Thomas Malory (1405 – 1471)
English author.
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It befell in the days of Uther Pendragon, when he was king of all England, and so reigned, that there was a mighty duke in Cornwall that held war against him long time. And the duke was called the duke of Tintagil.
Well, said Merlin, I know whom thou seekest, for thou seekest Merlin; therefore seek no farther, for I am he.
Then Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed.
I shall curse you with book and bell and candle.
In the midst of the lake Arthur was are of an arm clothed in white samite, that held a fair sword in that hand.
Thou Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly knight's hand. And thou were the courteoust knight that ever bare shield. And thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrad horse. And thou were the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman. And thou were the kindest man that ever struck with sword. And thou were the goodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou were the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies. And thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest.
Always Sir Arthur lost so much blood that it was a marvel he stood on his feet, but he was so full of knighthood that knightly he endured the pain.
Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise King born of all England.
Nowadays men cannot love seven night but they must have all their desires: that love may not endure by reason; for where they be soon accorded and hasty, heat soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love nowadays, soon hot soon cold: this is no stability. But the old love was not so.
For as well as I have loved thee, mine heart will not serve me to see thee, for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed.
Through this man (Launcelot) and me (Guenever) hath all this war been wrought, and the death of the most noblest knights of the world; for through our love that we have loved together is my most noble lord slain.
Knight, keep well thy head, for thou shalt have a buffet for the slaying of my horse.
The joy of love is too short, and the sorrow thereof, and what cometh thereof, dureth over long.
The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit; for like as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and flourish in May, in likewise every lusty heart that is in any manner a lover, springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth unto all lovers courage, that lusty month of May.
With that truncheon thou hast slain a good knight, and now it sticketh in thy body.
All ye that be lovers call unto your remembrance the month of May, like as did Queen Guenever, for whom I make here a little mention, that while she lived she was a true lover, and therefore she had a good end.
What, nephew, said the king, is the wind in that door?
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