Chapter 7

The Madness of Sir Tristram

_Here followeth the story of how Sir Tristram was driven out of Cornwall and of how he went mad because of his troubles. Likewise it shall be told how he performed several very wonderful adventures whilst he was in that state, and of how he was brought back into his senses again._

Chapter First

_How Sir Tristram was discovered with the Lady Belle Isoult; how he assaulted King Mark, and how he escaped from Tintagel into the forest._

After Sir Tristram had thus rescued the Lady Belle Isoult from the hand of Sir Palamydes, he dwelt very peacefully at the court of Cornwall for all of that winter and until the spring that followed, and during that time he was given every meed of praise and honor. But although King Mark and his court gave praise to Sir Tristram with the lips, yet he and many of his people hated Sir Tristram at heart, and there were many mischief-makers about the court who were ever ready to blow the embers of the King's wrath into a flame.

Now the chiefest of all these mischief-makers was Sir Andred, who was nephew unto King Mark, and cousin-germaine unto Sir Tristram. Sir Andred was a fierce strong knight, and one very dextrous at arms; but he was as mean and as treacherous as Sir Tristram was generous and noble, wherefore he hated Sir Tristram with great bitterness (though he dissembled that hatred) and sought for every opportunity to do Sir Tristram a harm by bringing him and the King into conflict.

[Sidenote: Sir Andred of Cornwall sets spies upon Sir Tristram] So Sir Andred set spies upon Sir Tristram, and he himself spied upon his cousin, yet neither he nor they were able to find anything with which to accuse Sir Tristram. Then one day Sir Andred came to Sir Tristram and said: "Sir, the Lady Belle Isoult wishes to see you to talk with you." Sir Tristram said, "Where is she?"

And Sir Andred said, "She is in her bower." Then Sir Tristram said, "Very well, I will go to her."

So Sir Tristram arose and departed from where he was with intent to find the lady; and therewith Sir Andred hurried to where King Mark was, and said: "Lord, arise, for Sir Tristram and the Lady Isoult are holding converse together."

King Mark said, "Where are they?" And Sir Andred said, "They are in the bower of the Queen." At that King Mark's rage and jealousy blazed up into a flame, so that he was like one seized with a sudden frensy. So, in that madness of rage, he looked about for some weapon with which to destroy Sir Tristram, and he perceived a great sword where it hung against the wall. Thereupon he ran to the sword and took it down from where it was, and ran with all speed to that place where Sir Tristram and the Lady Isoult were, and Sir Andred guided him thither.

[Sidenote: King Mark assaults Sir Tristram] And when King Mark reached the bower of the Lady Isoult he flung open the door and found Sir Tristram and the Lady Isoult sitting together in the seat of a deep window. And he perceived that the Lady Isoult wept and that Sir Tristram's face was very sorrowful because of her sorrow. Then King Mark twisted him about and bent double as with a great pain, and then he cried out thrice in a voice very hoarse and loud: "Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!" Saying those words three times. Therewith he ran at Sir Tristram and struck furiously at him with that sword he held, with intent to slay him.

Now Sir Tristram was at that time altogether without armor and was clad in clothes of scarlet silk. Accordingly, he was able to be very quick and alert in his movements. So perceiving King Mark rushing upon him with intent to slay him he leaped aside and so avoided the blow. Then immediately he rushed in upon King Mark and catched him by the wrist and wrenched the sword out of his hand.

Then Sir Tristram was blinded with his rage and might have slain his uncle, but the Lady Isoult, beholding the fury in his face, shrieked in a very piercing voice, "Forbear! Forbear!" And therewith he remembered him how that King Mark was his mother's brother and that it was his hand that had made him a knight.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram beats King Mark] So he turned the sword in his hand and he smote King Mark with the flat thereof again and again, and at those blows King Mark was filled with terror so that he howled like a wild beast. And King Mark fled away from that place, striving to escape, but Sir Tristram ever pursued him, grinding his teeth like a wild boar in rage, and smiting the King as he ran, over and over again, with the flat of the sword so that the whole castle was filled with the tumult and uproar of that assault.

Then many of the knights of Cornwall came running with intent to defend the King, and with them came Sir Andred. But when Sir Tristram saw them, his rage suddenly left the King and went out toward them; so therewith, naked of armor as he was, he rushed at them, and he struck at them so fiercely that they were filled with the terror of his fury, and fled away from before his face. And Sir Tristram chased them through the courts of the castle, striking right and left until he was weary with striking, and many he struck down with the fierceness of his blows, and amongst them was Sir Andred who was sorely wounded. So after a while Sir Tristram grew weary of that battle, and he cried out, "Certes, these are not knights, but swine!" And therewith he ceased striking, and allowed those who could do so to escape.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram departs from Tintagel] Thereafter he went to his chamber and armed himself without summoning Gouvernail, and after that he took horse and rode away altogether from that place. And not even Gouvernail went with him, but only his favorite hound, hight Houdaine, which same followed him into the forest as he rode thitherward. And in his going Sir Tristram looked neither to the right nor to the left but straight before him very proudly and haughtily, and no one dared to stay him in his going.

Yet, though he appeared so steadfast, he was like one who was brokenhearted, for he wist that in going away from that place he was leaving behind him all that he held dear in the world, wherefore he was like one who rode forth from a pleasant garden into an empty wilderness of sorrow and repining.

[Sidenote: Gouvernail finds Sir Tristram in the forest] Then, some little while after Sir Tristram had gone, Gouvernail also took horse and rode into the forest, and he searched for a long while in the forest without finding his master. But after a while he came upon Sir Tristram seated under a tree with his head hanging down upon his breast. And Houdaine lay beside Sir Tristram and licked his hand, but Sir Tristram paid no heed to him, being so deeply sunk in his sorrow that he was unaware that Houdaine licked his hand in that wise.

Then Gouvernail dismounted from his horse and came to where Sir Tristram was, and Gouvernail wept at beholding the sorrow of Sir Tristram. And Gouvernail said: "Messire, look up and take cheer, for there must yet be joy for thee in the world."

Then Sir Tristram raised his eyes very slowly (for they were heavy and dull like lead) and he looked at Gouvernail for some while as though not seeing him. Then by and by he said: "Gouvernail, what evil have I done that I should have so heavy a curse laid upon me?" Gouvernail said, still weeping: "Lord, thou hast done no ill, but art in all wise a very noble, honorable gentleman." "Alas!" quoth Sir Tristram, "I must unwittingly have done some great evil in God's sight, for certes the hand of God lieth grievously heavy upon me." Gouvernail said: "Lord, take heart, and tell me whither shall we go now?" And Sir Tristram said, "I know not."

Then Gouvernail said: "Lord, let us go hence, I care not where, for I reckon nothing of storm or rain or snow or hail if it so be that I am with you."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram bids Gouvernail return to Tintagel] Then Sir Tristram looked upon Gouvernail and smiled, and he said: "Gouvernail, it is great joy to me that you should love me so greatly as you do. But this time you may not go with me whither I go, for the Lady Belle Isoult hath few friends at the court of Cornwall, and many enemies, wherefore I would have you return unto her for my sake, so that you may befriend her and cherish her when that I am no longer by her for to stand her friend in her hour of need. And take this dog Houdaine with you and bid the Lady Belle Isoult for to keep him by her to remind her of my faithfulness unto her. For even as this creature is faithful unto me under all circumstances, so am I faithful unto her whether she be glad or sorry, or in good or evil case. So return to Tintagel as I bid thee, and see that thou pay thy duty unto that lady even as thou payst it unto me. For she is so singularly dear unto me that, even as a man's heart is the life of his body, so is her happiness the life of my life."

Then Gouvernail wept again in very great measure, and he said, "Lord, I obey." Therewith he mounted his horse, still weeping with a great passion of sorrow, and rode away from that place, and Houdaine followed after him and Sir Tristram was left sitting alone in the deep forest.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram wanders in the forest mad] After that Sir Tristram wandered for several days in the forest, he knew not whither for he was bewildered with that which had happened; so that he ate no food and took no rest of any sort for all that time. Wherefore, because of the hardship he then endured, he by and by became distraught in his mind. So, after a while, he forgot who he himself was, and what was his condition, or whence he came or whither he wended. And because his armor weighed heavily upon him, he took it off and cast it away from him, and thereafter roamed half naked through the woodlands.

Now upon the sixth day of this wandering he came to the outskirts of the forest and nigh to the coast of the sea at a spot that was not very far away was the castle of the Lady Loise, where he had once stayed at the time that he undertook the adventure against Sir Nabon as aforetold. There, being exhausted with hunger and weariness, he laid himself down in the sunlight out beyond the borders of the forest and presently fell into a deep sleep that was like to a swoon.

Now it chanced at that time that there came that way a certain damsel attendant upon the Lady Loise. She perceiving that a man lay there on the grass at the edge of the forest was at first of a mind to quit that place. Then, seeing that the man lay very strangely still as though he were dead, she went forward very softly and looked into his face.

Now that damsel had beheld Sir Tristram a great many times when he was at the castle of the Lady Loise; wherefore now, in spite of his being so starved and shrunken, and so unkempt and unshaved, she remembered his face and she knew that this was Sir Tristram.

Therewith the damsel hurried away to the Lady Loise (and the lady was not a very great distance away) and she said: "Lady, yonder way there lieth a man by the forest side and I believe that it is Sir Tristram of Lyonesse. Yet he is but half-clad and in great distress of body so that I know not of a surety whether it is really Sir Tristram or not. Now I pray you come with me and look upon his face and see if you may know him."

So the Lady Loise went with the damsel to where Sir Tristram lay and looked into his face, and she knew Sir Tristram in spite of his ill condition.

[Sidenote: The Lady Loise finds Sir Tristram] Then the Lady Loise touched Sir Tristram upon the shoulder and shook him, and thereupon Sir Tristram awoke and sat up. Then the Lady Loise said, "Sir Tristram, is it thou who liest here?" And Sir Tristram said, "I know not who I am." The Lady Loise said, "Messire, how came you here in this sad case?" And Sir Tristram said: "I know not whence I came, nor how I came hither, nor who I am, nor what it is that ails me, for I cannot hold my mind with enough steadiness to remember those things." Then the lady sighed for sorrow of Sir Tristram, and she said: "Alas, Sir Tristram, that I should find you thus! Now I pray you, lord, for to come with me to my castle which is hard by. There we may care for you and may perhaps bring you back to health again."

To this Sir Tristram said: "Lady, I may not go with you. For though I cannot remember whence I came, nor who I am, this much I know--I know that I am mad, and that the forest is the only fit place for such as I am come to be."

The lady said: "Alas, Sir Tristram, thou wilt die if thou art left alone here in the forest." And Sir Tristram said: "Lady, I know not what you mean when you say I am to die. What is it to die?" So at these words the Lady Loise saw how it was with Sir Tristram; that his brains were altogether turned; and she wist that some sore trouble must have befallen to bring him to such a pass. Then she bethought her of how dearly he loved the music of the harp, and she said to herself: "Mayhap by means of music I may bring him back into his senses again." So she said to that damsel who had brought her thither: "Go thou and bring hither my little harp of gold, and let us see if music may charm him to remembrance."

So the damsel ran to the castle and brought the harp thence, and the Lady Loise took the harp and tuned it and struck it and played upon it. And the lady sang very sweetly a ballad that she knew Sir Tristram loved.

[Sidenote: The Lady Loise harps to Sir Tristram] Then when Sir Tristram heard the sound of the music and singing he aroused himself. For first he listened with great pleasure, and then he said, "Give it to me! Give it to me!" and he reached out his hands and would have taken the harp from the lady.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to the Lady's castle] But the Lady Loise laughed and shook her head, and she walked away from Sir Tristram and toward the castle, still playing upon the little harp and singing; and Sir Tristram followed close after, saying ever, "Give it to me! Give it to me!" and reaching out his hands for the harp. So the Lady Loise led him away from that place across the meadows; and she led him to the castle and into the castle; and ever Sir Tristram followed after her, beseeching her for to give the harp unto him. And the lady led Sir Tristram that way until she had brought him to a fair room, and there she gave him the harp, and Sir Tristram took it very eagerly into his hands and struck upon it and played and sang most sweetly and with great joy and pleasure.

Afterward, being so much comforted, he ate and drank with appetite, and then fell into a fair sound sleep.

Yet, though he so slept, still Sir Tristram's wits in no wise recovered themselves; for when he awoke from that slumber he still could not remember who he was or whence he came, neither could he remember the faces of any of those who were around about him. But, though he was thus mad, he was still gentle and kind in his madness and courteous and civil to all those who came nigh him.

So Sir Tristram remained a gentle captive in the castle of the Lady Loise for nigh upon a month, and somewhiles she would sing and harp to him, and otherwhiles he himself would harp and sing. But ever and anon, when he found the chance for to do so, he would escape from the captivity of the castle and seek the forest; for he was aware of his madness and he ever sought to hide that madness in the deep and shady woodland where only the wild creatures of the forest might see him.

Yet always when he so escaped the Lady Loise would take her little golden harp and go forth to the skirts of the forest and play upon it, and when the music thereof would reach Sir Tristram's ears he would return to the castle, being led thither by the music.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram quits the Lady's castle] But one day he wandered so far astray that the music of the harp could not reach his ears, and then he wandered on farther and farther until he was altogether lost. At that Lady Loise took much sorrow for she had much love for Sir Tristram. So she sent many of her people to search the forest for him, but none of these were able to find him and thereafter he came no more to the castle.

Thus Sir Tristram escaped from that castle and after that he wandered in the forest as he had done at the first. And in that time he took no food and but little rest. And the brambles tore his clothes, so that in a short time he was wellnigh altogether naked.

And somewhiles during this time of wandering he would be seized as with a fury of battle, and in such case he would shout aloud as though in challenge to an enemy. And then he would rend and tear great branches from the trees in the fury of his imaginings. But otherwhiles he would wander through the leafy aisles of the forest in gentler mood, singing so sweetly that had you heard him you would have thought that it was some fairy spirit of the forest chanting in those solitudes.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram dwells with the swineherds] So he wandered until he failed with faintness, and sank down into the leaves; and I believe that he would then have died, had it not been that there chanced to come that way certain swineherds of the forest who fed their swine upon acorns that were to be therein found. These found Sir Tristram lying there as though dead, and they gave him to eat and to drink so that he revived once more. After that they took him with them, and he dwelt with them in those woodlands. There these forest folk played with him and made merry with him, and he made them great sport. For he was ever gentle and mild like a little child for innocence so that he did no harm to anyone, but only talked in such a way that the swineherds found great sport in him.

Now Sir Andred of Cornwall very greatly coveted the possessions of Sir Tristram, so that when several months had passed by and Sir Tristram did not return to Tintagel, he said to himself: "Of a surety, Tristram must now be dead in the forest, and, as there is no one nigher of kin to him than I, it is altogether fitting that I should inherit his possessions."

But as Sir Andred could not inherit without proof of the death of Sir Tristram, he suborned a certain very beautiful but wicked lady who dwelt in the forest, persuading her that she should give false evidence of Sir Tristram's death. Accordingly, he one day brought that lady before King Mark, and she gave it as her evidence that Sir Tristram had died in the forest and that she had been with him when he died. And she showed them a new-made grave in the forest, and she said: "That is the grave of Sir Tristram, for I saw him die and I saw him buried there with mine own eyes."

[Sidenote: Sir Adred seizes Sir Tristram's possessions] So everybody believed this evidence, and thought that Sir Tristram was really dead, and so Sir Andred seized upon all the possessions of Sir Tristram. And there were many who were very sorry that Sir Tristram was dead and there were others who were glad thereof in the same measure. But when the news was brought to Belle Isoult that Sir Tristram was dead, she shrieked aloud and swooned away. And she lay in that swoon so long that they thought for a while she would never recover from it. But by and by she awoke therefrom, crying, "Would to God that I were dead with Tristram and had never awakened!"

And thereafter she mourned continually for Sir Tristram and would not be comforted; for she was like to a woman who hath been widowed from a lover of her youth.

And now it shall be told of how it fared with Sir Tristram in the forest where he dwelt with the swineherds, and of how he achieved a very notable adventure therein.

Chapter Second

_How Sir Tristram got him a sword from Sir Kay and how he slew therewith a huge knight in the forest and rescued a lady in very great distress. Also how Sir Launcelot found Sir Tristram in the forest and brought him thence to Tintagel again._

Now it chanced one day that Sir Kay the Seneschal came riding through those parts of the forest where Sir Tristram abided with the swineherds, and with Sir Kay there came a considerable court of esquires. And with him besides there travelled Sir Dagonet, King Arthur's Fool.

[Sidenote: Sir Kay and Sir Dagonet come to the forest] Now, you are to know that though Sir Dagonet was the King's jester, and though he was slack of wit, yet he was also a knight of no mean prowess. For he had performed several deeds of good repute and was well held in all courts of chivalry. So Sir Dagonet always went armed; though he bore upon his shield the device of a cockerel's head as a symbol of his calling.

The time that Sir Kay and his court travelled as aforesaid was in the summer season and the day was very warm, so that Sir Kay was minded to take rest during the midday and until the coolness of the afternoon should come. So they all dismounted from their horses and sat them down under the shade of the trees where it was cool and pleasant and where the breezes reached them to breathe upon their faces.

[Sidenote: Sir Dagonet wanders in the woodland] But whilst Sir Kay and his court thus rested themselves, Sir Dagonet must needs be gadding, for he was of a very restless, meddlesome disposition. So, being at that time clad only in half armor, he wandered hither and thither through the forest as his fancy led him. For somewhiles he would whistle and somewhiles he would gape, and otherwhiles he would cut a caper or two. So, as chance would have it, he came by and by to that open glade of the forest where the swineherds were gathered; and at that time they were eating their midday meal of black bread and cheese, and were drinking beer; some talking and laughing and others silent as they ate their food. Unto these Sir Dagonet appeared, coming out of the forest in very gay attire, and shining in the half armor he wore, so that he appeared like a bright bird of the woodland.

Then Sir Dagonet, seeing where those rude boors were eating their meal of food, came to them and stood amongst them. And he said, "Who are ye fellows?" Whereunto they replied, "We are swineherds, Messire; who be ye?"

Quoth Sir Dagonet: "I am King Arthur's Fool. And whilst there are haply many in the world with no more wits than I possess, yet there are few so honest as I to confess that they are fools."

At these words those swineherds laughed very loudly. "Well," quoth one, "if King Arthur hath his fool, so have we, and yonder he is," and therewith he pointed to where Sir Tristram lay in the shade of the trees some distance away and beside a deep well of the forest.

Upon that Sir Dagonet must needs go to where Sir Tristram lay, nearly naked, upon the ground. And when he had come there he said, "Arise, fool." Whereunto Sir Tristram replied: "Why should I arise? Lo! I am weary."

Then Sir Dagonet said: "It is not fitting that thou, who art the fool of swineherds shouldst lie upon the grass, whilst I who am the fool of a king stand upright upon my shanks. So, fool, I bid thee bestir thyself and arise."

But Sir Tristram said, "I will not arise." And therewith Sir Dagonet took his sword and pricked the thigh of Sir Tristram with the point thereof with intent to make him bestir himself.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram souses Sir Dagonet in the well] Now when Sir Tristram felt the prick of Sir Dagonet's sword, a certain part of his memory of knighthood came back to him and he was seized with a sudden fury against Sir Dagonet. So he arose and ran at Sir Dagonet and catched him in his arms, and lifted Sir Dagonet off his feet and he soused him in the well four or five times so that he was like to have drowned him.

As for those swineherds, when they saw what their fool did to that other fool, they roared with laughter so that some of them rolled down upon the ground and lay grovelling there for pure mirth. But others of them called out to Sir Tristram, "Let be, or thou wilt drown that man"; and therewith Sir Tristram let Sir Dagonet go, and Sir Dagonet ran away.

Nor did Sir Dagonet cease to run until he came to his party under the shade of the trees. But when Sir Kay perceived what a sorry plight it was in which Sir Dagonet appeared, he said, "What hath befallen thee?"

To this Sir Dagonet replied as follows: "Messire, I, who am a fool, went into the forest and met another fool. I fool would have a jest with he fool, but he fool catched I fool and soused I fool in a well of cold water. So it came about that while I fool had the jest, he fool had the sport of the jest."

[Sidenote: Sir Kay seeks to avenge Sir Dagonet] Then Sir Kay understood in some manner what had befallen, and he was very angry that Sir Dagonet should have been so served. Wherefore he said, "Where did this befall thee?" And Sir Dagonet said, "Over yonder ways." Then Sir Kay said: "I will avenge thee for the affront that hath been put upon thee. For no boor shall serve a knight of King Arthur's court in such a fashion!" So therewith Sir Kay arose and put on his armor and mounted his horse and rode away; and after a while he came to that place where the swineherds were.

Then Sir Kay said very sternly: "Which of ye is that boor who put so grievous an affront upon a gentleman of my party?" The swineherds say: "Yonder he is lying by the well; but he is slack of wit, wherefore we beseech you to do him no harm."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram souses Sir Kay in the water] Then Sir Kay rode to where Sir Tristram was, and he said: "Sirrah, why did you souse Sir Dagonet into the water?" To this Sir Tristram did not reply, but only looked at Sir Kay and laughed, for it pleased him wonderfully to behold that knight all in shining armor. But when Sir Kay beheld Sir Tristram laugh in that wise, he waxed exceedingly wroth. Wherefore he drew his sword straightway, and rode at Sir Tristram with intent to strike him with the blade thereof. But when Sir Tristram saw the sword of Sir Kay shining like lightning in the sunlight, somewhat of his knightly spirit arose within him and took wing like to a bird springing up out of the marish grass into the clear air. For beholding that bright flashing sword he cried out aloud and arose and came very steadily toward Sir Kay, and Sir Kay rode toward Sir Tristram. Then when Sir Kay had come near enough to strike, he arose in his stirrups and lifted the blade on high with intent to strike Sir Tristram with it. But therewith Sir Tristram ran very quickly in beneath the blow, so that the stroke of Sir Kay failed of its mark. Then Sir Tristram leaped up and catched Sir Kay around the body and dragged him down from off his horse very violently upon the ground, and with that the sword of Sir Kay fell down out of his hands and lay in the grass. Then Sir Tristram lifted up Sir Kay very easily and ran with him to the well of water and soused him therein several times until Sir Kay cried out, "Fellow, spare me or I strangle!" Upon that Sir Tristram let go Sir Kay, and Sir Kay ran to his horse and mounted thereon and rode away from that place with might and main, all streaming with water like to a fountain.

And all that while those swineherds roared with great laughter, ten times louder than they had laughed when Sir Tristram had soused Sir Dagonet into the well.

Then Sir Tristram beheld the sword of Sir Kay where it lay in the grass and forthwith he ran to it and picked it up. And when he held it in his hands he loved it with a great passion of love, wherefore he hugged it to his bosom and kissed the pommel thereof.

But when the swineherds beheld the sword in Sir Tristram's hands, they said, "That is no fit plaything for a madman to have," and they would have taken it from him, but Sir Tristram would not permit them, for he would not give them the sword, and no one dared to try to take it from him.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram keeps the sword of Sir Kay] So thereafter he kept that sword ever by him both by night and by day, and ever he loved it and kissed it and fondled it; for, as aforesaid, it aroused his knightly spirit to life within him, wherefore it was he loved it.

So it hath been told how Sir Tristram got him a sword, and now it shall be told how well he used it.

Now there was at that time in the woodlands of that part of Cornwall a gigantic knight hight Sir Tauleas, and he was the terror of all that district. For not only was he a head and shoulders taller than the tallest of Cornish men, but his strength and fierceness were great in the same degree that he was big of frame. Many knights had undertaken to rid the world of this Sir Tauleas, but no knight had ever yet encountered him without meeting some mishap at his hands.

(Yet it is to be said that heretofore no such knight as Sir Launcelot or Sir Lamorack had come against Sir Tauleas, but only the knights of Cornwall and Wales, whose borders marched upon that district where Sir Tauleas ranged afield.)

[Sidenote: Sir Daynant and his lady come to the forest] Now one day there came riding through the forest a very noble, gallant young knight, hight Sir Daynant, and with him rode his lady, a beautiful dame to whom he had lately been wedded with a great deal of love. These wayfarers in their travelling came to that part of the forest where the swineherds abode, and where were the open glade of grass and the fair well of water aforespoken of.

Hereunto coming, and the day being very warm, these two travellers dismounted and besought refreshment of the swineherds who were there, and those rude good fellows gladly gave them to eat and to drink of the best they had.

[Sidenote: Sir Daynant regards Sir Tristam] Whilst they ate, Sir Tristram came and sat nigh to Sir Daynant and his lady and smiled upon them, for he loved them very greatly because of their nobility and beauty. Then Sir Daynant looked upon Sir Tristram and beheld how strong and beautiful of body and how noble of countenance he was, and he saw that beautiful shining sword that Sir Tristram carried ever with him. And Sir Daynant said, "Fair friend, who are you, and where gat ye that sword?"

"I know not who I am," said Sir Tristram, "nor know I whence I came nor whither I go. As for this sword, I had it from a gentleman who came hither to us no great while ago."

Then the chiefest of the swineherds said: "Lord, this is a poor madman whom we found naked and starving in the forest. As for that sword, I may tell you that he took it away from a knight who came hither to threaten his life, and he soused that knight into the well so that he was wellnigh drowned."

Sir Daynant said: "That is a very strange story, that a naked madman should take the sword out of the hands of an armed knight and treat that knight as ye tell me. Now maybe this is some famous hero or knight who hath lost his wits through sorrow or because of some other reason, and who hath so come to this sorry pass."

(So said Sir Daynant, and it may here be said that from that time those rude swineherds began to look upon Sir Tristram with different eyes than before, saying amongst themselves: "Maybe what that knight said is true, and this is indeed no common madman.")

Now whilst Sir Daynant sat there with his lady, holding converse with the swineherds concerning Sir Tristram in that wise, there came a great noise in the forest, and out therefrom there came riding with great speed that huge savage knight Sir Tauleas aforetold of. Then Sir Daynant cried out, "Alas, here is misfortune!" And therewith he made all haste to put his helmet upon his head.

[Sidenote: Sir Tauleas strikes down Sir Daynant] But ere he could arm himself in any sufficient wise, Sir Tauleas drave down very fiercely upon him. And Sir Tauleas rose up in his stirrups and lashed so terrible a blow at Sir Daynant that it struck through Sir Daynant's helmet and into his brain-pan, wherefore Sir Daynant immediately fell down to the ground as though he had been struck dead.

[Sidenote: Sir Tauleas bears away the lady] Then Sir Tauleas rode straightway to where the lady of Sir Daynant was, and he said: "Lady, thou art a prize that it is very well worth while fighting for! And lo! I have won thee." Therewith he catched her and lifted her up, shrieking and screaming and struggling, and sat her upon the saddle before him and held her there maugre all her struggles. Then straightway he rode away into the forest, carrying her with him; and all that while Sir Tristram stood as though in a maze, gazing with a sort of terror upon what befell and not rightly knowing what it all meant. For there lay Sir Daynant as though dead upon the ground, and he could yet hear the shrieks of the lady sounding out from the forest whither Sir Tauleas had carried her.

Then the chief of the swineherds came to Sir Tristram, and said: "Fellow, as thou hast a sword, let us see if thou canst use it. If thou art a hero as that knight said of thee a while since, and not a pure madman, then follow after that knight and bring that lady back hither again."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram follows Sir Tauleas] Then Sir Tristram awoke from that maze and said, "I will do so." And therewith he ran away very rapidly into the forest, pursuing the direction that Sir Tauleas had taken. And he ran for a great distance, and by and by, after a while, he beheld Sir Tauleas before him where he rode. And by that time the lady was in a deep swoon and lay as though dead across the saddle of Sir Tauleas. Then Sir Tristram cried out in a great voice: "Stay, Sir Knight, and turn this way, for I come to take that lady away from thee and to bring her back unto her friend again!"

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram slays Sir Tauleas] Then Sir Tauleas turned him and beheld a naked man running after him with a sword in his hand, whereupon he was seized with a great rage of anger, so that he put that lady he carried down to the ground. And he drew his sword and rushed at Sir Tristram very violently with intent to slay him. And when he came nigh to Sir Tristram he arose up on his stirrups and lashed so terrible a blow at him that, had it met its mark, it would have cloven Sir Tristram in twain. But Sir Tristram leaped aside and turned the blow very skilfully; and therewith a memory of his knightly prowess came upon him and he, upon his part, lashed a blow at Sir Tauleas that Sir Tauleas received very unexpectedly. And that blow struck Sir Tauleas so terrible a buffet upon the head that the brain of Sir Tauleas swam, and he swayed about and then fell down from off his horse. Therewith Sir Tristram ran to him and rushed his helmet from off his head. And when he beheld the naked head of Sir Tauleas he catched it by the hair and drew the neck of Sir Tauleas forward. Then Sir Tauleas cried out, "Spare me, fellow!" But Sir Tristram said, "I will not spare thee for thou art a wicked man!" And therewith he lifted his sword on high and smote off the head of Sir Tauleas so that it rolled down upon the ground.

After that, Sir Tristram went to the Lady and he chafed her hands and her face so that she revived from her swoon. And when she was revived, he said: "Lady, take cheer; for look yonder and thou wilt see thy enemy is dead, and so now I may take thee back again unto thy friend." And therewith the lady smiled upon Sir Tristram and catched his hand in hers and kissed it.

Then Sir Tristram lifted the lady upon the horse of Sir Tauleas, and after that he went back again to where he had left Sir Daynant and the swineherds; and he led the horse of Sir Tauleas by the bridle with the lady upon the back thereof and he bore the head of Sir Tauleas in his hand by the hair.

But when those swineherds saw Sir Tristram come forth thus out of the forest bringing that lady and bearing the head of Sir Tauleas, they were amazed beyond measure, and they said to one another: "Of a certainty what this young knight hath just said is sooth and this madman is indeed some great champion in distress. But who he is no one may know, since he himself doth not know."

And when Sir Daynant had recovered from that blow that Sir Tauleas had given him, he also gave Sir Tristram great praise for what he had done. And Sir Tristram was abashed at all the praise that was bestowed upon him.

Then Sir Daynant and his lady besought Sir Tristram that he would go with them to their castle so that they might care for him, but Sir Tristram would not, for he said: "I wist very well that I am mad, and so this forest is a fit place for me to dwell and these kind rude fellows are fit companions for me at this time whilst my wits are wandering."

Thus it was with this adventure. And now you shall hear how Sir Launcelot found Sir Tristram in the forest and how he brought him out thence and likewise what befell thereafter.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot enters the forest] For only the next day after all these things had happened, Sir Launcelot came riding through the forest that way, seeking for Sir Tauleas with intent to do battle with him because of his many evil deeds. For Sir Launcelot purposed either to slay him or else to bring him captive to King Arthur.

So it came to pass that Sir Launcelot came to that place where Sir Tristram and the swineherds abode.

There Sir Launcelot made pause for to rest and to refresh himself, and whilst he sat with his helmet lying beside him so that the breezes might cool his face, all those rude swineherds gathered about and stared at him. And Sir Launcelot smiled upon them, and he said: "Good fellows, I pray you tell me; do you know where, hereabouts, I shall find a knight whom men call Sir Tauleas?"

Unto this the chief swineherd made reply, saying: "Lord, if you come hither seeking Sir Tauleas, you shall seek him in vain. For yesterday he was slain, and if you look yonder way you may see his head hanging from a branch of a tree at the edge of the glade."

Upon this Sir Launcelot cried out in great amazement, "How hath that come to pass?" and therewith he immediately arose from where he sat and went to that tree where the head hung. And he looked into the face of the head, and therewith he saw that it was indeed the head of Sir Tauleas that hung there. Then Sir Launcelot said: "This is very wonderful. Now I pray you, tell me what knight was it who slew this wicked wretch, and how his head came to be left hanging here?"

To this the chief of the swineherds made reply: "Messire, he who slew Sir Tauleas was no knight, but a poor madman whom we found in the forest and who has dwelt with us now for a year past. Yonder you may see him, lying half naked, sleeping beside that well of water."

Sir Launcelot said, "Was it he who did indeed slay Sir Tauleas?" And the swineherd said, "Yea, lord, it was he."

Sir Launcelot said, "Do ye not then know who he is?" The swineherd replied: "No, lord, we only know that one day we found him lying in the forest naked and nigh to death from hunger and that we fed him and clothed him, and that since then he hath dwelt ever with us, showing great love for us all."

Then Sir Launcelot went to where Sir Tristram lay, and he looked upon him as he slept and he knew him not; for the beard and the hair of Sir Tristram had grown down all over his breast and shoulders and he was very ragged and beaten by the weather. But though Sir Launcelot knew him not, yet he beheld that the body of Sir Tristram was very beautiful and strong, for he saw how all the muscles and thews thereof were cut very smooth and clean as you might cut them out of wax, wherefore Sir Launcelot gazed for a long while and felt great admiration for his appearance.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot regards Sir Tristam] Then Sir Launcelot beheld how the sleeping man held a naked sword in his arms very caressingly, as though he loved it, and thereat he was very much surprised to find such a sword as that in the hands of this forest madman. Wherefore he said to those swineherds, "Where got this man that sword?"

"Messire," said the swineherd who had afore spoken, "some while since there came a knight hitherward who ill-treated him. Thereupon this poor man ran at the knight and overthrew him and took the sword away from him and soused him several times in the well. After that he hath ever held fast to this sword and would not give it up to any of us."

"Ha!" said Sir Launcelot, "that is a very wonderful story, that a naked man should overthrow an armed knight and take his sword away from him. Now I deem that this is no mere madman, but some noble knight in misfortune."

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot awakens Sir Tristram] Therewith he reached forward and touched Sir Tristram very gently on the shoulder, and at that Sir Tristram awoke and opened his eyes and sat up. And Sir Tristram looked upon Sir Launcelot, but knew him not, albeit some small memory moved very deeply within him. Nevertheless, though he knew not Sir Launcelot, yet he felt great tenderness for that noble knight in arms, and he smiled very lovingly upon him. And Sir Launcelot felt in return a very great deal of regard for Sir Tristram, but wist not why that was; yet it seemed to Sir Launcelot that he should know the face of Sir Tristram, and that it was not altogether strange to him.

Then Sir Launcelot said, "Fair friend, was it thou who slew Sir Tauleas?" And Sir Tristram said, "Ay." Sir Launcelot said, "Who art thou?" Whereunto Sir Tristram made reply: "I know not who I am, nor whence I come, nor how I came hither."

Then Sir Launcelot felt great pity and tenderness for Sir Tristram, and he said: "Friend, wilt thou go with me away from this place and into the habitations of men? There I believe thy mind maybe made whole again, and that it may be with thee as it was beforetime. And verily, I believe that when that shall come to pass, the world shall find in thee some great knight it hath lost."

Sir Tristram said: "Sir Knight, though I know not who I am, yet I know that I am not sound in my mind; wherefore I am ashamed to go out in the world and amongst mankind, but would fain hide myself away in this forest. Yet I love thee so much that, if thou wert to bid me go with thee to the ends of the world, I believe I would go with thee."

Then Sir Launcelot smiled upon Sir Tristram very kindly and said, "I do bid thee come with me away from here," and Sir Tristram said, "I will go."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram quits the forest with Sir Launcelot] So Sir Launcelot bade the swineherds clothe Sir Tristram in such a wise that his nakedness might be covered, and he bade them give Sir Tristram hosen and shoon, and when Sir Tristram was thus decently clad, Sir Launcelot made ready to take his departure from that place.

But ere the two left, all those good fellows crowded around Sir Tristram, and embraced him and kissed him upon the cheek; for they had come to love him a very great deal.

Then the two went away through the forest, Sir Launcelot proudly riding upon his great horse and Sir Tristram running very lightly beside him.

But Sir Launcelot had other business at that time than to seek out Sir Tauleas as aforetold. For at that time there were three knights of very ill-repute who harried the west coast of that land that overlooked the sea toward the Kingdom of Ireland, and Sir Launcelot was minded to seek them out after he had finished with Sir Tauleas. So ere he returned to the court of King Arthur he had first of all to go thitherward.

Now you are to know that the castle of Tintagel lay upon the way that he was to take upon that adventure, and so it was that he brought Sir Tristram to the castle of Tintagel, where King Mark of Cornwall was then holding court. For Sir Launcelot was minded to leave Sir Tristram there whilst he went upon that adventure aforetold of.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to Tintagel] And Sir Launcelot was received in Tintagel with very great honor and acclaim, for it was the first time he had ever been there. And King Mark besought Sir Launcelot for to abide a while in Tintagel; but Sir Launcelot refused this hospitality, saying: "I have an adventure to do for the sake of my master, King Arthur, and I may not abide here at this present. But I pray you to grant me a favor, and it is this: that you cherish this poor madman whom I found in the forest, and that you keep him here, treating him kindly until I shall return from the quest I am upon. For I have great love for this poor fellow and I would not have any harm befall him whilst I am away."

Then King Mark said: "I am sorry you will not remain with us, but as to this thing it shall be done as you desire, for we will cherish and care for this man while you are away." So said King Mark, speaking with great cheerfulness and courtesy; for neither he nor any of his court at that time wist who Sir Tristram was.

So Sir Launcelot went upon his way, and King Mark gave orders that Sir Tristram should be well-clothed and fed, and it was done as he commanded.

* * * * *

Thus it was that Sir Tristram was brought back to the castle of Tintagel again. And now it shall be told how it befell with him thereat.

Chapter Third

_How Sir Tristram was discovered at Tintagel and of what befell thereby._

Now during the time that Sir Tristram abode thus unknown at the court of Tintagel, he was allowed to wander thereabouts whithersoever he chose, and no one hindered him either in going or in coming. For none in all that place suspected who he was, but everyone thought that he was only a poor gentle madman of the forest; so he was allowed to wander at will as his fancy led him.

[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram dwelt at Tintagel] And Sir Tristram's memory never awoke; but though it awoke not, yet it stirred within him. For though he could not remember what this place was whereunto he had come, yet it was very strangely familiar to him, so that whithersoever he went, he felt that those places were not altogether strange to him. And in some of those places he felt great pleasure and in other places somewhat of pain, yet he knew not why he should have the one feeling or the other.

Now of all those places whereunto he wandered, Sir Tristram found most pleasure in the pleasance of the castle where was a fair garden and fruit trees; for it was there that he and the Lady Belle Isoult had walked together aforetime ere his affliction had befallen him, and he remembered this place better than any other, and took more pleasure in it. Now one day Sir Tristram came wandering thus into that pleasance and, the day being warm, he sat under the shade of an appletree beside a marble fountain of water; and the appletree above his head was all full of red and golden fruit. So Sir Tristram sat there, striving to remember how it was that he had once aforetime beheld that fountain and that garden and that appletree beneath which he sat.

So whilst he sat there pondering in that wise, there came the Lady Belle Isoult into the garden of that pleasance and her lady, the dame Bragwaine, was with her, and the hound, hight Houdaine, which Sir Tristram had sent to her by Gouvernail, walked beside her on the other side. Then Belle Isoult perceived that there was a man sitting under the appletree, and she said to dame Bragwaine: "Who is yonder man who hath dared to come hither into our privy garden?" Unto this, dame Bragwaine replied: "That, lady, is the gentle madman of the forest whom Sir Launcelot brought hither two days ago."

Then the Lady Belle Isoult said, "Let us go nearer and see what manner of man he is"; and so they went forward toward where Sir Tristram sat, and the dog Houdaine went with them.

Then Sir Tristram was aware that someone was nigh; and therewith he turned his face and beheld the Lady Isoult for the first time since he had gone mad in the forest; and the lady was looking at him, but knew him not.

Then of a sudden, because of his great love for Belle Isoult, the memory of Sir Tristram came all back to him in the instant, and upon that instant he knew who he was and all that had befallen him, and how he had been brought there as a madman out of the forest. But though he knew her in that wise, yet, as has been said, she knew not him.

Then Sir Tristram was all overwhelmed with shame that he should be thus found by that dear lady; wherefore he turned away his face and bowed his head so that she might not remember him, for he perceived that as yet she did not know him who he was.

Now at that moment the dog, Houdaine, was aware of the savor of Sir Tristram; wherefore he leaped away from the Lady Belle Isoult and ran to Sir Tristram and smelt very eagerly of him. And with that he knew his master.

[Sidenote: Houdaine knoweth Sir Tristram] Then the two ladies who looked beheld Houdaine fall down at the feet of Sir Tristram and grovel there with joy. And they beheld that he licked Sir Tristram's feet and his hands, and that he leaped upon Sir Tristram and licked his neck and face, and at that they were greatly astonished.

Then of a sudden a thought came to dame Bragwaine, and she catched the Lady Isoult by the arm and she said: "Lady, know you not who yonder madman is?" But the Lady Belle Isoult said: "Nay, I know not who he is. Who is he, Bragwaine?" And Bragwaine said: "Certes, that is Sir Tristram, and no one else in all the world."

[Sidenote: Belle Isoult knows Sir Tristram] Therewith, at those words, the scales suddenly fell from Lady Belle Isoult's eyes and she knew him. Then, for a little space, she stood as though turned into stone; then she emitted a great loud cry of joy and ran to Sir Tristram where he sat, and flung herself down upon the ground at the feet of Sir Tristram and embraced him about the knees. And she cried out in a voice of great passion: "Tristram! Tristram! Is it thou? They told me thou wert dead, and lo! thou art come to life again!" And with that she fell to weeping with such fury of passion that it was as though the soul of her were struggling to escape from her body.

Then Sir Tristram got to his feet in great haste and agitation and he said: "Lady! Lady! This must not be--arise, and stay your passion or else it will be our ruin. For behold, I am alone and unarmed in this castle, and there are several herein who seek my life. So if it be discovered who I am, both thou and I are lost."

Then, perceiving how that Belle Isoult was in a way distracted and out of her mind with joy and grief and love, he turned him unto Bragwaine and said to her: "Take thy lady hence and by and by I will find means whereby I may come to speech with her in private. Meanwhile it is death both for her and for me if she remain here to betray me unto the others of this castle."

So Bragwaine and Sir Tristram lifted up the Lady Belle Isoult, and Bragwaine led her thence out of that place; for I believe that Belle Isoult knew not whither she went but walked like one walking half in a swoon.

[Sidenote: Sir Andred knoweth Sir Tristram] Now it chanced at that time that Sir Andred was in a balcony overlooking that pleasance, and, hearing the sound of voices and the sound of a disturbance that was suppressed, he looked out and beheld all that passed. Then he also wist who was that madman whom Sir Launcelot had fetched to that place out of the forest, and that he was Sir Tristram.

Therewith he was filled with a great rage and fury and was likewise overwhelmed with great fear lest, if Sir Tristram should escape from that castle with his life, he would reclaim those possessions that he, Sir Andred, had seized upon.

[Sidenote: Sir Andres betrays Sir Tristram to King Mark] So therewith he withdrew himself from that balcony very softly, into the apartment behind. And he sat down in that apartment for a little while as though not knowing rightly what to do. But after a little while he arose and went to King Mark; and King Mark looked up and beheld him and said, "What news do you bring, Messire?" Thereunto Sir Andred made reply: "Lord, know you who that madman is whom Sir Launcelot hath fetched hither?" King Mark said, "Nay, I know not who he is." But with that he fell to trembling throughout his entire body, for he began to bethink him who that madman was. "Lord," said Sir Andred, "it is Sir Tristram, and me-seems Sir Launcelot was aware who it was, and that he was plotting treason when he fetched him hither."

At that King Mark smote his hands together and he cried in a terrible voice, "I know it! I know it!" And then he said: "Blind! Blind! How was it that I knew him not?" Then after a little he fell to laughing and he said to Sir Andred: "Lo! God hath assuredly delivered that traitor, Sir Tristram, into mine hands so that I may punish him for his treasons. For, behold! he is here in our midst and he is altogether unarmed. Go, Messire, with all haste, gather together such force as may be needful, and seize upon him and bind him so that he may do no further harm to any man. Then let justice be executed upon him so soon as it is possible to do so." And Sir Andred said: "Lord, it shall be done according to your demands and upon the instant."

Therewith Sir Andred went forth from where the King was, and he armed himself in complete armor, and he gathered together a number of knights and esquires and he led them to that place where he knew Sir Tristram would be; and there he found Sir Tristram sitting sunk in thought. And when Sir Tristram beheld those armed men come in thus upon him, he arose to defend himself. But then Sir Andred cried out in a loud voice: "Seize him ere he can strike and bind him fast, for he is unarmed and may do you no harm!"

[Sidenote: The castle folk seize Sir Tristram] With that a dozen or more of those who were with Sir Andred flung themselves upon Sir Tristram, shouting and roaring like wild beasts. And they bore him to the earth by numbers, and after a while, by dint of great effort, they held him and bound his hands together by the wrists. Then they lifted up Sir Tristram and stood him upon his feet, and lo! his bosom heaved with his struggles, and his eyes were all shot with blood and his lips afroth with the fury of his fighting; and his clothes were torn in that struggle so that his body was half naked. And they held him there, a knight in armor with a naked sword standing upon his right hand and another armed knight with a naked sword standing upon his left hand.

Then Sir Andred came and stood in front of Sir Tristram and taunted him, saying: "Ha, Tristram, how is it with thee now? Lo! thou camest like a spy into this place, and now thou art taken with all thy treason upon thee. So thou shalt die no knightly death, but, in a little while, thou shalt be hanged like a thief."

Then he came close to Sir Tristram, and he laughed and said: "Tristram where is now the glory of thy strength that one time overcame all thine enemies? Lo! thou art helpless to strike a single blow in defence of thine honor." And therewith Sir Andred lifted his hand and smote Sir Tristram upon the face with the palm thereof.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram slays Sir Andred] At that blow the rage of Sir Tristram so flamed up in him that his eyes burned as with pure green fire. And in an instant, so quickly that no man wist what he did, he turned with amazing suddenness upon that knight who stood at his left hand, and he lifted up both hands that were bound, and he smote that knight such a blow upon the face that the knight fell down upon the ground and his sword fell out of his hand. Then Sir Tristram snatched the sword and, turning with astonishing quickness, he smote the knight upon his right hand such a buffet that he instantly fell down upon his knees and then rolled over upon the ground in a swoon. Then Sir Tristram turned upon Sir Andred, and lifting high the sword with both hands tied, he smote him so terrible a blow that the blade cut through his epulier and half through his body as far as the paps. At that great terrible blow the breath fled out of Sir Andred with a deep groan, and he fell down upon the ground and immediately died.

Now all this had happened so suddenly that they who beheld it were altogether amazed and stood staring as though bewitched by some spell. But when they beheld Sir Tristram turn upon them and make at them with that streaming sword lifted on high, the terror of his fury so seized upon them that they everywhere broke from before him and fled, yelling, and with the fear of death clutching them in the vitals. And Sir Tristram chased them out of that place and into the courtyard of the castle, and some he smote down and others escaped; but all who could do so scattered away before him like chaff before the wind.

Then, when they were gone, Sir Tristram stood panting and glaring about him like a lion at bay. Then he set the point of his sword upon the pavement of the court and the pommel thereof he set against his breast, and he drew the bonds that held his wrists across the edge of the sword so that they were cut and he was free.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram defends the chapel] But Sir Tristram wist that in a little the whole castle would be aroused against him, and that he would certainly be overwhelmed by dint of numbers, wherefore he looked about him for some place of refuge; and he beheld that the door of the chapel which opened upon the courtyard stood ajar. So he ran into the chapel and shut to that door and another door and locked and bolted them both, and set a heavy bar of wood across both of them so that for a while he was safe.

But yet he was only safe for a little while, for about the time of early nightfall, which came not long thereafter, a great party of several score of King Mark's people came against the chapel where he was. And when they found that the doors were locked and barred, they brought rams for to batter in the chief door of the chapel.

Then Sir Tristram beheld how parlous was his case, and that he must in a little while die if he did not immediately do something to save himself. So with that he ran to a window of the chapel and opened it and looked out thence. And lo! below him and far beneath was the sea, and the rocks of the shore upon which the castle was built; and the sea and the rocks lay twelve fathoms beneath him.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram leaps into the sea] But Sir Tristram said, "Better death there than here;" and therewith finding that the door was now falling in beneath the rams, he leaped out from the window-ledge, and thence he dived down into the sea; and no one saw that terrible leap that he made. So he sank down deep into the sea, but met no rocks, so that he presently came up again safe and sound. Then, looking about him, he perceived in the twilight a cave in the rocks, and thither he swam with the intent to find shelter for a little.

Now when they who had come against him had broken into the chapel they all ran in in one great crowd, for they expected to find Sir Tristram and to do battle with him. But lo! Sir Tristram was not there, but only the empty walls. Then at first they were greatly astonished, and knew not what to think. And some who came cried out: "Is that man then a spirit that he can melt away into thin air?" But after a little, one of them perceived where the window of the chapel stood open, and therewith several of them ran thereunto and looked out, and they wist that Sir Tristram had leaped out thence into the sea.

Then they said to one another: "Either that knight is now dead, or else he will perish when the tide rises and covers the rocks; so to-night we will do no more with this business; but to-morrow we will go and find his body where it lies among the rocks of the shore." So thereupon they shut the window and went their ways.

Now Gouvernail was not at that time at Tintagel, nor did he return thereunto until all this affair was over and done. But when he came there, there were many voices to tell him what had befallen, and to all of them Gouvernail listened without saying anything.

But afterward Gouvernail went and sought out a certain knight hight Sir Santraille de Lushon, who, next to himself, was the most faithful friend to Sir Tristram at that place. To him Gouvernail said: "Messire, I do not think that Sir Tristram is dead, for he hath always been a most wonderful swimmer and diver. But if he be alive, and we do not save him, he will assuredly perish when the tide comes up and covers over those rocks amongst which he may now be hidden."

So Gouvernail and Sir Santraille went to that chapel unknown to anyone, and they went to that window whence Sir Tristram had leaped, and they opened the window, and leaned out and called upon Sir Tristram in low voices: "Sir Tristram, if thou art alive, arise and answer us, for we are friends!"

Then after a while Sir Tristram recognized Gouvernail's voice and answered them: "I am alive; but save me, or I perish in a little while." Then Gouvernail said: "Lord, are you hurt, or are you whole?" Sir Tristram replied, "I am strong and well in body, but the tide rises fast." Gouvernail said, "Messire, can you wait a little?" Sir Tristram said, "Ay; for a little, but not for too long."

[Sidenote: Gouvernail and Sir Santraille rescue Sir Tristram] Then Gouvernail and Sir Santraille withdrew from where they were and they made all haste, and they got together a great number of sheets and napkins, and tied these together and made a rope, and lowered the rope down to the rocks where Sir Tristram was. Then Sir Tristram climbed up the rope of linen and so reached the chapel in safety. And at that time it was nigh to midnight and very dark.

But when Sir Tristram stood with them in the chapel, he gave them hardly any greeting, but said at once: "Messires, how doth it fare with the Lady Belle Isoult?" For he thought of her the first of all and above all things else.

To this Sir Santraille made reply: "Sir, the lady hath been shut into a tower, and the door thereof hath been locked upon her, and she is a close prisoner."

Then Sir Tristram said: "How many knights are there in the place who are my friends, and who will stand with me to break out hence?" To this Gouvernail said: "Lord, there are twelve besides ourselves, and that makes fourteen in all who are with thee in this quarrel unto life or death."

Sir Tristram said: "Provide me presently with arms and armor and bring those twelve hither armed at all points. But first let them saddle horses for themselves and for us, and for the Lady Belle Isoult and for her waiting-woman, Dame Bragwaine. When this is done, we will depart from this place unto some other place of refuge, and I do not think there will be any in the castle will dare stop or stay us after we are armed."

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram arms himself] So it was done as Sir Tristram commanded, and when all those were gathered together, and their horses ready, Sir Tristram and several of the knights of his party went openly to that tower where the Lady Belle Isoult was prisoner. And they burst open the doors and went in with torches, and found Belle Isoult and her attendant in the upper part of the castle.

But when Belle Isoult beheld the face of Sir Tristram, she said: "Is it thou, my love; and art thou still alive, and art thou come tome?" Sir Tristram said: "Yea, I am still alive nor will I die, God willing, until I have first brought thee out of this wicked castle and into some place of safety. And never again will I entrust thee unto King Mark's hands; for I have great fear that if he have thee in his hands he will work vengeance upon thee so as to strike at my heart through thee. So, dear love, I come to take thee away from this place; and never again right or wrong, shalt thou be without the shelter of my arm."

Then the Lady Belle Isoult smiled very wonderfully upon Sir Tristram so that her face appeared to shine with a great illumination of love. And she said: "Tristram, I will go with thee whithersoever thou wilt. Yea, I would go with thee even to the grave, for I believe that I should be happy even there, so that thou wert lying beside me."

Then Sir Tristram groaned in spirit and he said: "Isoult, what have I done, that I should always bring unhappiness upon thee?" But the Lady Belle Isoult spake very steadily, saying: "Never unhappiness, Tristram, but always happiness; for I have thy love for aye, and thou hast mine in the same measure, and in that is happiness, even in tears and sorrow, and never unhappiness."

With that Sir Tristram kissed Belle Isoult upon the forehead, and then he lifted her up and carried her in his arms down the stairs of the tower and sat her upon her horse. And Bragwaine followed after, and Gouvernail lifted her up upon her horse.

[Sidenote: Sir Tristram taketh Belle Isoult away from Tintagel] Now all they of that castle were amazed beyond measure to find all those knights armed and prepared for battle so suddenly in their midst. And most of all were they filled with terror to find Sir Tristram at the head of these knights. Wherefore when Sir Tristram made demand that they should open the portcullis of the castle and let fall the drawbridge, the porters thereof dared not refuse him, but did as he said.

So Sir Tristram and his knights rode forth with the Lady Belle Isoult and Bragwaine and no one stayed them. And they rode into the forest, betaking their way toward a certain castle of Sir Tristram's, which they reached in the clear dawning of the daytime.

And so Sir Tristram brought the Lady Belle Isoult away from Tintagel and into safety.

Chapter Fourth

_How Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult returned to Cornwall and how they ended their days together._

And now remaineth to be told the rest of these adventures of Sir Tristram as briefly as may be.

For indeed I thought not, when I began this history, to tell you as much concerning him as I have done. But as I have entered into this history I have come so strongly to perceive how noble and true and loyal was the knighthood of Sir Tristram, that I could not forbear telling you of many things that I had not purposed to speak of.

Yet, as I have said before this, there are a great many adventures that I have not spoken of in this book. For I have told only those things that were necessary for to make you understand how it fared with him in his life.

So now shall be told those last things that concerned him.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot reproves King Mark] Now two days after those things aforesaid had come to pass, Sir Launcelot returned unto Tintagel from that quest which he had been upon, and so soon as he came thither he made inquiry of King Mark concerning the welfare of that madman of the forest whom he had left in the care of King Mark. But when he heard that that madman was Sir Tristram, he was astonished beyond all measure; but when he heard how Sir Tristram had been served by King Mark and by the people of the castle under the lead of Sir Andred, he was filled with a great and violent indignation. So he arose and stood before King Mark and said: "Lord King, I have heard much ill said of thee and shameful things concerning thy unknightliness in several courts of chivalry where I have been; and now I know that those things were true; for I have heard from the lips of many people here, how thou didst betray Sir Tristram into bringing the Lady Belle Isoult unto thee; and I have heard from many how thou dost ever do ill and wickedly by him, seeking to take from him both his honor and his life. And yet Sir Tristram hath always been thy true and faithful knight, and hath served thee in all ways thou hast demanded of him. I know that thou hast jealousy for Sir Tristram in thy heart and that thou hast ever imputed wickedness and sin unto him. Yet all the world knoweth that Sir Tristram is a true knight and altogether innocent of any evil. For all the evil which thou hast imputed to him hath no existence saving only in thine own evil heart. Now I give thee and all thy people to know that had ill befallen Sir Tristram at your hands I should have held you accountable therefor and should have punished you in such a way that you would not soon have forgotten it. But of that there is no need, for Sir Tristram himself hath punished you in full measure without any aid from me. So now I will go away from this place and will never come hither again; nor will I acknowledge you should I meet you in court or in field."

So saying, Sir Launcelot turned and went away from that place very proudly and haughtily, leaving them all abashed at his rebuke.

[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot findeth Sir Tristram and Belle Isoult in the forest] So that day Sir Launcelot went forward through the forest until he reached that castle whereunto Sir Tristram had taken the Lady Belle Isoult, and there he was received by Sir Tristram with all joy and honor. And Sir Launcelot abided at that place for two days, with great pleasure to himself and to Sir Tristram and to Belle Isoult.

At the end of that time Sir Launcelot said to Sir Tristram: "Messire, it is not well that you and this dear lady should abide here so nigh to Tintagel. For, certes, King Mark will some time work some grievous ill upon you. So I beseech you to come with me unto my castle of Joyous Gard. There this lady shall reign queen paramount and we shall be her very faithful servants to do her pleasure in all ways. That castle is a very beautiful place, and there she may dwell in peace and safety and tranquillity all the days of her life if she chooses to do so."

[Sidenote: They depart for Joyous Gard] Now that saying of Sir Launcelot's seemed good to Sir Tristram and to Belle Isoult; wherefore in three days all they and their court made ready to depart. And they did depart from that castle in the forest unto Joyous Gard, where they were received with great honor and rejoicing.

So the Lady Belle Isoult abided for three years at Joyous Gard, dwelling there as queen paramount in all truth and innocence of life; and Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram were her champions and all their courts were her servants. And during those three years there were many famous joustings held at Joyous Gard, and several bel-adventures were performed both by Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram in her honor.

And indeed I believe that this was the happiest time of all the Lady Belle Isoult's life, for she lived there in peace and love and tranquillity and she suffered neither grief nor misfortune in all that time.

[Sidenote: King Arthur comes to Joyous Gard] Then one day there came King Arthur to Joyous Gard, and he was received with such joy and celebration as that place had never before beheld. A great feast was set in his honor, and after the feast King Arthur and Sir Tristram and Belle Isoult withdrew to one side and sat together in converse.

Then after a while King Arthur said, "Lady, may I ask you a question?" And at that Lady Belle Isoult lifted up her eyes and looked very strangely upon the King, and after a while she said, "Ask thy question, Lord King, and I will answer it if I can." "Lady," said King Arthur, "answer me this question: is it better to dwell in honor with sadness or in dishonor with joy?"

Then Belle Isoult began to pant with great agitation, and by and by she said, "Lord, why ask you me that?" King Arthur said: "Because, lady, I think your heart hath sometimes asked you the selfsame question." Then the Lady Belle Isoult clasped her hands together and cried out: "Yea, yea, my heart hath often asked me that question, but I would not answer it." King Arthur said: "Neither shalt thou answer me, for I am but a weak and erring man as thou art a woman. But answer thou that question to God, dear lady, and then thou shalt answer it in truth."

Therewith King Arthur fell to talking of other things with Sir Tristram, but the lady could not join them in talk, but sat thenceforth in silence, finding it hard to breathe because of the oppression of tears that lay upon her bosom.

And Belle Isoult said no more concerning that question that King Arthur had asked. But three days after that time she came to Sir Tristram and said: "Dear lord, I have bethought me much of what King Arthur said, and this hath come of it, that I must return again unto Cornwall."

Then Sir Tristram turned away his face so that she might not see it, and he said, "Methought it would come to that." And then in a little he went away from that place, leaving her standing there.

So it came about that peace was made betwixt Sir Tristram and King Mark, and Belle Isoult and King Mark, and King Arthur was the peacemaker.

[Sidenote: Belle Isoult scorns King Mark] Thereafter Sir Tristram and his court and the Lady Belle Isoult returned unto Cornwall, and there they dwelt for some time in seeming peace. But in that time the Lady Belle Isoult would never see King Mark nor exchange a word with him, but lived entirely apart from him and in her own life in a part of the castle; and at that King Mark was struck with such bitterness of despair that he was like to a demon in torment. For he saw, as it were, a treasure very near and yet afar, for he could not come unto it. And the more he suffered that torment, the more he hated Sir Tristram, for in his suffering it appeared to him that Sir Tristram was the cause of that suffering.

So it came about that King Mark set spies to watch Sir Tristram, for in his evil heart he suspected Sir Tristram of treason, and he hoped that his spies might discover Sir Tristram in some act for which he might be punished. So those spies watched Sir Tristram both night and day, but they could find nothing that he did that was amiss.

Now one day Belle Isoult felt such a longing for Sir Tristram that she could not refrain from sending a note to him beseeching him for to come to her so that they might see one another again; and though Sir Tristram misdoubted what he did, yet he went as she desired, even if it should mean the peril of death to him.

Then came those spies to King Mark and told him that Sir Tristram was gone to the bower of the Lady Belle Isoult, and that she had bidden him to come thither.

At that the vitals of King Mark were twisted with such an agony of hatred and despair that he bent him double and cried out, "Woe! Woe! I suffer torments!"

[Sidenote: King Mark spies upon Sir Tristram and Isoult] Therewith he arose and went very quickly to that part of the castle where the Lady Belle Isoult inhabited; and he went very softly up by a back way and through a passage to where was a door with curtains hanging before it; and when he had come there he parted the curtains and peeped within. And he beheld that the Lady Belle Isoult and Sir Tristram sat at a game of chess, and he beheld that they played not at the game but that they sat talking together very sadly; and he beheld that Dame Bragwaine sat in a deep window to one side--for Belle Isoult did not wish it to be said that she and Sir Tristram sat alone.

All this King Mark saw and trembled with a torment of jealousy. So by and by he left that place and went very quietly back into that passageway whence he had come. And when he had come there he perceived a great glaive upon a pole two ells long. This he took into his hand and returned unto that curtained doorway again.

Then being in all ways prepared he parted the curtains silently and stepped very quickly and without noise into the room. And the back of Sir Tristram was toward him.

Then King Mark lifted the glaive on high and he struck; and Sir Tristram sank without a sound.

Yea, I believe that that good knight knew naught of what had happened until he awoke in Paradise to find himself in that realm of happiness and peace.

[Sidenote: Of the passing of Tristram and Isoult] Then Belle Isoult arose, overturning the table of chessmen as she did so, but she made no outcry nor sound of any sort. But she stood looking down at Sir Tristram for a little space, and then she kneeled down beside his body and touched the face thereof as though to make sure that it was dead. Therewith, as though being assured, she fell down with her body upon his; and King Mark stood there looking down upon them.

All this had passed so quickly that Dame Bragwaine hardly knew what had befallen; but now, upon an instant, she suddenly fell to shrieking so piercingly that the whole castle rang with the sound thereof.

Now there were in the outer room several of the knights of the court of Sir Tristram who had come thither with him as witnesses that he performed no treason to the King. These, when Dame Bragwaine shrieked in that wise, came running into the room and therewith beheld what had happened. Then all they stood aghast at that sight.

[Sidenote: Sir Alexander slays King Mark] But there was in the court of Sir Tristram a very young, gallant knight hight Sir Alexander. This knight came to where King Mark stood looking down upon his handiwork as though entranced with what he had done. Then Sir Alexander said to King Mark, "Is this thy work?" And King Mark raised his eyes very heavily and looked at Sir Alexander and he answered, "Ay!" Then Sir Alexander cried out, "Thou hast lived too long!" And therewith drawing his misericordia, he catched King Mark by the left wrist and lifted his arm. And Sir Alexander drave the dagger into the side of King Mark, and King Mark groaned and sank down upon the ground, and in a little while died where he lay.

Then those knights went to where the Lady Belle Isoult lay and lifted her up; but, lo! the soul had left her, and she was dead. For I believe that it was not possible for one of those loving souls to leave its body with out the other quitting its body also, so that they might meet together in Paradise. For there never were two souls in all the history of chivalry that clave to one another so tenderly as did the souls of Tristram and Isoult.

So endeth this story of Sir Tristram, with only this to say, that they two were buried with the graves close together, and that it is said by many who have written of them that there grew a rose-tree up from Sir Tristram's grave, and down upon the grave of Belle Isoult; and it is said that this rose-tree was a miracle, for that upon his grave there grew red roses, and upon her grave there grew pure white roses. For her soul was white like to thrice-carded wool, and so his soul was red with all that was of courage or knightly pride.

And I pray that God may rest the souls of those two as I pray He may rest the souls of all of us who must some time go the way that those two and so many others have travelled before us. Amen.

The Book of Sir Percival

_Here beginneth the story of Sir Percival of Gales, who was considered to be one of the three great knights of the Round Table at that time. For, if Sir Launcelot was the chiefest of all the knights who ever came unto King Arthur's court, then it is hard to say whether Sir Tristram of Lyonesse or Sir Percival of Gales was second unto him in renown_.

_And I pray that it shall be given unto all of ye to live as brave and honorable and pure a life as he did; and that you, upon your part, may claim a like glory and credit in the world in which you dwell by such noble behavior as he exhibited_.

Prologue.

The father of Sir Percival was that king hight Pellinore who fought so terrible a battle with King Arthur as has been told in the Book of King Arthur. For it was after that fight that King Arthur obtained his famous sword Excalibur, as was therein told.

Now, King Pellinore was one of those eleven kings who, in the beginning of King Arthur's reign, were in rebellion against King Arthur as hath been told in the book aforesaid, and he was one of the last of all those kings to yield when he was overcome. So King Arthur drove him from town to town and from place to place until, at last, he was driven away from the habitations of men and into the forests like to a wild beast.

[Sidenote: King Pellinore fleeth to the wilderness] Now, King Pellinore took with him into the wilderness his wife and his four sons; to wit, Lamorack and Aglaval and Dornar and Percival. Of these, Percival was but three years of age; the others, excepting Dornar, being nigh to the estate of manhood. Thereafter that noble family dwelt in the forest like hunted animals, and that was a very great hardship for the lady who had been queen; and, likewise, it was greatly to the peril of the young child, Percival.

Now, Percival was extraordinarily beautiful and his mother loved him above all her other sons. Wherefore she feared lest the young child should die of those hardships in the wilderness.

So one day King Pellinore said: "Dear love, I am now in no wise prepared for to defend thee and this little one. Wherefore, for a while, I shall put ye away from me so that ye may remain in secret hiding until such time as the child shall have grown in years and stature to the estate of manhood and may so defend himself.

"Now of all my one-time possessions I have only two left to me. One of these is a lonely castle in this forest (unto which I am now betaking my way), and the other is a solitary tower at a great distance from this, and in a very desolate part of the world where there are many mountains. Unto that place I shall send ye, for it will not be likely that mine enemies will ever find ye there.

"So my will is this: that if this child groweth in that lonely place to manhood, and if he be weak in body or timid in spirit, thou shalt make of him a clerk of holy orders. But if when he groweth, he shall prove to be strong and lusty of frame and high of spirit, and shall desire to undertake deeds of knighthood, thou then shalt not stay him from his desires, but shall let him go forth into the world as he shall have a mind to do.

"And if a time should come when he desireth to go thus into the world behold! here is a ring set with a very precious ruby; let him bring that ring to me or to any of our sons wheresoever he may find us, and by that ring we shall know that he is my son and their brother, and we will receive him with great gladness."

[Sidenote: Percival's mother taketh him to the mountains] And King Pellinore's lady said, "It shall be done as thou dost ordain." So it was that King Pellinore betook himself to that lonely castle where King Arthur found him and fought with him; and Percival's mother betook herself to that dwelling-place in the mountains of which King Pellinore had spoken--which was a single tower that reached up into the sky, like unto a finger of stone.

There she abided with Percival for sixteen years, and in all that time Percival knew naught of the world nor of what sort it was, but grew altogether wild and was entirely innocent like to a little child.

In the mean time, during those years, it happened very ill to the house of King Pellinore. For though King Arthur became reconciled to King Pellinore, yet there were in King Arthur's court many who were bitter enemies to that good, worthy knight. So it came about that first King Pellinore was slain by treachery, and then Sir Aglaval and Sir Dornar were slain in the same way, so that Sir Lamorack alone was left of all that noble family.

(And it was said that Sir Gawaine and his brothers were implicated in those murders--they being enemies unto King Pellinore--and great reproach hath always clung to them for the treacherous, unknightly way in which those noble knights of the house of Pellinore were slain.)

[Sidenote: Percival's mother grieveth for the death of her dear ones] Now the news of those several deaths was brought to that lonely tower of the mountain wilderness and to Sir Percival's mother; and when she heard how her husband and two of her sons were dead she gave great outcry of grief, and smote her hands together and wept with great passion. And she cried out: "Mefeareth it will be the time of Lamorack next to be slain. As for Percival; never shall I be willing for him to go out into that cruel world of wicked murderers. For if he should perish also, my heart would surely break."

[Sidenote: How Percival dwelt in the mountains] So she kept Percival always with her and in ignorance of all that concerned the world of knighthood. And though Percival waxed great of body and was beautiful and noble of countenance, yet he dwelt there among those mountains knowing no more of the world that lay beyond that place in which he dwelt than would a little innocent child. Nor did he ever see anyone from the outside world, saving only an old man who was a deaf-mute. And this old man came and went betwixt that tower where Percival and his mother dwelt and the outer world, and from the world he would come back with clothing and provisions loaded upon an old sumpter horse for Percival and his mother and their few attendants. Yet Percival marvelled many times whence those things came, but no one told him and so he lived in entire ignorance of the world.

And Percival's mother would not let him touch any weapon saving only a small Scot's spear which same is a sort of javelin. But with this Percival played every day of his life until he grew so cunning in handling it that he could pierce with it a bird upon the wing in the air.

Now it chanced upon a time when Percival was nineteen years of age that he stood upon a pinnacle of rock and looked down into a certain valley. And it was very early in the spring-time, so that the valley appeared, as it were, to be carpeted all with clear, thin green. There was a shining stream of water that ran down through the midst of the valley, and it was a very fair and peaceful place to behold.

[Sidenote: Percival beholds a knight-rider] So Percival stood and gazed into that low-land, and lo! a knight rode up through that valley, and the sun shone out from behind a cloud of rain and smote upon his armor so that it appeared to be all ablaze as with pure light, and Percival beheld that knight and wist not what it was he saw. So, after the knight had gone away from the valley, he ran straightway to his mother, all filled with a great wonder, and he said: "Mother! Mother! I have beheld a very wonderful thing." She said, "What was it thou didst see?" Percival said: "I beheld somewhat that was like a man, and he rode upon a horse, and he shone very brightly and with exceeding splendor. Now, I prithee tell me what it was I saw?"

Then Percival's mother knew very well what it was he had seen, and she was greatly troubled at heart, for she wist that if Percival's knightly spirit should be awakened he would no longer be content to dwell in those peaceful solitudes. Wherefore she said to herself: "How is this? Is it to be that this one lamb also shall be taken away from me and nothing left to me of all my flock?" Then she said to Percival: "My son, that which thou didst behold was doubtless an angel." And Percival said, "I would that I too were an angel!" And at that speech the lady, his mother, sighed very deeply.

Now it chanced upon the next day after that that Percival and his mother went down into the forest that lay at the foot of the mountain whereon that tower stood, and they had intent to gather such early flowers of the spring-time as were then abloom. And whilst they were there, lo! there came five knights riding through the forest, and, the leaves being thin like to a mist of green, Percival perceived them a great way off. So he cried out in a loud voice: "Mother! Mother! Behold! Yonder is a whole company of angels such as I saw yesterday! Now I will go and give them greeting."

But his mother said: "How now! How now! Wouldst thou make address unto angels!" And Percival said: "Yea; for they appear to be both mild of face and gentle of mien." So he went forward for to greet those knights.

[Sidenote: Percival holds discourse with five knights] Now the foremost of that party of knights was Sir Ewaine, who was always both gentle and courteous to everybody. Wherefore, when Sir Ewaine saw Percival nigh at hand, he gave him greeting and said, "Fair youth, what is thy name?" Unto this Percival made reply: "My name is Percival." Sir Ewaine said: "That is a very good name, and thy face likewise is so extraordinarily comely that I take thee to be of some very high lineage. Now tell me, I prithee, who is thy father?" To this Percival said, "I cannot tell thee what is my lineage, for I do not know," and at that Sir Ewaine marvelled a very great deal. Then, after a little while, he said: "I prithee tell me, didst thou see a knight pass this way to-day or yesterday?" And Percival said, "I know not what sort of a thing is a knight." Sir Ewaine said, "A knight is such a sort of man as I am."

Upon this Percival understood many things that he did not know before, and he willed with all his soul to know more than those. Wherefore he said: "If thou wilt answer several questions for me, I will gladly answer thine." Upon this Sir Ewaine smiled very cheerfully (for he liked Percival exceedingly), and he said: "Ask what thou wilt and I will answer thee in so far as I am able."

So Percival said, "I prithee tell me what is this thing?" And he laid his hand thereon. And Sir Ewaine said, "That is a saddle." And Percival said, "What is this thing?" And Sir Ewaine said, "That is a sword." And Percival said, "What is this thing?" And Sir Ewaine said, "That is a shield." And so Percival asked him concerning all things that appertained to the accoutrements of a knight, and Sir Ewaine answered all his questions. Then Percival said: "Now I will answer thy question. I saw a knight ride past this way yesterday, and he rode up yonder valley and to the westward."

Upon this Sir Ewaine gave gramercy to Percival and saluted him, and so did the other knights, and they rode their way.

After they had gone Percival returned to his mother, and he beheld that she sat exactly where he had left her, for she was in great travail of soul because she perceived that Percival would not now stay with her very much longer. And when Percival came to where she sat he said to her: "Mother, those were not angels, but very good, excellent knights." And upon this the lady, his mother, burst into a great passion of weeping, so that Percival stood before her all abashed, not knowing why she wept. So by and by he said, "Mother, why dost thou weep?" But she could not answer him for a while, and after a while she said, "Let us return homeward." And so they walked in silence.

Now when they had come to the tower where they dwelt, the lady turned of a sudden unto Percival and she said to him, "Percival, what is in thy heart?" And he said, "Mother, thou knowest very well what is there." She said, "Is it that thou wouldst be a knight also?" And he said, "Thou sayst it." And upon that she said, "Thou shalt have thy will; come with me."

So Percival's mother led him to the stable and to where was that poor pack-horse that brought provisions to that place, and she said: "This is a sorry horse but I have no other for thee. Now let us make a saddle for him." So Percival and his mother twisted sundry cloths and wisps of hay and made a sort of a saddle thereof. And Percival's mother brought him a scrip with bread and cheese for his refreshment and she hung it about his shoulder. And she brought him his javelin which he took in his hand. And then she gave him the ring of King Pellinore with that precious ruby jewel inset into it, and she said: "Take thou this, Percival, and put it upon thy finger, for it is a royal ring. Now when thou leavest me, go unto the court of King Arthur and make diligent inquiry for Sir Lamorack of Gales. And when thou hast found him, show him that ring, and he will see that thou art made a very worthy knight; for, Percival, Sir Lamorack is thy brother. One time thou hadst a father alive, and thou hadst two other brothers. But all they were slain by treachery of our enemies, and only thou and Lamorack are left; so look to it that thou guard thyself when thou art in the world and in the midst of those enemies; for if thou shouldst perish at their hands, I believe my heart would break."

[Sidenote: Percival's mother giveth him advice] Then she gave Percival advice concerning the duty of one who would make himself worthy of knighthood, and that advice was as follows: "In thy journeying thou art to observe these sundry things: When thou comest to a church or a shrine say a pater-noster unto the glory of God; and if thou hearest a cry of anyone in trouble, hasten to lend thine aid--especially if it be a woman or a child who hath need of it; and if thou meet a lady or a damosel, salute her in seemly fashion; and if thou have to do with a man, be both civil and courageous unto him; and if thou art an-hungered or athirst and findest food and wine, eat and drink enough to satisfy thee, but no more; and if thou findest a treasure or a jewel of price and canst obtain those things without injustice unto another, take that thing for thine own--but give that which thou hast with equal freedom unto others. So, by obeying these precepts, thou shalt become worthy to be a true knight and, haply, be also worthy of thy father, who was a true knight before thee."

And Percival said, "All these things will I remember and observe to do."

And Percival's mother said, "But thou wilt not forget me, Percival?"

[Sidenote: Percival departs from the mountain] And he said: "Nay, mother; but when I have got me power and fame and wealth, then will I straightway return thitherward and take thee away from this place, and thou shalt be like to a Queen for all the glory that I shall bestow upon thee." Upon this the lady, his mother, both laughed and wept; and Percival stooped and kissed her upon the lips. Then he turned and left her, and he rode away down the mountain and into the forest, and she stood and gazed after him as long as she could see him. And she was very lonely after he had gone.

So I have told you how it came that Percival went out into the world for to become a famous knight.

Chapter First

_How Percival departed into the world and how he found a fair damsel in a pavilion; likewise how he came before Queen Guinevere and how he undertook his first adventure_.

[Sidenote: Percival maketh himself armor of willow twigs] Now after Percival had ridden upon his way for a very long time, he came at last out of that part of the forest and unto a certain valley where were many osiers growing along beside a stream of water. So he gathered branches of the willow-trees and peeled them and wove them very cunningly into the likeness of armor such as he had seen those knights wear who had come into his forest. And when he had armed himself with wattled osiers he said unto himself, "Now am I accoutred as well as they." Whereupon he rode upon his way with an heart enlarged with joy.

By and by he came out of the forest altogether and unto a considerable village where were many houses thatched with straw. And Percival said to himself: "Ha! how great is the world; I knew not that there were so many people in the world."

[Sidenote: How Percival rode in the world] But when the folk of that place beheld what sort of a saddle was upon the back of the pack-horse; and when they beheld what sort of armor it was that Percival wore--all woven of osier twigs; and when they beheld how he was armed with a javelin and with no other weapon, they mocked and laughed at him and jeered him. But Percival understood not their mockery, whereupon he said: "Lo! how pleasant and how cheerful is the world. I knew not it was so merry a place." So he laughed and nodded and gave them greeting who mocked him in that manner. And some of them said, "That is a madman." And others said, "Nay, he is a silly fool." And when Percival heard these he said to himself: "I wonder whether there are other sorts of knights that I have not yet heard tell of?"

So he rode upon his way very happy, and whenever he met travellers, they would laugh at him; but he would laugh louder than they and give them greeting because of pure pleasure that the great world was so merry and kind.

Now in the declining of the afternoon, he came to a certain pleasant glade, and there he beheld a very noble and stately pavilion in among the trees, And that pavilion was all of yellow satin so that it shone like to gold in the light of the declining sun.

Then Percival said to himself: "Verily, this must be one of those churches concerning which my mother spake to me." So he descended from his horse and went to that pavilion and knelt down and said a pater-noster.

[Sidenote: Percival enters the golden pavilion] And when he had ended that prayer, he arose and went into the pavilion, and lo! he beheld there a wonderfully beautiful young damsel of sixteen years of age who sat in the pavilion upon a carved bench and upon a cushion of cloth of gold, and who bent over a frame of embroidery, which she was busy weaving in threads of silver and gold. And the hair of that damosel was as black as ebony and her cheeks were like rose leaves for redness, and she wore a fillet of gold around her head, and she was clad in raiment of sky blue silk. And near by was a table spread with meats of divers sorts and likewise with several wines, both white and red. And all the goblets were of silver and all the pattens were of gold, and the table was spread with a napkin embroidered with threads of gold.

Now you are to know that the young lady who sat there was the Lady Yvette the Fair, the daughter of King Pecheur.

When Percival came to that pavilion the Lady Yvette looked up and beheld him with great astonishment, and she said to herself: "That must either be a madman or a foolish jester who comes hither clad all in armor of wattled willow twigs." So she said to him, "Sirrah, what dost thou here?" He said, "Lady, is this a church?" Upon that she was angered thinking that he had intended to make a jest and she said: "Begone, fool, for if my father, who is King Pecheur, cometh and findeth thee here, he will punish thee for this jest." But Percival replied, "Nay; I think he will not, lady."

Then the damosel looked at Percival more narrowly and she beheld how noble and beautiful was his countenance and she said to herself: "This is no fool nor a jester, but who he is or what he is I know not."

[Sidenote: Percival breaks bread in the golden pavilion] So she said to Percival, "Whence comest thou?" and he said, "From the mountains and the wilderness." Then he said: "Lady, when I left my mother she told me that whenever I saw good food and drink and was an-hungered, I was to take what I needed. Now I will do so in this case." Whereupon he sat him down to that table and fell to with great appetite.

Then when that damosel beheld what he did she laughed in great measure and clapped her hands together in sport. And she said: "If my father and brothers should return and find thee at this, they would assuredly punish thee very sorely, and thou couldst not make thyself right with them." Percival said, "Why would they do that, lady?" And she said: "Because that is their food and drink, and because my father is a king and my brethren are his sons." Then Percival said, "Certes, they would be uncourteous to begrudge food to a hungry man"; and thereat the damsel laughed again.

Now when Percival had eaten and drunk his fill, he arose from where he sat. And he beheld that the damsel wore a very beautiful ring of carved gold set with a pearl of great price. So he said to her: "Lady, my mother told me that if I beheld a jewel or treasure and desired it for my own, I was to take it if I could do so without offence to anyone. Now I prithee give me that ring upon thy finger, for I desire it a very great deal." At this the maiden regarded Percival very strangely, and she beheld that he was comely beyond any man whom she had ever seen and that his countenance was very noble and exalted and yet exceedingly mild and gentle. So she said to him, speaking very gently, "Why should I give thee my ring?" Whereunto he made reply: "Because thou art the most beautiful lady whom mine eyes ever beheld and I find that I love thee more than I had thought possible to love anyone."

At that the damosel smiled upon him and said, "What is thy name?" And he said, "It is Percival." She said, "That is a good name; who is thy father?" Whereunto he said: "That I cannot tell thee for my mother hath bidden me tell his name to no one yet whiles." She said, "I think he must be some very noble and worthy knight," and Percival said, "He is all that, for he too was a king."

[Sidenote: The damsel giveth Percival her ring] Then the damsel said, "Thou mayst have my ring," and she gave it to him. And when Percival had placed it upon his finger he said: "My mother also told me that I should give freely of what is mine own, wherefore I do give thee this ring of mine in exchange for thine, and I do beseech thee to wear it until I have proved myself worthy of thy kindness. For I hope to win a very famous knighthood and great praise and renown, all of which, if I so accomplish my desires, shall be to thy great glory. I would fain come to thee another time in that wise instead of as I am at this present."

At that the damsel said: "I know not what thou art or whence thou comest who should present thyself in such an extraordinary guise as thou art pleased to do, but, certes, thou must be of some very noble strain. Wherefore I do accept thee for my knight, and I believe that I shall some time have great glory through thee."

[Sidenote: Percival salutes the damsel of the golden pavilion] Then Percival said: "Lady, my mother said to me that if I met a damosel I was to salute her with all civility. Now have I thy leave to salute thee?" And she said, "Thou hast my leave." So Percival took her by the hand, and kissed her upon the lips (for that was the only manner in which he knew how to salute a woman) and, lo! her face grew all red like to fire. Thereupon Percival quitted that pavilion and mounted his horse and rode away. And it seemed to him that the world was assuredly a very beautiful and wonderful place for to live in.

Yet he knew not what the world was really like nor of what a sort it was nor how passing wide, else had he not been so certainly assured that he would win him credit therein, or that he could so easily find that young damsel again after he had thus parted from her.

That night Percival came to a part of the forest where were many huts of folk who made their living by gathering fagots. These people gave him harborage and shelter for the night, for they thought that he was some harmless madman who had wandered afar. And they told him many things he had never known before that time, so that it appeared to him that the world was still more wonderful than he had thought it to be at first.

So he abided there for the night, and when the next morning had come he arose and bathed himself and went his way; and, as he rode upon his poor starved horse, he brake his fast with the bread and cheese that his mother had put into his wallet, and he was very glad at heart and rejoiced exceedingly in the wonderfulness and the beauty of the world in which he found himself to be.

[Sidenote: How Percival travelled in the forest] So Percival journeyed on into that forest, and he took such great delight in the beauty of the world in which he travelled that he was at times like to shed tears of pure happiness because of the joy he felt in being alive. For that forest path he travelled led beneath the trees of the woodland; and the trees at that time were in their early tender leaf, so that they appeared to shed showers of golden light everywhere down upon the earth. And the birds of the woodland sang in every bush and thicket; and, anon, the wood pigeon cooed so softly that the heart of Percival yearned with great passion for he knew not what.

Thus he rode, somewhiles all in a maze of green, and somewhiles out thence into an open glade where the light was wide and bright; and other whiles he came to some forest stream where was a shallow pool of golden gravel, and where the water was so thin and clear that you might not tell where it ended and the pure air began. And therethrough he would drive his horse, splashing with great noise, whilst the little silvery fish would dart away upon all sides, hither and thither, like sparks of light before his coming.

So, because of the beauty of this forest land in its spring-time verdure and pleasantness, the heart of Percival was uplifted with so much joy and delight that he was like to weep for pure pleasure as aforesaid.

Now it chanced at that time that King Arthur and several of his court had come into that forest ahawking; but, the day being warm, the Queen had grown weary of the sport, so she had commanded her attendants to set up a pavilion for her whilst the King continued his hawking. And the pavilion was pitched in an open glade of the forest whereunto Percival came riding.

Then Percival perceived that pavilion set up among the trees, and likewise he saw that the pavilion was of rose colored silk. Also he perceived that not far from him was a young page very gayly and richly clad.

[Sidenote: Percival bespeaketh the Lady Guinevere's page] Now when the page beheld Percival and what a singular appearance he presented, he laughed beyond all measure, and Percival, not knowing that he laughed in mockery, laughed also and gave him a very cheerful greeting in return. Then Percival said to the page: "I prithee tell me, fair youth, whose is that pavilion yonder?" And the page said: "It belongeth to Queen Guinevere; for King Arthur is coming hither into the forest with his court."

At this Percival was very glad, for he deemed that he should now find Sir Lamorack. So he said: "I pray thee tell me, is Sir Lamorack of Gales with the court of the King, for I come hither seeking that good worthy knight?"

Then the page laughed a very great deal, and said: "Who art thou to seek Sir Lamorack? Art thou then a jester?" And Percival said, "What sort of a thing is a jester?" And the page said, "Certes, thou art a silly fool." And Percival said, "What is a fool?"

Upon this the page fell alaughing as though he would never stint his mirth so that Percival began to wax angry for he said to himself: "These people laugh too much and their mirth maketh me weary." So, without more ado, he descended from his horse with intent to enter the Queen's pavilion and to make inquiry there for Sir Lamorack.

Now when that page saw what Percival had a mind to do, he thrust in to prevent him, saying, "Thou shalt not go in!" Upon that Percival said, "Ha! shall I not so?" And thereupon he smote the page such a buffet that the youth fell down without any motion, as though he had gone dead.

Then Percival straightway entered the Queen's pavilion.

[Sidenote: Percival beholdeth Queen Guinevere] And the first thing he saw was a very beautiful lady surrounded by a court of ladies. And the Queen was eating a mid-day repast whilst a page waited upon her for to serve her, bearing for her refreshment pure wine in a cup of entire gold. And he saw that a noble lord (and the lord was Sir Kay the Seneschal), stood in the midst of that beautiful rosy pavilion directing the Queen's repast; for Sir Kay of all the court had been left in charge of the Queen and her ladies.

Now when Percival entered the tent Sir Kay looked up, and when he perceived what sort of a figure was there, he frowned with great displeasure. "Ha!" he said, "what mad fool is this who cometh hitherward?"

Unto him Percival made reply: "Thou tall man, I prithee tell me, which of these ladies present here is the Queen?" Sir Kay said, "What wouldst thou have with the Queen?" To this Percival said: "I have come hither for to lay my case before King Arthur, and my case is this: I would fain obtain knighthood, and meseems that King Arthur may best help me thereunto."

[Sidenote: Sir Kay chides Percival] When the Queen heard the words of Percival she laughed with great merriment. But Sir Kay was still very wroth, and he said: "Sirrah, thou certainly art some silly fool who hath come hither dressed all in armor of willow twigs and without arms or equipment of any sort save only a little Scots spear. Now this is the Queen's court and thou art not fit to be here."

"Ha," said Percival, "it seems to me that thou art very foolish--thou tall man--to judge of me by my dress and equipment. For, even though I wear such poor apparel as this, yet I may easily be thy superior both in birth and station."

[Sidenote: Sir Boindegardus enters the Queen's pavilion] Then Sir Kay was exceedingly wroth and would have made a very bitter answer to Percival, but at that moment something of another sort befell. For, even as Percival ceased speaking, there suddenly entered the pavilion a certain very large and savage knight of an exceedingly terrible appearance; and his countenance was very furious with anger. And this knight was one Sir Boindegardus le Savage, who was held in terror by all that part of King Arthur's realm. For Sir Boindegardus was surnamed the Savage because he dwelt like a wild man in the forest in a lonely dismal castle of the woodland; and because that from this castle he would issue forth at times to rob and pillage the wayfarers who passed by along the forest byways. Many knights had gone against Sir Boindegardus, with intent either to slay him or else to make him prisoner; but some of these knights he had overcome, and from others he had escaped, so that he was as yet free to work his evil will as he chose.

So now this savage knight entered that pavilion with his helmet upon his hip and his shield upon his shoulder, and all those ladies who were there were terrified at his coming, for they wist that he came in anger with intent of mischief.

As for Sir Kay (he being clad only in a silken tunic of green color and with scarlet hosen and velvet shoes, fit for the court of a lady) he was afraid, and he wist not how to bear himself in the presence of Sir Boindegardus. Then Sir Boindegardus said, "Where is King Arthur?" And Sir Kay made no reply because of fear. Then one of the Queen's damsels said, "He is hawking out beyond here in the outskirts of the forest." Then Sir Boindegardus said: "I am sorry for that, for I had thought to find him here at this time and to show challenge to him and his entire court, for I fear no one of them. But, as King Arthur is not here, I may, at least, affront his Queen."

[Sidenote: Sir Boindegardus affronts the Queen] With that he smote the elbow of the page who held the goblet for the Queen, and the wine was splashed all in the Queen's face and over her stomacher.

Thereupon the Queen shrieked with terror, and one of her maidens ran to her aid and others came with napkins and wiped her face and her apparel and gave her words of cheer.

Then Sir Kay found courage to say: "Ha! thou art a churlish knight to so affront a lady."

With that Sir Boindegardus turned very fiercely upon him and said: "And thou likest not my behavior, thou mayst follow me hence into a meadow a little distance from this to the eastward where thou mayst avenge that affront upon my person if thou art minded to do so."

Then Sir Kay knew not what to reply for he wist that Sir Boindegardus was a very strong and terrible knight. Wherefore he said, "Thou seest that I am altogether without arms or armor." Upon that Sir Boindegardus laughed in great scorn, and therewith seized the golden goblet from the hands of the page and went out from the pavilion, and mounting his horse rode away bearing that precious chalice with him.

[Sidenote: Percival berates Sir Kay] Then the Queen fell aweeping very sorely from fright and shame, and when young Percival beheld her tears, he could not abide the sight thereof. So he cried out aloud against Sir Kay, saying: "Thou tall man! that was very ill done of thee; for, certes, with or without armor thou shouldst have taken the quarrel of this lady upon thee. For my mother told me I should take upon me the defence of all such as needed defence, but she did not say that I was to wait for arms or armor to aid me to do what was right. Now, therefore, though I know little of arms or of knighthood, I will take this quarrel upon myself and will do what I may to avenge this lady's affront, if I have her leave to do so."

And Queen Guinevere said: "Thou hast my leave, since Sir Kay does not choose to assume my quarrel."

[Sidenote: The damsel praises Percival] Now there was a certain very beautiful young damsel of the court of the Queen hight Yelande, surnamed the "Dumb Maiden," because she would hold no commerce with any knight of the court. For in all the year she had been at the court of the King, she had spoken no word to any man, nor had she smiled upon any. This damsel perceiving how comely and noble was the countenance of Percival, came to him and took him by the hand and smiled upon him very kindly. And she said to him: "Fair youth, thou hast a large and noble heart, and I feel very well assured that thou art of a sort altogether different from what thine appearance would lead one to suppose. Now I do affirm that if thou art able to carry this adventure through with thy life, thou wilt some time become one of the greatest knights in all of the world. For never did I hear tell of one who, without arm or armor, would take up a quarrel with a well-approved knight clad in full array. But indeed thy heart is as brave as thy face is comely, and I believe that thou art as noble as thy speech and manner is gentle."

[Sidenote: Sir Kay strikes the damsel] Then Sir Kay was very angry with that damsel and he said: "Truly, thou art ill taught to remain for all this year in the court of King Arthur amid the perfect flower of chivalry and yet not to have given to one of those noble and honorable knights a single word or a smile such as thou hast bestowed upon this boor." So saying, he lifted his hand and smote that damsel a box on the ear so that she screamed out aloud with pain and terror.

Upon this Percival came very close to Sir Kay and he said: "Thou discourteous tall man; now I tell thee, except that there are so many ladies here present, and one of these a Queen, I would have to do with thee in such a manner as I do not believe would be at all to thy liking. Now, first of all I shall follow yonder uncivil knight and endeavor to avenge this noble Queen for the affront he hath put upon her, and when I have done with him, then will I hope for the time to come in which I shall have to do with thee for laying hands upon this beautiful young lady who was so kind to me just now. For, in the fulness of time, I will repay the foul blow thou gavest her, and that twenty-fold."

Thereupon Percival straightway went out from that pavilion and mounted upon his sorry horse and rode away in the direction that Sir Boindegardus had taken with the golden goblet.

[Sidenote: Percival follows Sir Boindegardus] Now after a long time, he came to another level meadow of grass, and there he beheld Sir Boindegardus riding before him in great state with the golden goblet hanging to the horn of his saddle. And Sir Boindegardus wore his helmet and carried his spear in his right hand and his shield upon his other arm, and he was in all ways prepared for an encounter at arms. And when he perceived Percival come riding out of the forest in pursuit of him, he drew rein and turned. And when Percival had come nigh enough Sir Boindegardus said, "Whence comest thou, fool?" Percival replied, "I come from Queen Guinevere, her pavilion." Then Sir Boindegardus said, "Does that knight who was there follow me hitherward?" Unto which Percival made reply: "Nay, but I have followed thee with intent to punish thee for the affront which thou didst put upon Queen Guinevere."

Then Sir Boindegardus was very wroth and he said: "Thou fool; I have a very good intention for to slay thee." Therewith he raised his spear and smote Percival with it upon the back of the neck so terrible a blow that he was flung violently down from off his horse. Upon this Percival was so angry that the sky all became like scarlet before his eyes. Wherefore, when he had recovered from the blow he ran unto Sir Boindegardus and catched the spear in his hands and wrestled with such terrible strength that he plucked it away from Sir Boindegardus. And having thus made himself master of that spear, he brake it across his knee and flung it away.

[Sidenote: Percival slays Sir Boindegardus] Then Sir Boindegardus was in furious rage, wherefore he drew his bright, shining sword with intent to slay Percival. But when Percival saw what he would be at, he catched up his javelin and, running to a little distance, he turned and threw it at Sir Boindegardus with so cunning an aim that the point of the javelin entered the ocularium of the helmet of Sir Boindegardus and pierced through the eye and the brain and came out of the back of the head. Then Sir Boindegardus pitched down from off his horse all into a heap upon the ground, and Percival ran to him and stooped over him and perceived that he was dead. Then Percival said: "Well, it would seem that I have put an end to a terribly discourteous knight to ladies."

[Sidenote: King Arthur sends Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack in quest of Percival] Now a little after Percival had quitted the pavilion of Queen Guinevere, King Arthur and eleven noble knights of the court returned thither from hawking, and amongst those knights was Sir Launcelot of the Lake and Sir Lamorack of Gales. Then those who were of the Queen's court told King Arthur what had befallen, and thereat the King felt great displeasure toward Sir Kay. And he said: "Kay, not only hast thou been very discourteous in not assuming this quarrel of the Queen's, but I believe that thou, a well-approved knight, hast in thy fear of Sir Boindegardus been the cause of sending this youth upon an adventure in which he will be subject to such great danger that it may very well be that he shall hardly escape with his life. Now I will that two of you knights shall follow after that youth for to rescue him if it be not too late; and those two shall be Sir Launcelot of the Lake and Sir Lamorack of Gales. So make all haste, Messires, lest some misfortune shall befall this brave, innocent madman."

Thereupon those two knights mounted straightway upon their horses and rode away in that direction whither Percival had gone.

Chapter Second

_How Sir Percival was made knight by King Arthur; how he rode forth with Sir Lamorack and how he left Sir Lamorack in quest of adventure upon his own account; likewise how a great knight taught him craft in arms_.

So after a considerable time they came to that meadow-land where Percival had found Sir Boindegardus.

[Sidenote: How the two knights find Percival in the meadow] But when they came to that place they perceived a very strange sight. For they beheld one clad all in armor of wattled willow-twigs and that one dragged the body of an armed knight hither and thither upon the ground. So they two rode up to where that affair was toward, and when they had come nigh enough, Sir Launcelot said: "Ha, fair youth, thou art doing a very strange thing. What art thou about?"

To him Percival said: "Sir, I would get those plates of armor off this knight, and I know not how to do it!"

Then Sir Launcelot laughed, and he said: "Let be for a little while, and I will show thee how to get the plates of armor off." And he said: "How came this knight by his death."

Percival said: "Sir, this knight hath greatly insulted Queen Guinevere (that beautiful lady), and when I followed him thither with intent to take her quarrel upon me, he struck me with his spear. And when I took his spear away from him, and brake it across my knee, he drew his sword and would have slain me, only that I slew him instead."

Then Sir Launcelot was filled with amazement, and he said: "Is not that knight Sir Boindegardus?" And Percival said: "Ay." Then Sir Launcelot said: "Fair youth, know that thou hast slain one of the strongest and most terrible knights in all the world. In this thou hast done a great service unto King Arthur, so if thou wilt come with us to the court of King Arthur, he will doubtless reward thee very bountifully for what thou hast done."

Then Percival looked up into the faces of Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack and he perceived that they were very noble. So he smiled upon them and said: "Messires, I pray you tell me who you are and what is your degree." Then Sir Launcelot smiled in return and said: "I am called Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and this, my companion, is called Sir Lamorack of Gales."

[Sidenote: Percival knoweth Sir Lamorack] Then Percival wist that he stood in the presence of his own brother, and he looked into the countenance of Sir Lamorack and marvelled how noble and exalted it was. And he felt a great passion of love for Sir Lamorack, and a great joy in that love. But he did not tell Sir Lamorack who he was, for he had learned several things since he had come out into the world, and one was that he must not be too hasty in such things. So he said to himself: "I will not as yet tell my brother who I am, lest he shall be ashamed of me. But first I shall win me such credit that he shall not be ashamed of me, and then I will acknowledge to him who I am."

Then Sir Launcelot said: "I prithee, fair youth, tell me what is thy name since I have told thee ours, for I find that I have great love for thee so that I would fain know who thou art."

Then Percival said: "My name is Percival."

At that Sir Lamorack cried out: "I knew one whose name was Percival, and he was mine own brother. And if he be alive he must now be just such a youth as thou art."

Then Percival's heart yearned toward Sir Lamorack, so that he looked up and smiled with great love into his face; yet he would not acknowledge to Sir Lamorack who he was, but held his peace for that while.

Then Sir Launcelot said: "Now, fair youth, we will show you how to take the armor off of this dead knight, and after we have done that, we shall take you back to King Arthur, so that he may reward you for what you have done in the way that he may deem best."

[Sidenote: The two knights arm Percival] So with that Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack dismounted from their horses, and they went to that dead knight and unlaced his armor and removed the armor from his body. And when they had done that they aided Percival to remove the armor of wattled osier twigs and they cased him in the armor of Sir Boindegardus; and thereafter they all three rode back to that pavilion where the King and Queen were holding court.

But when King Arthur heard that Sir Boindegardus was dead he was filled with great joy; and when he heard how it was that Percival had slain him, he was amazed beyond measure; and he said to Percival: "Surely God is with thee, fair youth, to help thee to perform such a worthy feat of arms as this that thou hast done, for no knight yet hath been able to perform that service." Then he said: "Tell me what it is that thou hast most desire to have, and if it is in my power to give it to thee thou shalt have it."

Then Percival kneeled down before King Arthur, and he said: "Lord, that which I most desire of all things else is to be made knight. So if it is in thy power to do so, I pray thee to make me a knight-royal with thine own hands."

Then King Arthur smiled upon Percival very kindly, and he said: "Percival, it shall be as thou dost desire, and to-morrow I will make thee a knight."

[Sidenote: King Arthur makes Percival a knight-royal] So that night Percival watched his armor in the chapel of a hermit of the forest, and the armor that he watched was the armor that had belonged to Sir Boindegardus (for Percival besought King Arthur that he might wear that armor for his own because it was what he himself had won in battle). And when the next morning had come, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack brought Percival before King Arthur, and King Arthur made him a knight.

After that Sir Percival besought King Arthur that he would give him leave to depart from court so that he might do some worthy deed of arms that might win him worship; and King Arthur gave him that leave he asked for.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival threatens Sir Kay] Then Sir Percival went to where Sir Kay was sitting, and he said: "Messire, I have not forgot that blow you gave that fair damsel yesterday when she spake so kindly to me. As yet I am too young a knight to handle you; but by and by the time will come when I shall return and repay you that blow tenfold and twentyfold what you gave!" And at these words Sir Kay was in no wise pleased, for he wist that Sir Percival would one day become a very strong and worthy knight.

Now all this while the heart of Sir Lamorack yearned very greatly toward Sir Percival, though Sir Lamorack knew not why that should be; so when Sir Percival had obtained permission to go errant, Sir Lamorack asked King Arthur for leave to ride forth so as to be with him; and King Arthur gave Sir Lamorack that leave.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack ride together] Thus it befell that Sir Lamorack and Sir Percival rode forth together very lovingly and cheerfully. And as they rode upon their way Sir Lamorack told Sir Percival many things concerning the circumstances of knighthood, and to all that he said Sir Percival gave great heed. But Sir Lamorack knew not that he was riding with his own brother or that it was his own brother to whom he was teaching the mysteries of chivalry, and Sir Percival told him nothing thereof. But ever in his heart Sir Percival said to himself: "If God will give me enough of His grace, I will some day do full credit unto thy teaching, O my brother!"

Now, after Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack had travelled a great way, they came at last out of that forest and to an open country where was a well-tilled land and a wide, smooth river flowing down a level plain.

And in the centre of that plain was a town of considerable size, and a very large castle with several tall towers and many roofs and chimneys that stood overlooking the town.

That time they came thitherward the day was declining toward its close, so that all the sky toward the westward shone, like, as it were, to a flame of gold--exceedingly beautiful. And the highway upon which they entered was very broad and smooth, like to a floor for smoothness. And there were all sorts of folk passing along that highway; some afoot and some ahorseback. Also there was a river path beside the river where the horses dragged deep-laden barges down to the town and thence again; and these barges were all painted in bright colors, and the horses were bedight with gay harness and hung with tinkling bells.

All these things Sir Percival beheld with wonder for he had never seen their like before; wherefore he cried out with amazement, saying: "Saints of Glory! How great and wonderful is the world!"

Then Sir Lamorack looked upon him and smiled with great loving-kindness; and he said: "Ha, Percival! This is so small a part of the world that it is but a patch upon it."

Unto this Sir Percival made reply: "Dear Messire, I am so glad that I have come forth into the world that I am hardly able to know whether I am in a vision or am awake."

So, after a considerable while, they came to that town with its castle, and these stood close beside the river--and the town and the castle were hight Cardennan. And the town was of great consideration, being very well famed for its dyed woollen fabrics.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack come to Cardennan] So Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack entered the town. And when Sir Percival beheld all the people in the streets, coming and going upon their businesses; and when he beheld all the gay colors and apparels of fine fabrics that the people wore; and when he beheld the many booths filled with rich wares of divers sorts, he wist not what to think for the wonder that possessed him; wherefore he cried out aloud, as with great passion: "What marvel do I behold! I knew not that a city could be so great as this."

And again Sir Lamorack smiled very kindly upon him and said: "Sayst thou so? Now I tell thee that when one compares this place with Camelot (which is the King's city) it is as a star compared to the full moon in her glory." And at that Sir Percival knew not what to think for wonder.

So they went up the street of the town until they came to the castle of Cardennan and there requested admission. And when the name and the estate of Sir Lamorack were declared, the porter opened the gate with great joy and they entered. Then, by and by, the lord and the lady of the castle came down from a carved wooden gallery and bade them welcome by word of mouth. And after that sundry attendants immediately appeared and assisted Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack to dismount and took their horses to the stable, and sundry other attendants conducted them to certain apartments where they were eased of their armor and bathed in baths of tepid water and given soft raiment for to wear. After that the lord and the lady entertained them with a great feast, where harpers and singers made music, and where certain actors acted a mystery before them.

[Sidenote: How the two knights were welcomed by the lord and lady of the castle] So these two knights and the lord and the lady of the castle ate together and discoursed very pleasantly for a while; but, when the evening was pretty well gone, Sir Lamorack bade good-night, and he and Sir Percival were conducted to a certain very noble apartment where beds of down, spread with flame-colored cloth, had been prepared for their repose.

Thus ended that day which was the first day of the knighthood of Sir Percival of Gales.

Now though Sir Percival had travelled very contentedly with Sir Lamorack for all that while, yet he had determined in his own mind that, as soon as possible, he would leave Sir Lamorack and depart upon his own quest. For he said to himself: "Lo! I am a very green knight as yet, and haply my brother may grow weary of my company and cease to love me. So I will leave him ere he have the chance to tire of me, and I will seek knighthood for myself. After that, if God wills it that I shall win worthy knighthood, then my brother will be glad enough to acknowledge me as his father's son."

So when the next morning had come, Sir Percival arose very softly all in the dawning, and he put on his armor without disturbing Sir Lamorack. Then he stooped and looked into Sir Lamorack's face and beheld that his brother was still enfolded in a deep sleep as in a soft mantle. And as Sir Percival gazed upon Sir Lamorack thus asleep, he loved him with such ardor that he could hardly bear the strength of his love. But he said to himself: "Sleep on, my brother, whilst I go away and leave thee. But when I have earned me great glory, then will I return unto thee and will lay all that I have achieved at thy feet, so that thou shalt be very glad to acknowledge me." So saying to himself, he went away from that place very softly, and Sir Lamorack slept so deeply that he wist not that Sir Percival was gone.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival leaves Sir Lamorack] Thereafter Sir Percival went to the courtyard of the castle and he bade certain attendants to prepare his horse for him, and they did so. And he bade certain others for to arm him, and they did so. Thereupon he mounted his horse and left that castle and rode away.

Now after Sir Percival had left Sir Lamorack still sleeping in the castle as aforetold, he journeyed upon his way, taking great pleasure in all things that he beheld. So he travelled all that morning, and the day was very bright and warm, so that by and by he was an-hungered and athirst. So after a while he came to a certain road that appeared to him to be good for his purpose, so he took that way in great hopes that some adventure would befall him, or else that he would find food and drink.

Then after a while he heard a bell ringing, and after he had followed that bell for some distance, he came to where was the dwelling-place of a hermit and where was a small chapel by the wayside. And Sir Percival beheld that the hermit, who was an old man with a long white beard, rang the bell of that chapel.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival meets his fate at the forest chapel] So Sir Percival thought that here he might find food and drink; and so he rode forward to where the hermit was ringing the bell. But when Sir Percival came still more nigh he perceived that behind the chapel and to one side there was a very noble knight upon horseback; and he perceived that the knight was clad all in white armor and that his horse (which was white as milk and of very noble strength and proportions) was furnished altogether with furniture of white.

This knight, when he perceived Sir Percival, immediately rode up to meet him and saluted Sir Percival very courteously. And the knight said: "Sir, will you not joust a fall with me ere you break your fast? For this is a very fair and level field of green grass and well fitted for such a friendly trial at arms if you have the time for it."

Unto this Sir Percival said: "Messire, I will gladly try a fall with you, though I must tell you that I am a very young green knight, having been knighted only yesterday by King Arthur himself. But though I am unskilled in arms, yet it will pleasure me a great deal to accept so gentle and courteous a challenge as that which you give me."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival is overthrown by the white knight] So with that each knight turned his horse and each took such stand as appeared to him to be best. And when they were in all ways prepared, they drave their horses together with great speed, the one against the other, meeting one another, shield against spear, in the very midst of the course. In that encounter (which was the first that he ever ran) Sir Percival bare himself very well and with great knightliness of endeavor; for he broke his spear upon the white knight into small pieces. But the spear of the white knight held so that Sir Percival was lifted out of his saddle and over the crupper of his horse, and fell upon the ground with great violence and a cloud of dust.

Then the white knight returned from his course and came up to where Sir Percival was. And he inquired of him very courteously: "Sir, art thou hurt?" Thereunto Sir Percival replied: "Nay, sir! I am not hurt, only somewhat shaken by my fall.'"

Then the white knight dismounted from his horse and came to where Sir Percival was. And he lifted up the umbril of his helmet, and Sir Percival perceived that that white knight was Sir Launcelot of the Lake.

And Sir Launcelot said: "Percival, I well knew who you were from the first, but I thought I would see of what mettle you are, and I have found that you are of very good mettle indeed. But you are to know that it is impossible for a young knight such as you, who knoweth naught of the use of knightly weapons, to have to do with a knight well-seasoned in arms as I am, and to have any hope of success in such an encounter. Wherefore you need to be taught the craft of using your weapons perfectly."

To this Sir Percival said: "Messire, tell me, how may I hope to acquire craft at arms such as may serve me in such a stead as this?"

Sir Launcelot said: "I myself will teach thee, imparting to thee such skill as I have at my command. Less than half a day's journey to the southward of this is my castle of Joyous Gard. Thither I was upon my way when I met thee here. Now thou shalt go with me unto Joyous Gard, and there thou shalt abide until thou art in all ways taught the use of arms so that thou mayst uphold that knighthood which I believe God hath endowed thee withal."

So after that Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival went to the dwelling-place of the hermit, and the hermit fed them with the best of that simple fare which he had at his command.

[Sidenote: How Sir Percival dwelt at Joyous Gard] After that, they mounted horse again and rode away to Joyous Gard, and there Sir Percival abided for a year, training himself in all wise so as to prepare himself to uphold that knighthood which in him became so famous. For, during that year Sir Launcelot was his teacher in the art of arms. Likewise he instructed him in all the civilities and the customs of chivalry, so it befell that ere Sir Percival came forth from Joyous Gard again he was well acquainted with all the ways in which he should comport himself at any time, whether in field or in court.

So when Sir Percival came forth again from Joyous Gard, there was no knight, unless it was Sir Launcelot himself, who could surpass him in skill at arms; nay, not even his own brother, Sir Lamorack; nor was there anybody, even if one were Sir Gawaine or Sir Geraint, who surpassed him in civility of courtliness or nobility of demeanor.

And now I shall tell you of the great adventure that befell Sir Percival after Sir Launcelot had thus taught him at Joyous Gard.

Chapter Third

_How Sir Percival met two strange people in the forest, and how he succored a knight who was in very great sorrow and dole._

Now after Sir Percival had left Joyous Gard he rode for several days seeking adventure but meeting none.

Then one day he came to a very dark and wonderful forest which appeared to be so silent and lonely and yet so full of beauty that Sir Percival bethought him that this must surely be some forest of magic. So he entered into that forest with intent to discover if he might find any worthy adventure therein.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival enters the Forest of Arroy] (And that forest was a forest of magic; for you are to know that it was the Forest of Arroy, sometimes called the Forest of Adventure, which was several times spoken of in the book of King Arthur. For no one ever entered into that forest but some singular adventure befell him.)

So Sir Percival rode through this wonderful woodland for a long time very greatly wondering, for everywhere about him was perfect silence, with not so much as a single note of a bird of the woodlands to lighten that stillness. Now, as Sir Percival rode through that silence, he presently became aware of the sound of voices talking together, and shortly thereafter he perceived a knight with a lady riding amid the thin trees that grew there. And the knight rode upon a great white horse, and the lady rode upon a red roan palfrey.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival meets two strange people] These, when they beheld Sir Percival, waited for him, and as Sir Percival drew nigh to them he perceived that they were of a very singular appearance. For both of them were clad altogether in green, and both of them wore about their necks very wonderful collars of wrought gold inset with opal stones and emeralds. And the face of each was like clear wax for whiteness; and the eyes of each were very bright, like jewels set in ivory. And these two neither laughed nor frowned, but only smiled continually. And that knight whom Sir Percival beheld was Sir Pellias, and the lady was the Lady Nymue of the Lake.

Now when Sir Percival beheld these two, he wist that they were fay, wherefore he dismounted very quickly, and kneeled down upon the ground and set his palms together. Then the Lady of the Lake smiled very kindly upon Sir Percival, and she said: "Sir Percival, arise, and tell me what you do in these parts?"

Then Sir Percival arose and he stood before that knight and lady, and he said: "Lady, I wist not how you know who I am, but I believe you are fay and know many things. Touching my purpose in coming here, it is that I am in search of adventure. So if you know of any that I may undertake for your sake, I pray you to tell me of it."

The lady said: "If so be thy desire is of that sort, I may, perchance be able to bring thee unto an adventure that is worthy for any knight to undertake. Go a little distance from this upon the way thou art following and by and by thou wilt behold a bird whose feathers shall shine like to gold for brightness. Follow that bird and it will bring thee to a place where thou shalt find a knight in sore need of thy aid."

And Percival said: "I will do as thou dost advise."

[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake giveth Sir Percival a charm] Then the lady said: "Wait a little, I have something for thee." Therewith she took from her neck a small golden amulet pendant from a silken cord very fine and thin. And she said: "Wear this for it will protect thee from all evil enchantments." Therewith saying, she hung the amulet about the neck of Sir Percival, and Sir Percival gave her thanks beyond measure for it.

Then the knight and the lady saluted him and he saluted them, and they each went their separate ways.

[Sidenote: How Percival followed the golden bird] So Sir Percival travelled that path for some distance as the lady had advised him to do, and by and by he beheld the bird of which she had spoken. And he saw that the plumage of the bird glistered as though it was of gold so that he marvelled at it. And as he drew nigh the bird flew a little distance down the path and then lit upon the ground and he followed it. And when he had come nigh to it again it flew a distance farther and still he followed it. So it flew and he followed for a very great way until by and by the forest grew thin and Sir Percival beheld that there was an open country lying beyond the skirts thereof. And when the bird had brought him thus far it suddenly flew back into the forest again whence it had come, chirping very keenly and shrilly as it flew.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival beholds a wonderful castle] So Percival came out of the forest into the open country, the like of which he had never before seen, for it was a very desolate barren waste of land. And in the midst of this desolate plain there stood a castle of a very wonderful appearance; for in some parts it was the color of ultramarine and in other parts it was of crimson; and the ultramarine and the crimson were embellished with very extraordinary devices painted in gold. So because of all those extraordinary colors, that castle shone like a bright rainbow against the sky, wherefore Sir Percival sat his horse for some while and marvelled very greatly thereat.

Then, by and by Sir Percival perceived that the road that led to the castle crossed a bridge of stone, and when he looked at the bridge he saw that midway upon it was a pillar of stone and that a knight clad all in full armor stood chained with iron chains to that stone pillar, and at that sight Sir Percival was very greatly astonished. So he rode very rapidly along that way and so to the bridge and upon the bridge to where the knight was. And when Sir Percival came thus upon the bridge he perceived that the knight who was bound with chains was very noble and haughty of appearance, but that he seemed to be in great pain and suffering because of his being thus bound to that pillar. For the captive knight made continual moan so that it moved the heart of Sir Percival to hear him.

So Sir Percival said: "Sir Knight, this is a sorrowful condition thou art in." And the knight said: "Yea, and I am sorrowful; for I have stood here now for three days and I am in great torment of mind and body."

Sir Percival said, "Maybe I can aid thee," and thereupon he got down from off his horse's back and approached the knight. And he drew his sword so that it flashed in the sun very brightly.

Upon this the knight said: "Messire, what would you be at?" And Sir Percival said: "I would cut the chains that bind thee."

To this the knight said: "How could you do that? For who could cut through chains of iron such as these?"

But Sir Percival said: "I will try what I may do."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival sets free the captive knight] Thereupon he lifted up his sword and smote so terribly powerful a blow that the like of it had hardly ever been seen before. For that blow cut through the iron chains and smote the hauberk of the knight so smart a buffet that he fell down to the ground altogether deprived of breath.

But when Sir Percival saw the knight fall down in that wise, he cried out: "Woe is me! Have I slain this good, gentle knight when I would but do him service?" Thereupon he lifted the knight up upon his knee and eased the armor about his throat. But the knight was not dead, and by and by the breath came back to him again, and he said: "By my faith, that was the most wonderful stroke that ever I beheld any man strike in all of my life."

Thereafter, when the knight had sufficiently recovered, Sir Percival helped him to stand upon his feet; and when he stood thus his strength presently came back to him again in great measure.

And the knight was athirst and craved very vehemently to drink. So Sir Percival helped him to descend a narrow path that led to a stream of water that flowed beneath the bridge; and there the knight stooped and slaked his thirst. And when he had drunk his fill, his strength came altogether back to him again, and he said: "Messire, I have to give thee all thanks that it is possible for me to do, for hadst thou not come unto mine aid, I would else have perished very miserably and at no very distant time from this."

Then Sir Percival said: "I beseech you, Messire, to tell me how you came into that sad plight in which I found you."

[Sidenote: The knight telleth his story] To this the knight said: "I will tell you; it was thus: Two days ago I came thitherward and past yonder castle, and with me were two excellent esquires--for I am a knight of royal blood. Now as we went past that castle there came forth a lady clad all in red and so exceedingly beautiful that she entirely enchanted my heart. And with this lady there came a number of esquires and pages, all of them very beautiful of face, and all clad, as she was, in red. Now when this lady had come nigh to me she spoke me very fair and tempted me with kind words so that I thought I had never fallen upon anyone so courteous as she. But when she had come real close to me, she smote me of a sudden across the shoulders with an ebony staff that she carried in her hand, and at the same time she cried out certain words that I remember not. For immediately a great darkness like to a deep swoon fell upon me and I knew nothing. And when I awakened from that swoon lo! I found myself here, chained fast to this stone pillar. And hadst thou not come hither I would else certainly have died in my torment. And as to what hath become of my esquires, I know not; but as for that lady, methinks she can be none other than a certain enchantress, hight Vivien, who hath wrought such powerful spells upon Merlin as to have removed him from the eyes of all mankind."

Unto all this Sir Percival listened in great wonder, and when the knight had ended his tale he said: "What is thy name?" And the knight said: "My name is Percydes and I am the son of King Pecheur--so called because he is the king of all the fisher-folk who dwell upon the West coast. And now I prithee tell me also thy name and condition, for I find I love thee a very great deal."

And Sir Percival said: "My name is Percival, but I may not at this present tell thee my condition and of whom I am born; for that I must keep secret until I have won me good credit as a knight. But now I have somewhat to do, and that is to deal with this lady Vivien as she shall deserve."

Upon that Sir Percydes cried out: "Go not near to that sorceress, else she will do some great harm to thee with her potent spells as she did to me."

But Sir Percival said: "I have no fear of her."

So Sir Percival arose and crossed the bridge and went toward that wonderful enchanted castle; and Sir Percydes would have gone with him, but Sir Percival said: "Stay where thou art." And so Sir Percydes stayed and Sir Percival went forward alone.

[Sidenote: The Lady Vivien cometh forth to Sir Percival] Now as he drew nigh to the castle the gate thereof was opened, and there came forth thence an extraordinarily beautiful lady surrounded by a court of esquires and pages all very beautiful of countenance. And this lady and all of her court were clad in red so that they shone like to several flames of fire. And the lady's hair was as red as gold, and she wore gold ornaments about her neck so that she glistered exceedingly and was very wonderful to behold. And her eyebrows were very black and fine and were joined in the middle like two fine lines drawn together with a pencil, and her eyes were narrow and black, shining like those of a snake.

Then when Sir Percival beheld this lady how singularly beautiful she was he was altogether enchanted so that he could not forbear to approach her. And, lo! she stood still and smiled upon him so that his heart stirred within his bosom like as though it pulled at the strings that held it. Then she said to Sir Percival, speaking in a very sweet and gentle voice: "Sir Knight, thou art welcome to this place. It would pleasure us very greatly if thou wouldst consider this castle as though it were thine own and would abide within it with me for a while." Therewith speaking she smiled again upon Sir Percival more cunningly than before and reached out her hand toward him.

Then Sir Percival came toward her with intent to take her hand, she smiling upon him all the while so that he could not do otherwise than as she willed.

Now in the other hand this lady held an ebony staff of about an ell in length, and when Sir Percival had come close enough to her, she lifted this staff of a sudden and smote him with it very violently across the shoulders, crying out at the same time, in a voice terribly piercing and shrill: "Be thou a stone!"

Then that charm that the Lady of the Lake had hung around the neck of Sir Percival stood him in good stead, for, excepting for it, he would that instant have been transformed into a stone. But the charm of the sorceress did not work upon him, being prevented by the greater charm of that golden amulet.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival draweth sword upon the Lady Vivien] But Sir Percival knew very well what the sorceress Vivien had intended to do to him, and he was filled with a great rage of indignation against her because she had meant to transform him into a stone. Therefore he cried out with a loud voice and seized the enchantress by her long golden hair, and drew her so violently forward that she fell down upon her knees. Then he drew his shining sword with intent to sever her long neck, so slender and white like alabaster.

But the lady shrieked with great vehemence of terror and besought him mercy. And at that Sir Percival's heart grew soft for pity, for he bethought him that she was a woman and he beheld how smooth and beautiful was her neck, and how her skin was like white satin for smoothness. So when he heard her voice--the voice of a woman beseeching mercy--his heart grew soft, and he could not find strength within him to strike that neck apart with his sword.

So he bade her to arise--though he still held her by the hair (all warm, it was, and as soft as silk and very fragrant) and the lady stood up, trembling before him.

Then Sir Percival said to her: "If thou wouldst have thy life I command thee to transform back to their own shape all those people whom thou hast bewitched as thou wouldst have bewitched me."

Then the lady said: "It shall be done." Whereupon she smote her hands very violently together crying out: "All ye who have lost your proper shapes, return thereunto."

[Sidenote: The Lady Vivien undoes her enchantment] Then, lo! upon the instant, a great multitude of round stones that lay scattered about became quick, like to eggs; and they moved and stirred as the life entered into them. And they melted away and, behold! there arose up a great many knights and esquires and several ladies to the number of four score and eight in all. And certain other stones became quickened in like manner, and as Percival looked, lo! there rose up the horses of those people, all caparisoned as though for travel.

Now when those people who had been thus bewitched beheld the Lady Vivien, how Sir Percival held her by the hair of her head, they made great outcry against her for vengeance, saying: "Slay her! Slay her!" And therewith several made at her as though to do as they said and to slay her. But Percival waved his sword before her and said: "Not so! Not so! For this lady is my prisoner and we shall not harm her unless ye come at her through me."

Thereat they fell silent in a little while, and when he had thus stilled them, he turned to the Lady Vivien and said: "This is my command that I lay upon thee: that thou shalt go into the court of King Arthur and shalt confess thyself to him and that thou shalt fulfil whatever penance he may lay upon thee to perform because of thy transgressions. Now wilt thou do this for to save thy life?"

And the Lady Vivien made reply: "All shall be done according to thy command."

Therewith Sir Percival released his hold upon her and she was free.

Then, finding herself to be thus free, she stepped back a pace or two and looked into Sir Percival his face, and she laughed. And she said: "Thou fool, didst thou think that I would do so mad a thing as that which thou hast made me promise? For what mercy could I expect at the hands of King Arthur seeing that it was I who destroyed the Enchanter Merlin, who was the right adviser of King Arthur! Go to King Arthur thyself and deliver to him thine own messages."

[Sidenote: The Lady Vivien escapes] So saying, in an instant, she vanished from the sight of all those who stood there. And with her vanished that castle of crimson and ultramarine and gold--and nothing was left but the bare rocks and the barren plain.

Then when those who were there recovered from their astonishment, upon beholding that great castle so suddenly disappear, they turned to Sir Percival and gave him worship and thanks without measure, saying to him: "What shall we do in return for saving us from the enchantment of this sorceress?"

And Percival said: "Ye shall do this: ye shall go to the court of King Arthur and tell him how that young knight, Percival, whom he made a knight a year ago, hath liberated you from the enchantment of this sorceress. And you shall seek out Sir Kay and shall say to him that, by and by, I shall return and repay him in full measure, twenty times over, that blow which he gave to the damosel Yelande, the Dumb Maiden because of her kindness to me."

So said Sir Percival, and they said: "It shall be done as thou dost ordain."

Then Sir Percydes said: "Wilt thou not come to my castle and rest thyself there for the night? For thou must be aweary with all thy toil." And Sir Percival said, "I will go with thee." So Sir Percydes and Sir Percival rode away together to the castle of Sir Percydes.

[Sidenote: Sir Percydes knoweth the ring that Percival wears] Now while Sir Percival and Sir Percydes sat at supper in the castle of Sir Percydes, Sir Percival chanced to lay his hand in love upon the sleeve of Sir Percydes's arm, and that moment Sir Percydes saw the ring upon Sir Percival's finger which the young damosel of the pavilion had given unto him in exchange for his ring. When Sir Percydes saw that ring he cried out in great astonishment, "Where didst thou get that ring?"

Sir Percival said, "I will tell thee"; and therewith he told Sir Percydes all that had befallen him when he first came down into the world from the wilderness where he had aforetime dwelt, and how he had entered the yellow pavilion and had discovered the damosel who was now his chosen lady. When Sir Percydes heard that story he laughed in great measure, and then he said: "But how wilt thou find that young damosel again when thou hast a mind for to go to her once more?" To the which Sir Percival made reply: "I know not how I shall find her, nevertheless, I shall assuredly do so. For though the world is much wider and greater than I had thought it to be when I first came down into it, yet I know that I shall find that lady when the fit time cometh for me to seek her."

Then Sir Percydes said: "Dear friend, when thou desireth to find that damosel to whom belongeth the ring, come thou to me and I will tell thee where thou mayst find her; yet I know not why thou dost not go and find her now."

Unto this Sir Percival made reply: "I do not seek her immediately because I am yet so young and so unknown to the world that I could not be of any credit to her should I find her; so first I will seek to obtain credit as a knight, and then I will seek her."

Sir Percydes said: "Well, Percival, I think thou hast great promise of a very wonderful knighthood. Nor do I think thou wilt have difficulty in finding plenty of adventures to undertake. For even to-day I know of an adventure, which if thou couldst perform it successfully, would bring thee such worship that there are very few knights in all the world who will have more worship than thou."

Then Sir Percival said: "I prithee, dear friend, tell me what is that adventure."

Then Sir Percydes told Sir Percival what that adventure was as followeth:

[Sidenote: Sir Percydes telleth Sir Percival of Beaurepaire] "Thou art to know," quoth he, "that somewhat more than a day's journey to the north of this there is a fair plain, very fertile and beautiful to the sight. In the midst of that plain is a small lake of water, and in that lake is an island, and upon the island is a tall castle of very noble size and proportions. That castle is called Beaurepaire, and the lady of that castle is thought to be one of the most beautiful damosels in the world. And the name of the lady is Lady Blanchefleur.

"Now there is a very strong and powerful knight hight Sir Clamadius, otherwise known as the King of the Isles; and he is one of the most famous knights in the world. Sir Clamadius hath for a long while loved the Lady Blanchefleur with such a passion of love that I do not think that the like of that passion is to be found anywhere else in the world. But the Lady Blanchefleur hath no love for Sir Clamadius, but ever turneth away from him with a heart altogether cold of liking.

"But Sir Clamadius is a wonderfully proud and haughty King, wherefore he can ill brook being scorned by any lady. Wherefore he hath now come against the castle of Beaurepaire with an array of knights of his court, and at present layeth siege to that castle aforesaid.

"Now there is not at that castle any knight of sufficient worship to serve as champion thereof, wherefore all they of Beaurepaire stay within the castle walls and Sir Clamadius holds the meadows outside of the castle so that no one enters in or goeth out thereof.

"If thou couldst liberate the Lady Blanchefleur from the duress which Sir Clamadius places upon her, I believe thou wouldst have as great credit in courts of chivalry as it is possible to have. For, since Sir Tristram is gone, Sir Clamadius is believed by many to be the best knight in the world, except Sir Launcelot of the Lake; unless it be that Sir Lamorack of Gales is a better knight than he."

Then Sir Percival said: "What thou tellest me gives me great pleasure, for it would be a very good adventure for any young knight to undertake. For if he should lose there would be no shame in losing, and if he should win there would be great glory in winning. So to-morrow I will enter upon that adventure, with intent to discover what fortune I may have therein."

So I have told you how Sir Percival performed his first adventures in the world of chivalry after he had perfected himself in the mysteries of knighthood under the teaching of Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I have told you how he achieved that adventure with great credit to himself and with great glory to the order of knighthood to which he now truly belonged as a most worthy member.

That night he abided in the castle of Sir Percydes with great comfort and rest to his body, and when the next morning had come he arose, much refreshed and strengthened in spirit. And he descended to the hall where was set a fair and generous breakfast for his further refreshment, and thereat he and Sir Percydes sat themselves down and ate with hearty appetite, discoursing with great amity of spirit as aforetold.

After he had broken his fast he bade farewell to Sir Percydes and mounted his horse and rode away through the bright sunlight toward Beaurepaire and those further adventures that awaited him thereat.

And, as it was with Sir Percival in that first adventure, so may you meet with a like success when you ride forth upon your first undertakings after you have entered into the glory of your knighthood, with your life lying before you and a whole world whereinto ye may freely enter to do your devoirs to the glory of God and your own honor.

So now it shall be told how it fared with Sir Percival in that adventure of the Castle of Beaurepaire.

Chapter Fourth

_How Sir Percival undertook the adventure of the castle of Beaurepaire and how he fared therein after several excellent adventures_.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival breaks his fast at a forest cottage] Now the way that Sir Percival travelled led him by the outskirts of the forest, so that somewhiles he would be in the woodland and somewhiles he would be in the open country. And about noontide he came to a certain cottage of a neatherd that stood all alone in a very pleasant dale. That place a little brook came bickering out from the forest and ran down into the dale and spread out into a small lake, besides which daffadowndillys bloomed in such abundance that it appeared as though all that meadow land was scattered over with an incredible number of yellow stars that had fallen down from out of the sky. And, because of the pleasantness of this place, Sir Percival here dismounted from his horse and sat him down upon a little couch of moss under the shadow of an oak tree that grew nigh to the cottage, there to rest himself for a while with great pleasure. And as he sat there there came a barelegged lass from the cottage and brought him fresh milk to drink; and there came a good, comely housewife and brought him bread and cheese made of cream; and Sir Percival ate and drank with great appetite.

Now whilst Sir Percival sat there resting and refreshing himself in that wise, there appeared of a sudden coming thitherward, a tall and noble knight riding upon a piebald war-horse of Norway strain. So when Sir Percival beheld that knight coming in that wise he quickly put on his helmet and mounted his horse and made him ready for defence in case the knight had a mind to assail him.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival bespeaketh the strange knight] Meantime that knight came riding up with great haughtiness of bearing to where Sir Percival was, and when he had come nigh enough he bespake Sir Percival, saying: "Sir Knight, I pray you to tell me your name and whither you go, and upon what quest?"

Unto this Sir Percival made reply: "Messire, I do not choose to tell you my name, for I am a young knight, very new to adventure, and I know not how I shall succeed in that quest which I have undertaken. So I will wait to try the success of that adventure before I tell my name. But though I may not tell my name I will tell you whither I go and upon what quest. I go for to find a certain castle called Beaurepaire, and I intend to endeavor to liberate the lady of that castle from the duress of a certain knight hight Sir Clamadius, who, I understand, holds her by siege within the walls thereof."

Now, when Sir Percival had ceased speaking, the strange knight said: "Sir, this is a very singular thing: for that adventure of which you speak is the very adventure upon which I myself am bound. Now, as you say, you are a very young knight unused to arms, and as I am in the same degree a knight well seasoned in deeds of arms, it is more fitting that I should undertake this quest than you. For you may know how very well I am used to the service of arms when I tell you that I have had to do in four and twenty battles of various sorts; some of them friendly and some of them otherwise; and that I have had to do in more than four times that many affairs-at-arms with single knights, nearly all of them of great prowess. So now it would seem fitting that you should withdraw you from this affair and let me first essay it. Then, if I fail in my undertaking, you shall assume that adventure."

"Messire," quoth Sir Percival, "I see that you are a knight of much greater experience than I; but, ne'ertheless, I cannot find it in my heart to forego this adventure. So what I have to propose is this: that you and I do combat here in this place, and that he who proveth himself to be the better of us twain shall carry out this undertaking that we are both set upon."

Unto this, that strange knight lent a very willing assent, saying: "Very well, Messire, it shall be as you ask."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival doeth battle with the strange knight] So with that each knight turned his horse and rode a little piece away; and each took such stand as pleased him; and each dressed his spear and shield and made him in all wise ready for the encounter. And when they had so prepared themselves, each knight shouted to his horse, and drave spur into its flank and rushed, the one against the other, with such terrible noise and violence that the sound thereof was echoed back from the woods like to a storm of thunder.

So they met in the midst of the course with such a vehement impact that it was terrible to behold. And in that encounter the spear of each knight was burst all into fragments; and the horse of each fell back upon his haunches and would have been overthrown had not each knight voided his saddle with a very wonderful skill and agility.

Then each knight drew sword and came the one against the other, as furiously as two rams at battle. So they fought for nigh the space of an hour, foining and striking, and tracing hither and tracing thither most furiously; and the noise of the blows they struck might have been heard several furlongs away.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival overcometh the strange knight] During that battle Sir Percival received several sore wounds so that by and by a great passion of rage seized upon him. So he rushed the battle with might and main, and therewith struck so many furious blows that by and by that other knight held his shield very low for weariness. This Sir Percival perceived, and therewith he smote the other so furious a blow upon the head that the knight sank down upon his knees and could not arise. Then Sir Percival ran to him and catched him by the neck and flung him down violently upon the ground, crying out, "Yield or I slay thee!"

Then that knight besought mercy in a very weak voice, saying: "Sir Knight, I beseech thee, spare my life!"

Sir Percival said: "Well, I will spare thee, but tell me, what is thy name?" To this the other said: "I am Sir Lionel, and I am a knight of King Arthur's court and of the Round Table."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival giveth aid to Sir Lionel] Now when Sir Percival heard this he cried out aloud, for he was very greatly grieved, and he said: "Al as, what have I done for to fight against thee in this wise! I am Sir Percival, whom thine own kinsman, Sir Launcelot of the Lake, hath trained in arms. But indeed, I did never think to use that art which he taught me against one so dear to his heart as thou art, Sir Lionel." So with that Sir Percival assisted Sir Lionel to arise to his feet, and Sir Lionel was so weak from that woeful battle that he could hardly stand.

Now that stream and lake of water above spoken of was near by, so Sir Percival brought Sir Lionel thither, holding him up as he walked; and there Sir Lionel refreshed himself. Then, when he was revived a little, he turned his eyes very languidly upon Sir Percival, and he said: "Percival, thou hast done to me this day what few knights have ever done before. So all the glory that ever I have won is now thy glory because of this battle. For thou hast overcome me in a fair quarrel and I have yielded myself unto thee, wherefore it is now thy right to command me to thy will."

Then Percival said: "Alas, dear Sir Knight! It is not meet that I should lay command upon such as thou art. But, if thou wilt do so, I beseech thee when thou art come to King Arthur's court that thou wilt tell the King that I, who am his young knight Percival, have borne myself not unbecomingly in my battle with thee. For this is the first battle, knight against knight, that I have undertaken in all of my life. And I beseech thee that thou wilt greet Sir Kay the Seneschal, from me, and that thou wilt say to him that by and by I shall meet him and repay him that buffet which he gave to the damsel Yelande, the Dumb Maiden, in the Queen's pavilion."

Sir Lionel said: "It shall be as thou sayst, and I will do thy bidding. But, touching Sir Kay, I do not believe that he will take very much joy at thy message to him. For he will find small pleasure in the thought of the payment of that buffet that thou hast promised to give him."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival goeth forward upon his adventure] Now, as the day by this time was waxing late, Sir Percival abided that night at that neatherd's hut nigh to which this battle had been fought and there had his wounds bathed and dressed; and when the next morning had come he arose early, and saddled his horse, and rode forward upon his way. And as he rode he was very well pleased at the thought of that battle he had fought with Sir Lionel, for he wist that he had obtained great credit to himself in that encounter, and he was aware, now that he had made trial of his strength against such a one as Sir Lionel, he must be one of the greatest knights of the world. So his heart was uplifted with great joy and delight at that thought; that he was now a well-approved knight-champion, worthy of his knighthood. Therefore he rode away for all that day, greatly rejoicing in spirit at the thought of what he had done the day before.

About the first slant of the afternoon Sir Percival came at last out of the woodlands and into a wide-open plain, very fertile and well tilled, with fields of wheat and rye abounding on all sides. And he saw that in the midst of that plain there was a considerable lake, and that in the midst of that lake there was an island, and that upon the island there stood a fair noble castle, and he wist that that castle must be the castle of Beaurepaire. So he rode down into that valley with some speed.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival perceives a red knight] Now after he had so ridden for a while, he was aware of a knight, very haughty of appearance and bearing, who rode before him upon the same way that he was going. And that knight was clad all in red armor, and he rode upon a horse so black that I believe there was not a single white hair upon him. And all the trappings and the furniture of that horse were of red, so that he presented a very noble appearance. So Sir Percival made haste to overtake that knight, and when he had come nigh he drew rein at a little distance. Thereupon that knight in red bespake Sir Percival very proudly, saying: "Sir Knight, whither ride you, and upon what mission?"

"Messire," quoth Percival, "I ride toward yonder castle, which I take to be the castle of Beaurepaire, and I come hither with intent to succor the Lady Blanchefleur of that castle from a knight, hight Sir Clamadius, who keeps her there a prisoner against her will, so that it behooves any good knight to attempt her rescue."

Upon this the red knight spake very fiercely, saying: "Messire, what business is that of yours? I would have you know that I am a knight of King Clamadius', wherefore I am able to say to you that you shall go no further upon that quest. For I am Sir Engeneron of Grandregarde, and I am Seneschal unto King Clamadius, and I will not have it that thou shalt go any farther upon this way unless you ride over me to go upon it."

"Messire," quoth Sir Percival, "I have no quarrel with you, but if you have a mind to force a quarrel upon me, I will not seek to withdraw myself from an encounter with you. So make yourself ready, and I will make myself ready, and then we shall soon see whether or not I am to pass upon this way."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival doeth battle with Sir Engeneron] So therewith each knight turned his horse away to such a place as seemed to him to be fitting; and when they were in all wise prepared they rushed together with an amazing velocity and a noise like to thunder. So they met in the midst of the course. And in that encounter the spear of Sir Engeneron broke into many pieces, but the spear of Sir Percival held, so that he flung Sir Engeneron entirely out of his saddle and over the crupper of his horse and down upon the ground so violently that Sir Engeneron lay there in a swoon.

[Sidenote: Sir Engeneron yields himself to Sir Percival] Then Sir Percival dismounted from his horse with all speed, and he rushed the helmet of Sir Engeneron off of his head with intent to slay him. But with that Sir Engeneron awoke to his danger, and therewith gat upon his knees and clasped Sir Percival about the thighs, crying out: "Sir, I beseech you upon your knighthood to spare my life."

"Well," said Sir Percival, "since you beseech that upon my knighthood I must needs do as you ask. But I will only do so upon two conditions. The first of these conditions is that you go to the court of King Arthur, and that you surrender yourself as captive to a damsel of that court who is known as the Lady Yelande the Dumb Maiden. And you are to tell that maiden that the young knight who slew Sir Boindegardus greets her and that he tells her that in a little while he will return to repay to Sir Kay that buffet he gave her. This is my first condition." And Sir Engeneron said: "I will perform that condition."

"And my second condition," said Sir Percival, "is this: that you give me your armor for me to use upon this adventure which I have undertaken, and that you take my armor and deposit it with the hermit of a little chapel you shall after a while come to if you return upon the road which brought me hither. After a while I will return and reclaim my armor and will return your armor. This is my second condition."

And Sir Engeneron said: "That condition also I shall fulfil according to your command."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Engeneron exchange armor] Then Sir Percival said: "Arise." And Sir Engeneron did so. And after that Sir Engeneron put off his armor, and Sir Percival put off his armor. And Sir Percival put on the armor of Sir Engeneron, and Sir Engeneron packed the armor of Sir Percival upon his horse and prepared to depart in obedience to those conditions of Sir Percival. So they parted company, Sir Percival riding upon his way to Beaurepaire, and Sir Engeneron betaking his way to find the chapel of that hermit of whom Sir Percival had spoken.

So it was that after two adventures, Sir Percival entered upon that undertaking which he had come to perform in behalf of the Lady Blanchefleur.

And now, if it please you to read what follows, you shall hear how it befell with Sir Percival at the castle of Beaurepaire.

After that adventure with Sir Engeneron, Sir Percival rode onward upon his way, and by and by he came to the lake whereon stood the castle and the town of Beaurepaire. And Sir Percival beheld that a long narrow bridge crossed over that part of the lake from the mainland to the island and the town. So Sir Percival rode very boldly forth upon that bridge and across it, and no one stayed him, for all of the knights of Sir Clamadius who beheld him said: "Yonder rides Sir Engeneron." Thus Sir Percival crossed the bridge and rode very boldly forward until he came to the gate of the castle, and those who beheld him said: "Sir Engeneron haply beareth a message to the castle." For no one wist that that knight was not Sir Engeneron, but all thought that it was he because of the armor which he wore.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival cometh to Beaurepaire] So Sir Percival came close to the castle, and when he was come there he called very loudly to those within, and by and by there appeared the face of a woman at an upper window and the face was very pale and woe-begone.

Then Sir Percival said to the woman at the window: "Bid them open the gate and let me in; for I come to bring you succor at this place."

To this the woman said: "I shall not bid them open the gate, for I know from your armor who you are, and that you are Sir Engeneron the Seneschal. And I know that you are one of our bitterest enemies; for you have already slain several of the knights of this castle, and now you seek by guile to enter into the castle itself."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival entereth Beaurepaire] Then Sir Percival said: "I am not Sir Engeneron, but one who hath overthrown Sir Engeneron in battle. I have put on his armor with intent that I might come hither to help defend this place against Sir Clamadius." So said Sir Percival, and therewith he put up the umbril of his helmet, saying: "Look, see; I am not Sir Engeneron." Then the woman at the window saw his face and that it was not the face of Sir Engeneron. And she saw that the face of Sir Percival was mild and gentle, wherefore she ran and told the people of the castle that a knight who was a friend stood without. Therewith they of the castle let fall the drawbridge and opened the gates, and Sir Percival entered into the castle.

Then there came several of the chief people of the castle, and they also were all pale and woe-begone from long fasting, as was the woman whom Sir Percival had first seen; for all were greatly wasted because of the toil and anxiety of that siege. These asked Sir Percival who he was and whence he came and how he came thither; and Sir Percival told them all that it was necessary for them to know. For he told them how he was a young knight trained under the care of Sir Launcelot; and he told them that he had come thither with the hope of serving the Lady Blanchefleur; and he told them what adventures had befallen him in the coming and how he had already overthrown Sir Lionel and Sir Engeneron to get there. Wherefore, from these things, they of the castle perceived that Sir Percival was a very strong, worthy knight, and they gave great joy that he should have come thither to their aid.

So he who was chief of those castle people summoned several attendants, and these came and some took the horse of Sir Percival and led it to the stables, and others relieved Sir Percival of his armor; and others took him to a bath of tepid water, where he bathed himself, and was dried on soft linen towels; and others brought soft garments of gray cloth and clad Sir Percival in them and afterward brought him down into a fair large chamber where there was a table spread as though ready for meat.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival beholds the Lady Blanchefleur] Now in a little after Sir Percival was come to that supper-hall the door thereof was opened and there entered several people. With these came a damsel of such extraordinary beauty and gracefulness of figure that Sir Percival stood amazed. For her face was fair beyond words; red upon white, like rose-leaves upon cream; and her eyes were bright and glancing like those of a falcon, and her nose was thin and straight, and her lips were very red, like to coral for redness, and her hair was dark and abundant and like to silk for softness. She was clad all in a dress of black, shot with stars of gold, and the dress was lined with ermine and was trimmed with sable at the collar and the cuffs and the hem thereof.

So Sir Percival stood and gazed at that lady with a pleasure beyond words to express, and he wist that this must be the Lady Blanchefleur, for whose sake he had come thither.

And the Lady Blanchefleur looked upon Sir Percival with great kindness, for he appeared to her like to a hero for strength and beauty; wherefore she smiled upon Sir Percival very graciously and came forward and gave him her hand. And Sir Percival took her hand and set it to his lips; and lo! her hand was as soft as silk and very warm, rosy and fragrant, and the fingers thereof glistered with bright golden rings and with gems of divers colors.

Then that beautiful Lady Blanchefleur said: "Messire, this is a very knightly thing for you to do to come hither to this place. And you come in good time, for food groweth very scarce with us so that in a little while we must face starvation. For because of the watch that Sir Clamadius keepeth upon this place, no one can either enter in or go out. Yea, thou art the very first one who hath come hither since he has sat down before Beaurepaire."

[Sidenote: The Lady Blanchefleur telleth her sorrows to Sir Percival] Then presently she ceased smiling and her face clouded over; then bright tears began to drop from the Lady Blanchefleur's eyes; and then she said: "I fear me greatly that Sir Clamadius will at last seize upon this castle, for he hath kept us here prisoner for a long while. Yet though he seize the castle, he shall never seize that which the castle contains. For I keep by me a little casket of silver, and therein is a dagger, very sharp and fine. Therefore the day that Sir Clamadius enters into this castle, I shall thrust that dagger into my heart. For, though Sir Clamadius may seize upon my castle, he shall never possess my soul."

Then Sir Percival was very sorry for the tears he saw shining upon the Lady Blanchefleur's face, wherefore he said: "Lady, I have great hopes that this affair may never reach to that woful extremity thou speakest of." The Lady Blanchefleur said: "I hope not also." And therewith she wiped away her tears and smiled again. Then she said: "See, Sir Percival, the evening has come and it is time to sit at supper, now I beseech thee for to come to table with me, for though we have but little to eat here, yet I assure thee that thou art very welcome to the best that we have."

So therewith Lady Blanchefleur led Sir Percival to the table, and they sat down to such feast as could be had at that place of starvation. For what they had was little enough, being only such fish as they could catch from the lake, and a little bread--but not much--and a very little wine.

[Sidenote: The Lady sings to Sir Percival] Then after they had eaten and drunk what they had, the Lady Blanchefleur took a golden harp into her hand and played thereon, and sang in a voice so clear and high and beautiful that Percival was altogether enchanted and bewitched thereat.

Thus it was that that evening passed with them very pleasantly and cheerfully, so that it was the middle of the night ere Sir Percival withdrew to that couch that had been prepared for his rest.

Now word was brought to Sir Clamadius that Sir Engeneron the Seneschal had been overcome by another knight, wherefore Sir Clamadius wist that that was the knight in Sir Engeneron's armor who had entered into the castle. So Sir Clamadius said: "Certes, this must be a champion of no small prowess who hath undertaken single-handed such a dangerous quest as this, and hath thus entered into the castle, for they appear to make great rejoicings at his coming. Now if he remaineth there it may very well be that they will be encouraged to resist me a great while longer, and so all that I have thus far accomplished shall have been in vain."

[Sidenote: The old counsellor giveth advice to Sir Clamadius] Now there was among the counsellors of Sir Clamadius an old knight who was very cunning and far-sighted. He said to the King: "Sire, I think we may be able to devise some plan whereby we may withdraw this knight-champion out of the castle. My plan is this: Let ten of your best knights make parade before that castle tomorrow, and let them give challenge to those within the castle to come forth to battle. Then I believe that this knight will come forth with the other knights from the castle to accept that challenge. Thereafter let it be that our knights withdraw as though in retreat, and so lead this knight and the knights of the castle into an ambushment. There let many fall upon them at once and either slay them or make them prisoners. So the castle shall be deprived of this new champion that hath come to it, and therewith may be so disheartened that it will yield to thee."

This advice seemed very good to King Clamadius, wherefore, when the next morning had come, he chose him ten knights from among the foremost of all his knights, and he bade them give that challenge in that wise. These did so, and therewith Sir Percival and nine other knights issued out from the castle against them.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival doeth great battle] But it did not fare as Sir Clamadius had expected; for the attack of Sir Percival and his knights was so fierce and sudden that those ten knights could not withdraw so easily as they intended. For, ere they were able to withdraw, Sir Percival had struck down six of these knights with his own hand and the other four were made prisoners.

Thus Sir Percival and his knights did not come into that ambush that had been prepared for them.

Then those who were in ambush perceived that their plan had failed wherefore they broke from cover with intent to do what they could. But Sir Percival and his knights beheld them coming, and so withdrew, defending themselves with great valor. So they came into the castle again in safety.

Thus it was that the plans of King Clamadius and his counsellor failed of effect, whereupon Sir Clamadius was very angry at that wise old knight. So that, when that counsellor came to him again and said: "Sir, I have another plan," King Clamadius cried out very fiercely: "Away with thy plans! They are all of no avail." Then Sir Clamadius said: "When to-morrow comes, I myself will undertake this affair. For I will go and give challenge to this knight, and so I shall hope to decide this quarrel man to man. For unless yonder knight be Sir Launcelot of the Lake or Sir Lamorack of Gales, I do not think he will be my peer in an encounter of man to man."

[Sidenote: Sir Clamadius arms himself for battle] So when the next morning had come, Sir Clamadius armed himself at all points and straightway betook himself to a fair, smooth meadow beneath the walls of the castle. And when he had come there he cried out: "Sir Red Knight, come forth and speak with me."

So after a while Sir Percival appeared at the top of the castle wall, and he said: "Messire, here I am; what is it you would have of me?"

Then Sir Clamadius said: "Messire, are you Sir Launcelot of the Lake?" And Sir Percival said: "Nay, I am not he." Sir Clamadius said: "Art thou then Sir Lamorack of Gales?" And Sir Percival said: "Nay, I am not he." Then Sir Clamadius said: "Who, then, art thou?" Sir Percival said: "I am not any great knight-champion such as those two of whom you speak, but am a young knight who have not fought more than twice or thrice in my life."

At that Sir Clamadius was very glad, for he feared that Sir Percival might be some famous knight well-seasoned in arms. Wherefore when he found that Sir Percival was only a young and untried knight, he thought it would be an easy matter to deal with him. So he said: "Messire, I challenge thee to come forth to battle with me man to man so that thou and I may settle this quarrel betwixt us, for it is a pity to shed more blood than is necessary in this quarrel. So if thou wilt come forth and overthrow me, then I will withdraw my people from this place; but if I overthrow thee, then this castle shall be yielded up to me with all that it contains."

To this Sir Percival said: "Sir Knight, I am very willing to fight with thee upon that issue. But first of all I must obtain the consent of the Lady Blanchefleur to stand her champion."

So Sir Percival went to the Lady Blanchefleur, and he said: "Lady, will you accept me as your champion to fight the issue of this quarrel man to man with Sir Clamadius?"

She said: "Percival, thou art very young to have to do with so old and well-seasoned a knight. Now I greatly fear for your life in such a battle as that."

To this Sir Percival said: "Lady, I know that I am young, but indeed I feel a very big spirit stir within me, so that if thou wilt trust me, I have belief that, with the grace of God, I shall win this battle."

Then the Lady Blanchefleur smiled upon Sir Percival and she said: "Percival, I will gladly entrust my life and safety into thy keeping, for I too have great dependence in thy knighthood."

So straightway Sir Percival armed himself, and when he was in all wise prepared he went forth to that battle with a heart very full of great courage and hope.

There he found Sir Clamadius still parading in that meadow beneath the walls, awaiting the coming of his opponent.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Clamadius do battle] Meanwhile many folk came and stood upon the walls of the castle to behold that encounter, whilst each knight took such stand as appeared good to him. Then, when they were in all wise prepared, each knight drave spurs into his horse and rushed himself against the other with most terrible and fierce violence. Therewith they met in the very midst of the course with an uproar like to thunder that echoed back from the flat walls of the castle.

In that encounter the spear of Sir Percival held, but the spear of Sir Clamadius was riven into splinters. And so, Sir Percival riding forward with furious violence, Sir Clamadius was overthrown, horse and man, with such violence that he lay there upon the ground as though he were dead.

Then all those upon the walls shouted aloud with a great noise of rejoicing, whilst those of the party of Sir Clamadius gave lamentation in the same degree.

[Sidenote: Sir Clamadius yields himself] But Sir Percival voided his saddle in haste, and ran to where Sir Clamadius lay. And Sir Percival rushed the helmet off from the head of Sir Clamadius, and he catched him by the hair of the head, and he raised his sword on high with intent to finish the work he had begun. Therewith Sir Clamadius aroused himself unto his danger, and he cried in a very piercing voice: "Messire, I beseech thee of thy knighthood to spare my life!"

"Well," said Sir Percival, "since you ask me upon my knighthood, I cannot refuse you, for so I was taught by the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, to refuse no boon asked upon my knighthood that I was able to grant. But I will only spare your life upon one condition, and that is this: That you disarm yourself in all wise, and that you go without armor to the court of King Arthur. There you shall deliver yourself as a servant unto a damsel of King Arthur's court, hight Yelande, surnamed the Dumb Maiden. Her you are to tell that the youth who slew Sir Boindegardus hath sent you unto her as a servant. And you are to say to Sir Kay, the Seneschal of King Arthur, that the young knight Percival will in a little while come to repay that buffet he gave to the damoiselle Yelande aforesaid."

So said Sir Percival, and Sir Clamadius said: "It shall be done in all wise as you command, if so be you will spare my life." Then Sir Percival said: "Arise"; and Sir Clamadius arose; and Sir Percival said: "Go hence"; and therewith Sir Clamadius departed as Sir Percival commanded.

So that day Sir Clamadius withdrew from the castle of Beaurepaire with all his array of knights, and after that he went to the court of King Arthur and did in all respects as Sir Percival had commanded him to do.

So it was that Sir Percival fulfilled that quest, and set the Lady Blanchefleur free from duress; and may God grant that you also fulfil all your quests with as great honor and nobility as therein exhibited.

Chapter Fifth

_How Sir Percival repaid Sir Kay the buffet he one time gave Yelande the Dumb Maiden, and how, thereafter, he went forth to seek his own lady of love._

Now, after these adventures aforesaid, Sir Percival remained for a long while at Beaurepaire, and during that time he was the knight-champion to the Lady Blanchefleur. And the Lady Blanchefleur loved Sir Percival every day with a greater and greater passion, but Sir Percival showed no passion of love for her in return, and thereat Lady Blanchefleur was greatly troubled.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival and the Lady Blanchefleur walk together] Now one day the Lady Blanchefleur and Sir Percival were walking together on a terrace; and it was then come to be the fall of the year, so that the leaves of the trees were showering all down about them like flakes of gold. And that day the Lady Blanchefleur loved Sir Percival so much that her heart was pierced with that love as though with a great agony. But Sir Percival wist not of that.

Then the Lady Blanchefleur said: "Messire, I would that thou wouldst stay here always as our knight-champion."

"Lady," quoth Percival, "that may not be, for in a little while now I must leave you. For, though I shall be sad to go from such a friendly place as this is, yet I am an errant knight, and as I am errant I must fulfil many adventures besides the one I have accomplished here."

"Messire," said the Lady Blanchefleur, "if you will but remain here, this castle shall be yours and all that it contains."

At this Sir Percival was greatly astonished, wherefore he said: "Lady, how may that be? Lo! this castle is yours, and no one can take it away from you, nor can you give it to me for mine own."

Then the Lady Blanchefleur turned away her face and bowed her head, and said in a voice as though it were stifling her for to speak: "Percival, it needs not to take the castle from me; take thou me for thine own, and then the castle and all shall be thine."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival denies the Lady Blanchefleur] At that Sir Percival stood for a space very still as though without breathing. Then by and by he said: "Lady, meseems that no knight could have greater honor paid to him than that which you pay to me. Yet should I accept such a gift as you offer, then I would be doing such dishonor to my knighthood that would make it altogether unworthy of that high honor you pay it. For already I have made my vow to serve a lady, and if I should forswear that vow, I would be a dishonored and unworthy knight."

Then the Lady Blanchefleur cried out in a great voice of suffering: "Say no more, for I am ashamed."

Sir Percival said: "Nay, there is no shame to thee, but great honor to me." But the Lady Blanchefleur would not hear him, but brake away from him in great haste, and left him standing where he was.

So Sir Percival could stay no longer at that place; but as soon as might be, he took horse and rode away. Nor did he see Blanchefleur again after they had thus talked together upon that terrace as aforesaid.

And after Sir Percival had gone, the Lady Blanchefleur abandoned herself to great sorrow, for she wept a long while and a very great deal; nor would she, for a long while, take any joy in living or in the world in which she lived.

[Sidenote: Of the further adventures of Sir Percival] So Sir Percival performed that adventure of setting free the duress of the castle of Beaurepaire. And after that and ere the winter came, he performed several other adventures of more or less fame. And during that time, he overthrew eleven knights in various affairs at arms and in all those adventures he met with no mishap himself. And besides such encounters at arms, he performed several very worthy works; for he slew a wild boar that was a terror to all that dwelt nigh to the forest of Umber; and he also slew a very savage wolf that infested the moors of the Dart. Wherefore, because of these several adventures, the name of Sir Percival became very famous in all courts of chivalry, and many said: "Verily, this young knight must be the peer of Sir Launcelot of the Lake himself."

Now one day toward eventide (and it was a very cold winter day) Sir Percival came to the hut of a hermit in the forest of Usk; and he abode all night at that place.

Now when the morning had come he went out and stood in front of the hut, and he saw that during the night a soft snow had fallen so that all the earth was covered with white. And he saw that it likewise had happened that a hawk had struck a raven in front of the hermit's habitation, and that some of the raven's feathers and some of its blood lay upon the snow.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival stands in meditation] Now when Sir Percival beheld the blood and the black feathers upon that white snow, he said to himself: "Behold! that snow is not whiter than the brow and the neck of my lady; and that red is not redder than her lips; and that black is not blacker than her hair." Therewith the thought of that lady took great hold upon him and he sighed so deeply that he felt his heart lifted within him because of that sigh. So he stood and gazed upon that white and red and black, and he forgot all things else in the world than his lady-love.

Now it befell at that time that there came a party riding through those parts, and that party were Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint and Sir Kay. And when they saw Sir Percival where he stood leaning against a tree and looking down upon the ground in deep meditation, Sir Kay said: "Who is yonder knight?" (For he wist not that that knight was Sir Percival.) And Sir Kay said further: "I will go and bespeak that knight and ask him who he is."

But Sir Gawaine perceived that Sir Percival was altogether sunk in deep thought, wherefore he said: "Nay, thou wilt do ill to disturb that knight; for either he hath some weighty matter upon his mind, or else he is bethinking him of his lady, and in either case it would be a pity to disturb him until he arouses himself."

[Sidenote: Sir Kay shakes the arm of Sir Percival] But Sir Kay would not heed what Sir Gawaine said, but forthwith he went to where Sir Percival stood; and Sir Percival was altogether unaware of his coming, being so deeply sunk in his thoughts. Then Sir Kay said: "Sir Knight,"--but Sir Percival did not hear him. And Sir Kay said: "Sir Knight, who art thou?" But still Sir Percival did not reply. Then Sir Kay said: "Sir Knight, thou shalt answer me!" And therewith he catched Sir Percival by the arm and shook him very roughly.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival smites Sir Kay a buffet] Then Sir Percival aroused himself, and he was filled with indignation that anyone should have laid rough hands upon his person. And Sir Percival did not recognize Sir Kay because he was still entangled in that network of thought, but he said very fiercely: "Ha, sirrah! wouldst thou lay hands upon me!" and therewith he raised his fist and smote Sir Kay so terrible a buffet beside the head that Sir Kay instantly fell down as though he were dead and lay without sense of motion upon the ground. Then Sir Percival perceived that there were two other knights standing not far off, and therewith his thoughts of other things came back to him again and he was aware of what he had done in his anger, and was very sorry and ashamed that he should have been so hasty as to have struck that blow.

Then Sir Gawaine came to Sir Percival and spake sternly to him saying. "Sir Knight, why didst thou strike my companion so unknightly a blow as that?"

[Sidenote: Sir Gawaine chides Sir Percival] To which Sir Percival said: "Messire, it grieves me sorely that I should have been so hasty, but I was bethinking me of my lady, and this knight disturbed my thoughts; wherefore I smote him in haste."

To this Sir Gawaine made reply: "Sir, I perceive that thou hadst great excuse for thy blow. Ne'theless, I am displeased that thou shouldst have struck that knight. Now I make demand of thee what is thy name and condition?"

And Sir Percival said: "My name is Percival, and I am a knight of King Arthur's making."

[Sidenote: Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint rejoice over Sir Percival] At that, when Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint heard what Sir Percival said, they cried out in great amazement; and Sir Gawaine said: "Ha, Sir Percival! this is indeed well met, for my name is Gawaine and I am a nephew unto King Arthur and am of his court; and this knight is Sir Geraint, and he also is of King Arthur's court and of his Round Table. And we have been in search of thee for this long time for to bring thee unto King Arthur at Camelot. For thy renown is now spread all over this realm, so that they talk of thee in every court of chivalry."

And Sir Percival said: "That is good news to me, for I wist not that I had so soon won so much credit. But, touching the matter of returning unto King Arthur's court with you; unto that I crave leave to give my excuses. For, since you tell me that I now have so much credit of knighthood, it behooves me to go immediately unto my lady and to offer my services unto her. For when I parted from her I promised her that I would come to her as soon as I had won me sufficient credit of knighthood. As for this knight whom I have struck, I cannot be sorry for that buffet, even if it was given with my fist and not with my sword as I should have given it. For I have promised Sir Kay by several mouths that I would sometime repay him with just such a buffet as that which he struck the damosel Yelande. So now I have fulfilled my promise and have given him that buffet."

Then Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint laughed, and Sir Gawaine said: "Well, Sir Percival, thou hast indeed fulfilled thy promise in very good measure. For I make my vow that no one could have been better served with his dessert than was Sir Kay."

Now by this time Sir Kay had recovered from that blow, so that he rose up very ruefully, looking about as though he wist not yet just where he was.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival will not return to court] Then Sir Gawaine said to Sir Percival: "As to thy coming unto the court of the King, thou dost right to fulfil thy promise unto thy lady before undertaking any other obligation. For, even though the King himself bid thee come, yet is thy obligation to thy lady superior to the command of the King. So now I bid thee go in quest of thy lady in God's name; only see to it that thou comest to the King's court as soon as thou art able."

So it was that Sir Percival fulfilled the promise of that buffet unto Sir Kay.

And now you shall hear how he found the Lady Yvette the Fair.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Sir Percival cometh to the castle of Sir Percydes] Now after Sir Percival had parted from Sir Gawaine, and Sir Geraint and Sir Kay, he went his way in that direction he wist, and by and by, toward eventide, he came again to the castle of Sir Percydes. And Sir Percydes was at home and he welcomed Sir Percival with great joy and congratulations. For the fame of Sir Percival was now abroad in all the world, so that Sir Percydes welcomed him with great acclaim.

So Sir Percival sat down with Sir Percydes and they ate and drank together, and, for the time, Sir Percival said nothing of that which was upon his heart--for he was of a very continent nature and was in no wise hasty in his speech.

But after they had satisfied themselves with food and drink, then Sir Percival spake to Sir Percydes of that which was upon his mind, saying: "Dear friend, thou didst tell me that when I was ready for to come to thee with a certain intent thou wouldst tell me who is the lady whose ring I wear and where I shall find her. Now, I believe that I am a great deal more worthy for to be her knight than I was when I first saw thee; wherefore I am now come to beseech thee to redeem thy promise to me. Now tell me, I beg of thee, who is that lady and where does she dwell?"

[Sidenote: Sir Percydes declares himself to Sir Percival] Then Sir Percydes said: "Friend, I will declare to thee that which thou dost ask of me. Firstly, that lady is mine own sister, hight Yvette, and she is the daughter of King Pecheur. Secondly, thou shalt find her at the castle of my father, which standeth upon the west coast of this land. Nor shalt thou have any difficulty in finding that castle, for thou mayst easily come to it by inquiring the way of those whom thou mayst meet in that region. But, indeed, it hath been two years since I have seen my father and my sister, and I know not how it is with them."

Then Sir Percival came to Sir Percydes and he put his arm about him and kissed him upon either cheek, and he said: "Should I obtain the kind regard of that lady, I know nothing that would more rejoice me than to know that thou art her brother. For, indeed, I entertain a great deal of love for thee."

At that Sir Percydes laughed for joy and he said: "Percival, wilt thou not tell me of what house thou art come?" Percival said: "I will tell thee what thou dost ask: my father is King Pellinore who was a very good, noble knight of the court of King Arthur and of his Round Table."

Then Sir Percydes cried out with great amazement, saying: "That is very marvellous! I would that I had known this before, for thy mother and my mother were sisters of one father and one mother. So we are cousins german."

Then Sir Percival said: "This is great joy to me!" And his heart was expanded with pleasure at finding that Sir Percydes was of his kindred and that he was no longer alone in that part of the world.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival departs for the castle of King Pecheur] So Sir Percival abided for two days with Sir Percydes and then he betook his way to the westward in pursuance of that adventure. And he was upon the road three days, and upon the morning of the fourth day he came, through diligent inquiry, within sight of the castle of King Pecheur. This castle stood upon a high crag of rock from which it arose against the sky so that it looked to be a part of the crag. And it was a very noble and stately castle, having many tall towers and many buildings within the walls thereof. And a village of white houses of the fisher-folk gathered upon the rocks beneath the castle walls like chicks beneath the shadow of their mother's wings.

And, behold! Percival saw the great sea for the first time in all his life, and was filled with wonder at the huge waves that ran toward the shore and burst upon the rocks, all white like snow. And he was amazed at the multitude of sea fowl that flew about the rocks in such prodigious numbers that they darkened the sky. Likewise he was astonished at the fisher-boats that spread their white sails against the wind, and floated upon the water like swans, for he had never seen their like before. So he sat his horse upon a high rock nigh to the sea and gazed his fill upon those things that were so wonderful to him.

Then after a while Sir Percival went forward to the castle. And as he drew nigh to the castle he became aware that a very reverend man, whose hair and beard were as white as snow, sat upon a cushion of crimson velvet upon a rock that overlooked the sea. Two pages, richly clad in black and silver, stood behind him; and the old man gazed out across the sea, and Sir Percival saw that he neither spake nor moved. But when Sir Percival came near to him the old man arose and went into the castle, and the two pages took up the two crimson velvet cushions and followed him.

But Percival rode up to the castle, and he saw that the gateway of the castle stood open, wherefore he rode into the courtyard of the castle. And when he had come into the courtyard, two attendants immediately appeared and took his horse and assisted him to dismount; but neither of these attendants said aught to him, but both were as silent as deaf-mutes.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival finds King Pecheur] Then Percival entered the hall and there he saw the old man whom he had before seen, and the old man sat in a great carved chair beside a fire of large logs of wood. And Sir Percival saw that the eyes of the old man were all red and that his cheeks were channeled with weeping; and Percival was abashed at the sadness of his aspect. Nevertheless, he came to where the old man sat and saluted him with great reverence, and he said: "Art thou King Pecheur?" And the old man answered, "Aye, for I am both a fisher and a sinner" (for that word Pecheur meaneth both fisher and sinner).

Then Sir Percival said: "Sire, I bring thee greetings from thy son, Sir Percydes, who is a very dear friend to me. And likewise I bring thee greeting from myself: for I am Percival, King Pellinore's son, and thy Queen and my mother are sisters. And likewise I come to redeem a pledge, for, behold, here is the ring of thy daughter Yvette, unto whom I am pledged for her true knight. Wherefore, having now achieved a not dishonorable renown in the world of chivalry, I am come to beseech her kindness and to redeem my ring which she hath upon her finger and to give her back her ring again."

Then King Pecheur fell to weeping in great measure and he said: "Percival thy fame hath reached even to this remote place, for every one talketh of thee with great unction. But, touching my daughter Yvette, if thou wilt come with me I will bring thee to her."

So King Pecheur arose and went forth and Sir Percival followed him. And King Pecheur brought Sir Percival to a certain tower; and he brought him up a long and winding stair; and at the top of the stairway was a door. And King Pecheur opened the door and Sir Percival entered the apartment.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival findeth the Lady Yvette] The windows of the apartment stood open, and a cold wind came in thereat from off the sea; and there stood a couch in the middle of the room, and it was spread with black velvet; and the Lady Yvette lay reclined upon the couch, and, lo! her face was like to wax for whiteness, and she neither moved nor spake, but only lay there perfectly still; for she was dead.

Seven waxen candles burned at her head, and seven others at her feet, and the flames of the candles spread and wavered as the cold wind blew upon them. And the hair of her head (as black as those raven feathers that Sir Percival had beheld lying upon the snow) moved like threads of black silk as the wind blew in through the window--but the Lady Yvette moved not nor stirred, but lay like a statue of marble all clad in white.

Then at the first Sir Percival stood very still at the door-way as though he had of a sudden been turned into stone. Then he went forward and stood beside the couch and held his hands very tightly together and gazed at the Lady Yvette where she lay. So he stood for a long while, and he wist not why it was that he felt like as though he had been turned into a stone, without such grief at his heart as he had thought to feel thereat. (For indeed, his spirit was altogether broken though he knew it not.)

[Sidenote: Of the grief of Sir Percival] Then he spake unto that still figure, and he said: "Dear lady, is it thus I find thee after all this long endeavor of mine? Yet from Paradise, haply, thou mayst perceive all that I have accomplished in thy behalf. So shalt thou be my lady always to the end of my life and I will have none other than thee. Wherefore I herewith give thee thy ring again and take mine own in its stead." Therewith, so speaking, he lifted that hand (all so cold like the snow) and took his ring from off her finger and put her ring back upon it again.

Then King Pecheur said, "Percival, hast thou no tears?"

And Percival said, "Nay, I have none." Therewith he turned and left that place, and King Pecheur went with him.

After that Sir Percival abided in that place for three days, and King Pecheur and his lady Queen and their two young sons who dwelt at that place made great pity over him, and wept a great deal. But Sir Percival said but little in reply and wept not at all.

* * * * *

And now I shall tell you of that wonderful vision that came unto Sir Percival at this place upon Christmas day.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival beholds the grail] For on the third day (which was Christmas day) it chanced that Sir Percival sat alone in the hall of the castle, and he meditated upon the great sorrow that lay upon him. And as he sat thus this very wonderful thing befell him: He suddenly beheld two youths enter that hall. And the faces of the two youths shone with exceeding brightness, and their hair shone like gold, and their raiment was very bright and glistering like to gold. One of these youths bare in his hand a spear of mighty size, and blood dropped from the point of the spear; and the other youth bare in his hand a chalice of pure gold, very wonderful to behold, and he held the chalice in a napkin of fine cambric linen.

Then, at first, Sir Percival thought that that which he beheld was a vision conjured up by the deep sorrow that filled his heart, and he was afeard. But the youth who bare the chalice spake in a voice extraordinarily high and clear. And he said: "Percival! Percival! be not afraid! This which thou here beholdest is the Sangreal, and that is the Spear of Sorrow. What then may thy sorrow be in the presence of these holy things that brought with them such great sorrow and affliction of soul that they have become entirely sanctified thereby! Thus, Percival, should thy sorrow so sanctify thy life and not make it bitter to thy taste. For so did this bitter cup become sanctified by the great sorrow that tasted of it."

Percival said: "Are these things real or are they a vision that I behold?"

He who bare the chalice said, "They are real." And he who bare the spear said, "They are real."

Then a great peace and comfort came to Sir Percival's heart and they never left him to the day of his death.

Then they who bare the Sangreal and the Spear went out of the hall, and Sir Percival kneeled there for a while after they had gone and prayed with great devotion and with much comfort and satisfaction.

And this was the first time that any of those knights that were of King Arthur's Round Table ever beheld that holy chalice, the which Sir Percival was one of three to achieve in after-years.

So when Sir Percival came forth from that hall, all those who beheld him were astonished at the great peace and calmness that appeared to emanate from him. But he told no one of that miraculous vision which he had just beheld, and, though it appeareth in the history of these things, yet it was not then made manifest.

Then Sir Percival said to King Pecheur, his uncle and to his aunt and to their sons: "Now, dear friends, the time hath come when I must leave you. For I must now presently go to the court of King Arthur in obedience to his commands and to acknowledge myself unto my brother, Sir Lamorack."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival departs for court] So that day Sir Percival set forth with intent to go to Camelot, where King Arthur was then holding court in great estate of pomp. And Sir Percival reached Camelot upon the fourth day from that time and that was during the feasts of Christmas-tide.

Now King Arthur sat at those feasts and there were six score of very noble company seated with him. And the King's heart was greatly uplifted and expanded with mirth and good cheer. Then, while all were feasting with great concord, there suddenly came into that hall an herald-messenger; the whom, when King Arthur beheld him, he asked: "What message hast thou brought?" Upon this the messenger said: "Lord, there hath come one asking permission to enter here whom you will be very well pleased to see." The King said, "Who is it?" And the herald-messenger said, "He saith his name is Percival."

Upon this King Arthur arose from where he sat and all the others uprose with him and there was a great sound of loud voices; for the fame of Sir Percival had waxed very great since he had begun his adventures. So King Arthur and the others went down the hall for to meet Sir Percival.

Then the door opened and Sir Percival came into that place, and his face shone very bright with peace and good-will; and he was exceedingly comely.

[Sidenote: Sir Percival is received with joy] King Arthur said, "Art thou Percival?" And Percival said, "I am he." Thereupon King Arthur took Sir Percival's head into his hands, and he kissed him upon the brow. And Sir Percival kissed King Arthur's hand and he kissed the ring of royalty upon the King's finger, and so he became a true knight in fealty unto King Arthur.

Then Sir Percival said: "Lord, have I thy leave to speak?" And King Arthur said, "Say on." Sir Percival said, "Where is Sir Lamorack?" And King Arthur said, "Yonder he is." Then Sir Percival perceived where Sir Lamorack stood among the others, and he went to Sir Lamorack and knelt down before him; and Sir Lamorack was very much astonished, and said: "Why dost thou kneel to me, Percival?" Then Sir Percival said, "Dost thou know this ring?"

Then Sir Lamorack knew his father's ring and he cried out in a loud voice: "That is my father's ring; how came ye by it?"

Percival said: "Our mother gave it to me, for I am thy brother."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival declares himself to Sir Lamorack] Upon this Sir Lamorack cried out with great passion; and he flung his arms about Sir Percival, and he kissed him repeatedly upon the face. And so ardent was the great love and the great passion that moved him that all those who stood about could in no wise contain themselves, but wept at that which they beheld.

Then, after a while, King Arthur said: "Percival, come with me, for I have somewhat to show thee."

[Sidenote: Sir Percival is made Knight of the Round Table] So King Arthur and Sir Lamorack and Sir Percival and several others went unto that pavilion which was the pavilion of the Round Table, and there King Arthur showed Sir Percival a seat which was immediately upon the right hand of the Seat Perilous.

And upon the back of that seat there was a name emblazoned in letters of gold; and the name was this:

PERCIVAL OF GALES

Then King Arthur said: "Behold, Sir Percival, this is thy seat, for four days ago that name appeared most miraculously, of a sudden, where thou seest it; wherefore that seat is thine."

Then Sir Percival was aware that that name had manifested itself at the time when the Sangreal had appeared unto him in the castle of King Pecheur, and he was moved with a great passion of love and longing for the Lady Yvette; so that, because of the strength of that passion, it took upon it the semblance of a terrible joy. And he said to himself: "If my lady could but have beheld these, how proud would she have been! But, doubtless, she now looketh down from Paradise and beholdeth us and all that we do." Thereupon he lifted up his eyes as though to behold her, but she was not there, but only the roof of that pavilion.

But he held his peace and said naught to anyone of those thoughts that disturbed him.

With this I conclude for the present the adventures of Sir Percival with only this to say: that thereafter, as soon as might be, he and Sir Lamorack went up into the mountains where their mother dwelt and brought her down thence into the world, and that she was received at the court of King Arthur with great honor and high regard until, after a while, she entered into a nunnery and took the veil.

Likewise it is to be said that Sir Percival lived, as he had vowed to do, a virgin knight for all of his life; for he never paid court to any lady from that time, but ever held within the sanctuary of his mind the image of that dear lady who waited for him in Paradise until he should come unto her in such season as God should see fit.

But you must not think that this is all that there is to tell of that noble, gentle and worthy young knight whose history we have been considering. For after this he performed many glorious services to the great honor of his knighthood and achieved so many notable adventures that the world spoke of him as being second in worship only to Sir Launcelot of the Lake. Yea; there were many who doubted whether Sir Launcelot himself was really a greater knight than Sir Percival; and though I may admit that Sir Launcelot had the greater prowess, yet Sir Percival was, certes, the more pure in heart and transparent of soul of those two.

So, hereafter, if God so wills, I shall tell more of Sir Percival, for I shall have much to write concerning him when I have to tell of the achievement of the Sangreal which he beheld in that vision at the Castle of King Pecheur as aforetold.

So, for this time, no more of these adventures, but fare you well.

CONCLUSION

Thus endeth the particular history of those three worthy, noble, excellent knights-champion--Sir Launcelot of the Lake, Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, and Sir Percival of Gales.

And I do hope that you may have found pleasure in considering their lives and their works as I have done. For as I wrote of their behavior and pondered upon it, meseemed they offered a very high example that anyone might follow to his betterment who lives in this world where so much that is ill needs to be amended.

But though I have told so much, yet, as I have just said, there remain many other things to tell concerning Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival, which may well afford anyone pleasure to read. These I shall recount in another volume at another time, with such particularity as those histories may demand.