ly dawn, and
smelt the sweet of the year, and gathered flowers which they stuck in
their girdles and doublets. The Queen was as happy and light of heart
as the youngest maiden, but she had promised to be with the King at
the hour of ten, and gave the signal for departure unwillingly. The
Knights were mounting their horses, when suddenly out of a wood on the
other side rode Sir Meliagraunce, who for many years had loved the
Queen, and had sought an occasion to carry her off, but found none so
fair as this. Out of the forest he rode, with two score men in armour,
and a hundred archers behind him, and bade the Queen and her followers
stay where they were, or they would fare badly. 'Traitor,' cried the
Queen, 'what evil deed would you do? You are a King's son and a Knight
of the Round Table, yet you seek to shame the man who gave you
knighthood. But I tell you that you may bring dishonour on yourself,
but you will bring none on me, for rather would I cut my throat in
twain.'

'As for your threats, Madam, I pay them no heed,' returned Sir
Meliagraunce; 'I have loved you many a year, and never could I get you
at such an advantage as I do now, and therefore I will take you as I
find you.' Then all the Knights spoke together saying, 'Sir
Meliagraunce, bethink yourself that in attacking men who are unarmed
you put not only our lives in peril but your own honour. Rather than
allow the Queen to be shamed we will each one fight to the death, and
if we did aught else we should dishonour our knighthood for ever.'

'Fight as well as you can,' answered Sir Meliagraunce, 'and keep the
Queen if you may.' So the Knights of the Round Table drew their
swords, and the men of Sir Meliagraunce ran at them with spears; but
the Knights stood fast, and clove the spears in two before they
touched them. Then both sides fought with swords, and Sir Kay and five
other Knights were felled to the ground with wounds all over their
bodies. The other four fought long, and slew forty of the men and
archers of Sir Meliagraunce; but in the end they too were overcome.
When the Queen saw that she cried out for pity and sorrow, 'Sir
Meliagraunce, spare my noble Knights and I will go with you quietly
on this condition, that their lives be saved, and that wherever you
may carry me they shall follow. For I give you warning that I would
rather slay myself than go with you without my Knights, whose duty it
is to guard me.'

'Madam,' replied Sir Meliagraunce, 'for