THE DEEDS AND DEATH OF BALIN

WHILE the king was yet holding high festival in Camelot, before he was married to Guenever, there happened another adventure. As Arthur was sitting one day in the great hall of the palace, holding council with his barons, there came a damsel bearing to him a message from the great Lady Lyle of Avallon. She wore a mantle richly furred; and when she let it drop from her shoulders, it was seen that at her side she wore a noble sword. At this the king marvelled, and said,—

“Damsel, for what cause art thou girt with that sword? Such gear befits not a lady.”

“Sir,” answered the damsel, “this sword I carry not with any good will of mine own. It is to me a cause of great sorrow; but I cannot be delivered of it save by a good knight, who must be not only strong of his hands, but clean of any shame with man or woman. If I can find such a knight, then may he draw the sword from the scabbard, and so shall I be rid of the enchantment that belongs to it. But never yet have I found any knight that could draw the sword. One time I was at the court of King Rience, because I had heard that there were many noble knights; but though he and all his court essayed it, there was not one that could prevail.”

When King Arthur heard this he marvelled still more.

“Damsel,” he said, “I will myself essay to draw out the sword, not presuming upon myself that I am the best knight, but to give example to my barons, that they also may essay it.”

So the king took the sword by the hilt, and pulled eagerly at it, but it came not forth.

“Sir,” said the damsel, “you need not pull at it half so hard, for he that shall draw it forth will be able to do so with little might.”

“Then,” answered Arthur smiling—though in truth he did not well like his misadventure—“this achievement is not for me. So now, my barons, let all of you essay it; but beware that ye are not defiled with shame, treachery, or guile.”

“That will not be enough,” said the damsel; “for he that draweth the sword must be mighty of his hands as well as a clean knight, and of noble descent, both on the father’s and mother’s side.”

Then all the knights and barons that were at that time about King Arthur essayed the sword; but when all of them had striven, it still remained fast in the scabbard. Then the damsel made great moan, saying that she had thought in this court to find a good knight that was without defilement.

“Well,” said the king, “by my faith I have here as good knights as any that are in the world at this time, but it seems there is not any of them that has grace to help you.”

Now it happened that there was in the hall at that time a poor knight of Northumberland, named Balin le Savage, who did not belong to Arthur’s court, but had been kept prisoner by the king for some time for having slain a knight of his kin. But though he had no estate, yet was he of good blood and of great prowess; and some of the barons had obtained his pardon, because it was in fair fight that he had killed the knight for whose death he was imprisoned. And he stood and watched the king and all his barons essay the sword; and when none of them could achieve it, he greatly desired to attempt it in his turn, but was ashamed to stand forward because, having but just come out of prison, he was in mean attire. But at last, when the damsel had made her obeisance to King Arthur and the lords, and was about to leave the hall, Balin took heart, and said to her,—

“Damsel, I pray you of your courtesy to suffer me to essay that sword; for though I be poorly clothed, yet am I a knight, and it may happen that the adventure shall fall to me.”

Then the damsel looked at him, and saw that he was a likely man of his body; but because of his mean array she could not believe him to be a man of high lineage without shame. So she said,—

“Sir, there is no need to put me to further trouble in this matter, for there is scant likelihood that you will speed well where so many great lords and brave knights have failed.”

But Balin answered her that worthiness and manhood were not in raiment, but in him that wore it; and again he besought her to essay the sword. So without more words she assented, and, lo! when he took the hilt in his hand he drew forth the sword easily. The king and all his barons marvelled much that Balin should have been able to do that which they could not, and some of the knights were passing wroth.

“Truly,” said the damsel, “thou art the best knight that ever I found, and the most of worship, without any shame or treachery, and many marvellous deeds wilt thou accomplish gentle and courteous knight,” she said, “give me the sword again.”

But Balin found the sword exceedingly fair to look upon, and he would not give it up. The damsel entreated him, and warned him that it would bring about his destruction; but of that he took no heed, so she left the court, sorrowing much that he would not give her the sword again. Then Balin got his armour and his horse, and made ready to ride forth. The king begged him to stay in his court, promising to make amends for all the harm he had done him, and to give him advancement. Balin thanked him for his graciousness, but said that at that time he must depart.

But while Balin was making ready, there came into the hall that lady of the lake who had given to King Arthur his sword Excalibur. She entered on horseback, richly clad, and saluted the king, and said she had come to claim the boon he had promised her.

“Ask what you will,” answered the king, “and you shall have it, if it be in my power to give it.”

“Well,” said the lady, “I ask the head of that knight who hath won the sword, or else the head of the damsel that brought it; and though I have both their heads I shall sorrow, for he slew my brother, who was a good knight and true, and that damsel was the cause of my father’s death.”

“Truly,” replied King Arthur, “I cannot grant you the head of either of them with honour; therefore ask what else you will, and I shall fulfil your desire.”

But the lady would not ask nor have anything else. And now it chanced that Balin saw her, and she was his worst enemy, for she had brought about the death of his mother. When it was told him that she had asked his head of the king, he was exceedingly wrathful. He went straight up to her, and said,—

“Evil be thou found! Thou wouldst have my head, and therefore shalt thou lose thine own.” And suddenly he raised the sword and struck off her head in presence of the king and all the court.

Then the king was full of anger against Balin, and reproached him sharply. Balin excused himself as well as he could, saying that the lady had, by witchcraft, been the destroyer of many good knights, and that she had been the means of the death of his mother. But Arthur answered him full sternly, “Whatsoever cause of complaint you had against her, you should have forborne her in my presence. Such a despite was never before done me in my court, and therefore you will do well to begone with what speed you may.”

So the dead lady was buried with great pomp, and Balin set forth sorrowfully because of the king’s anger. Now there was at the court a knight named Sir Lanceor, the son of a king in Ireland. He was very proud, and counted himself one of the best knights, and he had a spite at Balin because of the achievement of the sword Therefore he asked leave of the king to ride after Balin and avenge the despite that that knight had done. The king granted his request, and bade him do his best, for he wished that Balin might be punished for the deed he had wrought.

Sir Lanceor armed himself, and took spear and shield, and rode hotly after Balin. After a while he came in sight of him, and called upon him to stop. When Balin heard him he turned his horse, and asked him if he desired to joust.

“Yes,” answered the knight. “For that cause am I come.”

“Peradventure,” said Balin, “you had done better to stay at home, for many a man who seeks to put his enemy to rebuke is himself put to shame. But whence come you?”

“I come from the court of King Arthur,” said the knight of Ireland, “to avenge the insult you have given there this day.”

“I should be loath to have ado with you,” answered Balin, “for I would not give more offence to the king than there is already. Moreover, there is not need for you to take up the quarrel of that lady that I slew, for she was an enemy to all good knights.”

“Make you ready,” said Sir Lanceor, “and meet me, for one of us shall abide in the field.”

It befell as he had said; for when the two knights encountered, Sir Lanceor broke his spear on Balin’s shield. But Balin gave so fierce a thrust that he ran his spear through the other’s armour and the middle of his body, and he fell back dead from his horse. Immediately thereafter Sir Lanceor’s damsel came up, and when she saw him dead she grieved out of measure, and before Balin could prevent it she had killed herself with her lover’s sword; at which piteous sight Balin was right sorrowful. While he stood there, there came up to him another knight, and when he approached, Balin knew from the arms he bore that it was his brother Balan, who was well-nigh of as much prowess as himself. They were heartily rejoiced to meet; and while they were telling each other their adventures, there passed by a knight called King Marke of Cornwall. When he saw Lanceor and his damsel lying dead, he made inquiry as to the cause, and Balin told him. King Marke was filled with pity that such true lovers should have ended thus sadly, and he pitched his tent at that place, and caused his squires to put the dead knight and lady in a rich tomb, on the which he had this inscription written: “Here lieth Lanceor, a king’s son of Ireland, that at his own request was slain by the hands of Balin; and his lady Colombe, who slew herself with her lover’s sword out of dole and sorrow.” While King Marke was erecting the tomb, Merlin came, and foretold that at that place there should hereafter be a great battle betwixt the two best knights of the world. Also he warned Balin that, because of the death of the lady Colombe, he should strike the most dolorous stroke that ever man struck since the death of our Lord, for it would cause three kingdoms to be in great poverty, misery, and wretchedness for twelve years. Therewith Merlin suddenly vanished; and so Balin and Balan rode on their way, and had many adventures together. But after a while they separated, and each sought adventures for himself.

Within a day or two Balin came where King Arthur, feeling weary of his life in court, had set up a pavilion in a meadow, and was lying therein on a pallet. Just before Balin came, a knight had passed making great sorrow; and when the king had asked him the cause, he had refused to tell it. So after Balin had courteously saluted the king, Arthur asked him to go after that knight, and make him return either of his own good will or by force. This Balin readily undertook, and rode after the knight, whom he found with a damsel in a forest. When Balin bade him return, at first he would not; but when Balin made ready to fight, he consented, and rode back, leaving the damsel behind him. But just as they reached the king’s pavilion, suddenly there came one invisible and smote the stranger-knight through the body with a spear.

“Alas!” said the knight, “now am I done to death while under your conduct and guard. He that has slain me is a traitorous knight named Garlon, that goes always invisible. I pray you ride with the damsel, and follow the quest that I was in, where she will lead you, and avenge my death when you may.”

This Balin swore to do, and then departed; and King Arthur caused the murdered knight, whose name was Sir Herleus le Berbeus, to be honourably buried.

Balin rode on with the damsel, and as they journeyed through the forest, a worthy knight named Sir Perin de Mountbeliard, who had been hunting, met and saluted them, and asked Balin why he seemed so sorrowful. When he had heard the story, he proffered to go with them; but as they were all three of them riding past a hermitage, the false knight Garlon again came invisible and struck down Sir Perin, even as he had slain Sir Berleus. Then the hermit and Balin buried him, and placed a tomb over him; and after that Balin and the damsel continued their journey. At nightfall they came to a castle, and as the gates were open, they went up with intent to enter and spend the night there. Balin went first, and as soon as he had ridden within the gate, the portcullis was suddenly dropped behind him, and at the same time many men rushed out of an ambush and seized the damsel. When Balin saw that he could not ride back to her help he dismounted, got upon the wall, and leaped down into the ditch. Then he drew his sword and rushed upon the men that were about the damsel. But they were no more than squires and churls, and they would not fight him, but said that they were only observing the custom of the castle. Their lady was sick of a disease which had held her many years, and she might not be made whole save by a silver dish full of blood taken from a clean maid and king’s daughter; and thus no maid was allowed to pass the castle without being bled.

“Well,” said Balin, “she may give you as much of her blood as she will, but she shall not give more while I have life to defend her.”

But the damsel of her own free will gave them a silver dish full of her blood, and though it did not help the lady, she and Balin were entertained in the castle all night, and had right good cheer. The next day they continued their journey, and at night rested with a knight that had a great castle and kept a rich table. While they sat at supper Balin heard some one crying as if in pain, and he asked what was the matter.

“I will tell you,” said his host. “I was lately at a tournament, and jousted twice with a knight who is brother to King Pellam, and twice I smote him down. Then he promised to have vengeance on my best friend, and he has sore wounded my son, who cannot be healed till I have some of that knight’s blood. He often rides invisible, but I do not know his name.”

“But I know it,” answered Balin. “His name is Garlon, and by his treachery he has slain two knights that were with me. I had rather meet with him than have all the gold in this realm.” The other then told him that King Pellam had appointed to hold a great feast at his city of Listenise, and that if they went thither they should see his brother Garlon. At hearing this Balin was blithe, and the next day they set out. After a long journey they reached Listenise, and were well received at the king’s castle. Balin was led to a chamber where they unarmed him, gave him rich robes, and would have taken his sword from him, but he would not consent, for he said it was the custom in his country for a knight always to keep his sword at his side. So he was allowed to keep his sword; and then he went down into the great hall with his damsel, and was set at the high table. Soon Balin asked a knight if there was not a lord in that court named Garlon. The other said yes, and pointed out Garlon where he sat. Balin gazed earnestly at him, pondering what he should do; for to set on him before all those knights would, he thought, be perilous. But Garlon, when he saw how Balin looked at him, went up to him and smote him on the face with the back of his hand, saying,—

“Knight, why dost thou behold me in such fashion? For shame eat thy meat, and do that for which thou earnest hither.”

“Thou sayest well,” answered Balin. “This is not the first despite thou hast done me, and therefore I will do that for which I came.”

Then he rose up and smote Garlon with his sword so fiercely as to cleave his head to the shoulders. Then he called the knight who had brought him to Listenise, and said he might now get blood enough to heal his son.

But all the knights rose up from the table to smite Balin, and King Pellam cried, “Knight, why hast thou slain my brother? For this deed shalt thou die.”

“Well,” said Balin, “do thou thyself slay me.”

“Yes,” the king cried fiercely, “none other but myself shall have to do with thee, for my brother’s sake.”

So all the other knights stood back, and King Pellam came right fiercely at Balin with an iron mace. Balin warded the blow with his sword, but the heavy mace shivered the sword to pieces in his hand. Then he turned about, and ran about the chamber seeking a weapon, but could find none. So he fled into another chamber, still looking for a weapon, and King Pellam followed after; and at last Balin came to a great chamber that was splendidly garnished, and in it stood a bed arrayed with cloth of gold of the richest sort. By the bed was a table of pure gold standing on four silver pillars, and on the table stood a marvellous spear, strangely wrought. Balin seized it without regarding aught but the peril he was in. Then he turned on King Pellam, who was following hard after him, and smote him with the spear. Immediately the king sank down in a swoon as though he had been dead, and the castle walls were riven and fell in ruins. Few of all the great company that were within them escaped; for the spear with which Balin had wounded King Pellam was the same with which our Lord was wounded on the cross, and now Balin had struck the dolorous stroke of which Merlin had forewarned him. For three days Balin lay insensible within the ruins; and then Merlin came to him and restored him, and got him a good horse, and bade him ride out of that country. Balin would have taken his damsel with him, but she had perished in the falling of the castle. For twelve years King Pellam suffered grievously from the wound Balin had given him, and could never be healed till the good prince Galahad healed him in the quest of the Holy Grail; and through this same stroke all King Pellams countries were suddenly reduced to great misery.

As for Balin, he rode on his way with a heavy heart, and had some other adventures, the which need not be recounted here; for as it had been aforetime, ever since he took the sword from the damsel in King Arthur’s court, he brought nothing but woe to all that had to do with him, albeit he was ever pure in his life and did all knightly. At last he came to a castle where there were many knights and ladies, and they greeted him right nobly. But after he had been thus entertained, the chief lady of the castle told him that he must joust with a knight who kept an island close by, for it was a custom of the castle that no man might pass except he jousted.

“It is an unhappy custom,” said Balin, “that I must joust whether I be willing or not. However, since so it is, I am ready. Though my horse be weary with travel, my heart is not weary; but I should grieve little if I were going to my death,” For he saw that the curse of the sword he had taken abode ever with him.

“Sir,” said one of the knights of the castle, “methinks your shield is not good. I will lend you a better.” And he gave Balin a shield with a strange device, and Balin left behind him his own shield, which bore his arms. Then he rode to meet the knight with whom he was to joust, who came forth armed all in red. This was none other than his brother Balan, but he knew not Balin because of the strange device on his shield. So the two knights ran together with such might that both were overthrown. After that they drew their swords and fought for a long time with such might and hardihood as had never before been seen, and each gave the other mortal wounds. At last Balan withdrew a little and lay down on the ground, that was all wet with the blood of both.

“What knight art thou?” said Balin. “Never before now found I any knight that matched me as thou hast done.”

The other answered him, “I am Balan, brother to the good knight Balin le Savage.”

“Alas!” said Balin, “that ever I should see this day.” And he fell back in a swoon.

Then Balan crept to him and unloosed his helmet, and found that it was his brother. When Balin came to himself again, both lamented sorely, and Balin told how a knight of the castle had changed shields with him, so that Balan should not know him. Within a little while both of them died, and the chief lady of the castle caused both to be buried in one tomb. On the morrow Merlin came, and wrote on the tomb an inscription in letters of gold, telling how Balin le Savage, that had achieved the sword and struck the dolorous stroke, lay there with his brother, the two having met in mortal combat without knowing each other. Merlin also wrought many marvellous enchantments at the tomb, and predicted that Balin’s sword should come into the hands of the best knight of the world.

Thus piteously died Balin le Savage, who was as good a knight as any that lived in his days, and a man of great nobleness, but who ever brought sorrow to others and to himself after he had kept the sword which he achieved before King Arthur.