And King Arthur smiled awhile, but then he came out of his reverie, and he said, “But when rule was thrust upon me by God, who had arranged that no one else could withdraw the sword from the stone, I must needs accept it. Yet, though one must never question the decision of Heaven, I have ever believed myself a strange choice for the throne of Britain. Power, Guinevere, hath never been to my taste.”
“But perhaps,” said Guinevere, “that is because you have always had all of it! Those who crave power are neither those who have none, like the churls, nor those who have all, like you, but rather those who have some claim to it but can not get enough.”
“Yea,” said King Arthur, “like Caesar, for whom Europe was not enough, and therefore he came here to our blessed island, which God permitted the Romans to take and hold briefly only so that the Christian religion might be brought to our stout Britons, so that when Rome fell to the barbarians we might be the only bastion in a world of utter savagery.”
But then King Arthur said to the queen, “Enough of this, for this is a matter which is of concern to men and not to women, and now I must go to war.”
And she did therefore believe him to be the most innocent of men though the greatest king of all, and perhaps there was some connection.
And she said to him, “Arthur, I am sorry to have committed an offense against you.”
But the king said, “Nay, Guinevere, not against me, for what I am in myself is nothing, but rather against the crown, which is all. Therefore I can not permit Launcelot to fight at my side, much as I need his sword, indeed much as I love him dearly as my friend, for that love is merely personal.”
“And what of me?” asked Guinevere. “Where shall I go now? And if I ask, Is there a place for me in all the world?, then I wonder whether there has ever been one!”
“What you do now is a matter between you and God,” said King Arthur. “It were truly impertinent for me to think about this.” But then he looked softly upon her, and he said, “I have thought too much in time past. I loved thee greatly, my dear Guinevere, in mine own fashion. And I love thee yet. Never have I pronounced an animadversion upon thee! We must part now, never to meet again in this life. As a man and lately thine husband, I say only, Go with God!” And then he became stern though not unkind, and he said, “As a king my counsel is to cultivate discretion.”
And then he strode from his pavilion and he commanded his knights to assemble and to march on Salisbury Plain, there to meet the host assembled by the vile Mordred.
And Guinevere, alone in the pavilion, did think King Arthur not so innocent after all, and she forgave him as he had forgiven her.
Now last of all to come out of Joyous Garde was Sir Launcelot, and he was alone as well, for now that he had preserved Guinevere from burning they had no more reason to cleave together.
But Sir Gawaine was waiting for him without the gate, and when Launcelot rode out, Gawaine said to him, “Sir, we have an appointment.”
“Dear Gawaine,” said Sir Launcelot, “must we fight? All of it is finished now, for whatever the outcome of King Arthur’s war with Mordred, the Round Table is no longer a perfect circle, if it ever was, for at its finest moment there was one seat unfilled. But methinks there was a moral continuity amongst us, and that such a company of knights could come together in the common cause of virtue for even an instant was unique in the history of the world.”
“Well,” said Sir Gawaine, “the principle was noble and we all of us did uphold it each in his own fashion, and perhaps we did well as we could, being but men.”
“Alas!” said Sir Launcelot, “certes, that is true of thee and the others, but I could not have done worse! And to say that I could not help myself is no excuse before God nor man. I did what I did, and I can not undo it. And now, having caused this great peril to come to King Arthur, I can not even defend him against it.”
“Nay,” said Sir Gawaine, “thou didst not cause it, Launcelot, but thou didst give an opportunity to a vile knight to use for his cause, and that caitiff is my only remaining brother. And though I can finally forgive thee for killing Agravaine, Gaheris, and Gareth in self-defense, I can not pardon thee for assisting Mordred, though unwittingly, in his detestable scheme. Unless I fight thee now, this greatest of all shames to my family will never be expunged.”
“Gawaine,” said Sir Launcelot, “methinks thine ethic is exceeding complex, and that somehow, whatever the situation, it finds me peculiarly at fault.... But perhaps it is only right that thou dost, for now that the queen hath been saved and I am prohibited from joining King Arthur, I have no use in the world but to give thee satisfaction. May God strengthen thine hand!” And saying this he drew apart from Gawaine on the field before Joyous Garde.
And both of them closed their helms and they put their lances in fewter and spurring their horses they charged on each other. Now the wound in his right hand which Mordred had given him stealthily had never properly healed, and therefore Sir Launcelot could not fight so well as of old, and when his lance met Sir Gawaine’s shield it was ripped from his grasp.
But Gawaine’s shaft did break when its point struck Launcelot’s shield, and therefore wheeling their chargers they drew their swords and they came together with flashing blades. And so they fought fiercely for two hours, hacking at each other.
Now when the fight had begun Sir Launcelot did purpose to allow Sir Gawaine eventually to overwhelm him and to kill him, for in no other way could they both be satisfied, Gawaine in his sense of honor and Launcelot because he fain would die. And furthermore Sir Launcelot believed that he was no longer necessarily the better knight. And the reason that he would not let Gawaine vanquish him quickly was that his former friend, who had fought him once long ago, would not fail to notice if he did not use his full strength, and he would believe it a great insult. And Launcelot had offended Gawaine too much already.
But the longer they fought the less Sir Launcelot felt like losing voluntarily, for he already seemed to be losing in fact, and his hand felt as if it had already gone to Hell and was being burned in the fire which did not consume, and he could not change hands without Sir Gawaine’s wondering why, for he had not wounded him in the right arm, and therefore he would believe he was being offensively given an advantage!
And Sir Launcelot, who had never been given to thought (as opposed to religious contemplation) believed that if Gawaine’s morality were complex, it was because chivalry in general was more complicated than it seemed, for it is not easy always to know what is the noble thing, or what is brave and generous or even simply decent. Yet if a knight gave way to his impulses, as he had done once with Guinevere, he might bring down a kingdom by chance more certainly than a caitiff like Mordred could do it by design.
And though other persons might believe that his life had been grand (for he was the greatest knight of all), and all the more so now that he was known as the lover of the greatest queen in all the world and the most beautiful woman, Sir Launcelot thought that it had been largely squalid, with intervals in which it rose to banality. And for the first time he pondered on the differences amongst men, and how though a company of them might hold the same principles, each member might honestly interpret these in another way. (But he did not think about women at all, though he was here fighting one of his best friends only because of one.)
Now at this moment Sir Launcelot was finally wounded in his right arm by a savage blow of Sir Gawaine’s, the which cut through his armor and penetrated his flesh, and he dropped his sword upon the ground.
And when he dismounted to fetch it, Gawaine descended from his own steed and he waited till Launcelot picked up his blade in his left hand, and then they proceeded to fight on foot. And Sir Gawaine seemed to grow ever stronger, while Sir Launcelot weakened owing to his wounds.
And we shall leave them there at this moment, for this fight would go on all the day and it was to be the longest in the history of the world, for Launcelot and Gawaine were living legends, and one of them must die
in this encounter, and with two such men you can be sure that this was not a thing of a minute.
Now King Arthur and his knights had ridden towards Salisbury Plain, but Guinevere still sat in the silk pavilion he had left behind, for he did not expect to rest during the fight with Mordred’s host, and if the truth be known, King Arthur did not expect ever to lie down again except in death, for he had a premonition that this fight would be his last.
But he did not know that Mordred was not on Salisbury Plain with his Germans, but rather had come to spy on Joyous Garde, and when he saw King Arthur march away, and then Sir Launcelot come out to fight Sir Gawaine, he stole into the pavilion where the queen sat defenseless.
And drawing his sword Mordred put the point of it at the white neck of Guinevere, and he said, “Lady, you are mine.”
And looking at him without great interest, Guinevere asked politely, “And who art thou?”
“I am Mordred,” said the same.
“Well, Mordred,” said the queen, “what wouldst do with me, mishandle or murder?”
“Neither, lady,” said Sir Mordred, who was amazed by her calm.
“And is there a third possibility when a lady is captured by a felon?” asked Guinevere. “Or by any man?”
And Mordred perceived that she was rather more clever than he had supposed King Arthur’s queen would be. “Yea,” said he, and he smiled the smile from which even most men did turn away in distaste if not in horror (for his face seemed to be leering from an uncovered grave), but this had no effect on Queen Guinevere, to whom all men were as boys. Then Mordred said, “Lady, know you that I am the new king, your late husband Arthur having fallen dead on the road to Salisbury Plain. You are therefore a widow, and I intend to take you for my queen.”
And Guinevere rose in all her stateliness, and she said, “Sir, thou art a liar, for I am sure that King Arthur is yet alive. Thou art a criminal to come to me in this way, and thou wouldst be an usurper and a traitor. Nevertheless I shall go with thee freely, for two reasons. Firstly, that by thy look thou art a ruthless caitiff who would kill me if I did not do thy will, and I do not wish to die before my time. And the other reason is that if thou dost wish to marry me, thou threatenest me with no worse than I have ever had. Therefore lead on, and I shall follow.”
And for the first time in his life Sir Mordred was confused, for he had expected that taking Guinevere would be a very difficult task, and when they left the pavilion it was Guinevere who led and he who followed.
And Mordred helped her onto her palfrey, and then he asked her whether she had waiting-women to attend her on the journey they must take.
“They are all yet within Joyous Garde,” said she, “and surely they now sit at the windows, watching those two knights yonder, who are trying to kill each other though they be dear friends, for truly most women are foolish as men.” And looking down on him from her palfrey she asked Sir Mordred where he would take her.
Now Mordred with his elaborate schemes had nevertheless given this matter no thought whatever, and his horse was not near by but rather hidden in a thicket half a league away. Therefore he must needs lead Guinevere’s palfrey there while going afoot himself, and so he began his association with her by serving as lackey.
And when he arrived at the thicket he saw that his beast was not there, but had got loose, and was strayed or stolen. And he was constrained to walk on foot all the way to London in his heavy armor, for though Guinevere taking pity on him offered to share her palfrey he could not endure the shame of riding into a city behind a woman, even the queen, and her richly decorated saddle did offer no place for another rider, and therefore he must needs have been perched on the horse’s arse.
Now finally they reached that great town, and there they came unto the Tower of London, the which had been built by Julius Caesar, and in this place all the British kings from Brute to Uther Pendragon had kept their crown jewels, but King Arthur had used them to build hospitals and orphanages and asylums for the insane, and the jewels were not there any more, so that the guards had been removed. And nobody at London noticed their queen being led through the streets by a knight who was weary and limped, for the lords were busy in doing good works and the common folk were laboring happily and whistling like so many birds.
And Mordred did close Guinevere into the Tower of London, but she did not protest at any time. Indeed she spake not at all from the moment when she had told him she would follow, and as for Sir Mordred, neither did he speak to her, for the reason that he could think of nothing to say to this great queen which would not make him seem foolish, and he did dread her scorn.
And having locked her into the Tower he went without and coming upon a fat merchant who rode an horse, he knocked him off it and he got on the animal’s back and he rode towards Salisbury Plain.
Now before the castle of Joyous Garde, Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine had continued to fight all the day and into the evening, and Gawaine had surely gained the advantage as the sun fell through the western sky, and Sir Launcelot’s right arm had lost so much blood that the field was covered with gore and in the wet grass both knights oft slipped.
And Sir Gawaine halted frequently for Sir Launcelot to bind his wounds, but his friend declined this courtesy. But finally when he had opened his visor to reply to Sir Gawaine’s kind suggestion Gawaine saw that his face was dead white from the loss of blood. And therefore he insisted that Launcelot be bandaged, and he called out from the castle the waiting-women of Guinevere, who had been watching the fight from an oriel window.
And these ladies came forth and they tended to him, and one tore some stuff from her petticoat and she made a dressing for Sir Launcelot’s arm.
Now some of these ladies had wagered on him, and others on Sir Gawaine, and all of them loved one or the other of these supreme knights, and many loved them both. And if Sir Gawaine had been the lecher of his youth he would have had a choice of bedfellows. But he was older now, and more sober, and he was happily married. But beyond that, having to fight his great friend he knew no joy, nor did he believe he would ever know it again, whoever survived this fight: for he who won would be the killer of his friend.
And if Sir Gawaine was victorious, he had no brothers left but the vile Mordred, and the Round Table was shattered forever. And perhaps the best thing he could do for his sons was to give them an example by dying nobly. Now this was the first time that Sir Gawaine had ever thought in this fashion, for he had loved his life in all its phases.
Whereas Sir Launcelot, who had always hated life and wanted to die, now that he was bleeding to death he began to think otherwise, for actually dying is not so romantic as is thinking about death when one is invincible, and Launcelot had never been in real danger before in his life. Therefore he began to see himself in a new light, and he came to think that his invincibility might be a myth, and that he had previously overwhelmed his enemies because they were half-conquered by the myth before they met him.
Now the lady who had bandaged Sir Launcelot with her petticoat had placed a sizable wager on him in this fight, and therefore she greatly desired that he should win. And she had seen Sir Mordred take the queen out of the pavilion and lead her away, and she now gave these news to Launcelot, thinking that he would thereby be inspired to win, so that he might go and rescue Guinevere. But with wicked greed she did not speak so loudly that Sir Gawaine could hear, for she knew that that noble knight would end the fight there and then knowing the queen was in peril.
And because of her greed one of those great knights died that day. (But in the years to come God visited a sore punishment on this lady, for a brutal Saxon mishandled her and gave her both an idiot bastard and a disease.)
And she was right in thinking that Sir Launcelot would fight with new vigor, for he realized then that he was invincible when fighting so as to protect Guinevere. Therefore when he again joined battle with Sir Gawaine his left arm had all the strength that his right had formerly possessed, and with one great blow he brought
his sword down upon Gawaine’s helmet so mightily that though the steel was not cut through Sir Gawaine’s head was broken within.
And this great knight fell into the swoon of death. And going to rescue Guinevere, Sir Launcelot wept piteously for his friend. And the waiting-women found some peasants to carry Sir Gawaine home to his castle and his wife the Lady Ragnell and his young sons, and there he lay dying for some days, but never did he become conscious again.
And Sir Gawaine, one of the very greatest knights who ever lived and the finest man of the company of the Round Table (for he had all the virtues and of the vices the most natural), was greatly mourned on earth by all the brave knights and all the beautiful ladies, whilst in Heaven the angels rejoiced to have him amongst them, with his great virile integrity.
BOOK XXI
How Mordred stabbed King Arthur from behind; and how the battle began.
NOW SIR LAUNCELOT WENT to London and there he found the merchant whose horse had been feloniously taken from him by Mordred, and he was told by this merchant that the wicked knight had come out of the Tower. And Sir Launcelot gave this man some gold for to pay for his horse, and then he went to the Tower and he broke the lock on the portal with one wrench of his mighty fist, and he climbed to the top.
And there was Guinevere, who sat by the window and looked across the river Thames, nor did she turn to see who had entered her prison.
And Sir Launcelot said to the back of her golden head, “Well, I have delivered you.”
And though she recognized his voice she continued to look out the window, and she said, “From what?”
“From your captivity,” said Launcelot. “Lady, you are freed.”
And now Guinevere turned and she said, “Thou hast done thy duty, Launcelot. And now?”
“Lady,” said Sir Launcelot, “I am commanded by King Arthur to void the realm. I have been banished from Britain, but the rest of the world is open to me. Perhaps I shall go to the land of mine old friend Tristram, across the sea, which methinks is yet governed by his brother-in-law, the noble Kaherdin. Such a ruler can ever use another sword, for his enemies, if he be virtuous, are ever rife.”