Sir Thomas Malory's Morte Darthur. Sir Thomas Malory

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СКАЧАТЬ arm; the blow cut open a vein, which sorely grieved Gawain. He was so seriously wounded that he almost lost his wits, and his armor was all bloody.

      Then that knight spoke to Gawain, and bade him bind up his wound before he died, “for you are bleeding all over your horse and your bright clothes; all the surgeons of Britain will not be able to staunch your blood, for he who is hurt with this blade shall bleed forever.”

      “By God,” said Sir Gawain, “that troubles me but little. You shall not frighten me with all your great words. You think with your talking to tame my heart, but bad tidings will befall you before you leave here unless you quickly tell me who may staunch my bleeding.”

      “I can do that, and I will, so long as you succor me so that I might be christened and be cleansed of my misdeeds. I ask Jesus’ mercy; I shall become Christian and steadfastly believe in God. For your help you may earn a reward for yourself.”

      “I grant you your request,” said Gawain, “so help me God. I will fulfill your desire; you have greatly deserved it. Tell me the truth—what were you seeking here, all alone, and what lord or legate do you serve?”

      “Sir,” he said, “I am called Priamus, and my father is a prince. He has been rebel to Rome and overridden much of their lands. My father is descended from Alexander, who was overlord of kings, and he is descended also from Hector in a straight line. There are many more of my kindred, such as Judas Maccabee and Duke Joshua. I am heir to Alexander’s lands, Africa, and all the Outer Isles. Yet, I will believe in the Lord in whom you believe, and consider your labor treasure enough. I was so haughty in my heart that I believed no man my equal. I was sent to this war, by consent of my father, with seven score knights; and now I have encountered with one who has given me my fill of fighting. Therefore, sir knight, for your king’s sake, tell me your name.”

      “Sir,” said Sir Gawain, “I am no knight, but have been brought up in the household of noble King Arthur for many years; my task is to care for his armor and his wardrobe, and to care for the clothing that belongs to him, as well as clean the doublets for dukes and earls. At Yuletide he made me a yeoman and gave me good gifts—more than a hundred pounds, along with a horse and rich armor. If I have the benefit of serving my liege lord long, it shall go well for me.”

      “Ah,” said Sir Priamus, “if his knaves are so keen, his knights must be splendid indeed! Now for love of the King of Heaven and for love of your king, whether you are knave or knight, tell me your name.”

      “By God,” said Sir Gawain, “now I will tell you the truth. My name is Sir Gawain. I am well known in his court, allowed into his chambers, and one of the best of the Round Table. I was dubbed a duke by his own hands. Therefore do not begrudge me, good sir, if this good fortune has befallen me. It is the goodness of God that has given me my strength.”

      “Now I am better pleased,” said Sir Priamus, “than if you had given me the province of Persia the rich, for I would rather have been torn apart by four wild horses than that a yeoman should have so defeated me, or else that any other page or servant should have defeated me in the field. But now I warn you, sir knight of the Round Table, the Duke of Lorraine is nearby with his knights, and the doughtiest men of the dauphin’s lands along with many Dutchmen, along with many lords of Lombardy, the defending force of Goddard, and men of Westwall, worshipful kings, and of Soissons and from the southlands Saracens in great number; in their rolls are named sixty thousand strong men of arms. Therefore, unless you hurry from this heath, it will be harm to us both, and we will be so sorely injured that it will be unlikely that we will ever recover. Take heed that the servant does not blow his horn, for if he does you will find yourself hewn to pieces. Here are waiting close by a hundred good knights of my retinue who wait upon me. If you are found by that company, they will ask neither ransom nor gold.”

      Then Sir Gawain rode over the water with the worshipful knight following him, and they rode until they came to his companions who were grazing their horses in a low meadow; many lords there were leaning on their shields, laughing and joking with many loud words.

      As soon as Sir Wishard became aware of Sir Gawain and saw that he was hurt, he went toward him weeping and wringing his hands. Then Sir Gawain told him how he had fought with a mighty man of strength. “Therefore, do not grieve good sir, for though my shield is now shattered and my shoulder injured, this knight Sir Priamus has more serious wounds. But, he says he has a salve that will heal us both. There is new business at hand that is nearer than you think, and by an hour after noon I think it will harm us all.”

      Then Sir Priamus and Sir Gawain both dismounted and let their horses graze in the fair meadow. They allowed their armor and their shields to be removed. Both bled so much that every man there wondered at how they were able to sit in their saddles or stand on the earth.

      “Now fetch me,” said Sir Priamus, “my vial that hangs by the girdle of my servant, for it is full of the power of the four good waters that pass through Paradise, that strong fruit that one day shall feed us all. Put that water on our flesh wherever we are wounded, and we shall be healed within four hours.” Then they had their wounds cleansed with cold white wine and anointed with balm over and over; within an hour’s time, there were no healthier men than they to be found since God had made the world.

      When they were cleansed and whole, the barrels were tapped and they had bread and meat and many rich birds. When they had eaten, Sir Gawain said, “Lordings, to arms!” When they were armed and assembled, called together to council by a clear clarion call, Sir Gawain explained the situation. “Now tell us, Sir Priamus, the purpose of yonder group of knights.”

      “Sirs,” said Sir Priamus, “they have made a vow to rescue me or else to die manfully in the trying. This was the original purpose when I left them—to save me upon pain of their lives.”

      “Now, good men,” said Sir Gawain, “gird up your hearts! If we go away empty-handed it will grieve our king. During this fight, Sir Florence shall stay here and stand firm as a noble knight, for he was chosen and charged with this duty by the king himself in his chamber. Whether he fights or flees—we shall follow after. As for me, I shall never forsake yonder fair folk.”

      “Ah, father!” said Florence, “you speak fair words, but I am just a child compared to tried men-at-arms, and if I do any folly, the fight must be yours. Therefore, do not sacrifice your honor. My wits are simple, and you are our true leader; therefore, do as you think best.”

      “Now fair lords,” said Sir Priamus, “cease your words at once, I warn you. You shall find in yonder woods many perilous knights who exceed your numbers, you who do not have more than seven hundred warriors in this place. By my faith, that is few to fight against so many, for servants and pages will little help us—they will hide in haste, despite their lofty words.”

      “You say well, “ said Sir Gawain, “so help me God! Now fair son,” said Sir Gawain to Sir Florence, “will you take your fellowship of the best proven men, to the number of a hundred knights, and nobly prove yourself by defeating yonder prey?”

      “I assent to do that willingly,” said Florence. Then Sir Florence called to him Sir Floridas with five score knights, and they went forth at a fast trot, driving quickly. Then Sir Florence followed after with seven hundred noble men of arms, and he was intercepted by Sir Ferrante of Spain, who rode a fair steed that had been fostered in Famagosta; the devil was his father.

      C V.11

      He hurried toward Sir Florence and said, “Where are you hurrying, false knight?” This made Sir Florence angry, and he took up his spear and rode toward the company, waiting no longer. Full in the forehead he hit Sir Ferrante, breaking his neck-bone.

      Then Ferrante’s СКАЧАТЬ