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    King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
    King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
    King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
    Ebook323 pages5 hours

    King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table

    By Sir Thomas Malory

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    This classic fifteenth-century chronicle of King Arthur and his knights is the essential interpretation of Arthurian legend in the English language.

    Full of adventure, magic, and romance, these are the timeless tales of Arthur, the great warrior king of Britain; his loyal knight Lancelot; the beautiful Queen Guinevere; and the mysterious Merlin. Based on French Arthurian romances reaching back to the twelfth century, Sir James Knowles’s narrative tells of the goings-on at Camelot, epic battles against invading Saxon enemies, and Arthur’s quest for the Holy Grail, among many other exciting events.

    Sometimes published as Le Morte d’Arthur, these accounts of chivalry and daring escapades have inspired generations of storytellers, from the Romantic poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson to T. H. White, author of The Once and Future King, from American satirist Mark Twain to British comedy troupe Monty Python.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Media
    Release dateMay 12, 2020
    ISBN9781504063258
    King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
    Author

    Sir Thomas Malory

    Sir Thomas Malory (c. 1399/1405–1471), escritor inglés de identidad enigmática, aunque la versión más aceptada es que se trata de Malory de Newbold Revel, quien llegó a ser ­caballero, miembro del Parlamento inglés y que fue encarcelado durante largos periodos. Es probable que en prisión escribiera la mayor parte de La muerte de Arturo, una de las más importantes obras de la literatura inglesa sobre la leyenda artúrica.

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    Reviews for King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table

    3.5/5

    42 ratings20 reviews

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    • 4/5
      despite the difficult language (this is an untranslated version) very good read.
    • 3/5
      Having adored T.H. White's "The Once and Future King" in high school, I figured I would read this classic treatment of the Arthurian legends and enjoy it as well. Unfortunately, Malory's work was far less entertaining. Sure, I expected prose from the 15th century to be a harder to get through and denser than White's 20th century treatment, but "Le Morte D'Arthur" barely has an actual story. Malory gives us a series of very repetitive events and makes it difficult to identify with or even care about the main characters. I did give the book three stars, though, almost completely on the strength of the first chapters that go over Arthur's rise to the throne and the final chapter recounting his legendary death. These are worth reading and are very good. Overall, though, if you are looking for a more meaningful and entertaining telling of the Arthurian legends, go to White.
    • 5/5
      Very long, but as usual interesting that something written so long ago is still relatively current.
    • 4/5
      The first time I read this I was a college student immersed in literature. I loved the language and imagery, truly felt transported to another time and place. With this second reading I see James Bond. Arthur roams the countryside, bedding/leaving damsels, fighting/killing whatever gets in his way, getting himself wrapped up in conspiracies and evil plots, all without losing his smirk. OK, maybe Malory doesn't mention the smirk, but you know it's there.
    • 4/5
      I listened to the Librivox audiobook version, but the age of the text makes it pretty hard to follow in places, so I went back and reread some chapters at sacred-texts.com. My favourite parts of this were the parts I didn't already know (basically the whole Lancelot and Guinevere business and the grail quest) -- I think the best section is the bit where King Arthur is bored doesn't feel like paying taxes so he fights the entire Roman Empire, and then when he's defeated everyone and is in charge of everything he just goes home.
    • 3/5
      I barely got halfway through this book. While the stories are fun, the language makes for a slow, difficult read.
    • 5/5
      An essential Arthurian Legend text.
    • 3/5
      Classic tale of King Arthur and his Knights, read it at Uni, and want to read it properly without studying it to enjoy it more.
    • 4/5
      The mother of all Arthurian legends. Not the easiest reading, and extremely repetitious at points, but worth it if you like King Arthur stories. The ending chapters on the fall of Camelot are incredible.
    • 5/5
      Beautiful, oversized hardcover edition of this classic work. Learn the story of King Arthur as is was first "recorded." Highly recommended!
    • 3/5
      While I can appreciate it's standing as the English epic and the beauty of its prose, the key moments are disarrayed within a relentless series of encounters between incredible knights. Homer and Virgil are more believable and more touching because they are more human. Were I to recommend the death of Arthur, I would probably specify portions that avoid the action-movie feel of endless jousts. The opening sets the foundation of Arthur (Excalibur, Mordred) and is the only part involving Merlin. Perhaps a few sections in the middle regarding Sir Beumains, Sir Tritram, and the Lady Isoud would also be included. The last few hundred pages finally bring out a plot, showing the conflict between Lancelout and Arthur -- and the tragic result. If one wants to understand the nature of the knight errant, they might read just a few chapters to get the idea.
    • 2/5
      Very difficult, monotonous reading. Lots of smoting and brasting. Surprising source of subsequent Arthurian legends which bear little resemblance to Malory's work.
    • 5/5
      An absolute childhood favorite - I took my Malory (and my thesaurus) everywhere! I fear I wore out a few copies before I acquired this sturdy hardcover.
    • 5/5
      I think I read this over and over when I was a child, and when I came back to it as an adult, I still loved it. These tales are an ingrained part of western culture and are still a weather value for the rough winds of our morality.

      Of course Mallory's tales of Arthur are a fifteenth century re-modelling but what glorious new dressing has been added. Each tale is a short story in its own right, and each combines effortlessly to create the picture of heroes and a kingdom in which people mattered, in which civilisation was something to strive for and not something to endure.

      Maybe I'm just a sucker for Arthurian tales. They still delight and captivate me (all except the recent film version with Clive Owen and Keira Knightly) and I'm glad they do. We all know right and wrong is more complex than in Mallory's tales, but at least he makes living up to even simple choices filled with hurdles and pitfalls. Maybe that's why they work, because every hero wears his failings as openly as he wears his sword and shield.
    • 4/5
      "The Beast with the Hair on". The spelling is regularized but that's the only concession made to the modern reader. The Tales are unorganized, but that's part of the fun. Also we should consider that Malory's organization differs from our personal one because he was writing for his own time. A great read, which rewards rereading. I know Ive been back to it several times.
    • 4/5
      Keith Baines' edited version of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur renders Malory's compendium of Arthurian legends into modern idiom. Malory's Arthur and Knights of the Round Table would likely appear strange to those familiar with the Arthur stories from Tennyson's Idylls of the King and T.H. White's The Once and Future King. In Malory's 15th-century retelling of the traditional legends, the knights frequently behead those they best in jousting, beget bastards on various ladies, and regard chivalry more in its original meaning of horsemanship rather than the later Victorian ideals. That shouldn't alienate those who come to these stories from their later reworkings, as Malory seems to set his Arthur in all times, blending elements from 500 C.E. through the 1100's.
      The stories overlap at times, but, for the sake of ease, Malory divides them into eight books: The Tale of King Arthur; The Tale of King Arthur and the Emperor Lucius; The Tale of Sir Launcelot du Lake; The Tale of Sir Gareth; The Book of Sir Tristram of Lyoness; The Tale of the Sangreal; The Book of Sir Launcelot and Queen Gwynevere; and Le Morte d'Arthur. All of the books fit together to make one larger narrative, though The Book of Sir Tristram of Lyoness (a retelling of Tristan and Iseult) stands alone and could serve as its own book. While the story of Tristan and Iseult likely predates the Arthurian legends, by Malory's time it had been incorporated into that body of work (after it had likely influenced the relationship of LLancelot and Guinevere). The strongest books in the series are The Tale of King Arthur, The Tale of the Sangreal, The Book of Sir Launcelot and Queen Gwynevere, and Le Morte d'Arthur.
      If looking for an edition of Le Morte d'Arthur to serve as an introduction to the larger Arthurian tradition, Baines' translation is a serviceable work.
    • 3/5
      I agree with the reviewer who said this is not for the faint of heart, and few general readers are going to find this a great read. If you're looking for an absorbing, entertaining read with characters you can relate to and root for, you're absolutely, positively in the wrong place. Read instead Arthurian novels such as T.H. White's The Once and Future King or Mary Stewart's Merlin Trilogy. There are countless other such novels inspired by this material worth reading, and I've read a lot of them.

      But I did find it interesting at times going through this, one of the ur-texts as it were of Arthurian legend. There are other, earlier works of Arthurian literature: Geoffrey of Monmouth's The History of the Kings of Britain (1136), Chrétien de Troyes's Arthurian Romances in the 12th century and Wolfram von Eschenbach's Parzival in the 13th century are among the most notable. But Malory drew from several sources, so much so he's often described more as the "compiler" than the author of the work. I own a edition in two volumes that comes close to 1,000 pages. So this is an exhaustive resource of all sorts of facets of the legend. The story of Tristram and Iseult is here, for instance.

      And this is a medieval work, so it's imbued with its assumptions and attitudes. Obviously a source of outrage to some reviewers, and even by the standards of the time, comparing this to how women are treated in say Boccaccio's Decameron and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales--well, women don't come off well here. Misogyny abounds. And knights are held up as paragons who commit a lot of heinous acts and just plain WTF. A lot is repetitive and a slog--as one reviewer put it too much is "joust, joust, joust." And this was written about half-way between Chaucer and Shakespeare. With the spelling regularized it's quite readable, much more so than unmodernized Chaucer. But with those that choose to preserve the archaic words, that means wading through words such as "hight" (is called) and "mickle" (much). And there's just so much that can be excused by, well, "it's the times"--I found plenty of medieval writers who were wonderful reads, and just plain more humane: Dante, Boccaccio, Chaucer. I can't see Malory as their equal--not remotely. But as a fan of Arthurian literature and someone fascinated by the Middle Ages, this did from time to time have its fascinations.
    • 2/5
      I know Le Mort d'Arthur is supposed to be a great classic and the definitive Arthur, but damn it, I'm 377 pages in and I can't do it anymore. It is just too much of the same flipping story over and over and over and over again. And not just the same story (knight jousts with knight), but almost the same exact wording with each battle.

      The only thing to have sparked my interest in about 200 pages was this line: "The King Arthur overtook her [a false lady and sorceress], and with the same sword he smite off her head, and the Lady of the Lake took up her head and hung it up by the hair to her saddle-bow." THAT is pretty damn awesome, but it's also just one line out of all those 200 pages, and it made me long for a Lady of the Lake story, not more and more of these knights smacking each other around and talking about how knightly and courtly they are because they are big strong men who can politely knock another guy off a horse.

      I am so wonderfully wroth at this book that I'm about to come at all of these damn knights like thunder and smote them down with their own damn lances. (PS. If I never see the words "wroth", "smote", or "came together like thunder" again, it will be too soon.) Seriously, don't these guys have anything better to do than run around the forests or hang out a bridges and joust with each other? Isn't there farming or something to be done? Anything? Please? I mean, I'll read about the wheat in the fields at this point.

      Did I also mention that it's over 900 pages? Well, it is, and apparently this is the SHORT version. The other version is in like three volumes or something. Since it's getting the point that I'm starting to hate Arthur and his knights, I need to just put in the towel and read something — anything — else for a while.

      Right now, I'm really looking forward to rereading Simon Armitag's translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, because I need something to remind me why I used to love Arthurian stories so much.
    • 5/5
      This Edition is based on Caxton's text: It therefore very largely contains the original detailed content - alterations have been confined almost entirely to spellings and a little grammar.

      This is the 'Romance' as conceived by Malory; every human strength and frailty explored through a tale of fair and foul maidens bestowing favours and demanding submission from manly counterparts, valiant and timid knights gripped by purity of motives and the basest of desires, the noble pursuit of mystical religious objects, considerable magic worked for good and bad, lived folk-lore, and at its core a legendary great King whose moral reputation, avowed love and sincere loyalty for his fellows in the face of every sort of affliction, assault and treachery survives unsullied to the present day.

      Be he real or imagined - Arthur - is one of the greatest characters ever written down in the English language - with his gallant, chivalric recruits to the Round Table, their strong-willed female companions and array of adversaries the range of all future English Literature (and much for Europe and modern America) is given a riveting basis for its later global success.

      It is said (by many) Cervantes' Don Quixote was the first modern novel - I disagree - 'The Death of Arthur' in my estimation has that significant role.
    • 2/5
      Malory was a medieval author who wrote the first recorded account of the largely mythical King Arthur. It is largely an account of the 100 knights of the round table (or "table round"). Unfortunately, these stories are rarely interesting (except maybe for graphic descriptions of quality kills) and it really gets tedious. The stories we commonly associate with King Arthur have their seeds here, but are fleshed out derivatives, it's hard to see the story we're all familiar with. Perhaps Malory was a minstrel and these tales made for good song, but for read, they are dull, dull, dull.

    Book preview

    King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table - Sir Thomas Malory

    I

    Merlin Foretells the Birth of Arthur

    King 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 quarreling, 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 lurking-holes shall be seized by the white dragon—the Saxon whom thou, O king, hast called to the land. The mountains shall be leveled 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 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 honor 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 sepulcher of the knights and barons, as they stood in the mountains of Ireland.

    Then was the monument called Stonehenge, and 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 art 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 delivered thus to Merlin, who himself took the guise of a poor man, was carried by him to a holy priest and christened by the name of Arthur, and then was taken to Sir Ector’s house, and nourished at Sir Ector’s wife’s own breasts. And in the same house he remained privily for many years, no man soever knowing where he was, save Merlin and the king.

    Anon it befell that the king was seized by a lingering distemper, and the Saxon heathens, taking their occasion, came back from over sea, and swarmed upon the land, wasting it with fire and sword. When Uther heard thereof, he fell into a greater rage than his weakness could bear, and commanded all his nobles to come before him, that he might upbraid them for their cowardice. And when he had sharply and hotly rebuked them, he swore that he himself, nigh unto death although he lay, would lead them forth against the enemy. Then causing a horse-litter to be made, in which he might be carried—for he was too faint and weak to ride—he went up with all his army swiftly against the Saxons.

    But they, when they heard that Uther was coming in a litter, disdained to fight him, saying it would be shame for brave men to fight with one half dead. So they retired into their city; and, as it were in scorn of danger, left the gates wide open. But Uther straightway commanding his men to assault the town, they did so without loss of time, and had already reached the gates, when the Saxons, repenting too late of their haughty pride, rushed forth to the defense. The battle raged till night, and was begun again next day; but at last, their leaders, Octa and Eosa, being slain, the Saxons turned their backs and fled, leaving the Britons a full triumph.

    The king at this felt so great joy, that, whereas before he could scarce raise himself without help, he now sat upright in his litter by himself, and said, with a laughing and merry face, They called me the half-dead king, and so indeed I was; but victory to me half dead is better than defeat and the best health. For to die with honor is far better than to live disgraced.

    But the Saxons, although thus defeated, were ready still for war. Uther would have pursued them; but his illness had by now so grown, that his knights and barons kept him from the adventure. Whereat the enemy took courage, and left nothing undone to destroy the land; until, descending to the vilest treachery, they resolved to kill the king by poison.

    To this end, as he lay sick at Verulum, they sent and poisoned stealthily a spring of clear water, whence he was wont to drink daily; and so, on the very next day, he was taken with the pains of death, as were also a hundred others after him, before the villainy was discovered, and heaps of earth thrown over the well.

    The knights and barons, full of sorrow, now took counsel together, and came to Merlin for his help to learn the king’s will before he died, for he was by this time speechless. Sirs, there is no remedy, said Merlin, and God’s will must be done; but be ye all to-morrow before him, for God will make him speak before he die.

    So on the morrow all the barons, with Merlin, stood round the bedside of the king; and Merlin said aloud to Uther, Lord, shall thy son Arthur be the king of all this realm after thy days?

    Then Uther Pendragon turned him about, and said, in the hearing of them all, God’s blessing and mine be upon him. I bid him pray for my soul, and also that he claim my crown, or forfeit all my blessing; and with those words he died.

    Then came together all the bishops and the clergy, and great multitudes of people, and bewailed the king; and carrying his body to the convent of Ambrius, they buried it close by his brother’s grave, within the Giants’ Dance.

    II

    The Crowning of Arthur and the Sword Excalibur

    Now Arthur the prince had all this time been nourished in Sir Ector’s house as his own son, and was fair and tall and comely, being of the age of fifteen years, great in strength, gentle in manner, and accomplished in all exercises proper for the training of a knight.

    But as yet he knew not of his father; for Merlin had so dealt, that none save Uther and himself knew aught about him. Wherefore it befell that many of the knights and barons who heard King Uther speak before his death, and call his son Arthur his successor, were in great amazement; and some doubted, and others were displeased.

    Anon the chief lords and princes set forth each to his own land, and, raising armed men and multitudes of followers, determined every one to gain the crown for himself; for they said in their hearts, If there be any such a son at all as he of whom this wizard forced the king to speak, who are we that a beardless boy should have rule over us?

    So the land stood long in great peril, for every lord and baron sought but his own advantage; and the Saxons, growing ever more adventurous, wasted and overran the towns and villages in every part.

    Then Merlin went to Brice, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and advised him to require all the earls and barons of the realm and all knights and gentlemen-at-arms to come to him at London, before Christmas, under pain of cursing, that they might learn the will of Heaven who should be king. This, therefore, the archbishop did, and upon Christmas Eve were met together in London all the greatest princes, lords, and barons; and long before day they prayed in St. Paul’s Church, and the archbishop besought Heaven for a sign who should be lawful king of all the realm.

    And as they prayed, there was seen in the churchyard, set straight before the doorways of the church, a huge square stone having a naked sword stuck in the midst of it. And on the sword was written in letters of gold, Whoso pulleth out the sword from this stone is born the rightful King of England.

    At this all the people wondered greatly; and, when Mass was over, the nobles, knights, and princes ran out eagerly from the church to see the stone and sword; and a law was forthwith made that whoso should pull out the sword should be acknowledged straightway King of Britain.

    Then many knights and barons pulled at the sword with all their might, and some of them tried many times, but none could stir or move it.

    When all had tried in vain, the archbishop declared the man whom Heaven had chosen was not yet there. But God, said he, will doubtless make him known ere many days.

    So ten knights were chosen, being men of high renown, to watch and keep the sword; and there was proclamation made through all the land that whosoever would, had leave and liberty to try and pull it from the stone. But though great multitudes of people came, both gentle and simple, for many days, no man could ever move the sword a hair’s breadth from its place.

    Now, at the New Year’s Eve a great tournament was to be held in London, which the archbishop had devised to keep together lords and commons, lest they should grow estranged in the troublous and unsettled times. To the which tournament there came, with many other knights, Sir Ector, Arthur’s foster-father, who had great possessions near to London; and with him came his son, Sir Key, but recently made knight, to take his part in the jousting, and young Arthur also to witness all the sports and fighting.

    But as they rode towards the jousts, Sir Key found suddenly he had no sword, for he had left it at his father’s house; and turning to young Arthur, he prayed him to ride back and fetch it for him. I will with a good will, said Arthur; and rode fast back after the sword.

    But when he came to the house he found it locked and empty, for all were gone forth to see the tournament. Whereat, being angry and impatient, he said within himself, I will ride to the churchyard and take with me the sword that sticketh in the stone, for my brother shall not go without a sword this day.

    So he rode and came to the churchyard, and alighting from his horse he tied him to the gate, and went to the pavilion, which was pitched near the stone, wherein abode the ten knights who watched and kept it; but he found no knights there, for all were gone to see the jousting.

    Then he took the sword by its handle, and lightly and fiercely he pulled it out of the stone, and took his horse and rode until he came to Sir Key and delivered him the sword. But as soon as Sir Key saw it he knew well it was the sword of the stone, and, riding swiftly to his father, he cried out, Lo! here, sir, is the sword of the stone, wherefore it is I who must be king of all this land.

    When Sir Ector saw the sword, he turned back straight with Arthur and Sir Key and came to the churchyard, and there alighting, they went all three into the church, and Sir Key was sworn to tell truly how he came by the sword. Then he confessed it was his brother Arthur who had brought it to him.

    Whereat Sir Ector, turning to young Arthur, asked him—How gottest thou the sword?

    Sir, said he, I will tell you. When I went home to fetch my brother’s sword, I found nobody to deliver it to me, for all were abroad to the jousts. Yet was I loth to leave my brother swordless, and, bethinking me of this one, I came hither eagerly to fetch it for him, and pulled it out of the stone without any pain.

    Then said Sir Ector, much amazed and looking steadfastly on Arthur, If this indeed be thus, ’tis thou who shalt be king of all this land—and God will have it so—for none but he who should be rightful Lord of Britain might ever draw this sword forth from that stone. But let me now with mine own eyes see thee put back the sword into its place and draw it forth again.

    That is no mastery, said Arthur; and straightway set it in the stone. And then Sir Ector pulled at it himself, and after him Sir Key, with all his might, but both of them in vain: then Arthur, reaching forth his hand and grasping at the pommel, pulled it out easily, and at once.

    Then fell Sir Ector down upon his knees upon the ground before young Arthur, and Sir Key also with him, and straightway did him homage as their sovereign lord.

    But Arthur cried aloud, Alas! mine own dear father and my brother, why kneel ye thus to me?

    Nay, my Lord Arthur, answered then Sir Ector, we are of no blood-kinship with thee, and little though I thought how high thy kin might be, yet wast thou never more than foster-child of mine. And then he told him all he knew about his infancy, and how a stranger had delivered him, with a great sum of gold, into his hands to be brought up and nourished as his own born child, and then had disappeared.

    But when young Arthur heard of it, he fell upon Sir Ector’s neck, and wept, and made great lamentation, For now, said he, I have in one day lost my father and my mother and my brother.

    Sir, said Sir Ector presently, when thou shalt be made king be good and gracious unto me and mine.

    If not, said Arthur, I were no true man’s son at all, for thou art he in all the world to whom I owe the most; and my good lady and mother, thy wife, hath ever kept and fostered me as though I were her own; so if it be God’s will that I be king hereafter as thou sayest, desire of me whatever thing thou wilt and I will do it; and God forbid that I should fail thee in it.

    I will but pray, replied Sir Ector, that thou wilt make my son Sir Key, thy foster-brother, seneschal of all the lands.

    That shall he be, said Arthur; and never shall another hold that office, save thy son, while he and I do live.

    Anon, they left the church and went to the archbishop to tell him that the sword had been achieved. And when he saw the sword in Arthur’s hand he set a day and summoned all the princes, knights, and barons to meet again at St. Paul’s Church and see the will of Heaven signified. So when they came together, the sword was put back in the stone, and all tried, from the greatest to the least, to move it; but there before them

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