Chapter XLIV: Part 44

Then was Sir Bedivere glad, and thither he went; and when he came into the chapel, he saw where lay an hermit groveling on all four, there fast by a tomb was new graven. When the hermit saw Sir Bedivere, he knew him well, for he was but a little before bishop of Canterbury, that Sir Mordred banished. Sir, said Sir Bedivere, what man is there interred that ye pray so fast for? Fair son, said the hermit, I wot not verily, but by deeming. But this night, at midnight, here came a number of ladies, and brought hither a dead corpse, and prayed me to bury him; and here they offered an hundred tapers, and gave me an hundred besants. Alas, said Sir Bedivere, that was my lord king Arthur, that here lieth buried in this chapel! Then Sir Bedivere swooned, and when he awoke he prayed the hermit he might abide with him still there, to live with fasting and prayers. For from hence will I never go, said Sir Bedivere, by my will, but all the days of my life here to pray for my lord Arthur. Ye are welcome to me, said the hermit, for I know you better than ye ween that I do. Ye are the bold Bedivere, and the full noble duke Sir Lucan de butlere was your brother. Then Sir Bedivere told the hermit all as ye have heard tofore. So there bode Sir Bedivere with the hermit, that was tofore bishop of Canterbury, and there Sir Bedivere put upon him poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in fasting and in prayers.

Thus of Arthur I find never more written in books that be authorized, nor more of the certainty of his death heard I never tell, but thus was he led away in a ship wherein were three queens; that one was king Arthur’s sister queen Morgan le Fay; the other was the queen of Northgalis; the third was the queen of the Waste Lands. Also there was Nimue, the chief Lady of the lake, that had wedded Pelleas the good knight; and this lady had done much for king Arthur; for she would never suffer Sir Pelleas to be in no place where he should be in danger of his life, and so he lived to the uttermost of his days with her in great rest. More of the death of king Arthur could I never find, but that ladies brought him to his burials; and such one was buried there, that the hermit bare witness that some time was bishop of Canterbury, but yet the hermit knew not in certain that he was verily the body of king Arthur;—for this tale Sir Bedivere, knight of the Round Table, made it to be written.

CHAP. VII.

_Of the opinion of some men of the death of king Arthur; and how queen
Guenever made her a nun in Almesbury._

Yet some men yet say in many parts of England that king Arthur is not dead, but had by the will of our Lord Jesu in another place. And men say that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross. I will not say it shall be so, but rather I will say, here in this world he changed his life. But many men say that there is written upon his tomb this verse,

=Hic iacet Arthurus Rex quondam Rex que futurus.=

Thus leave I here Sir Bedivere with the hermit, that dwelled that time in a chapel beside Glastonbury, and there was his hermitage. And so they lived in their prayers and fastings and great abstinence. And when queen Guenever understood that king Arthur was slain, and all the noble knights, Sir Mordred and all the remnant, then the queen stole away, and five ladies with her, and so she went to Almesbury, and there she let make herself a nun, and wore white clothes and black, and great penance she took, as ever did sinful lady in this land, and never creature could make her merry, but lived in fasting, prayers, and alms-deeds, that all manner of people marvelled how virtuously she was changed. Now leave we queen Guenever in Almesbury a nun in white clothes and black, and there she was abbess and ruler, as reason would; and turn we from her, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du Lake.

CHAP. VIII.

_How when Sir Launcelot heard of the death of king Arthur, and of Sir
Gawaine, and other matters, he came into England._

And when he heard in his country that Sir Mordred was crowned king in England, and made war against king Arthur his own father, and would let him to land in his own land; also it was told Sir Launcelot how that Sir Mordred had laid siege about the tower of London, because the queen would not wed him; then was Sir Launcelot wroth out of measure, and said to his kinsmen, Alas, that double traitor Sir Mordred, now me repenteth that ever he escaped my hands, for much shame hath he done unto my lord Arthur. For all I feel by the doleful letter that my lord Gawaine sent me, on whose soul Jesu have mercy, that my lord Arthur is right hard bested. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that ever I should live to hear that most noble king, that made me knight, thus to be overset with his subject in his own realm. And this doleful letter that my lord Sir Gawaine hath sent me afore his death, praying me to see his tomb, wit you well his doleful words shall never go from mine heart. For he was a full noble knight as ever was born, and in an unhappy hour was I born, that ever I should have that unhap to slay first Sir Gawaine, Sir Gaheris the good knight, and mine own friend Sir Gareth, that full noble knight. Alas, I may say I am unhappy, said Sir Launcelot, that ever I should do thus unhappily; and, alas, yet might I never have hap to slay that traitor Sir Mordred. Leave your complaints, said Sir Bors, and first revenge you of the death of Sir Gawaine, and it will be well done that ye see Sir Gawaine’s tomb, and secondly that ye revenge my lord Arthur and my lady queen Guenever. I thank you, said Sir Launcelot, for ever ye will my worship. Then they made them ready in all the haste that might be, with ships and galleys with Sir Launcelot and his host, to pass into England. And so he passed over the sea till he came to Dover: and there he landed with seven kings, and the number was hideous to behold. Then Sir Launcelot enquired of men of Dover where was king Arthur become? Then the people told him how that he was slain, and Sir Mordred and an hundred thousand died on a day, and how Sir Mordred gave king Arthur there the first battle at his landing, and there was good Sir Gawaine slain, and on the morn Sir Mordred fought with the king upon Barham Down, and there the king put Sir Mordred to the worse. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, this is the heaviest tidings that ever came to me. Now, fair sirs, said Sir Launcelot, shew me the tomb of Sir Gawaine. And then certain people of the town brought him into the castle of Dover, and showed him the tomb. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled down and wept and prayed heartily for his soul. And that night he made a dole, and all they that would come had as much flesh, fish, wine, and ale, and every man and woman had twelve pence, come who would. Thus with his own hand dealt he his money in a mourning gown; and ever he wept, and prayed them to pray for the soul of Sir Gawaine. And on the morn all the priests and clerks that might be gotten in the country were there, and sung mass of Requiem. And there offered first Sir Launcelot and he offered an hundred pound, and then the seven kings offered forty pound a piece, and also there was a thousand knights, and each of them offered a pound, and the offering dured from morn till night. And Sir Launcelot lay two nights on his tomb in prayers and in weeping. Then on the third day Sir Launcelot called the kings, dukes, earls, barons and knights, and said thus: My fair lords, I thank you all of your coming into this country with me; but we come too late, and that shall repent me while I live, but against death may no man rebel. But sithen it is so, said Sir Launcelot, I will myself ride and seek my lady queen Guenever, for as I hear say, she hath great pain and much disease, and I heard say that she is fled into the west country, therefore ye all that abide me here, and but if I come again within fifteen days, then take your ships, and your fellowship, and depart into your country. For I will do as I say to you.

CHAP. IX.

_How Sir Launcelot departed to seek the queen Guenever, and how he
found her at Almesbury._

Then came Sir Bors de Ganis, and said, My lord Sir Launcelot, what think ye for to do, now to ride in this realm? wit thou well ye shall find few friends. Be as be may, said Sir Launcelot, keep you still here, for I will forth on my journey, and no man nor child shall go with me. So it was no boot to strive, but he departed and rode westerly, and there he sought a seven or eight days, and at the last he came to a nunnery, and then was queen Guenever ware of Sir Launcelot as he walked in the cloister, and when she saw him there she swooned thrice, that all the ladies and gentlewomen had work enough to hold the queen up. So when she might speak, she called ladies and gentlewomen to her, and said, Ye marvel, fair ladies, why I make this fare. Truly, she said, it is for the sight of yonder knight that yonder standeth: wherefore, I pray you all, call him to me. When Sir Launcelot was brought to her, then she said to all the ladies, Through this man and me hath all this war been wrought, and the death of the most noblest knights of the world; for through our love that we have loved together is my most noble lord slain. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, wit thou well I am set in such a plight to get my soul’s health; and yet I trust, through God’s grace, that after my death to have a sight of the blessed face of Christ, and at doomsday to sit on his right side, for as sinful as ever I was are saints in heaven. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, that thou never see me more in the visage; and I command thee on God’s behalf, that thou forsake my company, and to thy kingdom thou turn again and keep well thy realm from war and wrack. For as well as I have loved thee, mine heart will not serve me to see thee; for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, go to thy realm, and there take thee a wife, and live with her with joy and bliss, and I pray thee heartily pray for me to our Lord, that I may amend my mis-living. Now, sweet madam, said Sir Launcelot, would ye that I should return again unto my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you well that shall I never do: for I shall never be so false to you of that I have promised, but the same destiny that ye have taken you to, I will take me unto, for to please Jesu, and ever for you I cast me specially to pray. If thou wilt do so, said the queen, hold thy promise; but I may never believe but that thou wilt turn to the world again. Well, madam, said he, ye say as pleaseth you, yet wist you me never false of my promise, and God defend but I should forsake the world as ye have done. For in the quest of the Sancgreal I had forsaken the vanities of the world, had not your lord been. And if I had done so at that time with my heart, will, and thought, I had passed all the knights that were in the Sancgreal, except Sir Galahad my son. And therefore, lady, sithen ye have taken you to perfection, I must needs take me to perfection of right. For I take record of God, in you I have had mine earthly joy. And if I had found you now so disposed, I had cast me to have had you into mine own realm.

CHAP. X.

_How Sir Launcelot came to the hermitage where the archbishop of
Canterbury was, and how he took the habit on him._

But sithen I find you thus disposed, I insure you faithfully I will ever take me to penance, and pray while my life lasteth, if that I may find any hermit either grey or white that will receive me. Wherefore, madam, I pray you kiss me, and never no more. Nay, said the queen, that shall I never do, but abstain you from such works. And they departed. But there was never so hard an hearted man, but he would have wept to see the dolour that they made. For there was lamentation as they had been stung with spears, and many times they swooned. And the ladies bare the queen to her chamber, and Sir Launcelot awoke, and went and took his horse, and rode all that day and all that night in a forest, weeping. And at the last he was ware of an hermitage and a chapel stood betwixt two cliffs, and then he heard a little bell ring to mass, and thither he rode and alight, and tied his horse to the gate, and heard mass. And he that sang mass was the bishop of Canterbury. Both the bishop and Sir Bedivere knew Sir Launcelot, and they spake together after mass. But when Sir Bedivere had told his tale all whole, Sir Launcelot’s heart almost brast for sorrow, and Sir Launcelot threw his arms abroad, and said, Alas, who may trust this world! And then he kneeled down on his knees, and prayed the Bishop to shrive him and assoil him. And then he besought the bishop that he might be his brother. Then the bishop said, I will gladly: and there he put an habit upon Sir Launcelot, and there he served God day and night with prayers and fastings.

Thus the great host abode at Dover. And then Sir Lionel took fifteen lords with him, and rode to London to seek Sir Launcelot. And there Sir Lionel was slain and many of his lords. Then Sir Bors de Ganis made the great host for to go home again. And Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, with more other of Sir Launcelot’s kin, look on them to ride all England overthwart and endlong, to seek Sir Launcelot. So Sir Bors by fortune rode so long till he came to the same chapel where Sir Launcelot was. And so Sir Bors heard a little bell knell that rang to mass, and there he alight, and heard mass. And when mass was done, the bishop, Sir Launcelot, and Sir Bedivere came to Sir Bors. And when Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot in that manner clothing, then he prayed the bishop that he might be in the same suit. And so there was an habit put upon him, and there he lived in prayers and fasting. And within half a year there was come Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Williars, Sir Clarrus, and Sir Gahalantine. So all these seven noble knights there abode still. And when they saw Sir Launcelot had taken him unto such perfection, they had no list to depart, but took such an habit as he had. Thus they endured in great penance six year, and then Sir Launcelot took the habit of priesthood, and a twelvemonth he sang mass. And there was none of these other knights but they read in books, and holp to sing mass, and rang bells, and did bodily all manner of service. And so their horses went where they would, for they took no regard of no worldly riches. For when they saw Sir Launcelot endure such penance, in prayers and fasting, they took no force what pain they endured, for to see the noblest knight of the world take such abstinence, that he waxed full lean. And thus upon a night there came a vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged him, in remission of his sins, to haste him unto Almesbury,—And by then thou come there, thou shalt find queen Guenever dead: and therefore take thy fellows with thee, and purvey them of an horse bier, and fetch thou the corpse of her, and bury her by her husband the noble king Arthur. So this vision came to Launcelot thrice in one night.

CHAP. XI.

_How Sir Launcelot went with his seven fellows to Almesbury, and found
there queen Guenever dead, whom they brought to Glastonbury._

Then Sir Launcelot rose up or day, and told the hermit. It were well done, said the hermit, that ye made you ready, and that ye disobey not the vision. Then Sir Launcelot took his seven fellows with him, and on foot they went from Glastonbury to Almesbury, the which is little more than thirty miles. And thither they came within two days, for they were weak and feeble to go. And when Sir Launcelot was come to Almesbury, within the nunnery, queen Guenever died but half an hour before. And the ladies told Sir Launcelot that queen Guenever told them all, or she passed, that Sir Launcelot had been priest near a twelvemonth,—And hither he cometh as fast as he may to fetch my corpse: and beside my lord king Arthur he shall bury me. Wherefore the queen said in hearing of them all, I beseech Almighty God that I may never have power to see Sir Launcelot with my worldly eyes. And thus, said all the ladies, was ever her prayer these two days, till she was dead. Then Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed. And so he did all the observance of the service himself, both the Dirige, and on the morn he sang mass. And there was ordained an horse bier; and so with an hundred torches ever burning about the corpse of the queen, and ever Sir Launcelot with his eight fellows went about the horse bier singing and reading many an holy orison, and frankincense upon the corpse incensed. Thus Sir Launcelot and his eight fellows went on foot from Almesbury unto Glastonbury; and when they were come to the chapel and the hermitage, there she had a Dirige with great devotion. And on the morn the hermit, that sometime was bishop of Canterbury, sang the mass of Requiem with great devotion: and Sir Launcelot was the first that offered, and then all his eight fellows. And then she was wrapped in cered cloth of Raines, from the top to the toe in thirty fold, and after she was put in a web of lead, and then in a coffin of marble. And when she was put in the earth, Sir Launcelot swooned, and lay long still, while the hermit came out and awaked him, and said, Ye be to blame, for ye displease God with such manner of sorrow making. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, I trust I do not displease God, for He knoweth mine intent, for my sorrow was not, nor is not, for any rejoicing of sin, but my sorrow may never have end. For when I remember of her beauty, and of her noblesse, that was both with her king and with her; so when I saw his corpse and her corpse so lie together, truly mine heart would not serve to sustain my careful body. Also when I remember me, how by my default, mine orgule, and my pride, that they were both laid full low, that were peerless that ever was living of Christian people, wit you well, said Sir Launcelot, this remembered, of their kindness and mine unkindness, sank so to my heart, that I might not sustain myself. So the French book maketh mention.

CHAP. XII.

_How Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose body was
borne to Joyous Gard for to be buried._

Then Sir Launcelot never after eat but little meat, nor drank, till he was dead; for then he sickened more and more, and dried and dwined away; for the bishop nor none of his fellows might not make him to eat, and little he drank, that he was waxen by a cubit shorter than he was, that the people could not know him; for evermore day and night he prayed, but sometime he slumbered a broken sleep, and ever he was lying groveling on the tomb of king Arthur and queen Guenever. And there was no comfort that the bishop, nor Sir Bors, nor none of his fellows could make him, it availed not. So within six weeks after, Sir Launcelot fell sick, and lay in his bed; and then he sent for the bishop that there was hermit, and all his true fellows. Then Sir Launcelot said with dreary voice, Sir bishop, I pray you give to me all my rights that longeth to a Christian man. It shall not need you, said the hermit and all his fellows, it is but heaviness of your blood: ye shall be well amended by the grace of God to-morn. My fair lords, said Sir Launcelot, wit you well, my careful body will into the earth. I have warning more then now I will say, therefore give me my rights. So when he was houseled and eneled, and had all that a Christian man ought to have, he prayed the bishop that his fellows might bear his body to Joyous Gard. Some men say it was Anwick, and some men say it was Bamborow. Howbeit, said Sir Launcelot, me repenteth sore, but I made mine avow sometime that in Joyous Gard I would be buried, and because of breaking of mine avow, I pray you all lead me thither. Then there was weeping and wringing of hands among his fellows. So at a season of the night they went all to their beds, for they all lay in one chamber. And so after midnight, against day, the bishop that was hermit, as he lay in his bed asleep, he fell upon a great laughter: and therewith all the fellowship awoke, and came unto the bishop, and asked him what he ailed. Alas, said the bishop, why did ye awake me, I was never in all my life so merry and so well at ease. Wherefore? said Sir Bors. Truly, said the bishop, here was Sir Launcelot with me, with more angels than ever I saw men upon one day; and I saw the angels heave Sir Launcelot unto heaven, and the gates of heaven opened against him. It is but the vexing of dreams, said Sir Bors, for I doubt not Sir Launcelot aileth nothing but good. It may well be, said the bishop, go ye to his bed, and then shall ye prove the sooth. So when Sir Bors and his fellows came to his bed they found him stark dead, and he lay as he had smiled, and the sweetest savour about him that ever they felt. Then was there weeping and wringing of hands, and the greatest dole they made that ever made men. And on the morn the bishop did his mass of Requiem; and after the bishop and all the nine knights put Sir Launcelot in the same horse bier that queen Guenever was laid in tofore that she was buried: and so the bishop and they altogether went with the corpse of Sir Launcelot daily, till they came to Joyous Gard, and ever they had an hundred torches burning about him; and so within fifteen days they came to Joyous Gard. And there they laid his corpse in the body of the quire, and sang and read many psalters and prayers over him and about him; and ever his visage was laid open and naked, that all folk might behold him; for such was the custom in those days, that all men of worship should so lie with open visage till that they were buried. And right thus as they were at their service, there came Sir Ector de Maris, that had seven year sought all England, Scotland, and Wales, seeking his brother Sir Launcelot.

CHAP. XIII.

_How Sir Ector found Sir Launcelot his brother dead. And how
Constantine reigned next after Arthur, and of the end of this book._

And when Sir Ector heard such noise and light in the quire of Joyous Gard, he alight and put his horse from him, and came into the quire, and there he saw men sing and weep. And all they knew Sir Ector, but he knew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and told him how there lay his brother Sir Launcelot dead. And then Sir Ector threw his shield, sword, and helm from him; and when he beheld Sir Launcelot’s visage he fell down in a swoon. And when he awaked it were hard any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his brother. Ah, Launcelot, he said, thou were head of all Christian knights; and now I dare say, said Sir Ector, thou Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly knight’s hand; and thou were the courtiest knight that ever bare shield; and thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman; and thou were the kindest man that ever strake with sword; and thou were the goodliest person ever came among press of knights; and thou was the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies; and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest.

Then there was weeping and dolour out of measure. Thus they kept Sir Launcelot’s corpse on loft fifteen days, and then they buried it with great devotion. And then at leisure they went all with the bishop of Canterbury to his hermitage, and there they were together more than a month. Then Sir Constantine, that was Sir Cador’s son, of Cornwall, was chosen king of England; and he was a full noble knight, and worshipfully he ruled this realm. And then this king Constantine sent for the bishop of Canterbury, for he heard say where he was; and so he was restored unto his bishopric, and left that hermitage; and Sir Bedivere was there ever still hermit to his life’s end. Then Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Gahalantine, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Williars le Valiant, Sir Clarrus of Cleremont; all these knights drew them to their countries. Howbeit king Constantine would have had them with him, but they would not abide in this realm; and there they lived in their countries as holy men. And some English books make mention that they went never out of England after the death of Sir Launcelot, but that was but favour of makers. For the French book maketh mention, and is authorised, that Sir Bors, Sir Ector, Sir Blamor, and Sir Bleoberis, went into the holy land, there as Jesu Christ was quick and dead, and anon as they had stablished their lands; for the book saith so Sir Launcelot commanded them for to do, or ever he passed out of this world. And these four knights did many battles upon the miscreants or Turks. And there they died upon a Good Friday, for God’s sake.

Here is the end of the whole book of king Arthur, and of his noble knights of the Round Table, that when they were whole together there was ever an hundred and forty. And here is the end of the Death of Arthur. I pray you all gentlemen and gentlewomen that read this book of Arthur and his knights from the beginning to the ending, pray for me while I am on live that God send me good deliverance, and when I am dead, I pray you all pray for my soul; for this book was ended the ninth year of the reign of king Edward the Fourth by Sir Thomas Maleore, knight, as Jesu help him for his great might, as he is the servant of Jesu both day and night.

¶ Thus endeth thys noble and Ioyous book entytled le morte Darthur / Notwithstondyng it treateth of the byrth / lyf / and actes of the sayd kynge Arthur / of his noble knyghtes of the rounde table / theyr meruayllous enquestes and aduentures / thachyeuyng of the sangreal / & in thende the dolourous deth & departyng out of thys world of them al / Whiche book was reduced in to englysshe by syr Thomas Malory knyght as afore is sayd / and by me deuyded in to xxi bookes chapytred and enprynted / and fynysshed in thabbey westmestre the last day of Iuyl the yere of our lord M/CCCC/lxxx/V/

¶ Caxton me fieri fecit.

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NOTE A.

_See Introduction, page xxxii. note 1_.

‘Oh ye mighty and pompous lords, shining in the glory transitory of this unstable life, as in reigning over realms great, and mighty countries, fortified with strong castles and towers, edified with many a rich city. Ye also, ye fierce and mighty chivalers, so valiant in adventurous deeds of arms, behold, behold, see how this mighty conqueror Arthur, whom in his human life all the world doubted—ye also, the noble queen Guenever, that sometime sat in her chair adorned with gold, pearls, and precious stones, now lie full low in obscure foss or pit covered with clods of earth and clay. Behold also this mighty champion Launcelot, peerless of knighthood, see now how he lieth groveling on the cold mould, now being so feeble and faint that sometime was so terrible, how and in what manner ought ye to be so desirous of the mundane honour so dangerous. Therefore me thinketh this present book called La Morte Darthur is right necessary often to be read, for in it shall ye find the gracious, knightly, and virtuous war of most noble knights of the world, whereby they gat praising continual. Also me seemeth by the oft reading thereof ye shall greatly desire to accustom yourself in following of those gracious knightly deeds, that is to say, to dread God, and to love rightwiseness, faithfully and courageously to serve your sovereign prince. And the more that God hath given you the triumphal honour the meeker ye ought to be, ever fearing the unstableness of this deceivable world. And so I pass over, and turn again to my matter.’

NOTE B.

_See Introduction, page xxxiv. note 3._

For those who may care to see more of the manner in which the text of the interpolated passages has been formed, I give the following specimens in detail.

The first is from the beginning of the 11th Chapter of Book XXI.

CAXTON.

‘Than syr Launcelot rose vp or day/& tolde the heremyte/It were wel
done sayd the heremyte that ye made you redy/& that ye dyshobeye
not the auysyon/Than syr Launcelot toke his vii felowes with hym/&
on fote they yede from glastynburye to almysburye the whyche is
lytel more than xxx myle/& thyder they came within two dayes for
they were wayke and feble to goo/& whan syr Launcelot was come to
almysburye within the Nunerye quene gweneuer deyed but halfe an
oure afore/and the ladyes tolde syr Launcelot that quene Gueneuer
tolde hem al or she passyd/that syr Launcelot had been preest nere
a twelue monthe/& hyder he cometh as faste as he may to fetch my
cors/& besyde my lord kyng Arthur he shal berye me/’

WYNKYN DE WORDE, 1498.

‘Thenne syre Launcelot rose vp or day. And tolde the heremyte. It
were well doon sayd the heremyte/that ye made ye redy/and that ye
dysobeye not the aduysyon. Thenē syr Launcelot toke his .vij.
felowes w^t hym/& on fote they yede from Glastynbury to Almesbury.
the whyche is lytyl more than .xxx. myle. And thyder they came
wythin two dayes for they were weyke & feble to go. And whan syr
Launcelot was come to Almesbury wythin the Nunnery/quene Gweneuer
deyed but halfe an houre afore/And the ladyes tolde syr
Launcelot/that quene Gweneuer tolde them all or she passyd/that syr
Launcelot had be preest nere a twelue month and hither he cometh as
fast as he may/to fetche my corps. And besyde my lorde kyng
Arthur/he shal bury me.’

UPCOTT.

‘Than syr Launcelot rose vp or it was day, and tolde the heremyte
therof. It were well done sayd the heremyte that ye made you redy,
and that ye dysobeye not thys aduysyon. The[=n]e syr Launcelot toke
his .vii felawes with hym, & on foote they yede from Glastynbury to
Almesbury, the whyche is lytyl more than xxx myle. And thyder they
came wythin two dayes for they were weyke and feble to go. And whan
syr Launcelot was come to Almesbury wythin the Nonnery, quene
Gweneuer deyed but halfe an houre afore. And the ladyes tolde syre
Launcelot that quene Gueneuer tolde them all or she passyd, that
syr Launcelot had been preest nere a twelue moneth, and hither he
cometh as faste as he may for to fetche my corps. And besyde my
lorde kynge Arthur he shal burye me.’

The last lines of the same Chapter are as follows:—

CAXTON.

‘For whan I remembre of hir beaulte and of hir noblesse that was
bothe with hyr king & with hyr/So whan I sawe his corps and hir
corps so lye togyders/truly myn herte wold not serue to susteyne my
careful body/Also whan I remēbre me how by my defaut & myn orgule
and my pryde/that they were bothe layed ful lowe that were pereles
that euer was lyuyng of cristen people, wyt you wel sayd syr
Launcelot/this remembred of there kyndnes and myn vnkyndnes sanke
so to myn herte that I miȝt not susteyne myself so the frensshe
book maketh mencyon.’

UPCOTT.

(Who follows Wynkyn de Worde exactly, except in the spelling, and in the insertion of ‘me’ after ‘wold not serue.’)

‘For whan I remembre _& calle to mynde_ her beaute, _bountee &_
noblesse, that was _as wel_ wyth her kyng _my lord Arthur_ as wyth
her. _And also_ whanne I saw _the corses of that noble kinge &
noble quene_ so lye to gyder _in that colde graue made of erthe,
that somtyme were so hyghly sette in moost honourable places_,
truly myn herte wolde not serue _me_ to susteyne my _wretchyd &_
carefull body. Also whan I remembre me how by my defawte myn
orgulyte and my pride, that they were both layed full lowe whyche
were pereles that euer were lyuenge of crysten peple, wyte yow wel
sayd syr Launcelot, this remembred, of ther kyndnesse & _of_ myn
vnkyndnesse, sanke _and enprest_ soo _in_ to my herte that _all my
natural strengthe fayled me, so that_ I myghte not susteyne my
selfe. Soo the frensshe boke makyth mencyon.’

The several colophons are as follows:—

CAXTON.

‘Thus endeth thys noble and Ioyous book entytled le morte
Darthur/Notwithstondyng it treateth of the byrth/lyf/and actes of
the sayd kynge Arthur/of his noble knyghtes of the rounde
table/theyr meruayllous enquestes and aduentures/thachyeuyng of the
sangreal/& in thende the dolourous deth & departyng out of thys
world of them al/Whiche book was reduced in to englysshe by syr
Thomas Malory knyght as afore is sayd/and by me deuyded in to xxi
bookes chapytred and enprynted/and fynysshed in thabbey westmestre
the last day of Iuyl the yere of our lord M/CCCC/lxxx/V/ Caxton me
fieri fecit.’/

WYNKYN DE WORDE, 1498.

‘Thus endyth this noble and Ioyous boke entytled Le morte dathur.
Notwythstondyng it treateth of the byrth lyf & actes of the sayd
kynge Arthur of his noble knyghtes of the rounde table. theyr
merueyllous enquestes & aduentures. thachyeuynge of the Sancgreall.
And in the ende the dolorous deth. & depaytynge out of this worlde
of them al. Whyche boke was reduced in to Englysshe by the well
dysposyd knyghte afore namyd. And deuyde[d] into .xxi. bokes
chapitred. & enprynt[ed] fyrst by Wylliam Caxton/on who[se] soule
god haue mercy. And newel[ye] prynted. and chapitres of the sam[e
ru-]brisshed at Westmestre, by Wynk[yn de] Worde y^e yere of our
lord. M.C[CCC].lxxxxviij. and ended the .xxv [daye of] Marche. the
same yere.’

AMES.

‘Thus endeth this noble and joyous boke, entytled La morte
d’Arthur. Notwithstondyng it treateth of the byrth, lyf, and actes
of the sayd Kynge Arthur, of his noble knyghts of the rounde table,
theyr merueylous enquestes and aduentures, thacheuynge of the
Sancgreal and in the ende the dolourous deth and depaytynge out of
this worlde of them al; whyche boke was reduced into Englysshe by
syr Thomas Malory, Knight, as afore is sayd, and by me devyded into
xxi. bookes, chapitred and enprynted, and fynisshed in thabbey,
Westmestre, the last day of Juyl, the yere of our Lord MCCCCLXXXV.
Caxton me fieri fecit.’

HARLEIAN CATALOGUE.

‘The Byrth, Lyf, and Actes of Kyng Arthur; of his noble Knyghtes of
the Rounde Table, theyr marvayllous Enquestes and Adventures; the
Achyeviyng of the Sang real; and in the end le Morte d’Arthur, with
the dolourous Deth and Departyng out of thys world of them Al.
Whiche Book was reduced to the Englysshe, by Syr Thomas Malory
Knyght, and by me (_W. Caxton_) devyded into 21 bookes, chaptyred
and emprynted, and fynyshed in th’ Abbey Westmestre, the last day
of July, the yere of our Lord 1485.’

UPCOTT.

‘Thus endeth this noble & joyous booke entytled _La_ Mort _dathur_.
Notwythstanding it treateth of the byrth, lyf & actes of the sayd
Kynge Arthur, _&_ of his noble knyghtes of the Rounde Table, theyr
marueyllous Enquestes & aduentures, thacheyuyng of the _Sang real_,
and in the ende _le Morte darthur with_ the dolourous deth and
departyng out of thys worlde of them al. Whiche booke was reduced
in to Englysshe by Syr Thomas Malory knyght _as afore is sayd_, and
by me deuyded in to xxi bookes chaptyred and emprynted and
fynysshed in thabbey Westmestre the last day of July the yere of
our lord MCCCCLXXXV. _Caxton me fieri fecit._’

On a comparison of these colophons we see that the article _La_ is only in Ames: the spelling of _dathur_ is peculiar to Wynkyn de Worde, who has it also in another passage; the words _le Morte darthur with_ are in the Harleian Catalogue only: _as afore is said_ is in neither of these, but it is in Ames: the peculiar mode of writing _Sang real_[47], and the spelling of _chaptyred_, _emprynted_, _July_, are those of the Harleian Catalogue: the _&_ introduced after _Arthur_ in the second line is only in Upcott. _Caxton me fieri fecit_ is in Ames, but not in the Harleian Catalogue.

When I say in Ames or the Harleian Catalogue only, it will be understood that I include with the colophon of the former its modernised copy in Dibdin; and with that of the latter its copies in Herbert and the Biographia Britannica; the references to all which I have given in the passage of the Introduction to which this is a Note. The first words of the colophon are omitted in the Harleian Catalogue, which gives it as the title of the book, as do the Biographia Britannica and Herbert. The framer of the Catalogue probably quotes directly, though inaccurately, from the Harleian (now the Osterley) Morte Darthur: and Ames must have made his extract independently from the same volume. Dibdin attributes both the Harleian Catalogue and the article in the Biographia Britannica to Oldys.

-----

Footnote 1:

‘A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court.’

First part of _Henry VI._ iii. 2.

Footnote 2:

_Le Morte Darthur_, edited from the Harleian MS. 2252, in the British
Museum, by F. T. Furnivall, 1864.

Footnote 3:

The council of devils seems to have suggested that in _Paradise Lost_.

Footnote 4:

Geoffrey of Monmouth afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph wrote, or as he
tells us, translated from a work in the British tongue his _Historiae
Brithonum_ early in the 12th century.

Footnote 5:

Itinerary, ii. pp. 38, 39; Hearne, 1711.

Footnote 6:

Somersetshire Illustrated, by John Strachey, MS. 1736.

Footnote 7:

Polyolbion, 3rd Song.

Footnote 8:

Camelot: a Lecture delivered in 1889 by the Rev. J. H. Bennett. See
also Proceedings of the Somersetshire Archæological Society, 1890.

Footnote 9:

_Gervasii Tilburiensis Otia Imperialia_, Decisio ii. cap. xii, de
Insulis Mediterranei, in vol. I of ‘Scriptores Rerum Brunsvicensium
Illustrationi inservientes: Cura G. G. Leibnitzii, Hanov. MDCCVII.’
Gervase of Tilbury wrote about the beginning of the thirteenth
century. He was at the Peace of Venice in 1177 A. D.; was Chancellor
and Marshall of the kingdom of Arles about the year 1200; and died in
1235.

Footnote 10:

‘Renaissance in Italy,’ by J. A. Symonds, iv. 17.

Footnote 11:

The passage, which also recounts the names of Ewaine, Gawaine, and
Launcelot du Lac, is found in a charming episode in ‘The Complaynt of
Scotland’ (written in 1548, and edited in 1801 by G. J. Leyden), in
which the author tells how he went into the country to refresh his
weary mind and body, and there fell in with a party of shepherds and
shepherds’ wives and servants, who amused themselves with telling a
number of stories, classical and romantic, of which he gives the
names. It is a prose idyll, which reminds us of the Canterbury Tales,
and the Vision of Piers Plowman, in the love of nature and the love
of story-telling which it displays. Here, and in the passage from
Gervase, I quote from the originals; but my attention was first
directed to these by Sir George Webb Dasent’s quotations in his
‘Popular Tales from the Norse,’ p. xxix.

Footnote 12:

Roquefort, Glossaire de Langue Romane, art. ‘Graal:’ where are also
given the original passages from the first three romances named in
the text.

Footnote 13:

_Caffari Annales Genuenses_ in Muratori’s _Italicarum Rerum
Scriptores_, Tom. VI: Bent’s _Genoa_; and Dunlop’s _History of
Fiction_, edited by H. Wilson, Vol. I, Supplementary Note on the
Sangreal.

Footnote 14:

‘Pall Mall Gazette’ of June 23, 1868.

Footnote 15:

‘The Schoolmaster,’ by Roger Ascham; Book I. The Schoolmaster was
published by his widow, in 1570.

Footnote 16:

‘Oh, may my lot grant such a friend who knows
The art to crown with bays a poet’s brows,
If ever in the coming time my lay
Our native kings shall call again to-day,
Shall call up Arthur, even in worlds below
Preparing wars against the heathen foe;
Or tell of that great fellowship renown’d
The high-souled heroes of the Table Round,
And break, if God his present aid affords,
The Saxons’ serried bands with British swords.’

It is curious to note that Milton with all his learning should, like
Malory and Caxton, have spoken of the Britons as English, and the
Saxons as foreigners—a popular misuse of names which still makes the
Lowland Scotch complain if they are called English instead of
British, though they are in fact more English than the English in
language and in blood.

Footnote 17:

‘There be 2 Lordshipps lyenge not very far from _Ripon_ ... _Malory_
hath _Hutton Coniers_. Thes Lands cam to their Aunciters by two
Dowghtars, Heirs generall of that _Coniers_. _Malory_ hath another
place caullyd _Highe Studly_, a litle from Fountaines.’ Leland’s
Itinerary, viii. 2. p. 55. Hearne, 1712.

Footnote 18:

These two dates are obligingly given me by G. W. Tomlinson, Esq.,
Secretary of the Yorkshire Archæological Society.

Footnote 19:

Noble’s Spanish Armada List, 1886, p. 42.

Footnote 20:

Brown’s Genesis of the United States, 1890. Vol. I, p. 211; Vol. II,
p. 940.

Footnote 21:

Burton’s Description of Leicestershire, pp. 140, 262.

Footnote 22:

Kirby’s Register of the Wardens, Fellows, and Scholars of Winchester,
1888, quoted by Mr. L. Johnson in the Academy, September 20th, 1890.

Footnote 23:

Le Morte Darthur, edited by H. Oskar Sommer, Ph.D. Vol. III, p. 335.

Footnote 24:

‘The Biography and Typography of William Caxton, England’s First
Printer,’ by William Blades, 8vo, 1877, p. 22. In this, and in his
larger work, ‘Life and Typography of William Caxton, England’s First
Printer,’ 2 vols. 4to, 1861-1863, Mr. Blades has given a very learned
and complete history of Caxton and his times so far as they relate to
him.

Footnote 25:

‘like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
Till by broad spreading it do reach the bank.’

See First part of King Henry VI, i. 2, and the Variorum notes thereon.

Footnote 26:

Englishmen, who feel shame and sorrow for the loss of the only
perfect first copy of our National Epic, may yet be glad to know it
has an honoured place with our worthier kinsfolk across the Atlantic,
in the rich library and museum of Mr. and Mrs. Abby Pope:

‘And, so sepulchred, in such pomp doth lie,
That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.’

Footnote 27:

Dibdin’s Typographical Antiquities, 1810, vol. i, pp. 242, 254.

Footnote 28:

Dibdin’s Supplement to the Bibliotheca Spenceriana, vol. ii. p. 213;
or Ædes Althorpianæ, vol. vi. p. 213. I would here express my thanks
to Earl Spencer for sending to the British Museum for my use his
Caxton, and his unique copy of Wynkyn de Worde’s first edition of
Morte Darthur, as also for favouring me with details of information
respecting the former; and to the Earl of Jersey for permitting me to
examine his Caxton at Osterley.

Footnote 29:

‘Caxton followed the usage of the scribes in this particular; for,
with one exception only, and at the very end of his career, where the
title of the book is printed alone in the centre of the first page,
his books appear without any title page whatever. Wynkyn de Worde
adopted the use of title-pages immediately after the death of his
master.’ Biography and Typography of William Caxton, England’s first
printer, p. 45. By William Blades, 1877.

Footnote 30:

As the passage is worth preserving I have given it at the end of the
volume, Note A, p. 488.

Footnote 31:

Vol. i, p. xxviii.

Footnote 32:

Ibid. p. lviii.

Footnote 33:

The pages are vol. i, p. 167, line 18, to p. 169, line 17; p. 275,
third line from bottom, to p. 279, line 5 from bottom; vol. ii, p.
202, line 13, to p. 204, line 14; p. 446, line 5, to end of 455.

Footnote 34:

An account of these interpolations was given by me in the Athenæum of
Sept. 7 and Dec. 10, 1867, and Feb. 10, 1868.

Footnote 35:

Typographical Antiquities, by Ames and Herbert, 1785, vol. i, p. 61;
Ibid. enlarged by Dibdin, 1810, vol. i, p. 253. The ‘Additions’ are
at the end of vol. iii. of Herbert’s edition.

Footnote 36:

Catalogus Bibl. Harleianæ, 1744, vol. iii, no. 372.

Footnote 37:

See note B at the end of the volume, p. 488.

Footnote 38:

Even the learned M.M. Gaston Paris and Ulrich, say, in reference to
editions of Le Morte Darthur, ‘La plus commode à lire, parce que le
langage y est discrètement rajeuni, est l’édition donnée chez
Macmillan en 1868 par Sir Edw. Strachey.’

Footnote 39:

Sybel’s History of the Crusades, English Translation, p. 11.

Footnote 40:

For this distinction I am indebted to my friend the late Rev. F. D.
Maurice, whose genius lights up every subject it approaches.

Footnote 41:

Valiant.

Footnote 42:

Having gone to find adventures in Prussia with the Teutonic knights
who carried on war with the still Pagan Lithuania, he had been often
placed at the head of the table above the like adventurers from other
nations, in compliment to his especial merit.

Footnote 43:

Ridden in arms.

Footnote 44:

Praise.

Footnote 45:

It appears from Morte Arthur, p. 474, that London was the proper
place to go to, ‘to buy all manner of things that longed unto a
wedding.’

Footnote 46:

For facts my principal authorities—whose words I have frequently
availed myself of—are Mills’s History of Chivalry, which alone
almost exhausts the subject; Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire; Godwin’s Life of Chaucer; Scott’s Essay on Chivalry; Lord
Berner’s Froissart; and Southey’s Introduction to Amadis of Gaul.

Footnote 47:

The division of the word indicates that the writer adopts the
plausible notion that Sangreal means Real (or Royal) Blood; and no
doubt in ancient as well as modern times the spelling and sound would
suggest this meaning: but Roquefort shows clearly that the other is
the proper explanation, both in etymology and (so to speak)
historically. And Helinand, a monk of Fromont (A.D. 717), gives the
Latin _Gradale_, which supplies the link between _Graal_ and _Crater_
from which Roquefort derives the former. Helinand’s words are,—‘Hoc
tempore, in Britannia, cuidam eremitae monstrata est mirabilis
quaedam visio per angelum de sancto Josepho decurione nobili qui
corpus Domini deposuit de cruce, et de catino illo vel paropside in
quo Dominus coenavit cum discipulis suis; de qua ab eodem eremita
descripta est historia quae dicitur _de Gradal_. _Gradalis_ autem vel
_Gradale_ dicitur Gallicè scutella lata et aliquantulum profunda in
qua pretiosae dapes, cum suo jure, divitibus solent apponi, et
dicitur nomine _Graal_.... Hanc historiam latine scriptam invenire
non potui, sed tantum Gallicè scripta habetur a quibusdam proceribus,
nec facile ut aiunt tota inveniri potest.’ Helinandi Historia, quoted
in L’Essai Historique et Literaire sur l’Abbaye de Fécamp par Leroux
de Lincy, Rouen, 1840.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

GLOSSARY AND INDEX.

The following Index includes a Glossary of words now obsolete, or used with new meanings. Those proper names which in the text are spelt in more than one way, or have different epithets, are repeated in each of such forms, but without cross references. These have not been thought necessary, as their absence can hardly lead to mistake as to the identity of the names.

Abbey of La Beale Adventure, 77.

Abblasoure, place of, 359.

Abel, 395, 396.

Abelleus, 71.

Ablamor of the Marsh, 68.

Accolon of Gaul, Sir, 57;
hunts with Arthur, 79;
finds himself by a deep well, 80;
gets Excalibur and nearly kills Arthur, 82;
dies, 84;
86.

Adam, 395.

Adder stings and produces a war, 478.

Adtherp, Sir, 186, 187.

Affrike, 100.

Africa, 108.

Agente, earldom of, 469.

Aglavale, Sir, 259.

Aglovale, Sir, 152, 281, 333, 362, 448;
is slain, 459.

Agravaine, Sir, 42, 56, 139, 150, 152;
marries, 160;
169, 248, 250, 261, 279, 290;
is open mouthed, 412;
421, 431, 434, 438, 448, 450;
accuses Sir Launcelot and Guenever, 451;
tries to capture Sir Launcelot and is slain, 454.

Aguarus, 373.

Agwisance of Ireland, king, 35, 36, 152, 154.

Alakuke, lord, 104.

Albans, St., 28.

Alexander, 108.

Alexandria, 108.

Alice La Beale Pilgrim, 273.

Aliduke, Sir, 118, 413, 421.

Aligement, alleviation, 390.

Alis le Beale Pilgrim, dame, 455.

Alisander le Orphelin, 268, 270, 273, 422, 448.

Alisander the mighty conqueror, 467.

Alisandrie, country of, 100.

Allardin of the Isles, 67.

Allegiance, alleviation, 43.

Allein, 246.

Allhallowmas, 29, 33.

Almain, 100, 106, 107.

Almerie, cupboard, 411.

Almesbury, 481, 484. See Introduction, p. xviii.

Alphegus, Sir, 446.

Alther, of us all, 84.

Amant, 245, 251.

Ambage, country of, 100.

Ambler, 263.

And, if, 142.

Andred, Sir, 188, 190, 213, 264, 449.

Andret, Sir, 174.

Andrew, Sir, 232.

Anglides (prince Boudwin’s wife), 267.

Anguish of Ireland, king, 164, 168, 171, 177, 179, 181, 184, 419, 434.

Anguish of Scotland, king, 99.

Anguissance of Ireland, king, 448.

Aniause, king, 382, 383, 387.

Anjou, duke of, 469.

Annecians, 40.

Annowre (a sorceress), 209.

Ansirus, duke (the pilgrim), 273.

Antemes, 41.

Anwick, 486.

Arabe, mount of, 103.

Arabie, 100.

Arbray, castle of, 283.

Archade, 277.

Archbishop of Canterbury, 28, 30.

Aretted, reckoned, 1.

Arguis, Sir, 264.

Argustus, 377.

Aries (the cowherd), 65.

Aries le Vaysher, 248.

Aristance, Sir, 282.

Aristause, earl, 448.

Arminak, earl of, 469.

Arnold de Breusse, 139, 149.

Arnold, Sir, 152.

Arrage, country of, 100.

Arrok de Grevant, Sir, 449.

Arrouse, earl, 277.

Arroy, country and forest of, 89.