Chapter 168
The wolf was exceeding furious, and ten times he leaped to catch _Reynard_ fast, but his skin was so slippery and oily he could not hold him. Nay, so wondrous nimble was he in the fight, that when the wolf thought to have him surest, he would s.h.i.+ft himself between his legs and under his belly, and every time gave the wolf a bite with his teeth, or a slap on the face with his tail, that the poor wolf found nothing but despair in the conflict, albeit his strength was much the greater.
Thus many wounds and bitings pa.s.sing on either side, the one expressing cunning, and the other strength; the one fury, the other temperance. In the end the wolf being enraged that the battle had continued so long, for had his feet been sound it had been much shorter, he said to himself, "I will make an end of this combat, for I know my very weight is able to crush him to pieces; and I lose much of my reputation, to suffer him thus long to contend against me."
And this said, he struck the fox again so sore a blow on the head with his foot, that he fell down to the ground, and ere he could recover himself and arise, he caught him in his feet and threw him under him, lying upon him in such wise, as if he would have pressed him to death.
Now began the fox to be grievously afraid, and all his friends also, and all _Isegrim's_ friends began to shout for joy; but the fox defended himself as well as he could with his claws, lying along, and the wolf could not hurt him with his claws, his feet were so sore; only with his teeth he s.n.a.t.c.hed at him to bite him, which, when the fox saw, he smote the wolf on the head with his fore-claws, so that he tore the skin between his brows and his ears, and one of his eyes hung out of his head, which put the wolf to infinite torment, and he howled out extremely. Then _Isegrim_ wiping his face, the fox took advantage thereof, and with his struggling got upon his feet.
At which the wolf was angry, and striking after him, caught the fox in his arms, and held him fast; never was _Reynard_ in so great a strait as then, for at that time great was their contention; but anger now made the wolf forget his smart, and gripping the fox altogether under him, as _Reynard_ was defending himself his hand lighted into _Isegrim's_ mouth, so that he was in danger of losing it. Then said the wolf to the fox, "Now either yield thyself as vanquished, or else certainly I will kill thee; neither thy dust, thy mocks, nor any subtle invention shall now save thee; thou art now left utterly desperate, and my wounds must have their satisfaction."
When the fox heard this he thought it was a hard election, for both brought his ruin; and suddenly concluding, he said, "Dear uncle, since fortune commands me, I yield to be your servant, and at your commandments will travel for you to the Holy Land, or any other pilgrimage, or do any service which shall be beneficial to your soul or the souls of your forefathers. I will do for the King or for our holy father the Pope, I will hold of you my lands and revenues, and as I, so shall all the rest of my kindred; so that you shall be a lord of many lords, and none shall dare to move against you.
"Besides, whatsoever I get of pullets, geese, partridges, or clover, flesh or fish, you, your wife, and children shall have the first choice, ere any are eaten by me. I will ever stand by your side, and wheresoever you go, no danger shall come near you; you are strong, and I am subtle; we two joined together, what force can prevail against us? Again, we are so near in blood that nature forbids there should be any enmity between us; I would not have fought against you had I been sure of victory, but that you first appealed me, and then you know of necessity I must do my uttermost. I have also in this battle been courteous to you, and not shown my worst violence, as I would on a stranger, for I know it is the duty of a nephew to spare his uncle; and this you might well perceive by my running from you. I tell you, it was an action much contrary to my nature, for I might often have hurt you when I refused, nor are you worse for me by anything more than the blemish of your eye, for which I am sorry, and wished it had not happened; yet thereby know that you shall reap rather benefit than loss thereby, for when other beasts in their sleep shut two windows, you shall shut but one.
"As for my wife, children, and lineage, they shall fall down at your feet before you in any presence; therefore, I humbly desire you, that you will suffer poor _Reynard_ to live. I know you will kill me, but what will that avail you, when you shall never live in safety for fear of revengement of my kindred? Therefore, temperance in any man's wrath is excellent, whereas rashness is ever the mother of repentance. But, uncle, I know you to be valiant, wise, and discreet, and you rather seek honor, peace, and good fame than blood and revenge."
_Isegrim_ the wolf said, "Infinite dissembler, how fain wouldst thou be freed of my servitude? Too well I understand thee, and know that if thou wert safe on thy feet thou wouldst forswear this submission; but know all the wealth in the world shall not buy out thy ransom, for thee and thy friends I esteem them not, nor believe anything thou hast uttered. Too well I know thee, and am no bird for thy lime bush; chaff cannot deceive me. Oh, how wouldst thou triumph if I should believe thee, and say I wanted wit to understand thee; but thou shalt know I can look both on this side and beyond thee. Thy many deceits used upon me have now armed me against thee. Thou sayest thou hast spared me in the battle; but look upon me, and my wounds will show how falsely thou liest; thou never gavest me a time to breathe in, nor will I now give thee a minute to repent in."
Now whilst _Isegrim_ was thus talking, the fox bethought himself how he might best get free, and thrusting his other hand down he caught the wolf fast by the neck, and he wrung him so extremely hard thereby,
At this, all _Isegrim's_ friends were full of sorrow, and with great weeping and lamentation went to the King and prayed him to be pleased to appease the combat and take it into his own hands; which suit the King granted, and then the leopard and the loss, being marshals, entered the lists and told the fox and the wolf that the King would speak with them, and that the battle should there end, for he would take it into his own hands and determine thereof; as for themselves they had done sufficiently, neither would the King lose either of them. And to the fox they said the whole field gave him the victory.
The greatest and most inspiring cycle of medieval romances is that concerned with the adventures of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Developing largely as separate stories, these romances were brought together into an organic collection by Sir Thomas Malory in the third quarter of the fifteenth century.
This work, called _Le Morte D'Arthur_, has remained the standard Arthuriad and is the source of most modern versions. It is one of the great monuments of English prose, and, while at first the strangeness of its style may repel, the wonderful dignity of the story and the sonorous quality of the language make a strong appeal to children as well as to older readers. Teachers should at least be acquainted with a portion of Malory, and the three selections following are taken from his text.
No. 404 is added as a suggestion as to how this material may be worked up to tell to children.
401
According to a tradition in _Le Morte D'Arthur_, Uther Pendragon, the father of Arthur, was a powerful king in England. To fulfill a promise made to Merlin, Uther Pendragon allowed Merlin to take Arthur on the day of his birth, that the child might not be known as the son of the king. Merlin took the child to Sir Ector, and the wife of Sir Ector reared Arthur as one of her own children. The following story is an account of how Arthur learned of his parentage.
HOW ARTHUR BECAME KING
SIR THOMAS MALORY
After the death of Uther Pendragon, stood the realm in great jeopardy long while, for every lord that was mighty of men made him strong, and many weened to have been king. Then Merlin went to the Archbishop of Canterbury and counselled him to send for all the lords of the realm and all the gentlemen of arms, that they should to London come by Christmas.
So the Archbishop, by the advice of Merlin, sent for all the lords and gentlemen of arms that they should come by Christmas even unto London.
So in the greatest church of London, whether it were Paul's or not the French book maketh no mention, all the estates were long or day in the church for to pray. And when matins and the first ma.s.s were done, there was seen in the churchyard, against the high altar, a great stone four square, like unto a marble stone, and in midst thereof was like an anvil of steel a foot on high, and therein stuck a fair sword, and letters there were written in gold about the sword that said thus:
"Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England."
Then the people marveled and told it to the Archbishop. "I command,"
said the Archbishop, "that you keep you within your church, and pray unto G.o.d still; that no man touch the sword till the high ma.s.s be all done."
So when all ma.s.ses were done, all the lords went to behold the stone and the sword. And when they saw the scripture, some a.s.sayed; such as would have been king. But none might stir the sword nor move it. "He is not here," said the Archbishop, "that shall achieve the sword, but doubt not G.o.d will make him known. But this is my counsel," said the Archbishop, "that we provide ten knights, men of good fame, and they to keep this sword."
So it was ordained, and there was made a cry, that every man should essay that would, for to win the sword. And upon New Year's Day the barons let make a jousts and a tournament, that all knights that would joust or tourney there might play, and all this was ordained for to keep the lords and the commons together, for the Archbishop trusted that G.o.d would make him known that should win the sword. So upon New Year's Day, when the service was done, the barons rode unto the field, some to joust and some to tourney, and so it happened that Sir Ector rode unto the jousts, and with him rode Sir Kay his son, and young Arthur that was his nourished brother; and Sir Kay had been made knight at All Hallowma.s.s afore.
So as they rode to the joustsward, Sir Kay had lost his sword, for he had left it at his father's lodging, and so he prayed young Arthur for to ride for his sword. "I will well," said Arthur, and rode fast after the sword, and when he came home, the lady and all were out to see the jousting. Then was Arthur wroth, and said to himself, "I will ride to the churchyard and take the sword with me that sticketh in the stone, for my brother Sir Kay shall not be without a sword this day." So when he came to the churchyard, Sir Arthur alit and tied his horse to the stile, and so he went to the tent and found no knights there, for they were at jousting; and so he handled the sword by the handles, and lightly and fiercely pulled it out of the stone, and took his horse and rode his way until he came to his brother Sir Kay, and delivered him the sword.
As soon as Sir Kay saw the sword, he wist well it was the sword of the stone, and so he rode to his father, Sir Ector, and said, "Sir, lo here is the sword of the stone, wherefore I must be king of this land."
When Sir Ector beheld the sword, he returned again and came to the church, and there they alit, all three, and went into the church. And anon he made Sir Kay to swear upon a book how he came to that sword.
"Sir," said Sir Kay, "by my brother Arthur, for he brought it to me."
"How gat ye this sword?" said Sir Ector to Arthur.
"Sir, I will tell you. When I came home for my brother's sword, I found n.o.body at home to deliver me his sword, and so I thought my brother Sir Kay should not be swordless, and so I came hither eagerly and pulled it out of the stone without any pain."
"Found ye any knights about this sword?" said Sir Ector.
"Nay," said Arthur.
"Now," said Sir Ector to Arthur, "I understand ye must be king of this land."
"Wherefore I," said Arthur, "and for what cause?"
"Sir," said Ector, "for G.o.d will have it so, for there should never man have drawn out this sword, but he that shall be rightways king of this land. Now let me see whether ye can put the sword there as it was and pull it out again."
"That is no mastery," said Arthur, and so he put it in the stone; therewithal Sir Ector essayed to pull out the sword and failed.
"Now essay," said Sir Ector unto Sir Kay. And anon he pulled at the sword with all his might, but it would not be.
"Now shall ye essay," said Ector to Arthur.
"I will well," said Arthur, and pulled it out easily. And therewithal Sir Ector knelt down to the earth, and Sir Kay. "Alas," said Arthur, "my own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to me?"
"Nay, nay, my lord Arthur, it is not so. I was never your father nor of your blood, but I wot well ye are of an higher blood than I weened ye were." And then Sir Ector told him all, how he had taken him for to nourish him, and by whose commandment, and by Merlin's deliverance. Then Arthur made great doole when he understood that Sir Ector was not his father.
"Sir," said Ector unto Arthur, "will ye be my good and gracious lord when ye are king?"
"Else were I to blame," said Arthur, "for ye are the man in the world that I am most beholden to, and my good lady and mother your wife, that as well as her own hath fostered me and kept. And if ever it be G.o.d's will that I be king as ye say, G.o.d forbid that I should fail you."
"Sir," said Sir Ector, "I will ask no more of you but that ye will make my son, your foster brother, Sir Kay, seneschal of all your lands."
"That shall be done," said Arthur, "and more, by the faith of my body, that never man shall have that office but he, while he and I live."
Therewithal they went unto the Archbishop and told him how the sword was achieved, and by whom; and on the Twelfth-day all the barons came thither, and to essay to take the sword, who that would essay. But there afore them all, there might none take it out but Arthur; wherefore there were many lords wroth, and said it was great shame unto them all and the realm to be over-governed with a boy of no high blood born, and so they fell out at that time that it was put off until Candlemas, and then all the barons should meet there again; but always the ten knights were ordained to watch the sword day and night, and so they set a pavilion over the stone and the sword, and five always watched. So at Candlemas many more great lords came thither for to have won the sword, but there might none prevail. And right as Arthur did at Christmas, he did at Candlemas, and pulled out the sword easily, whereof the barons were sore agrieved and put it off in delay till the high feast of Easter, yet there were some of the great lords had indignation that Arthur should be king, and put it off in a delay till the feast of Pentecost. And at the feast of Pentecost all manner of men essayed to pull at the sword that would essay, but none might prevail but Arthur, and he pulled it out afore all the lords and commons that were there, wherefore all the commons cried at once, "We will have Arthur unto our king. We will put him no more in delay, for we all see that it is G.o.d's will that he shall be our king, and who that holdeth against it, we will slay him." And therewith they all kneeled at once, both rich and poor, and cried Arthur mercy because they had delayed him so long, and Arthur forgave them, and took the sword between both his hands, and offered it upon the altar where the Archbishop was, and so was he made knight of the best man that was there. And so anon was the coronation made. And there was he sworn unto his lords and the commons for to be a true king and to stand with true justice from thenceforth the days of his life.
402
After Arthur was made king, he spent several years in war with his lawless barons before he finally established a stable government in England. Malory's accounts of these wars are interspersed with stories of miraculous incidents, accounts of the adventures of knights, and descriptions of feasts, tournaments, and jousts. The following is a description of the jousting between the knights of King Arthur and those of two French kings, Ban and Bors, who had come to aid Arthur in his wars.
A TOURNEY WITH THE FRENCH