Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX.
THE STORY OF LAUNCELOT.- QUEEN GUENEVER'S PERIL. IT happened at this time that Queen Guenever was thrown into great
peril of her life. A certain squire who was in her immediate
service, having some cause of animosity to Sir Gawain, determined to
destroy him by poison at a public entertainment. For this purpose he
concealed the poison in an apple of fine appearance, which he placed
on the top of several others, and put the dish before the queen,
hoping that, as Sir Gawain was the knight of greatest dignity, she
would present the apple to him. But it happened that a Scottish knight
of high distinction, who arrived on that day, was seated next to the
queen, and to him, as a stranger, she presented the apple, which he
had no sooner eaten than he was seized with dreadful pain, and fell
senseless. The whole court was of course thrown into confusion; the
knights rose from table, darting looks of indignation at the
wretched queen, whose tears and protestations were unable to remove
their suspicions. In spite of all that could be done the knight
died, and nothing remained but to order a magnificent funeral and
monument for him, which was done.
Some time after, Sir Mador, brother of the murdered knight,
arrived at Arthur's court in quest of him. While hunting in the forest
he by chance came to the spot where the monument was erected, read the
inscription, and returned to court determined on immediate and
signal vengeance. He rode into the hall, loudly accused the queen of
treason, and insisted on her being given up to punishment, unless
she should find, by a certain day, a knight hardy enough to risk his
life in support of her innocence. Arthur, powerful as he was, did
not dare to deny the appeal, but was compelled, with a heavy heart, to
accept it, and Mador sternly took his departure, leaving the royal
couple plunged in terror and anxiety.
During all this time Launcelot was absent, and no one knew where
he was. He had fled in anger from his fair mistress, upon being
reproached by her with his passion for the Lady of Shalott, which
she had hastily inferred from his wearing her scarf at the tournament.
He took up his abode with a hermit in the forest, and resolved to
think no more of the cruel beauty, whose conduct he thought must
flow from a wish to get rid of him. Yet calm reflection had somewhat
cooled his indignation, and he had begun to wish, though hardly able
to hope, for a reconciliation, when the news of Sir Mador's
challenge fortunately reached his ears. The intelligence revived his
spirits, and he began to prepare with the utmost cheerfulness for a
contest which, if successful, would insure him at once the affection
of his mistress and the gratitude of his sovereign.
The sad fate of