Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table, Adapted from the Book of Romance
General
Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table, Adapted from the Book of Romance
Arthur, King -- Legends; Arthurian romances -- Adaptations; Folklore -- England; Knights and knighthood -- Folklore
“I cannot tell you that,” answered he. “That is strange,” replied the
King, “but you are the goodliest young man I ever saw,” and, turning to
Sir Kay, the steward, charged him to give the young man to eat and drink
of the best, and to treat him in all ways as if he were a lord’s son.
“There is little need to do that,” answered Sir Kay, “for if he had come
of gentlemen and not of peasants he would have asked of you a horse and
armour. But as the birth of a man is so are his requests. And seeing he
has no name I will give him one, and it shall be Beaumains, or
Fair-hands, and he shall sit in the kitchen and eat broth, and at the
end of a year he shall be as fat as any pig that feeds on acorns.” So
the young man was left in charge of Sir Kay, that scorned and mocked
him.
Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawaine were wroth when they heard what Sir Kay
said, and bade him leave off his mocking, for they believed the youth
would turn out to be a man of great deeds; but Sir Kay paid no heed to
them, and took him down to the great hall, and set him among the boys
and lads, where he ate sadly. After he had finished eating both Sir
Lancelot and Sir Gawaine bade him come to their room, and would have had
him eat and drink there, but he refused, saying he was bound to obey Sir
Kay, into whose charge the King had given him. So he was put into the
kitchen by Sir Kay, and slept nightly with the kitchen boys. This he
bore for a whole year, and was always mild and gentle, and gave hard
words to no one. Only, whenever the Knights played at tourney he would
steal out and watch them. And Sir Lancelot gave him gold to spend, and
clothes to wear, and so did Gawaine. Also, if there were any games held
whereat he might be, none could throw a bar nor cast a stone as far as
he by two good yards.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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