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
In his dream it seemed that the King had ridden away to the quest, and
had left his squire behind him, which filled the young man with fear.
And in his dream he set the saddle and bridle on his horse, and fastened
his spurs, and girt on his sword, and galloped out of the castle after
the King. He rode on a long space, till he entered a thick forest, and
there before him lay traces of the King’s horse, and he followed till
the marks of the hoofs ceased suddenly at some open ground and he
thought that the King had alighted there. On the right stood a chapel,
and about it was a graveyard, and in the graveyard many coffins, and in
his dream it seemed as if the King had entered the chapel, so the young
man entered also. But no man did he behold save a Knight that lay dead
upon a bier in the midst of the chapel, covered with a pall of rich
silk, and four tapers in golden candlesticks were burning round him. The
squire marvelled to see the body lying there so lonely, with no one near
it, and likewise that the King was nowhere to be seen. Then he took out
one of the tall tapers, and hid the candlestick under his cloak, and
rode away until he should find the King.
On his journey through the forest he was stopped by a man black and
ill-favoured, holding a large knife in his hand.
“Ho! you that stand there, have you seen King Arthur?” asked the squire.
“No, but I have met you, and I am glad thereof, for you have under your
cloak one of the candlesticks of gold that was placed in honour of the
Knight who lies dead in the chapel. Give it to me, and I will carry it
back; and if you do not this of your own will, I will make you.”
“By my faith!” cried the squire, “I will never yield it to you! Rather,
will I carry it off and make a present of it to King Arthur.”
“You will pay for it dearly,” answered the man, “if you yield it not up
forthwith.”
To this the squire did not make answer, but dashed forward, thinking to
pass him by; but the man thrust at him with his knife, and it entered
his body up to the hilt. And when the squire dreamed this, he cried,
“Help! help! for I am a dead man!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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