace himself with thenewest refrain of the minstrel, might win to his wish. Here stoodthe viol player, chanting ballads and lays to their appointed tunes. Everywhere might be heard the voice of viols and harp and flutes. In every place rose the sound of lyre and drum and shepherd's pipe, bagpipe, psaltery, cymbals, monochord, and all manner of music. Herethe tumbler tumbled on his carpet. There the mime and the dancing girlput forth their feats. Of Arthur's guests some hearkened to the tellerof tales and fables. Others called for dice and tables, and playedgames of chance for a wager. Evil befalls to winner and loser alikefrom such sport as this. For the most part men played at chess ordraughts. You might see them, two by two, bending over the board. Whenone player was beaten by his fellow, he borrowed moneys to pay hiswager, giving pledges for the repayment of his debt. Dearly enough hepaid for his loan, getting but eleven to the dozen. But the pledge wasoffered and taken, the money rendered, and the game continued withmuch swearing and cheating, much drinking and quarrelling, with strifeand with anger. Often enough the loser was discontented, and rosemurmuring against his fellow. Two by two the dicers sat at table, casting the dice. They threw in turn, each throwing higher than hisfellow. You might hear them count, six, five, three, four, two, andone. They staked their raiment on the cast, so there were those whothrew half naked. Fair hope had he who held the dice, after his fellowhad cried his number. Then the quarrel rose suddenly from the silence. One called across the table to his companion, "You cheat, and thrownot fairly. Grasp not the dice so tightly in your hand, but shake themforth upon the board. My count is yet before yours. If you still havepennies in your pouch bring them out, for I will meet you to yourwish. " Thus the dicers wrangled, and to many of Arthur's guests itchanced that he who sat to the board in furs, departed from the tablesclothed in his skin. 

When the fourth day of the week was come, on a certain Wednesday, theking made knights of his bachelors, granting them rents to supporttheir stations. He recompensed those lords of his household who heldof him their lands at suit and service. Such clerks as were diligentin their Master's business he made abbots and bishops; and bestowedcastles and towns on his counsellors and friends. To those strangerknights who for his love had crossed the sea in his quarrel, the kinggave armour and destrier and golden ornaments, to their desire. Arthurdivided amongst them freely of his wealth. He granted lordship anddelights, greyhound and brachet, furred gown and raiment, beakerand hanap, sendal and signet, bhaut and mantle, lance and sword andquivers of sharp barbed arrows. He bestowed harness and buckler andweapons featly fashioned by the smith. He gave largesse of bearsand of leopards, of palfreys and hackneys, of chargers with saddlesthereon. He gave the helm as the hauberk, the gold as the silver, yea, he bestowed on his servants the very richest and most precious of histreasure. Never a man of these outland knights, so only he was worthyof Arthur's bounty, but the king granted him such gifts as he mightbrag of in his own realm. And as with the foreign lords, so to thekings and the princes, the knights, and all his barons, Arthur gavelargely many precious gifts. 

Now as King Arthur was seated on a dais with these princes and earlsbefore him, there entered in his hall twelve ancient men, white andgreyheaded, full richly arrayed in seemly raiment. These came withinthe palace two by two. With the one hand each clasped his companion, and in the other carried a fair branch of olive. The twelve elderspassed at a slow pace down the hall, bearing themselves rightworshipfully. They drew near to Arthur's throne, and saluted the kingvery courteously. They were citizens of Rome, said the spokesman ofthese aged men, and were ambassadors from the emperor, bringing withthem letters to the king. Having spoken such words, one amongst themmade ready his parchment, and delivered it in Arthur's hands. This wasthe sum of the writing sent by the Emperor of Rome. 

"Lucius, the Emperor and lord of Rome, to King Arthur, his enemy, these, according to his deservings. I marvel very greatly, and disdainwhilst yet I marvel, the pride and ill-will which have puffed you upto seek to do me evil. I have nothing but contempt and wonder forthose who counsel you to resist the word of Rome, whilst yet one Romandraws his breath. You have acted lightly, and by reason of vanity havewrought mischief to us who are the front and avengers of the world. You resemble a blind man, whose eyes the leech prepares to open. Youknow not yet, but very soon you will have learned, the presumption ofhim who teaches law to the justice of Rome. It is not enough to saythat you have acted after your kind, and sinned according to yournature. Know you not whom you are, and from what dust you have come, that you dare to dispute the tribute to Rome! Why do you steal ourland and our truage? Why do you refuse to render Caesar that which ishis own? Are you indeed so strong that we may not take our richesfrom your hand? Perchance you would show us a marvellous matter. Behold--you say--the lion fleeing from the lamb, the wolf tremblingbefore the kid, and the leopard fearful of the hare. Be not deceived. Nature will not suffer such miracles to happen. Julius Caesar, ourmighty ancestor--whom, maybe, you despise in your heart--conquered theland of Britain, taking tribute thereof, and this you have paid untilnow. From other islands also, neighbours of this, it was our custom toreceive truage. These in your presumption you have taken by force, toyour own most grievous hurt. Moreover, you have been so bold as to putyet greater shame and damage upon us, since Frollo, our tribune, isslain, and France and Britain, by fraud, you keep wrongfully in yourpower. Since, then, you have not feared Rome, neither regarded herhonour, the senate summon you by these letters, and command you underpain of their displeasure, to appear before them at mid August, without fail or excuse. Come prepared to make restitution of that youhave taken, whatever the cost; and to give satisfaction for all thosethings whereof you are accused. If so be you think to keep silence, and do naught of that you are bidden, I will cross the Mont St. Bernard with a mighty host, and pluck Britain and France from yourhand. Do not deem that you can make head against me, neither holdFrance in my despite. Never will you dare to pass that sea, for mydearer pleasure; yea, were your courage indeed so great, yet nevermight you abide my coming. Be persuaded that in what place soever youawait me, from thence I will make you skip. For this is my purpose, tobind you with bonds, and bring you to Rome, and deliver you, bound, tothe judgment of the senate. "

When this letter was read in the hearing of those who were come toArthur's solemnity, a great tumult arose, for they were angered beyondmeasure. Many of the Britons took God to witness that they would dosuch things and more also to those ambassadors who had dared deliverthe message. They pressed about those twelve ancient men, with manywild and mocking words. Arthur rose hastily to his feet, bidding thebrawlers to keep silence. He cried that none should do the Romans amischief, for they were an embassy, and carried the letters of theirlord. Since they were but another's mouthpiece, he commanded that noneshould work them harm. After the noise was at an end, and Arthur wasassured that the elders were no longer in peril, he called his privycouncil and the lords of his household together, in a certain stonekeep, that was named the Giant's Tower. The king would be advised byhis barons--so ran the summons--what answer he should give to themessengers of Rome. Now as they mounted the stairs, earl and prince, pell mell, together, Cador, who was a merry man, saw the king beforehim. "Fair king, " said the earl gaily, "for a great while the thoughthas disturbed me, that peace and soft living are rotting away theBritish bone. Idleness is the stepdame of virtue, as our preachershave often told us. Soft living makes a sluggard of the hardiestknight, and steals away his strength. She cradles him with dreams ofwoman, and is the mother of chambering and wantonness. Folded handsand idleness cause our young damoiseaux to waste their days over merrytales, and dice, raiment to catch a lady's fancy and things that areworse. Rest and assurance of safety will in the end do Britain moreharm than force or guile. May the Lord God be praised Who has joggedour elbow. To my mind He has persuaded these Romans to challenge ourcountry that we may get us from sleep. If the Romans trust so greatlyin their might that they do according to their letters, be assured theBriton has not yet lost his birthright of courage and hardness. I ama soldier, and have never loved a peace that lasts over long, sincethere are uglier things than war. " Gawain overheard these words. "Lordearl, " said he, "by my faith be not fearful because of the young men. Peace is very grateful after war. The grass grows greener, and theharvest is more plenteous. Merry tales, and songs, and ladies' loveare delectable to youth. By reason of the bright eyes and the worshipof his friend, the bachelor becomes knight and learns chivalry. "

Whilst the lords jested amongst themselves in this fashion, theyclimbed the tower, and were seated in the chamber. When Arthur markedthat each was in his place, silent and attentive to the business, heconsidered for a little that he had to speak. Presently he lifted hishead, and spoke such words as these. "Lords, " said the king, "who arehere with me, nay, rather my companions and my friends, companionsalike, whether the day be good or evil, by whose sustenance alone Ihave endured such divers quarrels, hearken well to me. In the daysthat are told, have we not shared victory and defeat together, partners, you with me, as I with you, in gain and in loss? Throughyou, and by reason of your help in time of trouble, have I won manybattles. You have I carried over land and sea, far and near, to manystrange realms. Ever have I found you loyal and true, in businessand counsel. Because of your prowess I hold the heritage of diversneighbouring princes in subjection. Lords, you have hearkened to theletters carried by the ambassadors of Rome, and to the malice theythreaten if we do not after their commandment. Very despiteful arethey against us, and purpose to work us bitter mischief. But if God begracious to His people, we shall yet be delivered from their hand. Nowthese Romans are a strong nation, passing rich and of great power. Itbecomes us therefore to consider prudently what we shall say and do inanswer to their message, looking always to the end. He who is assuredof his mark gets there by the shortest road. When the arrows start tofly, the sergeant takes shelter behind his shield. Let us be cautiousand careful like these. This Lucius seeks to do us a mischief. He isin his right, and it is ours to take such counsel, that his mischieffalls on his own head. To-day he demands tribute from Britain andother islands of the sea. To-morrow he purposes in his thought toreceive truage of France. Consider first the case of Britain, and howto answer wisely therein. Britain was conquered by Caesar of force. The Britons knew not how to keep them against his host, and perforcepaid him their tribute. But force is no right. It is but pride puffedup and swollen beyond measure. They cannot hold of law what they haveseized by violence and wrong. The land is ours by right, even if theRoman took it to himself by force. The Romans really reproach us forthe shame and the damage, the loss and the sorrow Caesar visited uponour fathers. They boast that they will avenge such losses as these, bytaking the land with the rent, and making their little finger thickerthan their father's loins. Let them beware. Hatred breeds hatredagain, and things despiteful are done to those who despitefully useyou. They come with threats, demanding truage, and reproving us forthe evil we have done them. Tribute they claim by the right of thestrong, leaving sorrow and shame as our portion. But if the Romansclaim to receive tribute of Britain because tribute was aforetime paidthem from Britain, by the same reasoning we may establish that Romeshould rather pay tribute to us. In olden days there lived twobrothers, British born, namely, Belinus, King of the Britons, andBrennus, Duke of Burgundy, both wise and doughty lords. These stoutchampions arrived with their men before Rome, and shutting the cityclose, at the end gained it by storm. They took hostages of thecitizens to pay them tribute, but since the burgesses did not observetheir covenant, the brethren hanged the hostages, to the number offour and-twenty, in the eyes of all their kinsfolk. When Belinus wentto his own place, he commended Rome to the charge of Brennus, hisbrother. Now Constantine, the son of Helena, drew from Brennus andBelinus, and in his turn held Rome in his care. Maximian, King ofBritain, after he had conquered France and Germany, passed the MontSt. Bernard into Lombardy, and took Rome to his keeping. These mightykings were my near kinsmen, and each was master of Rome. Thus you haveheard, and see clearly, that not only am I King of Britain, but by lawEmperor of Rome also, so we maintain the rights of our fathers. TheRomans have had truage of us, and my ancestors have taken seisin ofthem. They claim Britain, and I demand Rome. This is the sum and endof my counsel as regards Britain and Rome. Let him have the fief andthe rent who is mightier in the field. As to France and those othercountries which have been removed from their hands, the Romans shouldnot wish to possess that which they may not maintain. Either theland was not to their mind, or they had not the strength to hold it. Perchance the Romans have no rights in the matter, and it is by reasonof covetousness rather than by love of law, that they seek thisquarrel. Let him keep the land who can, by the right of the moststrong. For all these things the emperor menaces us very grievously. Ipray God that he may do us no harm. Our fiefs and goods he promisesto take from us, and lead us captive in bonds to Rome. We care notovermuch for this, and are not greatly frighted at his words. If heseek us after his boast, please God, he will have no mind to threatenwhen he turns again to his own home. We accept his challenge, andappeal to God's judgment, that all may be rendered to his keeping, whois able to maintain it in his hand. "

When Arthur the king had made an end of speaking in the ears of hisbarons, the word was with those who had hearkened to his counsel. Hoelfollowed after the king. "Sire, " said he, "you have spoken much, andright prudently, nor is there any who can add wisdom to your speech. Summon now your vassals and meinie, together with us who are of yourhousehold. Cross the sea straightway into France, and make the realmsure with no further tarrying. From thence we can pass Mont St. Bernard, and overrun Lombardy. By moving swiftly we shall carry thewar into the emperor's own land. We shall fright him so greatly thathe will have the less leisure to trouble Britain. Your movements, moreover, will be so unlooked for that the Romans will be altogetheramazed, and quickly confounded. Sire, it is the Lord's purpose toexalt you over all the kings of the earth. Hinder not the will of Godby doubtfulness. He is able to put even Rome in your power, so only itbe according to His thought. Remember the books of the Sibyl, and ofthe prophecies therein. The Sibyl wrote that three kings should comeforth from Britain, who of their might should conquer Rome. Of thesethree princes, two are dead. Belinus is dead, and Constantine is dead, but each in his day was the master of Rome. You are that third kingdestined to be stronger than the great city. In you the prophecy shallbe fulfilled, and the Sibyl's words accomplished. Why then scruple totake what God gives of His bounty? Rise up then, exalt yourself, exaltyour servants, who would see the end of God's purpose. I tell youtruly that nothing of blows or hurt, neither weariness nor prison nordeath, counts aught with us in comparison with what is due to theking's honour. For my part, I will ride in your company, so long asthis business endures, with ten thousand armed horsemen at my back. Moreover, if your treasury has need of moneys for the quarrel, I willput my realm in pledge, and deliver the gold and the gain to yourhand. Never a penny will I touch of my own, so long as the king hasneed. "

After Hoel had ended his counsel, Aguisel, King of Scotland, who wasbrother to Lot and to Urian, stood on his feet. "Sire, " said he, "thewords you have spoken in this hall, where are gathered the flower ofyour chivalry, are dear to their ears, for we have listened to thedisdainful messages of Rome. Be assured that each of your peers willaid you to the utmost of his power. Now is the time and occasion toshow forth the counsel and help we can afford to our king. Not one ofus here who is a subject of your realm, and holds his manors of thecrown, but will do his duty to his liege, as is but just and right. Notidings I have heard for a great while past sounded so good and fairas the news that presently we shall have strife with Rome. TheseRomans are a people whom I neither love with my heart, nor esteem inmy mind, but hate because they are very orgulous and proud. Uprightfolk should avoid their fellowship, for they are an evil and acovetous race, caring for no other matter but to heap treasuretogether, and add to their store. The emperor of this people, by fraudand deceit, has fastened this quarrel upon us, sending you letterswith an embassy. He deems that Britain is no other than it was, orhe would not demand his measure of tribute, pressed down and runningover. The Roman has raised such a smoke that his fingers will quicklybe scorched in the flame. Moreover, had the Roman kept quiet, even hadhe refrained from threats, it becomes our honour, of our own choice, to enter on this war, to avenge the wrongs of our fathers, and toabase his pride. The Romans' logic is that they are entitled toreceive tribute at our hands, by reason that their fathers, in theirday, took truage of our ancestors. If this be so, it was no free-willoffering of our fathers, but was wrenched from them by force. So beit. By force we take again our own, and revenge ourselves for all thepilling of the past. We are a perilous people, who have proved victorsin divers great battles, and brought many a bitter war to a good end. But what profit is ours of nil these triumphs, so long as we cry not'check' to Rome! I desire not drink to my lips when athirst, nor meatto my mouth when an hungered, as I desire the hour when we hurtletogether in the field. Then hey for the helm laced fast, the liftedshield, for the brandished sword, and the mighty horse. God! whatspoil and rich ransom will he gain whose body God keeps with Hisbuckler that day. Never again will he be poor till his life's end. Cities and castles will be his for the sacking; and mules, sumpters, and destriers to the heart's desire. On then, comrades, to theconquest of Rome, and to the parcelling of the Romans' lands. When theproud city is destroyed, and its wardens slain, there remains yet awork for us to do. We will pass into Lorraine, and seize the realm. Wewill make our pleasaunce of all the strongholds of Germany. So we willdo, till there endures not a land to the remotest sea but is Arthur'sfief, nor one only realm to pluck them from his power. Right or wrongthis is our purpose. That my blow may be heavy as my word, and thedeed accord with the speech, I am ready to go with the king, and tenthousand riders with me, besides men-at-arms in such plenty that noman may count them. "

When the King of Scotland had spoken, there was much stir and tumult, all men crying that he would be shamed for ever who did not his utmostin this quarrel. Arthur and his baronage being of one mind together, the king wrote certain letters to Rome, and sealed them with hisring. These messages he committed to the embassy, honouring rightworshipfully those reverend men. "Tell your countrymen, " said theking, "that I am lord of Britain: that I hold France, and willcontinue to hold it, and purpose to defend it against the Roman power. Let them know of a surety that I journey to Rome presently at theirbidding, only it will be not to carry them tribute, but rather to seekit at their hand. " The ambassadors, therefore, took their leave, andwent again to Rome. There they told where and in what fashion theywere welcomed of the king, and reported much concerning him. ThisArthur--said these ancient men--is a lord amongst kings, generous andbrave, lettered and very wise. Not another king could furnish theriches spent on his state, by reason of the attendance of hisministers, and the glory of their apparel. It was useless to seektribute from Arthur, since in olden days Britain received tribute ofRome. 

Now when the senate had heard the report of the messengers, andconsidered the letters wherewith they were charged, they werepersuaded of ambassador and message alike that Arthur neither would dohomage nor pay them the tribute they demanded. The senate, therefore, took counsel with the emperor, requiring him to summon all the empireto his aid. They devised that with his host he should pass through themountains into Burgundy, and giving battle to King Arthur deprive himof kingdom and crown. Lucius Tiberius moved very swiftly. He sentmessages to kings, earls, and dukes, bidding them as they loved honourto meet him on a near day at Rome, in harness for the quest. At theemperor's commandment came many mighty lords, whose names I findwritten in the chronicles of those times. To meet Lucius cameEpistrophius, King of the Greeks, Ession, King of Broeotia, and Itarc, King of the Turks, a passing strong and perilous knight. With thesewere found Pandras, King of Egypt, and Hippolytus, King of Crete. These were lords of very great worship, a hundred cities owning theirtyranny. Evander drew from Syria, and Teucer from Phrygia; fromBabylon came Micipsa, and from Spain, Aliphatma. From Media came KingBocus, from Libya, Sertonus, from Bithyma, Polydetes, and from Idumea, King Xerxes Mustansar, the King of Africa, came from his distant home, many a long days' journey. With him were black men and Moors, bearingtheir king's rich treasure. The senate gave of their number thesepatricians: Marcellus and Lucius Catellus, Cocta, Cams, and Metellus. Many other lords gladly joined themselves to that company, whosenames for all my seeking I have not found. When the host was gatheredtogether, the count of the footmen was four hundred thousand armedmen, besides one hundred and eighty thousand riders on horses. Thismighty army, meetly ordered and furnished with weapons, set forth on aday to give Arthur battle from Rome. 

Arthur and his baronage departed from the court to make them readyfor battle. The king sent his messengers to and fro about the land, calling and summoning each by his name, to hasten swiftly with hispower, so that he valued Arthur's love. Not a knight but was bidden toride on his allegiance, with all the men and horses that he had. Thelords of the isles, Ireland, Gothland, Iceland, Denmark, Norway andthe Orkneys, promised for their part one hundred and forty thousandmen, armed and clad according to the fashion of their country. Ofthese not a horseman but was a cunning rider, not a footman but borehis accustomed weapon, battle-axe, javelin, or spear Normandy andAnjou, Auvergne and Poitou, Flanders and Boulogne promised, withoutlet, eighty thousand sergeants more, each with his armour on his back. So much it was their right and privilege to do, they said. The twelvepeers of France, who were of the fellowship of Guenn of Chartres, promised every one to ride at Arthur's need, each man with a hundredlances. This was their bounden service, said these peers. Hoel ofBrittany promised ten thousand men, Aguisel of Scotland two thousandmore. From Britain, his proper realm, that we now call England, Arthurnumbered forty thousand horsemen in hauberks of steel. As for thecount of the footmen--arbalestriers, archers, and spearmen--it wasbeyond all measure, for the number of the host was as the grains of thesand. When Arthur was certified of the greatness of his power, andof the harness of his men, he wrote letters to each of his captains, commanding him that on an appointed day he should come in ships toBarfleur in Normandy. The lords of his baronage, who had repaired fromthe court to their fiefs, hastened to make ready with those whom theyshould bring across the sea. In like manner Arthur pushed on with hisbusiness, that nothing should hinder or delay. 

Arthur committed the care of his realm, and of Dame Guenevere, hiswife, to his nephew, Mordred, a marvellously hardy knight, whom Arthurloved passing well. Mordred was a man of high birth, and of many noblevirtues, but he was not true. He had set his heart on Guenevere, hiskinswoman, but such a love brought little honour to the queen. Mordredhad kept this love close, for easy enough it was to hide, since whowould be so bold as to deem that he loved his uncle's dame? The ladyon her side had given her love to a lord of whom much good was spoken, but Mordred was of her husband's kin! This made the shame moreshameworthy. Ah, God, the deep wrong done in this season by Mordredand the queen. 

Arthur, having put all the governance in Mordred's power, save onlythe crown, went his way to Southampton. His meinie was lodged aboutthe city, whilst his vessels lay within the haven. The harbour wasfilled with the ships. They passed to and fro; they remained atanchorage; they were bound together by cables. The carpenter yet wasbusy upon them with his hammer. Here the shipmen raised the mast, and bent the sail. There they thrust forth bridges to the land, andcharged the stores upon the ship. The knights and the sergeantsentered therein in their order, bearing pikes, and leading the fearfulhouses by the rein. You could watch them crying farewell, and wavingtheir hands, to those remaining on the shore. When the last man hadentered in the last ship the sailors raised the anchors, and workedthe galleys from the haven. Right diligently the mariners laboured, spreading the sails, and making fast the stays. They pulled stoutlyupon the hoists and ropes, so that the ships ran swiftly out to sea. Then they made the ropes secure, each in its wonted place. The captainwho was charged with the safety of the ship set his course carefully, whilst pilot and steersman needfully observed his word. At his biddingthey put the helm to port, to lee, as they might better fill theirsails with the wind. As need arose the shipmen drew upon the cords andbowlines, or let the canvas fall upon the deck, that the vessel mightbe the less beaten of the waves. Thus, loosing and making fast, letting go and bringing quickly to the deck, hauling and tugging atthe ropes--so they proceeded on their way. When night was come, theysteered their courses by the stars, furling the sails that the windshould not carry them from their path. Very fearful were the marinersof the dark, and went as slowly as they were able. Passing bold washe, that first courteous captain, who builded the first ship, andcommitting his body to the wind and waves, set forth to seek a land hemight not see, and to find such haven as men had never known. 

Now it came to pass that whilst the host voyaged in great content witha fair wind towards Barfleur, that Arthur slept, for he was passingheavy, and it was night. As the king slumbered he beheld a vision, and, lo, a bear flying high in air towards the east. Right huge andhideous of body was the bear, and marvellously horrible to see. Alsothe king saw a dragon flying over against him towards the west. Thebrightness of his eyes was such, that the whole land and sea werefilled with the radiance of his glory. When these two beasts cametogether, the dragon fell upon the bear, and the bear defended himselfvaliantly against his adversary. But the dragon put his enemy beneathhim, and tumbling him to the earth, crushed him utterly in the dust. When Arthur had slept for awhile, his spirit came to him again, and heawoke and remembered his dream. The king called therefore for his wiseclerks, and related to them and his household the vision that he hadseen of the bear and; of the dragon. Then certain of these clerksexpounded to the king his dream, and the interpretation thereof. Thedragon that was beholden of the king signified himself. By the bearwas shown forth a certain horrible giant, come from a far land, whomhe should slay. The giant desired greatly that the adventure shouldend in another fashion; nevertheless all would be to the king'sprofit. But Arthur replied, "My interpretation of the dream is otherthan yours. To me it typifies rather the issue of the war betweenmyself and the emperor. But let the Creator's will be done. "

After these words no more was spoken until the rising of the sun. Very early in the morning they came to haven at Barfleur in Normandy. Presently the host issued from the ships, and spread themselvesabroad, to await the coming of those who tarried on the way. Now theyhad but dwelled for a little while in the land when tidings werebrought to the king that a marvellously strong giant, newly comefrom Spain, had ravished Helen, the niece of his kinsman, Hoel. Thisdoleful lady the giant had carried to a high place known as St. Michael's Mount, though in that day there was neither church normonastery on the cliff, but all was shut close by the waves of thesea. There was none in the country so hardy and strong, whether gentleor simple of birth, that dared to do battle with the giant, or evento come where he lay. Often enough the folk of the land had gatheredthemselves together, and compassed about the rock both by land andsea, but little had they gained from their labour. For the giant hadbeaten their boats amongst the rocks, so that they were slain ordrowned. Therefore they left him to himself, since there was noneto hinder his pleasure. The peasants of the realm were exceedingsorrowful. Their enemy spoiled their houses, harried their cattle, bore away their wives and children, and returned to his fastness onthe mount. The villeins lurked in the woods from his wrath. Theyperished of misery in secret places, so that the whole land wasbarren, because there was none to labour in the fields. Thismarvellous giant had to name Dinabuc. Not a soul but prayed that hemight come to an evil end. When Arthur heard these lamentable tidingshe called to him Kay the seneschal and Bedevere his cupbearer, for hewould open his counsel to no other man. He told them his purpose todepart from the camp that same night privily, taking none with him, save themselves alone. None but they would know of his errand, for herode to the mount to be assured as to whether he or the giant wasthe stouter champion. All through the night the three rode together, sparing not the spur. At daybreak they came upon the ford that leadsacross the water to the mount. Looking towards the mount they behelda burning fire upon the hill, that might be seen from very far. Overagainst the mount was set another hill, near by, and of lesser height, and upon this hill also a fire of coals. Arthur gazed from hill tomountain. He doubted where the giant lodged, and in which of these twohigh places he should come upon him. There was no man to ask of hisdwelling, nor to tell of his outgoings. Arthur bade Bedevere to gofirst to the one and then to the other hill, seeking news of thegiant. When he had found that which he sought, he must return swiftly, bringing good tidings. Bedevere set forth upon his quest. He enteredinto a little boat, and rowed over to that mount which was nearer. Hecould cross in no other manner, for the tide was very full, and allthe sand was covered of the sea. Bedevere got him from the boat, andbegan to climb the hill. As he climbed he stood still for a space, andhearkened. From above Bedevere might hear a noise of sore weeping, andloud lamentation, and doleful sighs. The knight grew cold at the heartroot by reason of his exceeding fear, since he deemed to have comeupon the giant at his play. Presently the courage returned to hisbreast, and drawing the sword from its sheath, he advanced stoutly upthe hill. Bedevere considered within himself that it were better fora knight to die, rather than know himself a coward. He reproachedhimself for his tearfulness, and in heart and hope desired only tobring the adventure to a good end. His wish proved but vain. WhenBedevere won the summit of the mountain, there was no giant, but onlya flaming fire, and close by the fire a new-digged grave. The knightdrew near this fire, with the sword yet naked in his hand. Lyingbeside the grave he found an old woman, with rent raiment andstreaming hair, lamenting her wretched case. She bewailed also thefate of Helen, making great dole and sorrow, with many shrill cries. When this piteous woman beheld Bedevere upon the mount, "Oh, wretchedman, " she exclaimed, "what is thy name, and what misadventure leadsyou here! Should the giant find thee in his haunt, this very day thylife will end in shame and grief and hurt. Flee, poor wretch, upon thyroad, before he spies thee. Be pitiful to thyself, nor seek to die, for who art thou to deliver thyself from his wrath!" "Good dame, " madereply Sir Bedevere, "give over weeping and answer my words. Tell mewho you are, and why you shed these tears. For what reason do youabide in this isle, and crouch beside this tomb? Answer me plainlyconcerning your adventure. " "Fair lord, " replied the ancient lady, "Iam a forsaken and a most unhappy woman. I make my lamentation for adamsel, named Helen, whom I nourished at my breast, the niece of DukeHoel of this realm. Here lies her body in this tomb, that was given tome to cherish. Alas, for her who was set upon my knees! Alas, for herI cherished in my bosom! A certain devil ravished her away, and mealso, bearing us both to this his lair. The giant would have had to dowith the maiden, but she was so tender of her years that she might notendure him. Passing young was the maid, whilst he, for his part, wasso gross and weighty of bone and flesh, that her burden was more thanshe could bear. For this the soul departed from her body. Alas, wretchthat I am, I remain alive, and she, my joy and my love, my sweetnessand my delight, was foully done to death by this giant. Nothing wasleft for me to do, but to put her body in the earth. " "For what reasondo you abide in this hill, " asked Sir Bedevere, "since Helen is gonebefore?" "Will thou learn of the reason, " said the ancient damsel, "then it shall not be hidden; for easy it is to see that thou art agentle and a courteous man. When Helen had gone her way in shame andsorrow, the giant constrained me to abide that I might suffer hispleasure. This he did, although my heart was hot because I had seen mylady die in sore anguish. Force keeps me in this haunt, force makesme his sport. You cannot think that I stay of my own free will on themount. I but submit to the will of the Lord. Would to God that I weredead, as for a little more I should be slain of the giant. But if I amolder of years, I am also stronger, and harder, and more firm inmy purpose, than ever was my frail Lady Helen. Nevertheless I amwell-nigh gone, and have little longer to endure. Perchance even thisvery day will be my last. Friend, tarry here no further whomsoeverthou mayst be. Flee while you can, for behold the fire smokes upon themountain, and the devil makes him ready to ascend, according to hiscustom. Be not snared within his net. Depart, and leave an old womanto her tears and sorrow; for I have no care to live, since Helen andher love are spoiled with dust. "

When Bedevere heard this adventure he was filled with pity. With hiswhole heart he comforted the damsel as gently as he might. He lefther for a season, and hastening down the hill came straightway to theking. Bedevere showed his lord of all that he had heard and seen. Hetold over the tale of that ancient nurse lamenting by a grave; ofHelen who was dead, and of the giant's haunt upon the higher of thehills which smoked. Arthur was passing heavy at Helen's fate. Hewasted no time in tears, nor suffered himself to be fearful. Arthurbade his companions get into their harness, and ride with him to theford. The tide was now at the ebb, so that they crossed on theirhorses, and came speedily to the foot of the hill. There theydismounted, giving their mantles and destriers to the charge of thesquires. Arthur, Bedevere, and Kay, the three together, began brisklyto climb the mount. After they had climbed for a while Arthur spake tohis fellows: "Comrades, I go before to do battle with the giant. Foryour part you must follow a little after. But let neither of you be sobold as to aid me in my quarrel, so long as I have strength to strive. Be the buffets what they may, stand you still, unless he beats me tothe ground. It is not seemly that any, save one, should have lot inthis business. Nevertheless so you see me in utmost peril and fear, come swiftly to my succour, nor let me find death at his hands. " SirKay and Sir Bedevere made this covenant with their lord, and the threeknights together set forth again up the hill. Now when Arthur drewnear to the summit of the mount, he beheld the giant crouched abovehis fire. He broiled a hog within the flame upon a spit. Part of theflesh he had eaten already, and part of the meat was charred andburning in the fire. He was the more hideous to see because his beardand hair were foul with blood and coal. Arthur trusted to take himthus unready, before he could get to his mace. But the giant spied hisadversary, and all amarvelled leapt lightly on his feet. He raised theclub above his shoulder, albeit so heavy that no two peasants of thecountry could lift it from the ground. Arthur saw the giant afoot, andthe blow about to fall. He gripped his sword, dressing the bucklerhigh to guard his head. The giant struck with all his strength uponthe shield, so that the mountain rang like an anvil. The stroke wasstark, and Arthur stood mazed at the blow, but he was hardy andstrong, and did not reel. When the king came to himself, and markedthe shield shattered on his arm, he was marvellously wroth. He raisedhis sword and struck full at the giant's brow. The blow was shrewd, and would have brought the combat to an end had not the giant parriedwith his mace. Even so, his head was sorely hurt, and the blood randown his face, that he might not see. When the giant knew that he waswounded to his hurt, he became in his rage as a beast possessed. Heturned grimly on his adversary, even as the boar, torn of the houndsand mangled by the hunting knife, turns on the hunter. Filled withire and malice the giant rushed blindly on the king. Heedless of thesword, he flung his arms about him, and putting forth the full measureof his might, bore Arthur to his knees. Arthur was ardent and swiftand ready of wit. He remembered his manhood, and struggled upright onhis feet. He was altogether angered, and fearful of what might hap. Since strength could not help, he called subtlety to his aid. Arthurmade his body stiff like a rod, and held himself close, for he waspassing strong. He feigned to spring on his foe, but turning aside, slipped quickly from under the giant's arms. When Arthur knew hisperson free of these bands, he passed swiftly to and fro, eluding hisenemy's clasp. Now he was here, now there, ofttimes striking with thesword. The giant ran blindly about, groping with his hands, for hiseyes were full of blood, and he knew not white from black. SometimesArthur was before him, sometimes behind, but never in his grip, tillat the end the king smote him so fiercely with Excalibur that the bladeclove to his brain, and he fell. He cried out in his pain, and thenoise of his fall and of this exceeding bitter cry was as fetters ofiron tormented by the storm. 

Arthur stood a little apart, and gazed upon his adversary. He laughedaloud in his mirth; for his anger was well-nigh gone. He commandedBedevere, his cupbearer, to strike off the giant's head, and deliverit to the squires, that they might bear it to the host, for thegreater marvel. Bedevere did after his lord's behest. He drew hissword, and divided the head from the shoulders. Wonderfully huge andhideous to sight was the head of this giant. Never, said Arthur, hadhe known such fear; neither had met so perilous a giant, save onlythat Riton, who had grieved so many fair kings. This Riton in his daymade war upon divers kings. Of these some were slain in battle, andothers remained captive in his hand. Alive or dead, Riton used themdespitefully; for it was his wont to shave the beards of thesekings, and purfle therewith a cloak of furs that he wore, very rich. Vainglorious beyond measure was Riton of his broidered cloak. Now byreason of folly and lightness, Riton sent messages to Arthur, biddinghim shave his beard, and commend it forthwith to the giant, in allgood will. Since Arthur was a mightier lord and a more virtuous princethan his fellows, Riton made covenant to prefer his beard beforetheirs, and hold it in honour as the most silken fringe of his mantle. Should Arthur refuse to grant Riton the trophy, then nought was thereto do, but that body to body they must fight out their quarrel, insingle combat, alone. He who might slay his adversary, or force himto own himself vanquished, should have the beard for his guerdon, together with the mantle of furs, fringes and garniture and all. Arthur accorded with the giant that this should be so. They met inbattle on a high place, called Mount Aravius, in the far east, andthere the king slew Riton with the sword, spoiling him of that richgarment of furs, with its border of dead kings' beards. Therefore, said Arthur, that never since that day had he striven with so perilousa giant, nor with one of whom he was so sorely frighted. NeverthelessDinabuc was bigger and mightier than was Riton, even in the prime ofhis youth and strength. For a monster more loathly and horrible, agiant so hideous and misshapen, was never slain by man, than the devilArthur killed to himself that day, in Mont St. Michel, over againstthe sea. 

After Arthur had slam the monster, and Bedevere had taken his head, they went their way to the host in great mirth and content. Theyreached the camp, and showed the spoil to all who would, for theirhearts were high with that which they had done. Hoel was passingsorrowful for that fair lady, his niece, making great lamentation fora while over her who was lost in so fearsome a fashion. In token ofhis dolour he budded on the mount a chapel to Our Lady St. Mary, thatmen call Helen's Tomb to this very day. Although this fair chapelwas raised above the grave of this piteous lady, and is yet hightTombelame, none gives a thought to the damsel after whom it is named. Nothing more have I to relate concerning this adventure, and wouldtell you now of that which happened to the host. 

When the men of Ireland, and those others for whom Arthur tarried, hadjoined themselves to the host, the king set forth, a day's march everyday, through Normandy. Without pause or rest he and his fellowshippassed across France, tarrying neither at town nor castle, and camespeedily into Burgundy. The king would get to Autun as swiftly ashe might, for the Romans were spoiling the land, and Lucius theiremperor, together with a great company, purposed to enter in the city. Now when Arthur drew to the ford, leading across the waters of theAube, his spies and certain peasants of those parts came near andwarned him privily concerning the emperor, who lay but a little waythence, so that the king could seek him, if he would. The Romans hadsheltered them in tents, and in lodges of branches. They were as thesand of the shore for multitude, so that the peasants marvelled thatthe earth could bring forth for the footmen and horses. Never mightthe king store and garner in that day, for where he reaped withone, Lucius the emperor would reap with four. Arthur was in no wisedismayed at their words. He had gone through many and divers perils, and was a valiant knight, having faith and affiance in God. On alittle hill near this river Aube, Arthur builded earthworks for hishost, making the place exceeding strong. He closed the doors fast, and put therein a great company of knights and men at arms to holdit close. In this fortress he set his harness and stores, so that hecould repair thither to his camp in time of need. When all was doneArthur summoned to his counsel two lords whom he esteemed for fair andready speech. These two lords were of high peerage. Guerin of Chartreswas one, and the other was that Boso, Earl of Oxford, right learnedin the law. To these two barons Arthur added Gawain, who had dwelt inRome for so long a space. This Arthur did by reason that Gawain was agood clerk, meetly schooled, and held in much praise and honour by hisfriends in Rome. These three lords the king purposed to send as anembassy to the emperor. They were to bear his message, bidding theRomans to turn again to their own land, nor seek to enter France, for it pertained to the king. Should Lucius persist in his purpose, refusing to return whence he came, then let him give battle on theearliest day, to determine whether Arthur or he had the better right. This thing was certain. So long as Arthur had breath he would maintainhis claim to France, despite the Roman power. He had gained it by thesword, and it was his by right of conquest. In ancient days Rome, inher turn, held it by the same law. Then let the God of battles decidewhether Britain or Rome had the fairer right to France. 

The messengers of the king apparelled themselves richly for theirmaster's honour. They mounted on their fairest destriers, vested inhauberks of steel, with laced helmets, and shields hung round theirnecks. They took their weapons in their hands, and rode forth from thecamp. Now when certain knights and divers bold and reckless varletssaw the embassy make ready to seek the emperor, they came to Gawainand gave him freely of their counsel. These exhorted him that when hereached the court, to which he fared, he should act in such fashion, right or wrong, that a war would begin which had threatened overlong. Yea, to use such speech that if no matter of dispute should be foundat the meeting, there might yet be quarrel enough when they parted. The embassy accorded, therefore, that they would so do as to constrainthe Romans to give battle. Gawain and his comrades crossed a mountain, and came through a wood upon a wide plain. At no great distance theybeheld the tents and lodges of the host. When the Romans saw the threeknights issue from the wood, they drew near to look upon their facesand to inquire of their business. They asked of them concerning whomthey sought, and if for peace they had come within the camp. But thethree knights refused to answer, for good or evil, until they were ledbefore the lord of Rome. The embassy got from their horses before theemperor's pavilion. They gave their bridles to the hands of the pages, but as to their swords concealed them beneath their mantles. The threeknights showed neither salutation nor courtesy when they stood in theemperor's presence. They rehearsed over Arthur's message, whilst Luciushearkened attentively to their words. Each of the ambassadors saidthat which pleased him to be said, and told over what he held properto be told. The emperor listened to each and all without interruption. After he had considered at his leisure he purposed to reply. "We comefrom Arthur, our lord, " said Gawain, "and bear to thee his message. Heis our king, and we are his liegemen, so it becomes us to speak onlythe words he has put in our mouth. By us, his ambassadors, he bids yourefrain from setting a foot in France. He forbids you to intermeddlewith the realm, for it is his, and he will defend his right with suchpower, that very certainly you may not snatch it from his hand. Arthurrequires you to seek nothing that is his. If, however, you challengehis claim to France, then battle shall prove his title good, and bybattle you shall be thrown back to your own land. Once upon a time theRomans conquered this realm by force, and by force they maintainedtheir right. Let battle decide again whether Rome or Britain has thepower to keep. Come forth to-morrow with thy host, so that it may beproven whether you or we shall hold France. If you fear this thing, then go your way in peace, as indeed is best, for what else is thereto do! The game is played, and Rome and you have lost. " Lucius theemperor made answer that he did not purpose to return to his realm. France was his fief, and he would visit his own. If he might notpursue his road to-day, why, then to-morrow. But in heart and hope hedeemed himself mighty enough to conquer France, and to take all in hisseisin. Now Quintilian, the nephew of the emperor, was seated by hisside. He took the word suddenly from his uncle's mouth, for he was apassing proud youth, quick to quarrel, and very bitter in speech. "TheBritons, " cried he, "are known to all as a vainglorious people. Theythreaten readily, and they boast and brag more readily still. We havelistened to their menaces, but we remember they are of those who boastthe more because they act the less. " Quintilian, as I deem, would havecontinued with yet other grievous words, but Gawain, who was hot withanger, drew forth his sword, and springing forward, made the head flyfrom his shoulders. He cried to his comrades that they should get totheir horses, and the earls won their way from the pavilion, Gawainwith them, and they with him. Each seized his steed by the bridle, and climbed nimbly in the saddle. Then they rode forth from the camp, shield on shoulder, and lance in hand, asking no leave of any. 

The patricians within the pavilion sat silent for a space after thatbitter stroke. The emperor was the first to come from his amazement. "Why sit you here?" cried Lucius; "follow after those men who have setthis shame upon us. Ill fall the day, if they come not to my hand!"The bravest of his household ran from the tent crying for harness andhorses. From every side arose the shouting, "Swiftly, swiftly; bridleand spur; gallop, gallop. " The whole host was mightily moved together. They set saddles on destriers, and led the steeds from the stable. They girt their baldrics about them, and taking their lances, spurredafter the fugitives. The three barons pricked swiftly across theplain. They looked this way and that; often glancing behind them tomark how nearly they were followed. The Romans pursued them pell-mell;some on the beaten road, and others upon the heavy fields. They cameby two, or three, or five, or six, in little clumps of spears. Now acertain Roman rode in advance of his fellows, by reason of his goodhorse, which was right speedy. He followed closely after the Britons, calling loudly, "Lords, stay awhile. He knows himself guilty who fleesthe pursuer. " At his word Guerin of Chartres turned him about. Heset his buckler before him, and lowering the lance, hurtled upon hisadversary. Guerin rode but the one course. He smote the Roman sofiercely, midmost the body, that he fell from his destrier, and died. Guerin looked on the fallen man. He said, "A good horse is not alwaysgreat riches. Better for you had you lain coy in your chamber, than tohave come to so shameful an end. " When Boso beheld this adventure ofGuerin, and heard his words, he was filled with desire of such honour. He turned his horse's head, and seeing before him a knight seekingadvancement, ran upon him with the spear. Boso smote his adversaryin the throat, where the flesh is soft and tender. The Roman fellstraightway to the ground, for his hurt was very grievous. Boso criedgaily to his stricken foe, "Master Roman, you must needs be fed withgobbets and dainties. Take now your rest, till your comrades may tendyou. Then give them the message that I leave you in their care. " Amongthe pursuers spurred a certain patrician named Marcellus, who was comeof a very noble house. This Marcellus was amongst the last to getin his saddle, but by reason of the strength and swiftness of hisdestrier he rode now with the foremost. He had forgotten his lance, inhis haste to follow his fellows. Marcellus strove hotly to overtakeGawain. He rode furiously with bloody spur and loosened rein. Hishorse approached nearly to Gawain's crupper, and the knight waspersuaded that in no wise might he shake off his pursuer. AlreadyMarcellus had stretched forth his hand, promising Gawain his life ifhe would yield as his prisoner. Gawain watched his hunter wanly. WhenMarcellus was upon him, Gawain drew his rein sharply, so that theRoman overran the chace. As he passed, Gawain plucked forth hissword, and smote Marcellus terribly on the helmet. No coif couldhave hindered the stroke, for it divided the head down to the veryshoulders. Marcellus tumbled from his horse and went to his place. Then said Gawain, of his courtesy, "Marcellus, when you greetQuintilian deep in hell, tell him, I pray, that you have found theBritons as bold as their boast. Tell him that they plead the law withblows, and bite more fiercely than they bark. " Gawain called upon hiscompanions, Guerin and Boso, by their names, to turn them about, andenter the lists with their pursuers. The two knights did cheerfullyafter his counsel, so that three Romans were shocked from theirsaddles. Then the messengers rode swiftly on their way, whilst theRomans followed after, seeking in all things to do them a mischief. They thrust at the Britons with lances, they struck mightily withthe sword, yet never might wound nor hurt, neither bring them to theearth, nor make them their captives. There was a certain Roman, akinsman of Marcellus, who bestrode a horse that was right speedy. ThisRoman was very dolent, because of his cousin's death, for he had seenhis body lying in the dust. He spurred his steed across the plain, andgaining upon the three knights, made ready to avenge his kinsman'sblood. Gawain watched him ride, with lifted sword, as one who deemedto smite the shield. When Gawain perceived his purpose, he dropped thelance, for he had no need of a spear. He drew his sword, and as theRoman, with brand raised high above his head, prepared to strike, Gawain smote swiftly at the lifted limb. Arm and sword alike flew faroff in the field, the fist yet clasped about the hilt. Gawain dressedhis glaive again. He would have bestowed yet another buffet, but theRomans hastened to the succour of their fellow, and he dared not stay. In this fashion the huntsmen followed after the quarry, till the chasedrew near a wood, close by the entrance to that fortress Arthur hadnewly built. 

Now Arthur had appointed six thousand horsemen of his host to followafter his messengers. He commanded these horsemen to go by hill andvalley to guard against surprise. They were to watch diligently forthe ambassadors, affording them succour, so they were beset. Thisgreat company of spears was hidden in the wood. They sat upon theirhorses, helmet on head, and lance in hand, scanning the road for thereturn of Arthur's embassy. Presently they were aware of many armedmen riding swiftly across the plain, and in their midst three knights, in harness, fleeing for their lives. When the Britons marked thequarry, and were assured of the hunters, they cried out with onevoice, and burst from their ambush. The Romans dared not abide theircoming, but scattered on the plain. The Britons rode hardly upon them, doing them all the mischief they might, for they were passing wroth tosee their comrades handselled so despitefully. Many a Roman had reasonto rue his hunting, for some were seized and made captive, others weresorely wounded, and divers slain. There was a certain rich baron namedPeredur. Amongst the captains of Rome not one was counted his peer. This captain had ten thousand armed men in his bailly, who marched athis bidding. Tidings were carried to Peredur of the snare the Britonshad limed. Peredur moved promptly. He hastened with ten thousandshields to the plain, and by sheer force and numbers bore the Britonsback to the wood, for they were not mighty enough to contend againsthim in the field. The Britons held the wood strongly, and defended itright manfully. Peredur might not take it for all his cunning, andlost there largely of his company. The Britons lured the Romans withinthe covert, and slew them in the glooms. So hot and so perilous wasthe melley, fought between the valley and the wood. 

Arthur took thought to the tarrying of his messengers, and rememberedthat those came not again whom he sent to their aid. The king summonedYder, the son of Nut, to his counsel. He committed to his charge seventhousand horses and riders, and despatched them after the others, bidding him seek until he found. Yder drew to the plain. Gawain andBoso yet strove like champions, and for the rest there was not one butdid what he could. From afar Yder heard the cry and the tumult as thehosts contended together. When the Britons beheld Yder's company, they were refreshed mightily in heart and hope. They assailed theiradversaries so fiercely that they won back the ground which was lost. Yder led his horsemen like a brave knight and a cunning captain. He charged so vigorously with his company, that many a saddle wasemptied, many a good horse taken, and many a rider shocked. Peredursustained the battle stoutly, and wheeling about, returned to thefield. He was a crafty captain, knowing well the hour to charge and towheel, to press hard on the fugitive, or to wait. Many a fair chargedid he lead that day. He who was valiant, found Peredur yet more bold. Whoso was minded to tourney, found Peredur yet more willing to breaka spear. His bailly smote more terribly with the sword than ever theywere stricken, so that three hundred horsemen and over lay dead uponthe field. When the Britons marked the deeds of Peredur they could notbe contained. They broke from their ranks and companies, and ranupon the foe. They were desirous beyond measure to joust with theiradversaries, and to show forth their prowess. Above all things theywere covetous of honour, so that for chivalry they brought the battleto confusion. So only they strove hand to hand with the Romans, theygave no thought to the end. Peredur wished nothing better. He held hisbailly closely together, pushing home and drawing off according toneed. Many a time he charged amongst the Britons, and many a timehe returned, bringing his wounded from their midst. Boso of Oxfordregarded the battle. He saw his dead upon the ground. He marked thecraft with which Peredur--that great captain--sustained the Romans, and knew well that all was lost, save that Peredur were slain. Howmight the courage of a rash and foolish company prevail against thediscipline of the Roman host! Boso called about him the best andbravest of his captains. "Lords, " he said, "give me your counsel. You, in whom Arthur put his trust, have entered on this battle without anycommandment of our lord. If well befalls, all will be well; if ill, he will require his sergeants at our hands. Should we be vile andniddering enough to gain no honour on the field, very surely we shallreceive yet more shame as our portion when we come into his presence. Our one hope is to fight against none, great or small, save only withPeredur. Alive or dead he must be made captive, and delivered intoArthur's power. Until Peredur be taken we shall never draw off inhonour from the stour, but must suffer yet greater loss than before. If then you would make him prisoner, follow after where I will lead, and do that thing which you shall see me do. " The captains, therefore, plighted faith to follow his ensample, and in no wise to depart fromhis command. 

Boso brought together as many horsemen as he might, and ranged themin order of battle. He sent out spies to bring him tidings where thatPeredur should be met, who led the Romans so craftily. The spiesdeparted on their perilous errand, and returning presently, proclaimedthat Peredur rode with the host in that place where the press wasthickest, and the battle drew never to an end, Boso rode with hiscompany straight to the heart of the stour. He hurtled upon theRomans, and looking on Peredur, fought his way to his side. When theirhorses stood together, Boso flung his arms about his adversary, anddragged him amongst the Britons. Then of his will he hurled himselfto the ground, and with him tumbled Sir Peredur. A very marvellousadventure was it to behold Boso fall from his destrier in the hottestof the battle, clasping Peredur closely in his arms. The two championsstrove mightily, but Boso was above, and for nothing would unloose hishold. The bailly of Peredur hastened fiercely to the rescue of theircaptain. Those whose lances were still unbroken charged till thestaves were splintered; when their lances failed them at need, theylaid on with their swords, working havoc amongst the Britons. At anyprice the Romans would rescue their captain, and the Britons werein the same mind to succour Boso in his jeopardy. Never might heartdesire to see battle arrayed more proudly. Never was there a fairerstrife of swords, never a more courteous contention of valiant men. Plume and helmet were abased to the dust, shields were cloven, thehauberk rent asunder, ash staves knapped like reeds, girths werebroken, saddles voided, and strong men thrown, and brave men woundedto the death. The thunder of the shouting filled the field. TheBritons cried as Arthur had taught them, and the Romans answered withthe name of Rome. The one party did all that valiant men were ableto guard their captive in their midst, and the other to pluck theircaptain from amongst them. So confused was the contention, sodisordered the combat, that men as they strove together hardly knewRoman from Briton, friend from foe, save only by the cry they shouted, and by the tongue they spoke in the stour. Gawain flung himself in thepress, hewing a path towards Boso, with mighty strokes of the sword. With point and edge, thrust and cut, he beat down many, and put diversto flight. Not a Roman of them all could prevail against him, nor, sohe might, would strive to hinder him in his road. From another sideof the field Yder set his face to the same end. A woodman was he, clearing a bloody path amongst the trees. Guerin of Chartres aided himlike a loyal comrade, each covering his fellow with the shield. Thethree champions drew before Peredur and Boso, and dragged them totheir feet. They brought a steed to Boso, and gave a sword to hishand. As for Peredur, the crafty captain who had done them so many andsuch great mischiefs, they held him strongly. They carried him fromthe press to their own lines for the greater surety. There they lefthim, bound, under the charge of trusty warders, and straightwayreturned to the battle. Now the Romans had lost their captain. Theywere as a ship upon the waters, without a rudder, that drifts here andthere, having neither aim nor direction, at the bidding of the windsand waves. Such was the plight of the bailly which was spoiled of itscaptain, for an army without a constable is less an army than a flockof sheep. The Britons dealt mercilessly with their beaten foe. Theypressed hardly upon the Romans, smiting down and slaying many. Theymade captives of the fallen, stripping them of wealth and armour, andpursued hotly after the fugitives. These they bound with cords, andcame again in triumph to their companions in the wood, together withtheir prisoners. The Britons carried Peredur, the wise captain, to thecamp, and bestowed him upon Arthur, their lord. They rendered also tohis hand divers other prisoners of less value than he. Arthur thankedthem for their gift. He promised to recompense each for his goodwill, when he returned a victor to his realm. Arthur set his captives fastin prison, whence they could in nowise break out. Afterwards he tookcounsel with his barons to convey the prisoners to Paris, and guardthem close in his castle, until the king's pleasure concerning themwas known. He feared to keep them with the host, lest--watch as hewould--they should escape from his ward. Arthur made ready a strongcompany to bring them to Paris, and set governors over them. He gavePeredur and his fellows into the charge of four earls of high lineage, namely, Cador, Borel, Richier, and Bedevere his butler. These baronsrose very early in the morning, and brought the Romans from theirprison. Like careful warders they put the captives in their midst, andset out on their journey, riding right warily. 

Now Lucius, the emperor, had learned from his spies that the earlspurposed to start at daybreak on their road to Paris. Lucius preparedten thousand riders on horses. He bade them travel the whole nightthrough, outstripping the Britons, and devise such ambush as wouldrescue their comrades from these barons. He committed this company toSertorius, lord of Libya, and Evander, the King of Syria. With theseprinces were Caritius and Catellus Vulteius, patricians of Rome. Eachof these lords was a wealthy man of his lands, and a skilful captainin war. Lucius had chosen them from all their fellows, and laid hischarge straitly upon them, to succour their comrades in their need. These were the lords of the host. The ten thousand horsemen in mailset out at nightfall on their errand. Certain peasants of the landwent with them, to guide them by the surest way. They travelledthroughout the night, sparing not the spur, till they came forth onthe Paris road. There they searched out a likely place where theymight hide them in ambush, and held themselves close and coy untilit was day. Very early in the morning the prickers of the host senttidings that the Britons were near at hand. Arthur's men rode in allsurety, deeming they had nought to fear. They were ordered in twocompanies. Cador and Borel led the first company, and were thevanguard of the host. A little space after came Richier, the earl, andBedevere, the king's cupbearer. These had Peredur and his fellows intheir care. Six hundred horsemen in harness followed at the earls'backs, having the captives in their midst. They had tied their wristsbehind them, and fastened their feet with ropes under the bellies ofthe horses. So they pricked, all unwitting, into the snare the Romanshad spread. When Cador and Borel were in the net, the Romans salliedforth from their hiding. The hard ground trembled beneath the thunderof the destriers' hoofs. They charged home fiercely amongst theiradversaries, but for all their amazement the Britons sustained theshock like men. Bedevere and Richier gave ear to the tumult, and thenoise of the shouting. Their first thought was to the prisoners. Thesethey set in a sure place, giving them to the charge of their squires, and commanding that they should be guarded strictly. Then theyhastened amain to the breaking of spears. The adversaries clashedtogether with all their strength. The Romans drifted here and there, in little clumps of lances, for their mind was less to discomfit theBritons than to release the captives from their bonds. For theirpart the Britons kept their order, and fared boldly among the enemy. Passing heavy were the Romans because of the prisoners they might notfind. Very grievous was the count of their horsemen who perished inthe search. Now the captains divided the Britons by companies intofour strong columns of battle Cador of Cornwall commanded the folk ofhis earldom; Bedevere the Frenchmen of Beauce, Borel had with him thelevies of Le Mans, and to Richier was committed a company drawn fromthe men of his household. King Evander perceived the loss and theperil caused to his host by reason of their divided mind Since thecaptives could not be met with, he checked the hastiness of hismeinie. He drew back his horsemen, and ranged them in order. Then hereturned to the battle. It befell, therefore, that the Romans boreaway the prize, and had the better of their adversaries. They wroughtmuch damage to the Britons, making many prisoners. They slew, moreover, four of the mightiest and most valiant lords of their enemies At thattime perished Yder, a faithful knight, courageous and passing strong. Hirelgas of Peritum died, too, this day, there was no hardier knightthan he. Ahduc of Tintagel also, for whom his kin made wondroussorrow. Besides these was slain Sir Amaury of the Islands, but whetherhe was Welsh or Briton I do not know. Earl Borel of Le Mans, a richlord, and a right honoured and puissant prince amongst his own, didwell and worshipfully. He checked the Romans boldly, slaying of themmore than one hundred men. Evander hastened against him. He thrust hislance head through Borel's throat, so that the point came out at hisneck. Borel fell from his horse, for he was sped. The Britons weredismayed beyond measure. They fled before their adversaries, sincemany were killed, and where one Briton stood, ten Romans opposedthemselves over against him. Doubtless they had been utterlydiscomfited, and the captives wrested from their hand, had not Guitardof Poitiers drawn to their succour. Earl Guitard, that day, was wardenof the marches. He learned from his prickers tidings that a companyof Romans was despatched to rescue the captives. Guitard saddled hisdestrier. He took with him three thousand horsemen, without countingthe spearmen and archers, and rode swiftly in aid. As they drew nearto the battle they heard the shouts of the Romans in praise of theirvictory. Guitard and his company rode into the press with loweredlances and scarlet spurs. A hundred horsemen and more were hurled fromtheir steeds in that shock, never to climb in the saddle again. TheRomans were altogether fearful and esmayed, making complaint of theirpitiful plight. They deemed that Arthur himself had fallen upon themwith all his meinie at his back. Their hearts turned to water, by reasonof the number of their dead. The levies of Poitou closed about them, and the Britons failed not at need Each company strove to outvie itsfellow, contending earnestly for the greater glory. The Romans could dono more. They turned about and fled the field, utterly discomfited andabased. Their one thought was to get to shelter, or else they were alldead men. The Britons pressed hardly on the fugitives, slaying many. In the flight King Evander and Catellus were taken, and of theirfellowship six hundred and more were destroyed. Of these divers wereslain, and others made captive. The Britons took spoil of prisonersaccording to their desire, and retained of these as they might. Thenthey returned by the road, to the place where the combat was won. TheBritons went about the field searching amongst the dead for Borel, thestout Earl of Le Mans. They found him among the fallen, bebled withblood, and gashed with many a grisly wound. Afterwards they carried thehurt to the surgeons, and the dead they laid in their graves. As forPeredur and his companions they committed them afresh to those whomArthur had charged with their keeping, and sent them on their way toParis. The rest of the prisoners they bound straitly, and carrying thembefore Arthur, delivered them to his hand. They rehearsed to the kingthe tale of this adventure, and not a man of them all but pledgedhis word that so the Romans made offer of battle, without doubt theyshould be utterly destroyed. 

The tidings of this heavy discomfiture were brought to the emperorLucius learned of the capture of Evander, and of the others whowere slain. He saw his men had no more spirit in them, and that thebeginning of the war went very ill. Lucius considered the failure ofhis hopes, that in nothing was he conqueror. He was passing heavy, being altogether cast down and dismayed. He thought and thought andfeared. He knew not whether to give Arthur battle without delay, or toawait the coming of the rearward of his host. He doubted sorely thatwhich he should do, for wondrously affrighted was he of this battle, by reason of the losses he had known. Lucius took counsel with hiscaptains, and devised to bring his company to Autun, passing by wayof Langres. He set forth with the host, and moving towards Langres, entered the city when the day was far spent. Now Langres is buildedon the summit of a mount, and the plain lies all about the city. SoLucius and part of his people lodged within the town, and for the restthey sought shelter in the valley. Arthur knew well where the emperorwould draw, and of his aim and purpose. He was persuaded that theRoman would not fight till the last man was with him. He cared neitherto tarry in the city, nor to pacify the realm. Arthur sounded histrumpets, and bade his men to their harness. As speedily as he mighthe marched out from camp. He left Langres on the left hand, and passedbeyond it bearing to the right. He had in mind to outstrip the emperor, and seize the road to Autun. All the night through, without halt orstay, Arthur fared by wood and plain, till he came to the valley ofSoissons. There Arthur armed his host, and made him ready for battle. The highway from Autun to Langres led through this valley, and Arthurwould welcome the Romans immediately they were come. The king put thegear and the camp followers from the host. He set them on a hill nearby, arrayed in such fashion as to seem men-at-arms. He deemed that theRomans would be the more fearful, when they marked this multitude ofspears. Arthur took six thousand six hundred and sixty six men, andranged them by troops in a strong company. This company he hidwithin a wood upon a high place. Mordup, Earl of Gloucester, was theconstable of the meinie. "Your part in the battle, " said Arthur, "isto be still. Let nothing induce you to break from your post shouldevil befall, and the battle roll back to the wood, charge boldly onyour adversaries, that you comrades may find rest if it chance thatthe Romans turn their backs in the battle, then hurtle upon themwithout delay, sparing none in the flight". So these answered, promising to do after his word Arthur straightway ordered anotherlegion. It Was formed of mighty men, chosen from amongst his vassals, with laced helmets, riding on their destriers. This fair company hearrayed in open ground, and it owned no other captain save the king. With this legion rode those of his privy household, whom he hadcherished and nourished at his own table. In their midst was guardedthe royal Dragon, that was the king's own gonfalon. From the restof his host the king made six companies, each company having tencaptains. Half of these companies were horsemen, and the others wenton foot. On each and all Arthur laid prayer and commandment, thatrider and sergeant alike should bear them as men, and contendearnestly against the Romans. Not one of these legions but was numberedof five thousand five hundred and fifty-five horsemen, chosensoldiers, mighty men of valour, and mightily armed for war. Of theeight legions, four companies were set over against their enemy, supported by four behind. Every man was armed and clad according tothe custom of his land. Aguisel of Scotland had the forefront of thefirst legion in his keeping, Cador of Cornwall being charged with therear. Boso and Earl Guerin of Chartres were the constables of anothercompany. The third company, formed of outland folk, and armed indivers manners, was delivered to Echil, King of the Danes, and to Lot, the King of Norway. The fourth had Hoel for constable, and with himGawain, who, certes, was no faintheart. Behind these four legions werearrayed and ordered yet four other companies. Of one, Kay the sewerand Bedevere the cupbearer were the captains. With Kay were the menof Chinon and the Angevins; whilst under Bedevere were the levies ofParis and of Beauce. To Holdin of Flanders and Guitard the Poitivinwere committed another company--right glad were they of their trust. Earls Jugein of Leicester and Jonathan of Dorchester were lords andconstables of the seventh legion. Earl Curfalain of Chester and EarlUrgain of Bath held the eighth legion as their bailly; for thesewere lords by whom Arthur set great store. As for the spearmen, thearchers, and the stout arbalestriers Arthur separated them from thepress. He divided them into two portions--one for either wing of hisarmy. All these were about the king's person, and embattled near hisbody. 

When Arthur had arrayed his legions, and set his battle in order, hearken now that which he spake to his lords, his household, and hisvassals "Lords, " said Arthur, "I take wondrous comfort when Iremember your manhood and virtues, seeing you always so valiant andpraiseworthy. In the past you have accomplished great things, but dayby day your prowess grows to the full, abating the pride of all whoset themselves against you. When I call to mind and consider thatBritain, in our day, is the lady of so many and so far lands by reasonof you and your fellows, I rejoice mightily, mightily I boast thereof, and in my God and you right humbly do I put my trust. God grant thatyou may do more marvellous works than ever you have wrought, and thatyour orb has not yet reached its round. Lords, your valiance andmanhood have conquered these Romans twice already. My heart divinesthe decree of fate that you will overthrow them once again. Threetimes then have we discomfited these Romans. You have smitten down theDanes; you have abated Norway, and vanquished the French. France wehold as our fief in the teeth of the Roman power. Right easily shouldyou deal with the varlet, who have overborne so many and such perilousknights. The Romans desire to make Britain their province, to grow fatwith our tribute, and to bring France once more to their allegianceFor this cause they have ransacked the east, and carried hither thesestrange, outland people, who amaze Christendom, to fight in theirquarrel. Be not fearful of their numbers. Ten christened men are wortha hundred of such paynims. The battle will be less a battle, thana tournament of dames. Have therefore good trust in God, and beconfident of the issue. We shall deal with them lightly, so only weshow a little courage. Well I am assured what each of you will do thisday, and how he will bear him in the melley. For my part I shall bein the four quarters of the field, and with every one of my legions. Where the press is thickest, where the need most dire, my Dragon shallraise his crest"

When the proud words were ended which Arthur rehearsed in the ears ofhis people, the host made answer with one loud voice. Not a man ofthem all, who hearkened to his speech, but replied that he lovedbetter to be stark upon the field, than to know himself vanquished atthe end. The whole host was mightily moved together. They defied thefoe, they promised with oaths to bear them like men, and there werethose who wept. Such tears were not shed by reason of fearfulness. Itwas the weeping of men who were utterly purposed never to fail theirking. 

Now Lucius, the emperor, was born in Spain, of a valiant and noblestock. He was in the most comely flower of his age, having more thanthirty years, but less than forty. He was a proven knight, of highcourage, who had done great deeds already. For such feats of arms theRoman senate had chosen him to be their emperor. Lucius rose early inthe morning, purposing to set forth from Langres to Autun His hostwas now a great way upon the road, when tidings were brought of thestratagem Arthur had practised against him. The emperor knew well thateither he must fight or retreat. Go back he would not, lest any deemedhim fearful. Moreover, should the Britons follow after, their triumphwas assured, for how may soldiers bear them with a stout heart, whoflee already from the field! Lucius called about him his kings, hisprinces, and his dukes. He drew together his wisest counsellors, andthe most crafty captains of his host. To these he spake, and to thebravest of his legions, numbering one hundred thousand men and morebesides. "Hearken, gentle lords, " cried Lucius, "give ear, ye liegemen, fair conquerors, honest sons of worthy sires, who bequeathed youso goodly an inheritance. By reason of your fathers' glorious deeds, Rome became the empery of the world. That she will remain whilst oneonly Roman breathes. Great as is the glory of your fathers who subduedthis empire, so great will be the shame of their sons in whose dayit is destroyed. But a valiant father begets a valiant son. Yourancestors were gentle knights, and you do them no wrong. Not one ofyou but comes of hardy stock, and the sap rises in your blood likewine. Let every man strive valiantly this day to be what his fatherwas in his. Remember the grief that will be his lot who loses hisheritage, and whose cowardice gives to another what he holds of hisfather's courage. But I know, and am persuaded, that you will maintainyour portions. Bold as were the dead, so bold are the living, and Ispeak to knights who are mighty men of valour. Lords, the road is shutwhich would lead us to Autun. We cannot wend our way till we haveforced the gate. I know not what silent thief, or picker, or sturdyknave, has closed the road by which we fared. He deems that I shallflee, and abandon the realm like a dropped pouch. He is wrong. IfI went back it was but to lure him on. Now that he has arrayed hisbattle against you, brace your harness and loosen your swords. If theBriton awaits us, he shall not be disappointed of his hope. Should heflee he shall find us on his track. The time is come to put bit andbridle in the jaws of this perilous beast, and to hinder him fromfurther mischief. "

The Romans hastened to get to their arms, for they were passing eagerto fight. They arrayed and embattled the host, setting the sergeantsin rank and company, and forming the columns in due order. The Romanswere a mingled fellowship. Divers outland kings, and many paynim andSaracens, were mixed with the Christian folk, for all these peopleowned fealty to Rome, and were in the service of the emperor. Bythirties and forties, by fifties, by sixties, by hundreds and bylegions, the captains apparelled the battle. In troops and inthousands the horsemen pricked to their appointed place. Multitudesof spearmen, multitudes of riders, were ranged in close order, andby hill and valley were despatched against Arthur's host. One mightycompany, owning fealty to Rome and employed in the service of theemperor, descended within the valley. Another great company assaultedthe Britons where they lay. Thereat broke forth a loud shrilling ofclarions and sounding of trumpets, whilst the hosts drew together. Asthey approached, the archers shot so deftly, the spearmen launchedtheir darts so briskly, that not a man dared to blink his eye or toshow his face. The arrows flew like hail, and very quickly the melleybecame yet more contentious. There where the battle was set you mightmark the lowered lance, the rent and pierced buckler. The ash stavesknapped with a shriek, and flew in splinters about the field. When thespear was broken they turned to the sword, and plucked the brand fromits sheath. Right marvellous was the melley, and wondrously hideousand grim. Never did men hew more mightily with the glaive. Not a manwho failed at need; not a man of them all who flinched in the press;not one who took thought for his life. The sword smote upon thebuckler as on an anvil. The earth shuddered beneath the weight of thefighting men, and the valley rang and clanged like a smithy with thetumult. Here a host rushed furiously against a legion which met itwith unbroken front. There a great company of horsemen crashed withspears upon a company as valiant as itself. Horse and rider went downbefore the adversary, arrows flew and darts were hurled; lances weresplintered and the sword shattered upon the covering shield. Thestrong prevailed against the weak, and the living brought sorrow tothe dead. Horses ran madly about the field, with voided saddles, broken girths, and streaming mane. The wounded pitied their grievoushurts, choosing death before life; but the prayer of their anguish waslost in the tumult and the cries. Thus for a great while the two hostscontended mightily together, doing marvellous damage, one to theother. Neither Roman nor Briton could gain ground, so that no man knewwho would triumph in the end. Bedevere and Kay considered the battle. They saw that the Romans held themselves closely. They were filledwith anger at the malice of the Romans, and led their company to thatplace where the press was the most perilous. Ah, God, but Arthur hadmen for his seneschal and cupbearer. Knights of a truth were thesewho sat at his table. Kay and Bedevere smote like paladins with theirbrands of steel. Many fair deeds had they done, but none so fair asthey did that day. They divided the forefront of the battle, andcleaving a passage with the sword, opened a road for their fellows. The Britons followed after, taking and rendering many strokes, sothat divers were wounded and many slain. Blood ran in that place likewater, and the dead they lay in heaps. Bedevere adventured deeper intothe melley, giving himself neither pause nor rest. Kay came but astride behind, beating down and laying low, that it was marvellous tosee. The two companions halted for a breathing space, turning themabout to encourage their men. Great was the praise and worship theyhad won, but they were yet desirous of honour. They were over anxiousfor fame, and their courage led them to rashness. In their hope ofdestroying the Romans, they took no heed to their own safety. Theytrusted beyond measure in their strength, and in the strength of theircompany. There was a certain pagan, named Bocus, King of the Medes. He was a rich lord in his land, and captain of a strong legion. Bocushastened his men to the battle, for he was fearful of none, howeverperilous the knight. When the two hosts clashed together thecontention was very courteous, and the melley passing well sustained. Pagan and Saracen were set to prove their manhood against Angevins andthe folk of Beauce. King Bocus took a sword, and discomfited the twopaladins. May his body rot for his pains. He thrust Bedevere throughthe breast, so fiercely that the steel stood out beyond his back. Bedevere fell, for his heart was cloven. His soul went its way. MayJesus take it in His keeping! Kay lighted upon Bedevere lying dead. Since he loved him more than any living man, he was determined thepagans should not triumph over his body. He called around him as manymen as he might, and did such deeds that the Medians fled before him, leaving the Britons on the field. Sertorius, King of Libya, beheldthis adventure, and was passing wroth. He had with him a great companyof pagans whom he had carried from his realm. Sertorius, hot withanger, drew near, and dealt much mischief to his adversaries. Hewounded Kay to the death, and slew the best of his men. Mauled as hewas with many grim strokes, Kay guarded his comrade's body. He set itamidst his men, and carried the burthen from the press, fighting asthey went. With him, also, he bore Arthur's banner, the golden Dragon, let the Romans rage as they would. Now Hiresgas, the nephew ofBedevere, loved his uncle passing well. He sought his kinsfolk andfriends, and gathered to his fellowship some three hundred men. Thiscompany wore helmet and hauberk and brand, and rode fair destriers, fierce and right speedy. Hiresgas ordered his house for the battle. "Come now with me, " said he to his friends, "and crave the priceof blood. " Hiresgas drew near that place where Bocus, King of theMedians, displayed his banner. When Hiresgas beheld his enemy hebecame as a man possessed. He cried the battle cry of Arthur, andtogether with his company charged terribly upon Bocus. He had but oneonly thought, to avenge his uncle's death. Hiresgas and his fellowsburst amongst the Medians with lowered lances and covering shields. They slew many, and flung many others from their saddles. They rodeover the fallen, trampling them beneath the hoofs of the horses, tillthey reached the very cohort of that king who had slain Sir Bedevere. Mounted on strong destriers the bold vassals followed after Hiresgas, wheeling to right or left, as he led, till they pierced to thegonfalon, showing the arms of the king. Hiresgas spied his foe. Heturned his horse, and pushing through the press, drew near, and smoteBocus full on the helm. The baron was a mighty man; the strokewas fierce, and his blade was keen and strong. He struck well andcraftily. The blow sheared through helmet and coif. It divided thehead to the shoulders, so that the soul of King Bocus sped away to theAdversary. Hiresgas stretched out his arm, seizing the body ere itmight fall to the ground. He set his enemy before him on his horse, and held him fast, the limbs hanging on either side. Then he made hisway from the stour, the dead man uttering neither lamentation nor cry. The knight was grim, and his war-horse mighty. His kinsfolk gatheredbehind him, that the Medians should do him no mischief. By the aid ofhis fellows he won out of the battle, and carried his burthen to thevery place where his uncle lay. There, joint by joint, he hackedKing Bocus asunder. When his task was ended, Sir Hiresgas called hiscomrades about him. "Come, " said he, "come, true men's sons, to theslaying of these Romans. Romans! nay, cutpurses, rather, whoresons, paynims who have neither trust in God, nor faith in our true religion. Rome has brought them from the east for the destruction of our livesand our kin. On then, friends, let us wipe out these pagans, thepagans, and such renegade Christians as have joined them to slayChristendom more surely. Forward, to sharpen your manhood upon them. "Hiresgas led his household back to the battle. Tumult and shoutingfilled the plain. Helmet and brand glittered in the sun, but the steeloften was dulled with blood, or was shattered on the shield. The fairduke, Guitard of Poitiers, bore him as a valiant man. He held his ownstoutly against the King of Afric. The two lords contended together, hand to hand, but it was the King of Afric died that day. Guitardpassed across his body, smiting down many Africans and Moors. Holdin, Duke of the Flemings, was a wise prince, circumspect and sober incounsel. He strove with the legion of Aliphatma, a King of Spain. The two princes fought one with the other, in so great anger, thatAliphatma was wounded to the death, and Holdin was in no better case. Ligier, Earl of Boulogne, ran a course with the King of Babylon. Iknow not who was the fairer knight, for both were shocked from theirseats. Dead upon the field lay earl and king alike. With Ligier wereslain three other earls, masters of many carles in their own lands. Urgent, Lord of Bath, Balluc, Earl of Guitsire, and Earl Cursa ofChester, warden of the marches of Wales, perished in a little space, so that their men were sorely grieved. The company which followedafter their pennons flinched in the press. It gave back before theRomans, and fled for shelter to the legion which had Gawain for itscaptain, and with him Hoel, his fair friend and companion. Two suchchampions you would not find, search the whole world through. Neverhad knighthood seen their peers for courtesy and kindliness, as forWisdom and chivalry. 

Now Hoel was captain of the men of Brittany. His fellowship were proudand debonair. They were reckless of danger to such a degree that theyneither cared nor feared to whom they were opposed. As one man theycharged, and as one man they pierced through the foe. The men ofBrittany swept down on the Romans, who were pursuing their comrades, and trampling them under in thousands. They put them speedily to therightabout, and rode over many in their turn. Ah!, for the griding oftheir swords, and, ah!, for the captives who were taken. The companyhurtled on, till they drew to the golden eagle which was the gonfalonof the emperor. Lucius, himself, was very near his pennon, and withhim the flower of his meinie, the gentle men and gallant knights ofRome. Then angels and men witnessed so mortal an encounter, as neverI deem was beheld of any, since time began. Chinmark, Earl of Tigel, rode in Hoel's cohort. He was a great baron, and wrought much mischiefto his adversaries. His day was come, for a Roman, mean of hisstation, and fighting on his feet, flung a javelin at his body, sothat he died. With the earl perished two thousand of the Britons, every man hardier than his fellows. There, too, were slain three otherearls. Jagus, to his loss, had come from Boloan. The second was hightCecormanus, the third, Earl Boclonius. Few indeed of Arthur's baronsmight compare with these lords in valour and worth. Had they been sonsof kings, who were but earls, the story of their gestes would be sungby the minstrels, as I deem, about the world, so marvellous were theirfeats. These three fair lords raged wondrously amongst the Romans. Not one who came to their hands but gasped out his life, whether bylance-thrust or sword. They forced a path to the eagle of the emperor, but the bearers arrayed themselves against them, and cutting them offfrom their companions, slew them amidst their foes. Hoel and Gawain, his cousin, were distraught with anger when they regarded the mischiefdealt them by the Romans. To avenge their comrades, to wreak damageupon their adversaries, they entered amongst them as lions in thefield. They smote down and did much havoc to their adversaries, cleaving a way with many terrible blows of their swords. The Romansdefended their bodies to the death. If strokes they received, strokesthey rendered again. They opposed themselves stoutly to those whowere over against them, and were as heroes contending with champions. Gawain was a passing perilous knight. His force and manhood neverfailed, so that his strength was unabated, and his hand unwearied inbattle. He showed his prowess so grimly that the Romans quailed beforehim. Gawain sought the emperor in every place, because of his desireto prove his valour. He went to and fro, seeking so tirelessly anddiligently, that at the last he found. The captains looked on theother's face. The emperor knew again the knight, and Gawain rememberedLucius. The two hurtled together, but each was so mighty that he fellnot from his horse. Lucius, the emperor, was a good knight, strongand very valiant. He was skilled in all martial exercises and of muchprowess. He rejoiced greatly to adventure himself against Gawain, whose praise was so often in the mouths of men. Should he returnliving from the battle, sweetly could he boast before the ladiesof Rome. The paladins strove with lifted arm and raised buckler. Marvellous blows they dealt with the sword. They pained themselvesgreatly, doing all that craft might devise to bring the combat to anend. Neither of them flinched, nor gave back before the other. Pieceswere hewn from the buckler, and sparks flew from the brands. Theyjoined together, smiting above and thrusting under, two perfectknights, two gentle paladins, so fierce and so terrible, that had theybeen left to themselves very quickly must one have come to a fair end. 

The Roman legions recovered from the panic into which they had fallen. They ranged themselves beneath the golden eagle, and brought succourto the emperor at the moment of his utmost need. The legions sweptthe Britons before them, and won again the field from which theywere driven. Arthur watched the fortunes of the day. He marked thediscomfiture of his host, and hearkened to the triumphant shouts ofthe legionaries. He could not, and dared not, wait longer. Arthurhastened with his chosen company to the battle. He rallied the rout, crying to the fleeing sergeants, "Whom seek you? Turn about, for itwere better to be slain of the Romans than by your king. I am Arthur, your captain, and mortal man shall not drive me from the field. Followme, for I will open a road, and beware lest the maidens of Britainhold you as recreant. Call to mind your ancient courage, by which youhave overcome so many proud kings. For my part I will never go fromthis field alive, till I have avenged me on my adversaries. " Arthurdid wondrously in the eyes of all the people. He struck many a Romanto the ground. Shield, and hauberk, and helmet he hewed asunder, heads, arms, and gauntlets were divided by his sword. Excalibur waxedred that day, for whom Arthur smote he slew. I cannot number the countof his blows, and every blow a death. For as the ravenous lion dealswith his prey, so likewise did the fair king raven amongst hisenemies. Not one he spared, he turned aside from none. That man hewounded required no surgeon for his hurt. All the press gave backbefore so stark a champion, till in his path stood neither great norsmall. The King of Libya--Sertorius to name--was a lord exceedingrich. Arthur struck the head from his shoulders. "In an ill hour youdrew from the east to bear arms in this quarrel, and to furnish drinkfor Excalibur". But the dead man answered never a word. Polybetes, King of Bithyma, fought upon his feet. This was a pagan lord, andpassing rich. Arthur found the paynim before him. He smote but onemarvellous blow, and divided his head to the shoulders. Polybetescrashed to the earth. His soul rushed from his body, and his brainswere spattered about the field. "Roman, speed to your doom, " criedArthur loudly, in the hearing of all. When the Britons beheld Arthur'sdeeds, and hearkened to his high words, they took courage and chargedupon the Romans. The Romans met them boldly with sword and spear, doing them many and great mischiefs. When Arthur saw that the battlewas stayed, he increased in valour, and did yet more dreadfully withExcalibur. He slew and cast down divers, so that the ground wascumbered with the fallen. Lucius, the emperor, for his part, was notbackward in the melley, and avenged himself grievously on the Britons. Emperor and king, for all their seeking, might not come together. This was heavy upon them, for each was a very courteous champion. Thebattle rolled this way and that, since the contention was passingperilous. The Romans did well, nor might the Britons do better. Athousand men came swiftly to their deaths, for the two hosts arrayedthemselves proudly one against the other, and strove right scornfully. Not a judge on earth could declare which host should be vanquished, nor what man of them all would come victor and quick from the tourney. 

Now Mordup, Earl of Gloucester, was constable of the bailly Arthurhad hidden on a high place within a wood. Mordup remembered Arthur'scounsel that should evil befall, and the battle draw back to the wood, he must charge boldly on his adversaries. Mordup rode from his hidingwith a company of six thousand six hundred and sixty-six riders, cladin gleaming helmets and coats of mail, and carrying sharp lances andswords. These drew down the hillside, unnoticed of the Romans, andcoming out on their rear, charged hotly on the legion. The legion wasaltogether discomfited. Its ranks were pierced, its order was broken, with the loss of more than one thousand men. The Britons rode amongstthe Romans, parting each from his fellow, trampling the fallen beneaththe horses' hoofs, and slaying with the sword. The Romans couldendure no longer, for the end of all was come. They broke from theircompanies, and fled fearfully down the broad road, climbing one uponthe other in their haste. There Lucius, the emperor, fell on death, being smitten in the body by a spear. I cannot tell who smote himdown, nor of whose lance he was stricken. He was overtaken in thepress, and amongst the dead he was found slain. Beneath the thickestof the battle he was discovered, dead, and the hurt within his breastwas dealt him by a spear. 

The Romans and their fellows from the east fled before the pursuers, but the Britons following after did them sore mischief. They waxedweary of slaying, so that they trod the Romans underfoot. Blood ran inrunnels, and the slain they lay in heaps. Fair palfreys and destriersran masterless about the field, for the rider was dead, and hadneither joy nor delight in the sun. Arthur rejoiced and made merryover so noble a triumph, which had brought the pride of Rome to thedust. He gave thanks to the King of Glory, who alone had granted himthe victory. Arthur commanded search to be made about the country forthe bodies of the slain, whether they were friend or foe. Many heburied in the self-same place, but for the others he carried them tocertain fair abbeys, and laid them together to rest. As for the bodyof Lucius, the emperor, Arthur bade it to be held in all honour, andtended with every high observance. He sealed it in a bier, and sent itworshipfully to Rome. At the same time he wrote letters to the senatethat no other truage would he pay them for Britain, which he guardedas his realm. If truage they yet required, then truage they shouldreceive coined in the very mint. Kay, who was wounded to death in thebattle, was carried to Chinon, the castle he had builded, and calledafter his own name. There he was interred in a holy hermitage, standing in a little grove, near by the city. Bedevere was brought toBayeux in Normandy, a town of his lordship. He was lain in the groundbeyond the gate, looking over towards the south. Holdin was borne toFlanders, and buried at Tervanna. Ligier was buried at Boulogne. 

Arthur, for his part, sojourned all through the winter in Burgundy, giving peace and assurance to the land. He purposed when summer wascome to pass the mountains, and get him to Rome. He was hindered inhis hope by Mordred, of whose shame and vileness you shall now hear. This Mordred was the king's kin, his sister's very son, and hadBritain in his charge. Arthur had given the whole realm to his care, and committed all to his keeping. Mordred did whatever was good in hisown eyes, and would have seized the land to his use. He took homageand fealty from Arthur's men, demanding of every castle a hostage. Notcontent with this great sin he wrought yet fouler villainy. Againstthe Christian law he took to himself the wife of the king. His uncle'squeen, the dame of his lord, he took as wife, and made of her hisspouse. 

These tidings were carried to Arthur. He was persuaded that Mordredobserved no faith towards him, but had betrayed the queen, stolen hiswife, and done him no fair service. The king gave half his host toHoel, committing Burgundy and France to his hand. He prayed him tokeep the land shut from its foes till he came again in peace. Forhimself he would return to Britain, to bring the kingdom back to itsallegiance, and to avenge himself on Mordred, who had served his wifeand honour so despitefully. Britain, at any cost, must be regained, for if that were lost all the rest would quickly fall a prey. Betterto defer for a season the conquest of Rome, than to be spoiled of hisown realm. In a little while he would come again, and then would goto Rome. With these words Arthur set forth towards Wissant, makingcomplaint of the falseness of Mordred, who had turned him away fromhis conquest; for the warships lay at Wissant ready for sea. 

Mordred learned of Arthur's purpose. He cared not though he came, forpeace was not in his heart. He sent letters to Cheldric of Saxony, praying him to sail to his aid. The Saxon came with seven hundredgalleys, furnished with all manner of store, and laden with fightingmen. Mordred plighted faith that so Cheldric would help him with allhis power, he would grant him the land from beyond Humber to themarches of Scotland, besides all the land in Kent that Hengist held ofVortigern's gift, when the king espoused Rowena. Mordred and Cheldricgathered together a right fair company. Counting Saxon pagans andchristened men there assembled sixty thousand riders on horses, in coats of mail. Mordred numbered his army with a quiet mind. Heconsidered he was so strong as to drive Arthur from any haven. Letcome what might he would never abandon his spoil. For him there was noplace for repentance, yea, so black was his sin that to proffer peacewould be but a jest. Arthur saw to the harness of his men. He got themon the ships, a multitude whom none could number, and set forth toRomney, where he purposed to cast anchor. Arthur and his people hadscarcely issued from the galleys, when Mordred hastened against himwith his own men, and those folk from beyond the sea who had swornto fight in his quarrel. The men in the boats strove to get them toshore; whilst those on the land contended to thrust them deeper inthe water. Arrows flew and spears were flung from one to the other, piercing heart and bowels and breast of those to whom they wereaddressed. The mariners pained themselves mightily to run their boatsaground. They could neither defend themselves, nor climb from theships, so that those were swiftly slain who struggled to land. Oftenthey staggered and fell, crying aloud; and in their rage they tauntedthose as traitors who hindered them from coming on shore. Ere theships could be unladen in that port, Arthur suffered wondrous loss. Many a bold sergeant paid the price with his head. There, too, wasGawain, his nephew, slain, and Arthur made over him marvellous sorrow;for the knight was dearer to his heart than any other man. Aguisel waskilled at Gawain's side; a mighty lord, and very helpful at need. Manyothers also were slain, for whom Arthur, the courteous prince, feltsore dolour. So long as Mordred kept the shipmen from the sand, hewrought them much mischief. But when Arthur's sergeants won forth fromthe boats, and arrayed them in the open country, Mordred's meiniemight not endure against them. Mordred and his men had fared richlyand lain softly overlong. They were sickly with peace. They knew nothow to order the battle, neither to seek shelter nor to wield arms, as these things were known to Arthur's host, which was cradled andnourished in war. Arthur and his own ravened amongst them, smitingand slaying with the sword. They slew them by scores and by hundreds, killing many and taking captive many more. The slaughter was verygrievous, by reason of the greatness of the press. When daylightfailed, and night closed on the field, Arthur ceased from slaughter, and called his war hounds off. Mordred's host continued their flight. They knew not how they went, nor whither; for there was none to leadthem, and none took heed to his neighbour. Each thought of himself, and was his own physician. Mordred fled through the night to London, where he hoped to find succour. He leaned on a reed, for the citizenswould not suffer him to enter in their gates. He turned from the city, and passing the fair water of the Thames, rode to Winchester withoutstay. Mordred sought refuge at Winchester, and tarrying awhile, summoned his friends to his side. He took hostages and sureties fromthe citizens, that peace and faith should be observed between them, and that they would maintain his right. Arthur might find no restby reason of the hatred he bore to Mordred. Great grief was his forAguisel and Gawain, the friends whom he had lost. He sorrowed heavilyabove his nephew, and offered him seemly burial, though in what placeI cannot tell. The chronicles are silent, and meseems there is not aman who knows where Gawain was laid[1], nor the name of him who slewhim with the sword. When Arthur had performed these fitting rites hegave himself over to his wrath, considering only in what way he coulddestroy Mordred. 

[Footnote 1: The grave of Gawain was fabled to be in Pembrokeshire. ]

He followed after the traitor to Winchester, calling from every parthis vassals as he went. Arthur drew near the city, and lodged his hostwithout the walls. Mordred regarded the host which shut him fast. Fight he must, and fight he would, for the army might never rise uptill he was taken. Once Arthur had him in his grip well he knew he wasbut a dead man. Mordred gathered his sergeants together, and bade themget quickly into their armour. He arrayed them in companies, and cameout through the gates to give battle to the pursuers. Immediately heissued from the barriers the host ran to meet him. The contention wasvery grievous, for many were smitten and many overthrown. It provedbut an ill adventure to Mordred, since his men were not able to stayagainst their adversaries. Mordred was persuaded that for him therewas only one hope of safety, for his trespass was beyond forgiveness, and much he feared the king. He assembled privily the folk of hishousehold, his familiar friends, and those who cherished againstArthur the deepest grudge. With these he fled over by-ways toSouthampton, leaving the rest of his people to endure as they could. At the port he sought pilots and mariners. These he persuaded by giftsand fair promises straightway to put out to sea, that he might escapefrom his uncle. With a favourable wind the shipmen carried him toCornwall. Mordred feared exceedingly for his life, and rejoicedgreatly to begone. 

King Arthur besieged Winchester strictly. At the end he took burgessesand castle. To Yvain, son of Urian, a baron beloved of the court, Arthur granted Scotland as a heritage. Yvain paid homage for the gift. Of old Aguisel claimed lordship in the realm, but he was dead, leavingneither son nor dame to come before Yvain. This Yvain was a rightworshipful knight, worthy, and of passing great valour. Very sweetlywas he praised of many. 

That queen, who was Arthur's wife, knew and heard tell of the war thatwas waged by Mordred in England. She learned also that Mordred hadfled from before the king, because he might not endure against him, and durst not abide him in the field. The queen was lodged at York, indoubt and sadness. She called to mind her sin, and remembered that forMordred her name was a hissing. Her lord she had shamed, and set herlove on her husband's sister's son. Moreover, she had wedded Mordredin defiance of right, since she was wife already, and so must sufferreproach in earth and hell. Better were the dead than those who lived, in the eyes of Arthur's queen. Passing heavy was the lady in herthought. The queen fled to Caerleon. There she entered in a conventof nuns, and took the veil. All her life's days were hidden in thisabbey. Never again was this fair lady heard or seen; never again wasshe found or known of men. This she did by reason of her exceedingsorrow for her trespass, and for the sin that she had wrought. 

Mordred held Cornwall in his keeping, but for the rest the realmhad returned to its allegiance. He compassed sea and land to gathersoldiers to his banner. Saxon and Dane, the folk of Ireland andNorway, Saracen and pagan, each and all of them who hated Arthurand loathed his bondage, Mordred entreated to his aid. He promisedeverything they would, and gave what he could, like a man whomnecessity drives hard. Arthur was sick with wrath that he was notavenged of Mordred. He had neither peace nor rest whilst the traitorabode in his land. Arthur learned of Mordred's strength in Cornwall, and this was grievous to him. His spies brought tidings of the snaresthat Mordred spread, and the king waxed heavier thereat. Arthur sentafter his men to the very Humber. He gathered to himself so mightya host that it was as the sand for multitude. With this he soughtMordred where he knew he could be found. He purposed to slay and makean end of the traitor and his perjury alike. Mordred had no desire toshrink from battle. He preferred to stake all on the cast, yea, thoughthe throw meant death--rather than be harried from place to place. The battle was arrayed on the Camel, over against the entrance toCornwall. A bitter hatred had drawn the hosts together, so that theystrove to do each other sore mischief. Their malice was wondrousgreat, and the murder passing grim. I cannot say who had the betterpart. I neither know who lost, nor who gained that day. No man wiststhe name of overthrower or of overthrown. All are alike forgotten, thevictor with him who died. Much people were slain on either side, sothat the field was strewn with the dead, and crimson with the bloodof dying men. There perished the brave and comely youth Arthur hadnourished and gathered from so many and far lands. There also theknights of his Table Round, whose praise was bruited about the wholeworld. There, too, was Mordred slain in the press, together with thegreater part of his folk, and in the selfsame day were destroyed theflower of Arthur's host, the best and hardiest of his men. So thechronicle speaks sooth, Arthur himself was wounded in his body to thedeath. He caused him to be borne to Avalon for the searching of hishurts. He is yet in Avalon, awaited of the Britons; for as they sayand deem he will return from whence he went and live again. MasterWace, the writer of this book, cannot add more to this matter of hisend than was spoken by Merlin the prophet. Merlin said of Arthur--ifI read aright--that his end should be hidden in doubtfulness. The prophet spoke truly. Men have ever doubted, and--as I ampersuaded--will always doubt whether he liveth or is dead. Arthur badethat he should be carried to Avalon in this hope in the year 642 ofthe Incarnation. The sorer sorrow that he was a childless man. ToConstantine, Cador's son, Earl of Cornwall, and his near kin, Arthurcommitted the realm, commanding him to hold it as king until hereturned to his own. The earl took the land to his keeping. He held itas bidden, but nevertheless Arthur came never again.