How Sir Launcelot saved the life of Sir Blyant.  How he escaped from the castle of Sir Blyant, and how he slew the great wild boar of Lystenesse and saved the life of King Arthur, his liege lord.

Now it happened upon a day that Sir Blyant rode in a little wood nigh to his castle, and whilst he was thus alone he beheld two knights riding side by side all in the clear bright springtime.  As these drew nigh to him Sir Blyant was aware from the devices upon their shields that one of them was Sir Breuce sans Pitié and that the other was Sir Bertolet his brother, which same, you are to know, were Sir Blyant’s bitter enemies.  For in the tournament at Astolat Sir Blyant had very grievously hurt a young knight who was their brother, and afterward that knight (whose name was Sir Gelotius) had died of those hurts.

Yet though Sir Blyant wist that this meeting boded ill for him yet would he not withdraw therefrom but went forward.  So it came about that when he was pretty close to those two knights, the foremost of them (who was Sir Breuce sans Pitié) rode forth and bespoke him, saying, “Sir Knight, who are you and whither go you?” Sir Blyant said:  “Messires, I am a knight of these marches, riding errant in search of adventure.”  Sir Breuce said, “Art thou not Sir Blyant of the White Castle?” Sir Blyant said, “Thou sayest it and I am he.”

Then Sir Breuce sans Pitié spoke very savagely, saying:  “Sir Knight, this is well that we meet you here who are the slayer of our brother Sir Gelotius at the tournament of Astolat.”  To this Sir Blyant said:  “Messires, what do you have against me for that?  Certes, it is that I overthrew Sir Gelotius and that he died thereafter, yet it was by chance of battle that this happened and with no evil intent of mine.  Moreover, your brother, Sir Gelotius, took his chances of battle as did all those who entered that tournament.”

“Say no more!” said Sir Breuce.  “Say no more! but prepare you straight for battle with us who have every day sought you from that time till now, and so have found you here to our hand.”

“Messires,” cried Sir Blyant, “would you fall upon me thus, two against one?” They say, “Aye,” and thereupon they drew sword and prepared themselves for battle.

Then Sir Blyant perceiving how it was, and that there was no other way for him to do than to fight this battle against odds, straightway drew his sword and put himself into posture of defence.  Then in a moment they three came to battle together in the woods, two of them against the one.

Yet, for a while, although he stood one to two, Sir Blyant defended himself with great courage and address, striking now upon this side and now upon that, anon wheeling his horse away from a stroke, anon lashing a stroke at his enemies.  And so great was the defence he made that it was a long time ere that those two knights had their will of him.

But one knight could not hope to fight thus a continued battle against two who were his equals, wherefore it befell that in a little while Sir Blyant was wounded here and there, and in another place; and then, in a little while longer it came about that, what with weariness and what from the loss of blood, he was aware that he must die in that battle alone in the woodlands unless he saved himself from his enemies.

Therewith a great despair fell upon him and with that he put his horse straight at Sir Breuce as though to strike him a buffet.  Then as Sir Breuce drew aside to avoid that stroke, Sir Blyant drave his horse very fiercely against Sir Breuce’s horse, so that Sir Breuce’s horse wellnigh fell to the ground with his rider upon his back.  Therewith Sir Blyant thrust past his enemy and quickly fled away toward his castle with all the speed that he could drive his horse to make.

Now at first those two knights were astonished at the sudden escape of their enemy.  But immediately they awoke to his going and so set spurs to horse upon their part and chased after Sir Blyant; and if he sped fast, they sped as fast after him.  And ever and anon they lashed furiously at him, yet because of his speed they could do him no great harm.

So Sir Blyant raced for his castle and he rushed forward beneath the walls of the castle with those two knights thundering after him amain.  And because they were so close upon him, Sir Blyant could not draw rein to turn his steed into the drawbridge of the castle, but must needs rush past the drawbridge, calling for aid to those who were within the walls.

Now at that time Sir Launcelot lay (chained as was aforetold) in a certain window of the castle where the sun shone down strong and warm upon him, and Sir Launcelot slumbered there in the sunlight.  And as Sir Launcelot so slumbered he was aroused by the sound of galloping horses and a loud noise of shouting and the din of lashing of blows.  So, looking forth from that window, he beheld the three knights as they came thundering past the walls of the castle.  And Sir Launcelot beheld that the one knight who was pursued by the two knights was his master, Sir Blyant; and he beheld that Sir Blyant was much put to it to save his life; for he was all covered over with blood and, whilst anon he would wheel his horse and strike right and left, yet anon he would wheel again and flee for his life; and Sir Launcelot beheld that Sir Blyant reeled in his saddle under every blow that his enemies lashed at him.  Meanwhile, in the castle was a great shouting and calling to arms, wherefore it came to Sir Launcelot to know that Sir Blyant was being slain.

Then a great rage of battle awoke in Sir Launcelot’s heart against those who pressed his beloved master, Sir Blyant, in that wise, wherefore he would have hastened to the aid of Sir Blyant, but could not because of the chains that bound him.  Then, in his madness, and being driven furious at being thus bound, Sir Launcelot catched those strong steel chains in his hands and wrestled with them.  And the chains bit deep into his flesh in his wrestlings so that he was sore wounded by the iron.  But in spite of that Sir Launcelot put forth his entire strength, and even though the blood flowed from his arms and hands yet he snapped the chains that bound his arms.  After that he catched up a great stone in his hands and he beat upon the chains that bound his legs and brake those also, and so he was free again.

Then Sir Launcelot leaped upon the window-ledge, and he leaped out of the window of the castle and into the moat below and he swam the moat and so came out upon the other side thereof.

Right there came Sir Blyant striving to defend himself against those who followed him, and at that time he was very nigh falling from his horse at every blow he received.  This Sir Launcelot beheld and when he saw how those two knights ever smote Sir Blyant and how that Sir Blyant reeled in his saddle beneath those blows, he roared aloud in pity and in rage.

Therewith, thus roaring, he straightway rushed upon Sir Bertolet, who was nighest to him, and he leaped up and catched that knight about the body and dragged him down upon the pommel of his saddle with great force of strength, and Sir Launcelot catched the sword of Sir Bertolet and he wrestled with Sir Bertolet and so plucked the sword out of Sir Bertolet’s hand.

Then Sir Bertolet cried out to Sir Breuce:  “Help!  Help! my brother!  For this madman slayeth me.”

Therewith Sir Breuce turned from Sir Blyant for to succor his brother, and upon that Sir Launcelot quitted Sir Bertolet and rushed at Sir Breuce.  And Sir Launcelot gave Sir Breuce such a buffet upon the helm with the sword of Sir Bertolet that he smote Sir Breuce with that one blow clean over the crupper of his horse.

Then Sir Bertolet took his spear in hand and therewith rushed his horse upon Sir Launcelot with intent to pierce him through the body.  But from that assault Sir Launcelot leaped nimbly aside.  Thereupon he rushed in and catched the spear of Sir Bertolet in his hand; and he ran up the length of the spear, and reached forward, and smote Sir Bertolet such a blow that he cut through the epaulier of the shoulder and deep into the shoulder to the very bone thereof, so that the arm of Sir Bertolet was half cut away from the body at that blow.  Then Sir Launcelot would have struck again only that Sir Bertolet let go his spear from his hand, shrieking aloud, and wheeled his horse to escape.

Now by that time Sir Breuce sans Pitié had got him to horse again wherefore, beholding that terrible blow and beholding how his brother Sir Bertolet fled away from that madman, he also drove spurs to flank and fled away with might and main.

So it was that Sir Launcelot, unarmed, save for the sword in his naked hand, defeated two strong and doughty knights and so saved his master’s life.

But by now the castle folk had come running to where were Sir Blyant and him whom they called the mad fool of the castle, and they beheld them both panting and bleeding.  And Sir Blyant looked upon Sir Launcelot and beheld how his arms and hands were torn and bleeding from breaking those chains, and he said, “Poor fool! and hast thou suffered all that for my sake?” And at that Sir Launcelot laughed and nodded.  Then Sir Blyant said to the folk of the castle:  “Never let those chains be put upon his body again, for he is gentle and kind, and meaneth harm to no one.”

So they did not chain Sir Launcelot again, but suffered him to go free, and after that he wandered whithersoever he willed to go, and no one stayed him in his going or his coming.  And ever he was kind and gentle to all so that no one in all that place had any fear of him but all were pleased and merry with him.

Yet ever there lay within the heart of Sir Launcelot some remembrance that told him that he was too worthy to content himself with being a mad fool in a lord’s castle, wherefore it was always in his will to escape from the castle of Sir Blyant if he was able to do so.

So now, being unchained, it happened one night when none observed him, that he dropped privily from the wall of the castle into the moat thereof, and swam the moat to the other side.  And after he had thus escaped into the night he ran on without stopping until he had reached the forest, and there he roamed once more altogether wild as he had been aforetime.  For the remnant of his knighthood said to him that it would be better for him to die alone there in the woodlands than to dwell in shame in a lord’s castle.

Now at that time there was a great wild boar in those parts that was the terror of all men, and this boar was called the boar of Lystenesse-taking its name from that part of the forest which was called the Forest of Lystenesse.

So word of this great wild boar, and news of its ravages came to the ears of King Arthur, whereupon the King ordained that a day should be set apart for a hunt in which the beast should be slain and the countryside set free from the ravages thereof.

Thus it befell that upon a time Sir Launcelot, where he lived in his madness alone in the forest, was aware of the baying of hounds and the shouting of voices sounding ever nearer and nearer to where he was.  Anon the baying of the hounds approached him very near indeed, and presently there came a great cracking and rending of the bushes and the small trees.  Thereupon as he gazed, there burst out of the forest that great savage wild boar of Lystenesse.  And lo! the jowl of that boar was all white with the foam that was churned by his tusks, and the huge tusks of the boar gleamed white in the midst of the foam.  And the bristles of that great beast were like sharp wires of steel, and they too were all flecked with the foam that had fallen from the jowl of the beast.  And the eyes of the wild boar gleamed like to two coals of fire, and it roared like to a devil as it fled, rending, through the forest.  And ever the hounds pursued the boar, hanging upon its flanks but not daring to grapple with it in its flight, because of the terror that surrounded it.

Then when Sir Launcelot beheld that sight the love of the chase flamed up within his heart and thereupon he shouted aloud and fell to running beside the dogs after the boar, tearing his way through the briars and thorns and thickets, even as the boar and the hounds burst through them.  And so Sir Launcelot and the dogs chased the boar for a great while, until at last the beast came to bay, with his back set against a great crag of stone, and there the dogs surrounded it, yelling and baying.  And ever Sir Launcelot shouted them on to the assault, yet not one of the hounds dared to grapple with the wild beast because of the terror of its appearance.

So as Sir Launcelot and the dogs joined in assault about the boar, there came the sound of a horseman riding with speed and winding his horn.  Then in a moment there came King Arthur himself, bursting out of the forest alone; for he had outridden all his court and was the first of all upon the field.

Then King Arthur, beholding the boar where he stood at bay, set his lance in rest with intent to charge the beast and to pierce him through the body.  But the boar, all fierce and mad with the chase it had suffered, did not wait that charge of the King but himself charged the horseman.  And at that charge King Arthur’s horse was affrighted, with the terror of the beast and flung suddenly aside so that the lance of King Arthur failed of its aim.

Therewith the boar ran up under the point of the lance and he catched the horse of the King with his tusks and ripped the horse so that both horse and rider fell to the ground; King Arthur beneath the wounded animal, so that he could not free his leg to rise from his fall.

Then it would have been ill indeed with King Arthur but for that forest madman.  For beholding the fall of the King, Sir Launcelot ran straightway to him.  And he seized the sword of the King and plucked it forth from its sheath.  Therewith he leaped at the boar and lashed at it a mighty buffet, and as he did so his foot slipped in the blood of the horse which there lay upon the ground, and he fell flat with the force of that blow which he purposed should destroy the boar.

Thereupon the boar, finding himself thus attacked by another, turned upon that other and ere Sir Launcelot could arise from his fall it was upon him.  And the boar ripped Sir Launcelot with its tusks through the flesh of the thigh, even to the hip bone.

Now, when Sir Launcelot felt the pang of that dreadful wound which the boar gave him he yelled aloud.  At the same time his soul was filled with a great passion of rage and madness so that, ere the boar could charge him again, he leaped to his feet and rushed upon the boar.  And Sir Launcelot smote the boar such a terrible dreadful stroke that he cut through the bristles of the neck and through the spine of the neck and half-way through the neck itself, so that the head of the boar was wellnigh cut away from its body.

Therewith the boar fell down dead and Sir Launcelot staggered and stood leaning upon the sword, groaning amain with the bitter pangs of pain that racked him.

Right so, as Sir Launcelot stood thus, the other huntsmen of the King’s party came bursting out of the forest with the sound of horses and of shouting voices.

Then when Sir Launcelot beheld them he thought, because of his madness and the raging of his torments, that these were they who had hurt him.  So therewith he roared like to a wild beast and he ran at those newcomers, whirling the sword of King Arthur like lightning around his head.

Then several of those set their lances in rest with intent to run the madman through the body ere he could do a harm to any one, but King Arthur cried out:  “Beware what you do!  Do him no harm, for he hath saved my life.”  So those who would else have charged Sir Launcelot held their hands and drew away in retreat before him.

But already Sir Launcelot’s strength was failing him, for his brains were even then swimming with faintness.  So in a little he sank down in a swoon and lay all of a heap upon the ground.

Then the King, and the others who were there came to where he lay bleeding and swooning, and all looked down upon him, and because he was all naked and unkempt they knew him not.  But nevertheless, they beheld that he was of great girth and that he was covered over with a great many scars of battle, and they all felt deep pity for him as he lay there.  Then King Arthur said:  “This is the framework of a mighty champion.  Pity indeed that he should have come to this as we behold him.”  And he said:  “Lift him up tenderly and bear him hence to where he may have comfort and nourishment.”

So they lifted Sir Launcelot with great gentleness, and they bare him away from that place, and they brought him to the hut of that hermit where he had been healed aforetime when he had received that grievous wound in the tournament at Astolat.

So the hermit received Sir Launcelot and wist not who he was.  For though he beheld that here was a man of mighty girth and stature, yet was the great champion so changed by his madness and by his continued fasting in the forest that even his nearest friends might not know him.  Nevertheless, though the hermit knew him not, yet he had them lay that forest madman upon a cot in his cell, and he searched that wound in the madman’s thigh and bathed it with tepid water, and anointed it with balm and bound it up with bands of smooth white linen, so that that wound was in all ways well searched and dressed.

And the hermit looked upon Sir Launcelot and beheld that he was all gaunt and hollow with hunger and he said:  “If this poor mad creature is not fed, he will die in a little while.”  So when Sir Launcelot had revived him from that swoon, the good old man fetched milk and white bread and offered them to the sick man.  But he would not touch that food.  For, though he was dying of hunger, yet he loathed that food because of his madness.

So Sir Launcelot lay there wounded and famishing and the hermit wist not what to do to make him eat.  And he lay in that wise for three days and ever the hermit watched him and tried to make him partake of food, and ever the madman would fling away from the food that was offered him.

Now upon the fourth day, the hermit being at his orisons in the chapel, Sir Launcelot made assay to rise, and in spite of his weakness, he did arise.  And having thus arisen, he found strength in some wise for to crawl out of the hut of the hermit, and the hermit at his prayers wist not that the wounded man was gone.  And after that Sir Launcelot crept away into the forest and so hid himself, very cunningly, like to a wild creature, so that, though the hermit searched for him ever so closely, yet he was not able to find him.  And the hermit said:  “Alas for this!  For certes this poor madman will die of his wound and of starvation all alone here in the forest, and no one can bring him succor.”

So it was that Sir Launcelot escaped from the cell of the hermit a second time.  And now it remaineth to be told how he returned to Corbin and to the Lady Elaine the Fair, and how the Lady Elaine cherished him and brought him back to health and strength and comeliness again.  So I pray you to read that which followeth if you would fain learn concerning those things.