Historic Tales: The Romance of Reality. Vol. 13 (of 15), King Arthur (1)Malory, Thomas, Sir
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Historic Tales: The Romance of Reality. Vol. 13 (of 15), King Arthur (1)
Malory, Thomas, Sir
Arthurian romances; Malory, Thomas, Sir, active 15th century. Morte d'Arthur -- Adaptations
After his departure from the castle of Sir Meliot, Lancelot rode through
many strange regions, over marshes and highlands, through valleys and
forests, and at length found himself in front of a handsome castle. This
he passed, and as he did so thought he heard two bells ring.
Then he saw a falcon fly over his head towards a high elm, with long
cords hanging from her feet, and as she perched in the elm these became
coiled round a bough, so that when she tried to fly again the lines held
her and she hung downward by the legs.
Then there came a lady running from the castle, who cried, as she
approached,--
"Oh, Lancelot, Lancelot, as thou art the flower of knights, help me to
get my hawk, lest my lord destroy me! The hawk escaped me, and if my
husband finds it gone, he is so hasty that I fear he will kill me."
"What is his name?" asked Lancelot.
"His name is Phelot. He is a knight of the king of Northgalis."
"Well, fair lady, since you know my name so well, and ask me on my
knighthood to help you, I will try to get your hawk. But I am a poor
climber, and the tree is high, with few boughs to help me."
"I trust you may," she replied, "for my life depends on your success."
Then Lancelot alighted and tied his horse to the tree, and begged the
lady to help him remove his armor. When he was fully unarmed he climbed
with much difficulty into the tree, and at length succeeded in reaching
the hawk. He now tied the lines to a rotten branch and threw it and the
bird down to the lady.
But as she picked it up with a show of joy, there suddenly came from a
grove an armed knight, who rode rapidly up, with his drawn sword in his
hand.
"Now, Lancelot du Lake," he cried, "I have you as I wanted you. Your day
has come."
And he stood by the trunk of the tree, ready to slay him when he should
descend.
"What treason is this?" demanded Lancelot. "False woman, why have you
led me into this?"
"She did as I bade her," said Phelot. "I hate you, Lancelot, and have
laid this trap for you. You have fought your last fight, my bold
champion, for you come out of that tree but to your death."
"That would be a shameful deed," cried Lancelot, "for you, an armed
knight, to slay a defenceless man through treachery."
"Help yourself the best you can," said Phelot; "you get no grace from
me."
"You will be shamed all your life by so base an act," cried Lancelot.
"If you will do no more, at least hang my sword upon a bough where I may
get it, and then you may do your best to slay me."
"No, no," said Phelot. "I know you too well for that. You get no weapon
if I can hinder you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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