作者：Knowles, James, Sir
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The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights试读：
PREFACE TO THE EIGHTH EDITION
he Publishers have asked me to authorise a new edition, in my own name, of this little book—now long out of print—which was written by me thirty-five years ago under the initials J.T.K.
In acceding to their request I wish to say that the book as now published is merely a word-for-word reprint of my early effort to help to popularise the Arthur legends.
It is little else than an abridgment of Sir Thomas Malory’s version of them as printed by Caxton—with a few additions from Geoffrey of Monmouth and other sources—and an endeavour to arrange the many tales into a more or less consecutive story.
The chief pleasure which came to me from it was, and is, that it began for me a long and intimate acquaintance with Lord Tennyson, to whom, by his permission, I Dedicated it before I was personally known to him.
JAMES KNOWLES.
Addendum by Lady Knowles
In response to a widely expressed wish for a fresh edition of this little book—now for some years out of print—a new and ninth edition has been prepared.
In his preface my husband says that the intimacy with Lord Tennyson to which it led was the chief pleasure the book brought him. I have been asked to furnish a few more particulars on this point that may be generally interesting, and feel that I cannot do better than give some extracts from a letter written by himself to a friend in July 1896.
“DEAR ——,
“I am so very glad you approve of my little effort to popularise the Arthur Legends. Tennyson had written his first four ‘Idylls of the King’ before my book appeared, which was in 1861. Indeed, it was in consequence of the first four Idylls that I sought and obtained, while yet a stranger to him, leave to dedicate my venture to him. He was extremely kind about it—declared ‘it ought to go through forty editions’—and when I came to know him personally talked very frequently about it and Arthur with me, and made constant use of it when he at length yielded to my perpetual urgency and took up again his forsaken project of treating the whole subject of King Arthur.
“He discussed and rediscussed at any amount of length the way in which this could now be done—and the Symbolism, which had from his earliest time haunted him as the inner meaning to be given to it, brought him back to the Poem in its changed shape of separate pictures.
“He used often to say that it was entirely my doing that he revived his old plan, and added, ‘I know more about Arthur than any other man in England, and I think you know next most.’ It would amuse you to see in what intimate detail he used to consult with me—and often with my little book in front of us—over the various tales, and when I wrote an article (in the shape of a long letter) in the Spectator of January 1870 he asked to reprint it, and published it with the collected Idylls.
“For years, while his boys were at school and college, I acted as his confidential friend in business and many other matters, and I suppose he told me more about himself and his life than any other man now living knows.”
ISABEL KNOWLES.
ILLUSTRATOR’S NOTE
f scenes from the Legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table many lovely pictures have been painted, showing much diversity of figures and surroundings, some being definitely sixth-century British or Saxon, as in Blair Leighton’s fine painting of the dead Elaine; others—for example, Watts’ Sir Galahad—show knight and charger in fifteenth-century armour; while the warriors of Burne Jones wear strangely impracticable armour of some mystic period. Each of these painters was free to follow his own conception, putting the figures into whatever period most appealed to his imagination; for he was not illustrating the actual tales written by Sir Thomas Malory, otherwise he would have found himself face to face with a difficulty.
King Arthur and his knights fought, endured, and toiled in the sixth century, when the Saxons were overrunning Britain; but their achievements were not chronicled by Sir Thomas Malory until late in the fifteenth century.
Sir Thomas, as Froissart has done before him, described the habits of life, the dresses, weapons, and armour that his own eyes looked upon in the every-day scenes about him, regardless of the fact that almost every detail mentioned was something like a thousand years too late.
Had Malory undertaken an account of the landing of Julius Caesar he would, as a matter of course, have protected the Roman legions with bascinet or salade, breastplate, pauldron and palette, coudiére, taces and the rest, and have armed them with lance and shield, jewel-hilted sword and slim misericorde; while the Emperor himself might have been given the very suit of armour stripped from the Duke of Clarence before his fateful encounter with the butt of malmsey.
Did not even Shakespeare calmly give cannon to the Romans and suppose every continental city to lie majestically beside the sea? By the old writers, accuracy in these matters was disregarded, and anachronisms were not so much tolerated as unperceived.
In illustrating this edition of “The Legends of King Arthur and his Knights,” it has seemed best, and indeed unavoidable if the text and the pictures are to tally, to draw what Malory describes, to place the fashion of the costumes and armour somewhere about A.D. 1460, and to arm the knights in accordance with the Tabard Period.
LANCELOT SPEED.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
● The Marriage of King Arthur● Then fell Sir Ector down upon his knees upon the ground beforeyoung Arthur, and Sir Key also with him.● The Lady of the Lake● The giant sat at supper, gnawing on a limb of a man, and baking
his huge frame by the fire● The castle rocked and rove throughout, and all the walls fell
crashed and breaking to the earth● Came forth twelve fair damsels, and saluted King Arthur by his
name● Prianius was christened, and made a duke and knight of the
Round Table● Sir Lancelot smote down with one spear five knights, and brake
the backs of four, and cast down the King of Northgales● Beyond the chapel, he met a fair damsel, who said, “Sir Lancelot,
leave that sword behind thee, or thou diest”● “Lady,” replied Sir Beaumains, “a knight is little worth who may not
bear with a damsel”● So he rode into the hall and alighted● Then they began the battle, and tilted at their hardest against
each other● And running to her chamber, she sought in her casket for the
piece of iron ... and fitted it in Tristram’s sword● By the time they had finished drinking they loved each other so
well that their love never more might leave them● Waving her hands and muttering the charm, and presently
enclosed him fast within the tree● Galahad ... quickly lifted up the stone, and forthwith came out a
foul smoke● “This girdle, lords,” said she, “is made for the most part of mine
own hair, which, while I was yet in the world, I loved full well”● At last the strange knight smote him to the earth, and gave him
such a buffet on the helm as wellnigh killed him● Then was Sir Lancelot sent for, and the letter read aloud by a clerk● But still the knights cried mightily without the door, “Traitor, come
forth!”
CHAPTER I
The Prophecies of Merlin, and the Birth of Arthur
ing Vortigern the usurper sat upon his throne in London, when, suddenly, upon a certain day, ran in a breathless messenger, and cried aloud—
“Arise, Lord King, for the enemy is come; even Ambrosius and Uther, upon whose throne thou sittest—and full twenty thousand with them—and they have sworn by a great oath, Lord, to slay thee, ere this year be done; and even now they march towards thee as the north wind of winter for bitterness and haste.”
At those words Vortigern’s face grew white as ashes, and, rising in confusion and disorder, he sent for all the best artificers and craftsmen and mechanics, and commanded them vehemently to go and build him straightway in the furthest west of his lands a great and strong castle, where he might fly for refuge and escape the vengeance of his master’s sons—“and, moreover,” cried he, “let the work be done within a hundred days from now, or I will surely spare no life amongst you all.”
Then all the host of craftsmen, fearing for their lives, found out a proper site whereon to build the tower, and eagerly began to lay in the foundations. But no sooner were the walls raised up above the ground than all their work was overwhelmed and broken down by night invisibly, no man perceiving how, or by whom, or what. And the same thing happening again, and yet again, all the workmen, full of terror, sought out the king, and threw themselves upon their faces before him, beseeching him to interfere and help them or to deliver them from their dreadful work.
Filled with mixed rage and fear, the king called for the astrologers and wizards, and took counsel with them what these things might be, and how to overcome them. The wizards worked their spells and incantations, and in the end declared that nothing but the blood of a youth born without mortal father, smeared on the foundations of the castle, could avail to make it stand. Messengers were therefore sent forthwith through all the land to find, if it were possible, such a child. And, as some of them went down a certain village street, they saw a band of lads fighting and quarrelling, and heard them shout at one—“Avaunt, thou imp!—avaunt! Son of no mortal man! go, find thy father, and leave us in peace.”
At that the messengers looked steadfastly on the lad, and asked who he was. One said his name was Merlin; another, that his birth and parentage were known by no man; a third, that the foul fiend alone was his father. Hearing the things, the officers seized Merlin, and carried him before the king by force.
But no sooner was he brought to him than he asked in a loud voice, for what cause he was thus dragged there?
“My magicians,” answered Vortigern, “told me to seek out a man that had no human father, and to sprinkle my castle with his blood, that it may stand.”
“Order those magicians,” said Merlin, “to come before me, and I will convict them of a lie.”
The king was astonished at his words, but commanded the magicians to come and sit down before Merlin, who cried to them—
“Because ye know not what it is that hinders the foundation of the castle, ye have advised my blood for a cement to it, as if that would avail; but tell me now rather what there is below that ground, for something there is surely underneath that will not suffer the tower to stand?”
The wizards at these words began to fear, and made no answer. Then said Merlin to the king—
“I pray, Lord, that workmen may be ordered to dig deep down into the ground till they shall come to a great pool of water.”
This then was done, and the pool discovered far beneath the surface of the ground.
Then, turning again to the magicians, Merlin said, “Tell me now, false sycophants, what there is underneath that pool?”—but they were silent. Then said he to the king, “Command this pool to be drained, and at the bottom shall be found two dragons, great and huge, which now are sleeping, but which at night awake and fight and tear each other. At their great struggle all the ground shakes and trembles, and so casts down thy towers, which, therefore, never yet could find secure foundations.”
The king was amazed at these words, but commanded the pool to be forthwith drained; and surely at the bottom of it did they presently discover the two dragons, fast asleep, as Merlin had declared.
But Vortigern sat upon the brink of the pool till night to see what else would happen.
Then those two dragons, one of which was white, the other red, rose up and came near one another, and began a sore fight, and cast forth fire with their breath. But the white dragon had the advantage, and chased the other to the end of the lake. And he, for grief at his flight, turned back upon his foe, and renewed the combat, and forced him to retire in turn. But in the end the red dragon was worsted, and the white dragon disappeared no man knew where.
When their battle was done, the king desired Merlin to tell him what it meant. Whereat he, bursting into tears, cried out this prophecy, which first foretold the coming of King Arthur.
“Woe to the red dragon, which figureth the British nation, for his banishment cometh quickly; his lurkingholes shall be seized by the white dragon—the Saxon whom thou, O king, hast called to the land. The mountains shall be levelled as the valleys, and the rivers of the valleys shall run blood; cities shall be burned, and churches laid in ruins; till at length the oppressed shall turn for a season and prevail against the strangers. For a Boar of Cornwall shall arise and rend them, and trample their necks beneath his feet. The island shall be subject to his power, and he shall take the forests of Gaul. The house of Romulus shall dread him—all the world shall fear him—and his end shall no man know; he shall be immortal in the mouths of the people, and his works shall be food to those that tell them.
“But as for thee, O Vortigern, flee thou the sons of Constantine, for they shall burn thee in thy tower. For thine own ruin wast thou traitor to their father, and didst bring the Saxon heathens to the land. Aurelius and Uther are even now upon thee to revenge their father’s murder; and the brood of the white dragon shall waste thy country, and shall lick thy blood. Find out some refuge, if thou wilt! but who may escape the doom of God?”
The king heard all this, trembling greatly; and, convicted of his sins, said nothing in reply. Only he hasted the builders of his tower by day and night, and rested not till he had fled thereto.
In the meantime, Aurelius, the rightful king, was hailed with joy by the Britons, who flocked to his standard, and prayed to be led against the Saxons. But he, till he had first killed Vortigern, would begin no other war. He marched therefore to Cambria, and came before the tower which the usurper had built. Then, crying out to all his knights, “Avenge ye on him who hath ruined Britain and slain my father and your king!” he rushed with many thousands at the castle walls. But, being driven back again and yet again, at length he thought of fire, and ordered blazing brands to be cast into the building from all sides. These finding soon a proper fuel, ceased not to rage, till spreading to a mighty conflagration, they burned down the tower and Vortigern within it.
Then did Aurelius turn his strength against Hengist and the Saxons, and, defeating them in many places, weakened their power for a long season, so that the land had peace.
Anon the king, making many journeys to and fro, restoring ruined churches and, creating order, came to the monastery near Salisbury, where all those British knights lay buried who had been slain there by the treachery of Hengist. For when in former times Hengist had made a solemn truce with Vortigern, to meet in peace and settle terms, whereby himself and all his Saxons should depart from Britain, the Saxon soldiers carried every one of them beneath his garment a long dagger, and, at a given signal, fell upon the Britons, and slew them, to the number of nearly five hundred.
The sight of the place where the dead lay moved Aurelius to great sorrow, and he cast about in his mind how to make a worthy tomb over so many noble martyrs, who had died there for their country.
When he had in vain consulted many craftsmen and builders, he sent, by the advice of the archbishop, for Merlin, and asked him what to do. “If you would honour the burying-place of these men,” said Merlin, “with an everlasting monument, send for the Giants’ Dance which is in Killaraus, a mountain in Ireland; for there is a structure of stone there which none of this age could raise without a perfect knowledge of the arts. They are stones of a vast size and wondrous nature, and if they can be placed here as they are there, round this spot of ground, they will stand for ever.”
At these words of Merlin, Aurelius burst into laughter, and said, “How is it possible to remove such vast stones from so great a distance, as if Britain, also, had no stones fit for the work?”
“I pray the king,” said Merlin, “to forbear vain laughter; what I have said is true, for those stones are mystical and have healing virtues. The giants of old brought them from the furthest coast of Africa, and placed them in Ireland while they lived in that country: and their design was to make baths in them, for use in time of grievous illness. For if they washed the stones and put the sick into the water, it certainly healed them, as also it did them that were wounded in battle; and there is no stone among them but hath the same virtue still.”
When the Britons heard this, they resolved to send for the stones, and to make war upon the people of Ireland if they offered to withhold them. So, when they had chosen Uther the king’s brother for their chief, they set sail, to the number of 15,000 men, and came to Ireland. There Gillomanius, the king, withstood them fiercely, and not till after a great battle could they approach the Giants’ Dance, the sight of which filled them with joy and admiration. But when they sought to move the stones, the strength of all the army was in vain, until Merlin, laughing at their failures, contrived machines of wondrous cunning, which took them down with ease, and placed them in the ships.
When they had brought the whole to Salisbury, Aurelius, with the crown upon his head, kept for four days the feast of Pentecost with royal pomp; and in the midst of all the clergy and the people, Merlin raised up the stones, and set them round the sepulchre of the knights and barons, as they stood in the mountains of Ireland.
Then was the monument called “Stonehenge,” which stands, as all men know, upon the plain of Salisbury to this very day.
Soon thereafter it befell that Aurelius was slain by poison at Winchester, and was himself buried within the Giants’ Dance.
At the same time came forth a comet of amazing size and brightness, darting out a beam, at the end whereof was a cloud of fire shaped like a dragon, from whose mouth went out two rays, one stretching over Gaul, the other ending in seven lesser rays over the Irish sea.
At the appearance of this star a great dread fell upon the people, and Uther, marching into Cambria against the son of Vortigern, himself was very troubled to learn what it might mean. Then Merlin, being called before him, cried with a loud voice: “O mighty loss! O stricken Britain! Alas! the great prince is gone from us. Aurelius Ambrosius is dead, whose death will be ours also, unless God help us. Haste, therefore, noble Uther, to destroy the enemy; the victory shall be thine, and thou shalt be king of all Britain. For the star with the fiery dragon signifies thyself; and the ray over Gaul portends that thou shalt have a son, most mighty, whom all those kingdoms shall obey which the ray covers.”
Thus, for the second time, did Merlin foretell the coming of King Arthur. And Uther, when he was made king, remembered Merlin’s words, and caused two dragons to be made in gold, in likeness of the dragon he had seen in the star. One of these he gave to Winchester Cathedral, and had the other carried into all his wars before him, whence he was ever after called Uther Pendragon, or the dragon’s head.
Now, when Uther Pendragon had passed through all the land, and settled it—and even voyaged into all the countries of the Scots, and tamed the fierceness of that rebel people—he came to London, and ministered justice there. And it befell at a certain great banquet and high feast which the king made at Easter-tide, there came, with many other earls and barons, Gorloïs, Duke of Cornwall, and his wife Igerna, who was the most famous beauty in all Britain. And soon thereafter, Gorloïs being slain in battle, Uther determined to make Igerna his own wife. But in order to do this, and enable him to come to her—for she was shut up in the high castle of Tintagil, on the furthest coast of Cornwall—the king sent for Merlin, to take counsel with him and to pray his help. This, therefore, Merlin promised him on one condition—namely, that the king should give him up the first son born of the marriage. For Merlin by his arts foreknew that this firstborn should be the long-wished prince, King Arthur.
When Uther, therefore, was at length happily wedded, Merlin came to the castle on a certain day, and said, “Sir, thou must now provide thee for the nourishing of thy child.”
And the king, nothing doubting, said, “Be it as thou wilt.”
“I know a lord of thine in this land,” said Merlin, “who is a man both true and faithful; let him have the nourishing of the child. His name is Sir Ector, and he hath fair possessions both in England and in Wales. When, therefore, the child is born, let him be delivered unto me, unchristened, at yonder postern-gate, and I will bestow him in the care of this good knight.”
So when the child was born, the king bid two knights and two ladies to take it, bound in rich cloth of gold, and deliver it to a poor man whom they should discover at the postern-gate. And the child being
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