When Lancelot was kneeling in front of Urre, he said to King Arthur: ‘Need I do this, after everybody has failed?’
‘Of course you must do it. I command you.’
‘If you command me, I must. But it would be presumptuous to try—after everybody. Could I be let off?’
‘You are taking it the wrong way,’ said the King. ‘Of course it is not presumptuous for you to try. If you can’t do it, nobody can.’
Sir Urre, who was weak by now, raised himself on an elbow.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘I came for you to do it.’
Lancelot had tears in his eyes.
‘Oh, Sir Urre,’ he said, ‘if only I could help you, how willingly I would. But you don’t understand, you don’t understand.’
‘For God’s sake,’ said Sir Urre.
Lancelot looked into the East, where he thought God lived, and said something in his mind. It was more or less like this: “I don’t want glory, but please can you save our honesty? And if you will heal this knight for the knight’s sake, please do.” Then he asked Sir Urre to show him his head.
Guenever, who was watching from her pavilion like a hawk, saw the two men fumbling together. Then she saw a movement in the people near, and a mutter came, and yells. Gentlemen began throwing their caps about, and shouting, and shaking hands. Arthur was crying the same words again and again, holding gruff Gawaine by the elbow and putting them into his ear. ‘It shut like a box! It shut like a box!’….In the middle, quite forgotten, her lover was kneeling by himself. This lonely and motionless figure knew a secret which was hidden from the others. The miracle was that he had been allowed to do a miracle. ‘And ever,’ says Malory, ‘Sir Lancelot wept, as he had been a child that had been beaten.’
Quotes
Bot Arthure wolde not ete til al were served,
He was so joly of his joyfnes, and sumquat childgered:
His lif liked hym light, he lovied the lasse
Auther to longe lye or to longe sitte,
So bisied him his yonge blod and his brayne wylde.
gawain and the green knight, 85-89
But Arthur would not eat until all were served.
He brimmed with ebulliance, being almost boyish
in his love of life, and what he liked the least
was to sit still watching the seasons slip by.
His blood was busy and he buzzed with thoughts.
translation by simon armitage
(via likeniobe)
“Arthur, I have a husband,” I [Morgause] said, staring down at my feet.
Arthur sat up beside me. “I will kill him, and I will marry you.”
It was all so simple to him. I shook my head, turning to him beside me. I looked at him sadly. His eyes were bright with the fire of youthful certainty, but he did not know what it was really like in the world of men.
“Morgawse: Queen of the North” by Lavinia Collins
75/100 arthurian random quotes
I really want to hug you, but I don’t want you to turn me into a frog.“ Gwen bit her lip. “Fuck it.” Morgan hugged her tight. And the world didn’t explode. Fancy that.
Desperate Housewives of Avalon (Ambrosia Lane #2) | Saranna DeWylde
9/∞ Arthurian quotes
(via ancelstierre)
I believe that a true knight is neither adulterous or lecherous.
I’m really growing attached to this character, and it’s *really* going to suck when he fails to live up to this standard. (via residinginpurgatory)
There is, for Malory, a perfect symbol for the civil warfare that ensues: the fact that Arthur kills his son, Mordred, just as Mordred kills him; but to this fact, which is basic to the story in his sources, Malory also adds the gruesome but symbolically rich detail that Mordred delivers the fatal blow by thrusting his body along the spear with which Arthur has impaled him. The precision of Malory’s language is fully on display in the way in the way he makes a tiny drama out of this simple sentence by failing to call Arthur Mordred’s “father” until the moment that Mordred actually strikes the fatal blow:
“And whan sir Mordred felte that he had hys dethys wounde he threste hymselff with the myght that he had upp to the burre of kyng Arthurs speare, and ryght so he smote hys fadir, kynge Arthure, with hys swerde.”
That the most natural of human relationships should end in mutual murder is the saddest way Malory finds to describe the ills of the chivalric society he lives in and that he wrote the Morte to reflect. But all that he adds to his sources and all the ways he restructures them allow the Morte to conclude by transforming the standard mystery posed by the story of Arthur (why does such a successful society fall apart so completely?) into an even more interesting question: how did a society in which your enemy looks and behaves exactly like your friend (or your son) ever manage to hold together in the first place?
When you can’t make them see the light, make them feel the heat
The coronation was a splendid ceremony. What was still more splendid, it was like a birthday or Christmas Day. Everybody sent presents to the Wart, for his prowess in having learned to pull swords out of stones, and several burghers of the City of London asked him to help them in taking stoppers out of unruly bottles, unscrewing taps which had got stuck, and in other household emergencies which had got beyond their control.
(via vault-of-quotes)
I did not attend his funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it
I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick. Not wounded. Dead.