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Mark
Twain - A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
Chapter 9
THE TOURNAMENT
THEY were always having grand tournaments there at Camelot; and
very stirring and picturesque and ridiculous human bull-fights they
were, too, but just a little wearisome to the practical mind. However,
I was generally on hand -- for two reasons: a man must not hold himself
aloof from the things which his friends and his community have at
heart if he would be liked -- especially as a statesman; and both
as business man and statesman I wanted to study the tournament and
see if I couldn't invent an improvement on it. That reminds me to
remark, in passing, that the very first official thing I did, in my
administration -- and it was on the very first day of it, too -- was
to start a patent office; for I knew that a country without a patent
office and good patent laws was just a crab, and couldn't travel any
way but sideways or backways.
Things ran along, a tournament nearly every week; and now and then
the boys used to want me to take a hand -- I mean Sir Launcelot and
the rest -- but I said I would by and by; no hurry yet, and too much
government machinery to oil up and set to rights and start a-going.
We had one tournament which was continued from day to day during
more than a week, and as many as five hundred knights took part in
it, from first to last. They were weeks gathering. They came on horseback
from everywhere; from the very ends of the country, and even from
beyond the sea; and many brought ladies, and all brought squires and
troops of servants. It was a most gaudy and gorgeous crowd, as to
costumery, and very characteristic of the country and the time, in
the way of high animal spirits, innocent indecencies of language,
and happy-hearted indifference to morals. It was fight or look on,
all day and every day; and sing, gamble, dance, carouse half the night
every night. They had a most noble good time. You never saw such people.
Those banks of beautiful ladies, shining in their barbaric splendors,
would see a knight sprawl from his horse in the lists with a lance-shaft
the thickness of your ankle clean through him and the blood spouting,
and instead of fainting they would clap their hands and crowd each
other for a better view; only sometimes one would dive into her handkerchief,
and look ostentatiously broken-hearted, and then you could lay two
to one that there was a scandal there somewhere and she was afraid
the public hadn't found it out.
The noise at night would have been annoying to me ordinarily, but
I didn't mind it in the present circumstances, because it kept me
from hearing the quacks detaching legs and arms from the day's cripples.
They ruined an uncommon good old cross-cut saw for me, and broke the
saw-buck, too, but I let it pass. And as for my axe -- well, I made
up my mind that the next time I lent an axe to a surgeon I would pick
my century.
I not only watched this tournament from day to day, but detailed
an intelligent priest from my Department of Public Morals and Agriculture,
and ordered him to report it; for it was my purpose by and by, when
I should have gotten the people along far enough, to start a newspaper.
The first thing you want in a new country, is a patent office; then
work up your school system; and after that, out with your paper. A
newspaper has its faults, and plenty of them, but no matter, it's
hark from the tomb for a dead nation, and don't you forget it. You
can't resurrect a dead nation without it; there isn't any way. So
I wanted to sample things, and be finding out what sort of reporter-material
I might be able to rake together out of the sixth century when I should
come to need it.
Well, the priest did very well, considering. He got in all the details,
and that is a good thing in a local item: you see, he had kept books
for the undertaker-department of his church when he was younger, and
there, you know, the money's in the details; the more details, the
more swag: bearers, mutes, candles, prayers -- everything counts;
and if the bereaved don't buy prayers enough you mark up your candles
with a forked pencil, and your bill shows up all right. And he had
a good knack at getting in the complimentary thing here and there
about a knight that was likely to advertise -- no, I mean a knight
that had influence; and he also had a neat gift of exaggeration, for
in his time he had kept door for a pious hermit who lived in a sty
and worked miracles.
Of course this novice's report lacked whoop and crash and lurid
description, and therefore wanted the true ring; but its antique wording
was quaint and sweet and simple, and full of the fragrances and flavors
of the time, and these little merits made up in a measure for its
more important lacks. Here is an extract from it:
Then Sir Brian de les Isles and Grummore Grummorsum, knights of
the castle, encountered with Sir Aglovale and Sir Tor, and Sir Tor
smote down Sir Grummore Grummorsum to the earth. Then came Sir Carados
of the dolorous tower, and Sir Turquine, knights of the castle, and
there encountered with them Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Lamorak
de Galis, that were two brethren, and there encountered Sir Percivale
with Sir Carados, and either brake their spears unto their hands,
and then Sir Turquine with Sir Lamorak, and either of them smote down
other, horse and all, to the earth, and either parties rescued other
and horsed them again. And Sir Arnold, and Sir Gauter, knights of
the castle, encountered with Sir Brandiles and Sir Kay, and these
four knights encountered mightily, and brake their spears to their
hands. Then came Sir Pertolope from the castle, and there encountered
with him Sir Lionel, and there Sir Pertolope the green knight smote
down Sir Lionel, brother to Sir Launcelot. All this was marked by
noble heralds, who bare him best, and their names. Then Sir Bleobaris
brake his spear upon Sir Gareth, but of that stroke Sir Bleobaris
fell to the earth. When Sir Galihodin saw that, he bad Sir Gareth
keep him, and Sir Gareth smote him to the earth. Then Sir Galihud
gat a spear to avenge his brother, and in the same wise Sir Gareth
served him, and Sir Dinadan and his brother La Cote Male Taile, and
Sir Sagramore le Disirous, and Sir Dodinas le Savage; all these he
bare down with one spear. When King Aswisance of Ireland saw Sir Gareth
fare so he marvelled what he might be, that one time seemed green,
and another time, at his again coming, he seemed blue. And thus at
every course that he rode to and fro he changed his color, so that
there might neither king nor knight have ready cognizance of him.
Then Sir Agwisance the King of Ireland encountered with Sir Gareth,
and there Sir Gareth smote him from his horse, saddle and all. And
then came King Carados of Scotland, and Sir Gareth smote him down
horse and man. And in the same wise he served King Uriens of the land
of Gore. And then there came in Six Bagdemagus, and Sir Gareth smote
him down horse and man to the earth. And Bagdemagus's son Meliganus
brake a spear upon Sir Gareth mightily and knightly. And then Sir
Galahault the noble prince cried on high, Knight with the many colors,
well hast thou justed; now make thee ready that I may just with thee.
Sir Gareth heard him, and he gat a great spear, and so they encountered
together, and there the prince brake his spear; but Sir Gareth smote
him upon the left side of the helm, that he reeled here and there,
and he had fallen down had not his men recovered him. Truly, said
King Arthur, that knight with the many colors is a good knight. Wherefore
the king called unto him Sir Launcelot, and prayed him to encounter
with that knight. Sir, said Launcelot, I may as well find in my heart
for to forbear him at this time, for he hath had travail enough this
day, and when a good knight doth so well upon some day, it is no good
knight's part to let him of his worship, and, namely, when he seeth
a knight hath done so great labour; for peradventure, said Sir Launcelot,
his quarrel is here this day, and peradventure he is best beloved
with this lady of all that be here, for I see well he paineth himself
and enforceth him to do great deeds, and therefore, said Sir Launcelot,
as for me, this day he shall have the honour; though it lay in my
power to put him from it, I would not.
There was an unpleasant little episode that day, which for reasons
of state I struck out of my priest's report. You will have noticed
that Garry was doing some great fighting in the engagement. When I
say Garry I mean Sir Gareth. Garry was my private pet name for him;
it suggests that I had a deep affection for him, and that was the
case. But it was a private pet name only, and never spoken aloud to
any one, much less to him; being a noble, he would not have endured
a familiarity like that from me. Well, to proceed: I sat in the private
box set apart for me as the king's minister. While Sir Dinadan was
waiting for his turn to enter the lists, he came in there and sat
down and began to talk; for he was always making up to me, because
I was a stranger and he liked to have a fresh market for his jokes,
the most of them having reached that stage of wear where the teller
has to do the laughing himself while the other person looks sick.
I had always responded to his efforts as well as I could, and felt
a very deep and real kindness for him, too, for the reason that if
by malice of fate he knew the one particular anecdote which I had
heard oftenest and had most hated and most loathed all my life, he
had at least spared it me. It was one which I had heard attributed
to every humorous person who had ever stood on American soil, from
Columbus down to Artemus Ward. It was about a humorous lecturer who
flooded an ignorant audience with the killingest jokes for an hour
and never got a laugh; and then when he was leaving, some gray simpletons
wrung him gratefully by the hand and said it had been the funniest
thing they had ever heard, and "it was all they could do to keep
from laughin' right out in meetin'." That anecdote never saw
the day that it was worth the telling; and yet I had sat under the
telling of it hundreds and thousands and millions and billions of
times, and cried and cursed all the way through. Then who can hope
to know what my feelings were, to hear this armor-plated ass start
in on it again, in the murky twilight of tradition, before the dawn
of history, while even Lactantius might be referred to as "the
late Lactantius," and the Crusades wouldn't be born for five
hundred years yet? Just as he finished, the call-boy came; so, haw-hawing
like a demon, he went rattling and clanking out like a crate of loose
castings, and I knew nothing more. It was some minutes before I came
to, and then I opened my eyes just in time to see Sir Gareth fetch
him an awful welt, and I unconsciously out with the prayer, "I
hope to gracious he's killed!" But by ill-luck, before I had
got half through with the words, Sir Gareth crashed into Sir Sagramor
le Desirous and sent him thundering over his horse's crupper, and
Sir Sagramor caught my remark and thought I meant it for him.
Well, whenever one of those people got a thing into his head, there
was no getting it out again. I knew that, so I saved my breath, and
offered no explanations. As soon as Sir Sagramor got well, he notified
me that there was a little account to settle between us, and he named
a day three or four years in the future; place of settlement, the
lists where the offense had been given. I said I would be ready when
he got back. You see, he was going for the Holy Grail. The boys all
took a flier at the Holy Grail now and then. It was a several years'
cruise. They always put in the long absence snooping around, in the
most conscientious way, though none of them had any idea where the
Holy Grail really was, and I don't think any of them actually expected
to find it, or would have known what to do with it if he had run across
it. You see, it was just the Northwest Passage of that day, as you
may say; that was all. Every year expeditions went out holy grailing,
and next year relief expeditions went out to hunt for them. There
was worlds of reputation in it, but no money. Why, they actually wanted
me to put in! Well, I should smile.
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