1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cJIUn2IWes&feature=relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cJIUn2IWes&feature=related @2:30

2. “holé togydirs” “Now,” seyde the Kynge, “I am sure at this quest of the Sankgreall shall all ye of the Rownde Table departe, and nevyr shall I se you agayne holé togydirs. Therefore ones shall I se you togydir in the medow, all holé togydirs—therefore I will see you all holé togydirs in the medow of Camelot to juste and to turney, that aftir youre deth men may speke of hit that such good knyghtes were here, such a day, holé togydirs.” (501-02) “Alas, “ seyde sir Gawayne to Sir Gareth, “ now ys thys realm holy destroyed and myscheved, and the noble felyship of the Rounde Table shall be desparbeled.” (647) “…And alas,“ seyde the King, “me sore repentith that ever Sir Launcelot sholde be ayenste me, fo now I am sure the noble felyship of the Rounde Table is brokyn for ever, for wyth hym woll many a noble knyght hold….“ (654) “And much more I am soryar for my good knyghtes losse than for the losse of my fayre quene; for quenys I might have inow, but such a felyship of good knyghtes shall never be togydyrs in no company….”(658)

3. “It is Malory himself, not just his characters, for whom honor and shame are more real than guilt and innocence. Le Morte Darthur is of rather than about a shame ethos.” Mark Lambert, Malory: Style and vision in LMD, p. 179 “”The Arthurian ideal of fellowship is destroyed by the Arthurian ideal of honour. The Morte Darthur is so moving because it is a tragedy of virtue …..The Arthurian court is a human institution and like all things of this world must come to an end: much more fitting that it be brought down by its champions than by its villains, by its virtues than its vices.” C. David Benson, “The Ending of the Morte Darthur,” pp. 231, 233

4. "A, myn uncle," seyde Sir Gawayne, "now I woll that ye wyte that my deth-dayes be com; and all I may wyte myne owne has­ tynes and my wylfulnesse, for thorow my wylfulnes I was causer of myne owne dethe. For I was thys day hurte and smytten uppon myne olde wounde that Sir Launcelot gaff me-and I fele myselff that I muste nedis be dede by the owre of noone. And thorow me and my pryde ye have all thys shame and disease, for had that noble knyght Sir Launcelot ben with you, as he was and wolde have ben, thys unhappy warre had never ben begunne; for he, thorow hys noble knyghthode and hys noble bloode, hylde all youre cankyrde enemyes in subjeccion and daungere…’ (p. 681) Gawain’s Confession

5. Than Sir Launcelot was brought before her; nad the Quene seyde to all tho ladyes, “Thorow thys same man and me hath all thys warre be wrought, and the deth of the moste nobelest knyghtes of the worlde; for thorow oure love that we have loved togydir ys my moste noble lord slayne. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, wyte thou well I am sette in suche a plyght to gete my soule hele. And yet I truste, thorow Goddis grace and thorow Hys Passion of Hys woundis wyde, that aftir my deth I may have a syght of the blyssed face of Cryste Jesu, and on Doomesday to sytte on Hys ryght syde; for as synfull as ever I was, now ar seyntes in hevyn. And therefore, Sir Launcclot, I requyre the and beseche the hartily, for all the love that ever was betwyxt us, that thou never se me no more in the visayge. And I commaunde the, on Goddis behalff, that thou for­sake my company, and to thy kyngedom loke thou turne agayne, and kepe well thy realme frome warre and wrake. For as well as I have loved the heretofore, myne harte woll nat serve now to se the; for thorow the and me ys the floure of kyngis and knyghtes destroyed. And therefore go thou to thy realme, and there take ye a wyff and Iyff with hir wyth joy and blys-and I pray the hartely to pray for me to the everlastynge Lorde that I may amende my mysselyvyng." (p. 692) Guenevere’s Confession

6. … the hermyte came and awaked hym, and sayd, "Ye be to blame, for ye dysplese God with suche maner of sorow­makyng." "Truly," sayd Syr Launcclot, "I trust I do not dysplese God, for He knoweth myn entente; for my sorow was not, nor is not, for any rejoysyng of synne--but my sorow may never have ende. For whan I remembre of hir beaulte and of hir noblesse, that was bothe wyth hyr kyng and wyth hyr, so whan I sawe his corps and hir corps so lye togyders, truly myn herte wold not serve to susteyne my careful body. Also whan I remembre me how by my defaute and myn orgule and my pryde that they were bathe layed ful lowe, that were pereles that ever was lyvyng of Cristen people, wyt you wel," sayd Syr Launcclot, "this remembred, of their kyndenes and myn unkyndenes, sanke so to myn herte that I myght not susteyne myself." So the Frensshe book maketh mencyon. (695) Lancelot’s Confession