Legends of King Arthur and His Knights, The. Sir James Knowles
two might fight together; for he was a man of mighty stature and courage, and thought himself sure of the victory. This challenge, King Arthur, full weary the siege, accepted with great joy, and sent back word to Flollo that he would meet him whensoever he appointed.
And a truce being made on both sides, they met together the next day on the island without the city, where all the people also were gathered to see the issue. And as the king and Flollo rode up to the lists, each was so nobly armed and horsed, and sat so mightily upon his saddle, that no man could tell which way the battle would end.
When they had saluted one another, and presented themselves against each other with their lances aloft, they put spurs to their horses and began a fierce encounter. But King Arthur, carrying his spear more warily, struck it on the upper part of Flollo’s breast, and flung him from his saddle to the earth. Then drawing his sword, he cried to him to rise, and rushed upon him; but Flollo, starting up, met him with his spear couched, and pierced the breast of King Arthur’s horse, and overthrew both horse and man.
The Britons, when they saw their king upon the ground, could scarcely keep themselves from breaking up the truce and falling on the Gauls. But as they were about to burst the barriers, and rush upon the lists, King Arthur hastily arose, and, guarding himself with his shield, ran with speed on Flollo. And now they renewed the assault with great rage, being sorely bent upon each other’s death.
At length, Flollo, seizing his advantage, gave King Arthur a huge stroke upon the helm, which nigh overthrew him, and drew forth his blood in streams.
But when King Arthur saw his armour and shield red with blood, he was inflamed with fury, and lifting up Excalibur on high, with all his might, he struck straight through the helmet into Flollo’s head, and smote it into halves; and Flollo falling backwards, and tearing up the ground with his spurs, expired.
As soon as this news spread, the citizens all ran together, and, opening the gates, surrendered the city to the conqueror.
And when he had overrun the whole province with his arms, and reduced it everywhere to subjection, he returned again to Britain, and held his court at Caerleon, with greater state than ever.
Anon he invited thereto all the kings, dukes, earls, and barons, who owed him homage, that he might treat them royally, and reconcile them to each other, and to his rule.
And never was there a city more fit and pleasant for such festivals. For on one side it was washed by a noble river, so that the kings and princes from the countries beyond sea might conveniently sail up to it; and on the other side, the beauty of the groves and meadows, and the stateliness and magnificence of the royal palaces, with lofty gilded roofs, made it even rival the grandeur of Rome. It was famous also for two great and noble churches, whereof one was built in honour of the martyr Julius, and adorned with a choir of virgins who had devoted themselves wholly to the service of God; and the other, founded in memory of St. Aaron, his companion, maintained a convent of canons, and was the third metropolitan church of Britain. Besides, there was a college of two hundred philosophers, learned in astronomy, and all the other sciences and arts.
In this place, therefore, full of such delights, King Arthur held his court, with many jousts and tournaments, and royal huntings, and rested for a season after all his wars.
And on a certain day there came into the court a messenger from Ryence, King of North Wales, bearing this message from his master: That King Ryence had discomfited eleven kings, and had compelled each one of them to cut off his beard; that he had trimmed a mantle with these beards, and lacked but one more beard to finish it; and that he therefore now sent for King Arthur’s beard, which he required of him forthwith, or else he would enter his lands and burn and slay, and never leave them till he had taken by force not his beard only, but his head also.
When King Arthur heard these words he flushed all scarlet, and rising in great anger said, “Well is it for thee that thou speakest another man’s words with thy lips, and not thine own. Thou hast said thy message, which is the most insolent and villainous that ever man heard sent to any king: now hear my reply. My beard is yet too young to trim that mantle of thy master’s with; yet, young although I be, I owe no homage either to him or any man—nor will ever owe. But, young although I be, I will have thy master’s homage upon both his knees before this year be past, or else he shall lose his head, by the faith of my body, for this message is the shamefullest I ever heard speak of. I see well thy king hath never yet met with a worshipful man; but tell that King Arthur will have his head or his worship right soon.”
Then the messenger departed, and Arthur, looking round upon his knights, demanded of them if any there knew this King Ryence. “Yea,” answered Sir Noran, “I know him well, and there be few better or stronger knights upon a field than he; and he is passing proud and haughty in his heart; wherefore I doubt not, Lord, he will make war on thee with mighty power.”
“Well,” said King Arthur, “I shall be ready for him, and that shall he find.”
While the king thus spoke, there came into the hall a damsel having on a mantle richly furred, which she let fall and showed herself to be girded with a noble sword. The king being surprised at this, said, “Damsel, wherefore art thou girt with that sword, for it beseemeth thee not?” “Sir,” said she, “I will tell thee. This sword wherewith I am thus girt gives me great sorrow and encumbrance, for I may not be delivered from it till I find a knight faithful and pure and true, strong of body and of valiant deeds, without guile or treachery, who shall be able to draw it from its scabbard, which no man else can do. And I have but just now come from the court of King Ryence, for there they told me many great and good knights were to be ever found; but he and all his knights have tried to draw it forth in vain—for none of them can move it.”
“This is a great marvel,” said King Arthur; “I will myself try to draw forth this sword, not thinking in my heart that I am the best knight, but rather to begin and give example that all may try after me.” Saying this, he took the sword and pulled at it with all his might, but could not shake or move it.
“Thou needest not strive so hard, Lord,” said the damsel, “for whoever may be able to pull it forth shall do so very easily.” “Thou sayest well,” replied the king, remembering how he had himself drawn forth the sword from the stone before St. Paul’s. “Now try ye, all my barons; but beware ye be not stained with shame, or any treachery, or guile.” And turning away his face from them, King Arthur mused full heavily of sins within his breast he knew of, and which his failure brought to mind right sadly.
Then all the barons present tried each after other, but could none of them succeed; whereat the damsel greatly wept, and said, “Alas, alas! I thought in this court to have found the best knight, without shame or treachery or treason.”
Now by chance there was at that time a poor knight with King Arthur, who had been prisoner at his court for half a year and more, charged with slaying unawares a knight who was a cousin of the king’s. He was named Balin le Savage, and had been by the good offices of the barons delivered from prison, for he was of good and valiant address and gentle blood. He being secretly present at the court saw this adventure, and felt his heart rise high within him, and longed to try the sword as did the others; but being poor and poorly clad, he was ashamed to come forward in the press of knights and nobles. But in his heart he felt assured that he could do better—if Heaven willed—than any knight among them all.
So as the damsel left the king, he called to her and said, “Damsel, I pray thee of thy courtesy, suffer me to try the sword as well as all these lords; for though I be but poorly clad, I feel assurance in my heart.”
The damsel looking at him, saw in him a likely an honest man, but because of his poor garments could not think him to be any knight of worship, and said, “Sir, there is no need to put me to any more pain or labour; why shouldst thou succeed where so many worthy ones have failed?”
“Ah, fair lady,” answered Balin, “worthiness and brave deeds are not shown by fair raiment, but manhood and truth lie hid within the heart. There be many worshipful knights unknown to all the people.”
“By my faith, thou sayest truth,” replied the damsel; “try therefore, if thou wilt,