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 lanceshaft 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 Sir 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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