PART II

The Story of Sir Galahad

_Here beginneth the Story of Sir Galahad, which same includes the history of the recovery of the Grail and its deposit in the Minster of Sarras, also its exaltation into Paradise, as follows:--_

One day Sir Launcelot sat at court with many lords and ladies of high degree who were gathered there at that time. Suddenly there entered that place a maiden clad in a long, straight robe of white, girdled about the middle of the body with a crimson girdle of leather. And the girdle was embroidered with threads of gold. This maiden stood at the door of the hall and called out in a high and very clear voice, “Sir Launcelot of the Lake--which knight is he?”

To this Sir Launcelot made reply, “I am he; what seekest thou of me?” The maiden said, “Sir Launcelot, I bid thee arise and follow me.” Quoth he, “To what purpose?” She said, “Thou shalt see.”

So Sir Launcelot arose and, clad as he was and without armor of any sort, he followed her.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot rides with her._]

Outside of the hall were two horses standing; one of them was a white palfrey, the other was a black stallion. Sir Launcelot assisted the maiden to mount upon the white palfrey and he himself mounted upon the black stallion, and so together they rode away from Camelot.

They travelled for some while until they came to the skirts of the forest. Then they rode into the forest, and all day they traversed the woodlands. Toward eventide of that same day they came to an open place amidst the surrounding trees, where was a quiet and very fruitful valley, stretched out wide to the length and breadth of a league. In that valley Sir Launcelot beheld orchards and fields of wheat and barley, and meadow-lands where cattle were browsing in numbers. For it was a very beautiful and fertile spot.

In the midst of this valley there stood a nunnery, with white walls and green trees all about it. Above the nunnery was the clear and radiant sky, very blue and all full of floating clouds. A soft wind blew up the length of the valley, and upon the breeze there came the remote sound of a crowing cock and the voice of the ploughboy as he drave the plough horses along the smoking, upturned furrows, the ploughman following laboring behind them.

Quoth the maiden, “Thither is where I am taking thee.” Said Sir Launcelot, “To what end?” “That thou shalt presently see,” said the maiden.

[Sidenote: _They come to the nunnery._]

So the maiden rode down into the valley and Sir Launcelot rode after her. Thus, anon, they came to that pleasant and secluded convent. Here the gate was opened to them by a fair and youthful esquire, and they entered the portals of the place. Then several came and assisted them to dismount, and took the horses of Sir Launcelot and the maiden.

After that the maiden led Sir Launcelot across the quadrangle of the convent and so to the chapel, and they entered the chapel. Here Sir Launcelot beheld four ladies kneeling upon four cushions before the altar; and he beheld that beside these ladies there were two knights kneeling, each upon a cushion. Of the four ladies, one was the Lady Abbess of that convent; and of the two knights, one was Sir Bors de Ganis and the other was Sir Lionel.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot finds two whom he knows._]

Anon they who kneeled there ceased their orisons and arose, and Sir Launcelot beheld the faces of Sir Bors and Sir Lionel and knew them, and they knew him. Then Sir Launcelot said to them, “Messires, what is it brings you hitherward?” To this Sir Bors replied, “Sir, we were in distant places and to each of us came a fair maiden who was the messenger who brought each of us to this place. Since our coming we have been waiting for thee, and now thou art here.” Sir Launcelot said, “For what purpose have I been brought hither?” Sir Lionel said, “Thou shalt see.” Then Sir Lionel said to the Abbess, “Bring him forth that Sir Launcelot may behold him.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot finds his son._]

Upon this the Lady Abbess turned to one of the nuns who stood beside her and she spake aside to her, and with that the nun left them and went away. For a little while she was gone, and then in a little while she returned, bringing with her a youth of eighteen years of age, very tall and fair, and clad from top to toe in clothes of white silk. Said Sir Launcelot to the Abbess, “Lady, what youth is this?” The Abbess replied to him, “Sir, this is thine own son, hight Galahad, and his mother was the Lady Elaine the Fair.”

Then Sir Launcelot cried out in a loud voice, “How is this? I knew not that I had a son. I beheld the Lady Elaine the Fair upon a certain black and terrible day, lying dead in a boat at Camelot, and I stood upon the quay and the boat floated beneath my feet. All this I beheld, and never shall I forget it; but I knew not that she left a son behind her.” Said the Abbess, “Ne’ertheless she did so, and this is that son. Here hath he lived with us since the time of his birth when Sir Bors fetched him hither, and no one knew that he dwelt with us saving only Sir Bors de Ganis. But now hath the time come that he must quit us, for the period is imminent when the search for the Holy Grail shall be begun, and this is he who shall achieve the Grail. He is now to be knighted, and for that purpose thou hast been sent for that thou mightest make him a knight. This is the reason for thy being brought hither.” Quoth Sir Launcelot, “Let me then make him a knight. For I know of no joy that would be greater than that, that I should make him a knight.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot makes Galahad a knight._]

So that night Galahad watched his armor in the chapel, and Sir Bors and Sir Lionel sat near to him to support him in his watch. And when the morning was come, they two took him thence and bathed him, and Sir Bors marked the sign of the cross upon his right shoulder and Sir Lionel marked the sign of the cross upon his left shoulder, each with the water of the bath. Thereafter that, they clad him in a robe of white, pure and spotless, and they brought him to where Sir Launcelot was, and Sir Launcelot made a knight of him, according to the accepted custom.

So was Sir Galahad made a knight by the hand of his own father, Sir Launcelot of the Lake.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot returns to the court._]

Now, after this ceremony was completed, Sir Launcelot besought Sir Galahad that he would accompany them to the Court of King Arthur, so that the King might behold him (for Sir Launcelot desired that Sir Galahad should be manifested to the entire world of chivalry). But to this Sir Galahad replied, “Sir, I cannot yet go to the Court of the King, for all is not yet accomplished to prepare me for that going. Anon, however, I shall come thither; meantime, do thou wait for me at King Arthur’s Court.” So, shortly after this, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel and Sir Bors de Ganis departed from that convent, and that same day they reached the Court of the King at Camelot.

But they said nothing to that court concerning the knighting of Galahad, for at that present it was not to be made known to the world that there was such an one as Galahad, and that he was Sir Launcelot’s son and a knight of Sir Launcelot’s making.

* * * * *

So it befell Pentecost Day, what time the Feast of the Round Table was held. Upon this day those miracles happened that are here written of, and that were afterward so much talked of and concerning which so much was written.

[Sidenote: _Concerning the miracle of the sword._]

For it happened upon that day, early in the morning when the water-carriers went down to the river to draw water, they there beheld at that place a very strange, and wonderful sight. For beside the river they beheld where there stood a great block of red marble--cubical in shape, and polished until it was smooth as glass. And into that cube of stone there was thrust a sword, half way down its blade into the marble. And the hilt of the sword and the haft, thereof, was studded all over with precious stones of divers sizes and colors, very rich and glorious to behold. And the blade of that sword (so much thereof as could be seen) shone like to lightning for brightness.

Then they who beheld the wonder that appeared before them made all haste to the castle of the King, and straightway told the news of what they had seen. Anon this reached the ears of the King and of several of those lords who were in attendance upon him. Then the King spoke to those lords, saying, “What is this I hear tell of? Let us straightway go and see.”

[Sidenote: _The King and his lords view the sword._]

So the King, and those lords of the court who were in his company, went down to the river to look upon that wonder, and amongst those lords were Sir Launcelot of the Lake and Sir Percival of Gales and Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir Lionel and Sir Ector and Sir Gawaine, and several other high lords of chivalry.

When they had come to that place where the sword was they beheld that there were words written around about the blade thereof. So King Arthur commanded Sir Launcelot that he should read those words, and Sir Launcelot read as follows:

“=This sword is for the greatest knight in the world and for him who shall win the Holy Grail.=”

Then he read:

“=Whoso draweth forth this sword from the stone, to him shall that sword belong; but upon him who shall endeavor to draw it forth and shall not be able to do so, shall fall a wound from the blade thereof.=”

Then King Arthur said to Sir Launcelot of the Lake, “Messire, thou art the greatest knight in the world, and perhaps thou shalt win the Holy Grail. Let me see thee draw forth that blade.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot will not attempt the sword._]

Quoth Sir Launcelot, “Lord, I know not that I am the greatest knight in the world, and I fear me that I shall not be able to win the Grail, for I am a sinful man. Look you; it saith here that he who shall endeavor to draw it forth from the marble and shall fail to do so, he shall be wounded by the blade thereof. So I would fain not endeavor to draw forth this sword.”

Then King Arthur turned him to Sir Gawaine, and he said, “Sir, let me see thee attempt that sword, for mayhap thou mayst be able to draw it forth out of the marble.” Sir Gawaine said, “Lord, if Sir Launcelot dare not attempt that sword, so, also, do I not dare to do so.” King Arthur said to him, “Gawaine, I command thee upon thy fealty to attempt that sword.” Quoth Sir Gawaine, “Dear my Lord, if thou dost command me upon my fealty, then I must attempt to obey thy command.” King Arthur said, “I do command thee thus.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine attempts the sword._]

So Sir Gawaine came forth and he laid hand to the hilt of the sword and drew strongly upon it, but the sword did not move a hair’s breadth in the marble stone in which it stood emplanted.

Then Sir Launcelot spoke and said, “Alas, Sir Gawaine, that thou shouldst have made that attempt and failed therein. For if thou art wounded by that bright-shining blade it may be of more injury to thee than it would be if thou shouldst lose three several castles.” Quoth Sir Gawaine, “That may well be, Sir Launcelot, but yet it was incumbent upon me to do that which the King’s command called upon me to do.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival attempts the sword._]

Then up spake Sir Percival, “Lord,” said he, “let me also attempt that sword, for if it should be turned against Sir Gawaine I would have it that it should be turned equally against me. Else I would endeavor to draw it forth from the stone for mine own.” The King said, “Try thou for the sword.” So Sir Percival laid his hand to the sword and drew upon it very strongly, but neither could he move it so much as the breadth of a single hair.

After that no other lord of all those present chose to attempt the sword, but all avoided it from a distance, no one coming nigh enough to it to touch it.

So, thereafter, they all withdrew from that place and went away, marvelling at the miracle. And all that day many came to where was that sword and the block of marble, and these stood to look upon that sight and to marvel at it.

Such is the story of the sword so far as this, and so have I told it to you as I have read of it in an ancient book of olden days, wherein these adventures and several other adventures are spoken of.

* * * * *

Thus that day of marvels began, and by and by came the time of the Feast of the Round Table.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad is brought to the Feast of the Round Table._]

Now all they of the Round Table were gathered about that board and every man sat in his place, and behind every knight stood a young knight to serve him with meat and drink. Thus, as they all sat there, there came, of a sudden, a commotion at the doorway, and after that commotion there appeared at the doorway an old man clad all in white. That old man was the Hermit of the Forest, and with him he brought a tall, fair young knight and that knight was Sir Galahad. At that time Sir Galahad was clad in flame-colored armor from top to toe, but he bare no shield for his defence upon his shoulder, nor was there any sword within the sheath that hung empty and hollow at his side. From his shoulders there hung a long mantle of flame-colored cloth, and the mantle was lined with sable and trimmed and bordered with sable.

The old man lifted up his voice and spake aloud to all who were there, saying, “Lords, here by the grace of God come I amongst you with him who is to be the greatest knight that ever the world beheld. Also, he is to be the one who shall achieve the Holy Grail. So I have brought him hither to this place.”

Him answered King Arthur, saying, “Holy Sir, if thou sayest sooth, then this is a very great and marvellous thing. But soon shall we put it to the test; yonder is the Seat Perilous wherein no one hath dared to seat himself for all this while of the Round Table. Let this youth take there his seat, for that seat is for him who is without sin of the flesh--then will we believe that which thou tellest us. Also, down beside the river there is a strange and marvellous sword in a cube of marble. Let him draw that sword and then shall we certes believe in him.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad assumes the Seat Perilous._]

The old hermit said, “Sir King, it shall be done as thou desirest. Let him take that seat.” So the old man took him by one hand and King Arthur arose and took him by the other, and so together they led Sir Galahad to the Seat Perilous. Here he took his seat, and lo! no harm of any sort befell him. Then, anon, Sir Launcelot reached forward and drew aside the silken coverlet that hung at the back of the seat upon which Sir Galahad sat, and, behold! there was a word estamped upon the back of the seat in letters of gold; and that word was:

=SIR GALAHAD=

Then a great shout went up from all the Knights of the Round Table, for thus was the Seat Perilous achieved, and so was the Round Table completed.

Then King Arthur said, “Lo! this youth is he for whom we have been waiting for all this time. For so the miracle of the Round Table is fulfilled. Let us now take him to the sword thrust into the marble stone, for certes he shall draw forth that sword, and it shall be his. For, wit ye, that this is he who shall indeed achieve the Holy Grail.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad draweth the sword._]

So all they arose from their seats and went forth, and they conducted Sir Galahad down to the river. There he beheld the stone of marble and the sword thrust into the stone, and he said to those who stood about that place, “This sword is assuredly mine, for I have no sword, and for that sword I have come hitherward.” So Sir Galahad went to where was the sword and he set hand to the sword and drew it forth from the stone very smoothly and easily, and where the sword came forth it left no mark upon the stone, for, lo! it was solid and whole and without any blemish whatsoever. Then Sir Galahad thrust the bright-shining blade into the scabbard that hung beside him, and it fitted to the scabbard, and so he was armed.

Thereafter King Arthur took him by the hand and kissed him upon either cheek, and the King said, “Hail, Sir Galahad! All hail to thee! For thou art to be the crowning glory of my entire reign. For many mysteries and miracles have befallen in that reign, but thy coming is the greatest miracle of all.” And he said, “Come, let us go up to the castle that I may present thee to the Queen.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad will not stay at Camelot._]

Then Sir Galahad said, “Not so, O Lord! I cannot go with thee now. For one cometh and is nigh to here at this present, and with her I must go. For I go first to seek for the shield of Balan, who slew his brother Balin unwittingly at the time of Uther Pendragon. Through him the Holy Grail was lost to the earth, so that I must recover first his shield and then the Holy Grail. After I have thus armed me with that shield, then must I go to search for the Holy Grail, for that same is my mission here in life. Likewise I have this news to tell thee, that two of those knights here present shall win the Grail along with me; but who those two shall be, I may not relate to you at this time.”

[Sidenote: _A maiden cometh for Galahad._]

Thus said Sir Galahad, and even as he ceased speaking there appeared in the distance a damsel clad all in white raiment, and the maiden came thitherward, riding upon a white palfrey, and by her hand she led by its bridle-rein a coal-black charger of great size and girth. So as she drew near, Sir Galahad went forward to meet her, and to him the maiden said, speaking very high and clear, “Art thou ready, Sir Galahad?” Whereunto he said, “Yea, I am ready.” And she said, “Come!” So Sir Galahad mounted upon the black charger, and he saluted King Arthur and he saluted Sir Launcelot and he saluted Sir Bors and Sir Lionel, and after that he rode away from that place, leaving them all in great wonder and amazement, both at his coming and at his going, and at all that had befallen.

So, when he had gone, King Arthur turned to his court of lords, and he said, “This is certes a very wonderful visitation, for this youth came to us like an angel from heaven, and, like an angel, he hath gone. Let us now go and hear the mass ere we return to the Hall of the Round Table.”

So all they who were there went to the mass, and as they were going Sir Gawaine said to Sir Launcelot, “Messire, this is a sad day for thee, for now there is a greater knight than thou art in the world.” Him answered Sir Launcelot, “Not so, Messire, there is no sadness in this for me, for, wit you, that this is mine own and well-beloved son. Wherefore I, being his father, may well surrender unto him that glory which I cannot carry with me into paradise, but which I would not be willing to yield to any other man.”

So said Sir Launcelot, and thus all the world became acquainted with that fact that no one but Sir Bors and Sir Lionel knew until then; to wit, that Sir Galahad was the true son of Sir Launcelot of the Lake.

[Sidenote: _The knights vow to attempt the Grail._]

Now, after the mass in the minster was over, all they of the Knights of the Round Table retired to the Hall of the Round Table, and there they took their seats in due order. Then, when all were seated, King Arthur up and said, “Messires and Lords of the Round Table, all ye have heard what Sir Galahad hath said but a little while since; to wit, that two of you who are here should achieve the Grail with him. Now it doth seem to me that several of you who are the chief of all the knights should go forth in search of that Holy Chalice, so as to be able to join him. For, by not going, those two may miss the chance of achieving that great glory.”

So said King Arthur, and, in answer, all those who were there arose, each man in his place. And each man drew his sword and each held up the handle of his sword before his eyes as a crucifix. And each man swore upon that crucifix that he would presently depart from the Court of the King, and that he would search for the Holy Grail either until he discovered it or until he should perish, or until the Grail should have been achieved.

[Sidenote: _King Arthur takes sorrow._]

Then King Arthur was filled with sorrow, for he would not that all of his knights should go in that wise, for many of them he would have kept with him at his court. And most of all he was grieved that Sir Gawaine should go, for he loved Sir Gawaine above all the knights of his court, because Sir Gawaine was the son of the well-beloved sister of the King. So he said to Sir Gawaine, “Alas, Gawaine, you have slain the joy of my life! For with this oath that ye all have uttered there departeth from this court all that was of joy therein. Until now there hath been great joy and good content at this Court of Camelot, but now that joy hath taken wing and hath flown away. For, though many of you shall return to this place, yet I foresee that many shall die; and I foresee that from this time there shall follow great bitterness and rancor, and anon that death and devastation shall overtake us all. For this is the time foretold by Merlin, of which ye all have heard tell. For, according to that prophecy, this day the Round Table hath been filled to its completion, so that hereafter it shall soon fall apart into warring and contention until it be altogether destroyed.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot comforts King Arthur._]

Then Sir Launcelot said to the King, “Comfort you, my lord, for though the Round Table may indeed perish thus, yet, ere it be dissolved, there shall come great honor and a great glory unto you and unto us all. For what greater glory can there be to you than that the knights of your Round Table should achieve the Holy Grail? And what greater honor can there be than that we should endanger our lives in that quest? For we all seek death hither and thither, and if it so befall that death cometh to us in this cause, how much better is it to die in that wise than to have death come to us in some vain quarrel or adventure.”

Quoth King Arthur, “That which thou sayest, Launcelot, is very true, yet do I greatly grieve for this happening. For though we may look forward to a glorious sorrow, yet when that sorrow cometh to us it appeareth to be so much greater than the glory that it hides that glory from our eyes. So, Launcelot, is it with me; for though I may take glory that my knights shall achieve the Holy Grail, yet is the sorrow very great to me that this Round Table should be dissolved. Alas, and alas, that it should be so!”

* * * * *

Thus the Knights of the Round Table went forth in quest of the Grail--fifty of them in all. All of those who thus went had adventures, and many of them lost their lives and did never return again. But of those of whom this history telleth there is only Sir Launcelot, Sir Gawaine, Sir Percival, Sir Bors, and Sir Galahad, and one or two others. Of them and of their adventures it remains now to be told; wherefore, followeth the history of those things hereinafter written.

So Sir Galahad rode forward upon that path as the maiden directed. And he rode a great distance into the forest until at last he reached the Forest of Arroy, otherwise called the Forest of Adventure. Here, after he had ridden for a considerable time, he came at last to a very strange place. For he found the trees grew thin and thinner about him. Then, at last, the trees ceased around him, and he found himself upon the edge of a wide and open plain. And he beheld that all about him in this plain there were great quantities of lilies, and there were also daffodils, and all those flowers moved this way and that, very slowly in the gentle air, as though they saluted him in coming. And Sir Galahad beheld that this was a very wonderful place indeed, for the light that illumined it was not the light of the sun nor of the moon, but it was a radiant and golden glory that was not due to the light of either of those luminaries.

And in the midst of that flowery plain Sir Galahad beheld that there was a wide and very placid lake that was in no wise troubled by the soft breeze that blew across it, but that was otherwise like a smooth mirror of clear water.

So as Sir Galahad beheld all these things and marvelled at them, he was aware that this was not the land of common earth, but that it was fay.

Then anon he was aware that voices were calling aloud, saying, “Welcome, welcome, Sir Galahad!” as it were with great rejoicing. So he looked, and lo! he beheld to one side a fair and shining pavilion of green silk. And there were many people gathered in the field near the pavilion, and some of them were ladies and some were lords and others were pages, and all were clad in very gay and rainbow colors, so that it appeared as though it were a flock of gaudy birds of various plumage that was gathered in that place.

So Sir Galahad turned him toward that gay and jocund company, and as he drew near to them he beheld that they were weaving garlands and wreaths of fair flowers.

(For these, you are to know, were the attendants of the Lady of the Lake, and that was the lake in which was her habitation, and he had been led to that place for a certain purpose that they and others might see and know him.)

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad abides there for four days._]

So this place pleased Sir Galahad very greatly, and he remained for three days, taking great joy in that jocund company. For somewhiles they feasted and somewhiles they sang; somewhiles they danced and somewhiles they related pleasant tales and contes of several kinds. So it was that these three days passed very pleasantly and very quickly with Sir Galahad.

[Sidenote: _There cometh the Lady of the Lake._]

Then, upon the morning of the fourth day, there appeared a lady in their midst to whom all who were there paid great deference and high respect; and this lady was of a very wonderful appearance. For she was clad in green samite from head to foot, and her hair was long and extraordinarily black, and very soft and glossy. And her face was pale, like to ivory, and her eyes were bright, like to jewels set in ivory. And upon her neck and around her arms were chains and bracelets of gold inset with emerald stones. Wherefore, from these things, and from the appearance of all about him, Sir Galahad was aware that that lady was not mortal, but that she was fay.

(For this was indeed the Lady of the Lake, although he knew it not then nor afterward.)

So Sir Galahad kneeled in the grass before the lady and he set his palms together. But she smiled upon him and she said to him, “Arise, Galahad, and kneel not to me, who am not of the spirit, but of the earth.” And she said to him, “Where is thy shield?” He said to her, “Lady, I have no shield.” She said to him, “Let us go and find thee a shield.”

So straightway there came several attendants, and some of these brought Sir Galahad his black charger, and others brought for the lady a beautiful janet as white as milk. And upon the back of the janet was a saddle of scarlet Spanish leather, embossed with gold and jewels, so that it shone and glistered with great splendor.

Then Sir Galahad mounted his horse and the lady mounted herself upon the janet, and so together they rode away from that place.

[Sidenote: _The Lady of the Lake leadeth Sir Galahad to a shield._]

Thus they rode for all that day, and against the sloping of the afternoon they had come to the edge of the forest opposite to that part of the forest where was the town of Camelot. At this place there was a monastery of White Friars, and to this the lady pointed and said to Sir Galahad, “Thither thou wilt find a shield.”

Then Sir Galahad would have thanked her for bringing him thither, but lo! she was gone from his sight and he was alone. Then the monastery bell began ringing, and Sir Galahad rode down to that holy house.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad enters the monastery._]

So he came to the monastery and smote with the butt of his lance upon the gate. Then the porters came and opened the gate to him, and when they beheld him they gave him welcome to that place. So he entered the courtyard of the monastery, and several came and gathered about him. Some of these took his horse and led it away to the stable; others conducted him into the house and afterward brought him to the chamber wherein he was to be lodged. Here they removed his armor and brought him to a bath of tepid water. After that they clad him in raiment that was soft and warm so that he had great ease and comfort.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad findeth Sir Bagdemagus and Sir Ewaine._]

Then, when he was thus clad, they conducted him to the hall of that monastery, and there he beheld that there were two other knights then present. The one of these was Sir Ewaine, and the other was Sir Bagdemagus, erstwhile called King Bagdemagus. These were both Knights of the Round Table, wherefore they greeted him and gave him great welcome.

Sir Ewaine said to him, “I pray you, sir, tell us how you came hither.” Sir Galahad said, “I will tell you.” So he told them how he had abided in the midst of the forest near to that magic lake for the space of three days. And he told them how that lady, who was fay, had conducted him to that place, and had told him that there was here a shield with which he might provide himself. To all this Sir Ewaine and King Bagdemagus listened, and then Sir Ewaine said to Sir Galahad, “Messire, no doubt that lady who accompanied thee hitherward was the Lady of the Lake, for so hath she appeared to several of King Arthur’s Court as she hath appeared to thee.”

[Sidenote: _The Abbot tells of the shield._]

Just then came the Abbot of that place, and King Bagdemagus said to him, “Sir, I pray you tell us, is there at this place a shield of such and such a sort?” The Abbot replied to him, “Aye, sir, there is here a strange and miraculous shield, and it hangeth behind the altar, and it hath hung there for God knoweth how long.” King Bagdemagus said, “I would fain see that shield.” The Abbot replied, “I will show it to you to-morrow morning, but not to-night. For I am come to conduct you to supper, and not to show you a shield.”

So, when they were seated at supper, Sir Galahad said to the two knights, “I pray you tell me how you came hitherward to this place.” “That I will do,” quoth Sir Ewaine. And he said, “Sir Bagdemagus and I set forth from Camelot in search of the Grail. After we had journeyed for a long distance, we came to that part of the forest that is called the Forest of Arroy, or otherwise the Forest of Adventure. Here we wandered for some while without being freed from it, for the Forest of Adventure is not very difficult to find, but is often very difficult to escape from. After a while, however, we found a way to escape from that forest, and so came out upon the further side of it. There we beheld, below us, this place and so we came to it. Such, sir, is the way in which we came hither.”

Thus these three knights and the high officers of that monastery ate and drank together, discoursing very pleasantly the while. And when they had ceased eating and drinking and talking together, they were weary, and each withdrew to his couch and to sleep.

[Sidenote: _The Abbot takes the three knights to the shield._]

Now, when the next morning had come and when they had broken their fast, King Bagdemagus said to the Abbot, “I pray you now to show us that shield concerning which we spoke last night.” The Abbot said, “I will do so. Come with me.” So he led them to the chapel and he led them behind the altar, and there they beheld the shield where it hung. And the shield was exceedingly white and shining, as it were of brightly polished silver. And upon the shield was marked a red cross, very strong and bold in its marking.

[Sidenote: _King Bagdemagus covets the shield._]

But when King Bagdemagus beheld the shield, he coveted it exceedingly, and he said, “That is a very beautiful shield. I pray you let me have that shield for mine own, and I will give my shield to Sir Galahad.” To him the Abbot replied, “Messire, I would gladly give you that shield, but there is said of it that whoever taketh it except the one man for whom it is destined, harm shall come to him, and great suffering.” King Bagdemagus said, “That may be so, but, haply, I am he for whom it is destined. At any rate, I am a tried and well-approved knight, wherefore if I take it I will essay to keep it, as a knight of standing may hope to keep his shield.” The Abbot said to him, “Then take it, sir, in God’s name.”

So King Bagdemagus took the shield and hung it about his neck. And he said to those other two knights, “Messires, I know not whether there is any malaventure appertaining to this shield, but, at any rate, I shall essay to keep and to hold it. Nevertheless, I pray you to await me here for this day. And if anything happeneth to me, I will return and give you report as to that happening.”

To this Sir Galahad and Sir Ewaine replied that they would remain at that place until the following morning.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bagdemagus rides errant into the forest._]

After that Sir Bagdemagus mounted horse and rode away. And he directed his horse into the forest, and rode there a considerable distance away from the monastery. So, by and by, he came to a place where two highways parted, and where there was a cross of stone, and at that place he beheld a knight in white armor, seated upon a white horse. This White Knight stood across the way upon which Sir Bagdemagus was travelling, and he appeared to be very threatening and austere. So, when Sir Bagdemagus came pretty close to that White Knight, the White Knight said to him, “Messire, I prithee tell me, where got you that shield that I behold hanging upon your neck?” Sir Bagdemagus said to him, “I got this shield at a monastery of White Friars, at some distance from this.” The White Knight said to him, “I bid you take back that shield, and return it whence you got it, for it belongeth not to you.” Quoth Sir Bagdemagus, “That will I not do until I am compelled. For now that I have this shield I propose to keep it for mine own, unless it is taken away from me in battle.” To this the White Knight replied, “Very well, then, thou shalt do battle for it, and that anon. Now prepare thyself straightway for battle with me.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bagdemagus is overthrown by the White Knight._]

Upon this each knight made himself ready, and when they were in all ways prepared, they dashed together with great violence. In that encounter the spear of Sir Bagdemagus passed very smoothly from the shield of the White Knight, but the spear of the White Knight pierced the shoulder of Sir Bagdemagus, over above the shield which protected not that part of his body. And the point of the spear of the White Knight passed through the shoulder of Sir Bagdemagus, so that he was flung with great violence to the earth.

Then anon the White Knight came to where Sir Bagdemagus lay, and he said to him, “Sir, how fares it with you?” Quoth Sir Bagdemagus, “Alas, Messire, I am very grievously hurt, for thou hast pierced through my shoulder with thy lance, and I suffer very greatly.”

Therewith the White Knight dismounted from his horse and he lifted and raised Sir Bagdemagus. And after that he had beheld the wound, he laid Sir Bagdemagus upon his horse. Then he took the bridle-rein of Sir Bagdemagus’ horse, and he led the horse and the wounded man back to the monastery whence he had that morning come.

[Sidenote: _The White Knight bringeth Sir Bagdemagus to the monastery._]

So, by and by, they two arrived there, and several came and took the horse of Sir Bagdemagus. And they lifted him from his horse and carried him into the house, and laid him upon a bed, and searched his wound. But when they came to look for the White Knight, he was gone, nor wist they whither he went. And the wound of Sir Bagdemagus was very deep, so that for a long while he hung, as it were, balanced betwixt life and death.

But Sir Bagdemagus did not die; otherwise, the next day, he summoned Sir Galahad to him. And when Sir Galahad had come to him, Sir Bagdemagus said to him, “Messire, I had no right to that shield and I suffered for taking it. I believe that it belongeth, indeed, to you; wherefore I pray you for to take it and to wear it, henceforth, for your own. But who that White Knight was who met me, or whence he came, or how he knew that I had that shield, I know not, nor perhaps ever shall know.”

To this Sir Galahad answered, “Sir, I will assume that shield and all the dangers that appertain to it, trusting that it belongs to me, and doing battle to retain it if need be.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad takes the shield._]

So Sir Galahad took the shield and hung it about his neck. Then he called for his horse, and mounting upon it he rode away from that place.

But King Bagdemagus lay there at the monastery for many days and for several weeks ere he was fit to travel again.

After that Sir Galahad travelled for all that day, and anon, toward the sloping of the afternoon, he was an hungered, and he wist not where he should come at refreshment for to eat. At that time he passed through a little woodland, and when he had traversed it he came out of it upon a small, open place upon the other side of it, where there was a fair meadow of short green grass.

Here he beheld a pavilion of particolored silks, and he beheld that before the pavilion there stood a tall and noble-appearing knight, clad in white armor. This knight, beholding Sir Galahad, said to him, “Sir, whence come you?”

To this Sir Galahad made answer, “Sir, I came from a monastery over yonderways, where I got me this shield.” Quoth the White Knight, “Art thou Sir Galahad?” and Sir Galahad replied, “Yea, I am he.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad meets the White Knight._]

Then the White Knight said to him, “I pray you, sir, to dismount from your horse and to come in and refresh yourself, for I have been awaiting you this long while.” And Sir Galahad replied, “Sir, I give you grammercy for your kindness.”

So the White Knight assisted Sir Galahad to dismount from his horse. And he brought him into the pavilion, and Sir Galahad beheld that there was there set a feast spread ready for his coming. So they seated themselves at table, and three esquires clad in green samite waited upon them, and they both ate and drank of the food and drink that was set before them, and which was very excellent.

Then the White Knight said, “Sir, to-morrow we shall ride together for a little way, meanwhile let us rest here to-night.” And Sir Galahad said, “So let it be.”

So, by and by, there came two other esquires who took Sir Galahad and brought him to where was a soft and luxurious couch of down, and there he rested and slept for the night.

And when the morrow had come, Sir Galahad arose and the White Knight arose and the esquires came and armed them. Then they each mounted his horse, and so they rode away together.

[Sidenote: _The White Knight tells Sir Galahad of the shield._]

Now when these two, to wit, Sir Galahad and the White Knight, were thus upon their way, the White Knight said to Sir Galahad, “Sir, wit you what is the story of the Grail, and what is the history of that shield that you wear at your neck?” Sir Galahad said, “Nay, but I pray you to tell me that story.” Quoth the White Knight, “I will do so. It is as follows:

“In the old days of Uther Pendragon there were two knights who were twin brothers. One of these knights was hight Balan and the other was hight Balin.

“Now at that time there was in the enchanted city of Sarras two very great marvels; one of these was the spear with which the blessed side was wounded at the time of the crucifixion, and the other was the chalice into which the blood was drained from that deep and pitiful wound. But how they came to the city of Sarras is too long a story to tell.

[Sidenote: _How Sir Balan came to Sarras._]

“Now Sir Balan was in the city of Sarras, and he was entertained at the castle of the king of that country, whose name was King Pischer. This King was at enmity with Sir Balan, whom he very greatly hated. So that night when Sir Balan lay upon his bed, King Pischer, at the head of several men, attacked Sir Balan where he lay unarmed. He, starting up from his sleep, beheld them coming, and so he fled away from those who would assail him, and so he escaped into the chapel of the castle, where those two holy relics--to wit, the spear and the chalice--were kept. Hither his enemies followed him and would have slain him, even upon the steps of the altar, only that, beholding the spear, Sir Balan seized upon it and ran with it against them. In that assault he smote King Pischer with the spear, a very great and bitter stroke. For the point of the spear penetrated the corselet of King Pischer, and inflicted a deep wound in the shoulder. And after that Sir Balan attacked the others who were with King Pischer, and drave them all before him. So Sir Balan used that holy spear for his own preservation.

“But as Sir Balan stood holding the spear and beholding his enemies retreat from that place, there came to him a voice as from heaven, saying to him, ‘Balan! Balan! what hast thou done?’

[Sidenote: _How there came an earthquake._]

“And as the voice ceased its words there came, as from beneath, a deep and hollow rumbling. And the rumbling grew louder and louder, until it became a great earthquake, so that the earth rocked beneath the feet. Then the chapel and the castle and all that place reeled, and the castle fell, one stone upon another, so that all who were within it were buried beneath the ruins. At the same time the spear and the chalice disappeared from that place, and neither have they ever been seen from that time--saving only that in visions they have been seen. For Sir Percival beheld both the spear and the chalice, and others have beheld them from time to time.

[Sidenote: _How Sir Balan escapes._]

“Sir Balan was not killed by the fall of that castle, nor was King Pischer killed, but all others in the castle perished in its fall. But rather had King Pischer been killed, for that wound in his shoulder remained unhealed, and King Pischer could not die for a long while, though he suffered very greatly from that wound every day that he lived. Such, O Galahad! is the story of the Grail.

“Now touching this shield; wit you it is the shield of Sir Balan, and the way in which it came to the monastery of the White Friars is as followeth:

[Sidenote: _How Sir Balan fought with the Knight of the Ford._]

“One day Sir Balan came to a certain part of the country where was a monastery of White Friars, and where he had news of a knight who guarded the ford of a river at that place. So Sir Balan went to that river and he beheld there the knight guarding the ford. Then Sir Balan attempted to pass the ford, but the knight would not allow him to do so, wherefore they came to battle with one another. They fought for an entire morning, and for longer than that, and each gave the other many grievous wounds, and what with loss of blood and with continuous fighting they grew ever weaker and weaker, so that neither of them could stand without great ado. But at last Sir Balan gave to his enemy a deadly blow that brought him to the earth. Then he rushed off his helmet to make an end of him, but when the face beneath was free from its helmet he beheld it, and saw that it was the face of his twin brother, Sir Balin, whom he was about to slay.

“Then he cried out in horror, ‘Alas, and woe is me! Is it thou, Balin, whom I am about to slay? Lo! I am thy brother Balan!’

[Sidenote: _How Sir Balan slew his brother Balin._]

“Then Balin, feeling that he was near to death, wept a great deal. And he forgave his brother Balan, and he bade Balan, when he was dead, to bury him at that place beneath a thorn tree that grew there and that was covered all over with spikes, as it were a chevaux de frise. Then he died, and Balan performed that task--to wit, to bury him there.

“Anon came several White Friars from a monastery that was near by, and these took Balan to the monastery and there he died, for he was very sorely wounded, and his heart was broken.

[Sidenote: _How Sir Balan marked the shield._]

“But ere he died he took his shield to him and he drew upon it a great cross in his own blood. And he told the friars of that place to keep that shield until he should come who was to achieve the Holy Grail and to return it unto Sarras again. And Sir Balan predicted of that shield that it should always remain bright as silver until that time, and that the cross of blood should ever remain as red as it was that day; and he predicted of it that no one should be able to wear that shield saving only that one for whom it was intended; and he predicted of that shield that it should never be pierced by the point of any weapon forged by the hand of man. So it was and such is that shield which thou carriest, Sir Galahad.”

All this Sir Galahad listened to and heard, and when the White Knight had ended his words, he said, “Sir, I would that I knew who thou art. I pray thee to tell me that.” But to this the White Knight only smiled and made reply, “I may not tell thee who I am, only this I may say, that I am he who hath had that shield under continual surveillance until now, and now I find that it hath fallen into hands that are even better able to care for it and to cherish it than were the hands of Sir Balan of old.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad parts from the White Knight._]

Thus these two knights travelled forward together until night to the setting of the sun. Then at last they came to a place where the roadway divided, and at that place the White Knight said to Sir Galahad, “Messire, here I must leave thee. Continue upon that way and anon thou wilt come to a chapel where thou mayst be refreshed, and where thou mayst lodge for the night.” So saying, the White Knight saluted Sir Galahad, and he saluted the White Knight again. Then the White Knight rode down one path into the woods, and Sir Galahad entered upon the other path as he had been directed to do. But Sir Galahad turned his head to look after the White Knight ere he should reach the forest, but lo! he was not there, nor was anything to be seen, saving only the trees of the woodland and the red light of the sunset that lay upon the ground, falling through the leaves of the trees like to liquid gold spread there upon the earth in small, round, and brightly shining discs.

After that Sir Galahad continued upon his way until, anon, he heard the ringing of a bell, and with that he wist where he was, and that he was not far distant from the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest. So Sir Galahad spurred forward and in a little while he beheld the chapel, and he beheld the Hermit of the Forest, ringing the bell for vespers.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad lodges with the Hermit of the Forest._]

So he came to that place that was very quiet and innocent, for he beheld that many birds sat perched upon the branches of the trees coadjacent to that place, and that several of the wild creatures of the woods, together with a wild doe and its fawn, were also there. For these things loved the Hermit of the Forest, and followed him whithersoever he went about that place.

Then the Hermit of the Forest beheld Sir Galahad and gave him welcome, and he brought him to eat and drink and prepared a lodging for him for the night.

* * * * *

Thus, then, was Sir Galahad armed with his shield, and therewith was he armed completely, for he needed no other thing to arm him for his defence.

So I have told you the history of these doings that you might know of them how they were. Now, having thus armed him entirely, so shall we turn to the further history of the adventures relating to these things.

Anon, when Sir Galahad had come nigh to him he said to the youthful knight, “Sir, I pray you tell me who you are.” “I will do so,” replied the young knight. “But you must also tell me your name and degree.” “That I will do,” said Sir Galahad. “Wit you that I am called Galahad, and that I am lately made a knight of King Arthur’s Round Table.” “And I,” said the other, “am hight Melyas, and I am the son of the King of Denmark.” Quoth Sir Galahad, “I give you grammercy for your information.” And he said, “I pray you tell me, what do you here in the forest alone?”

“Last night,” said Sir Melyas, “I came hitherward, and since then I have been travelling through the forest. I slept in the woodland then and I have not broken my fast since the prime of yesterday.” “Hah!” said Sir Galahad. “Now I will give you advice. Journey whence I came and by this road, and you will, by and by, come to the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest, which is not very far distant. He will give you to eat and to drink.”

Quoth Sir Melyas, “I give you thanks, Messire.” Thereupon he arose, and assuming his helmet he mounted his horse; and, having saluted Sir Galahad and Sir Galahad having saluted him, they parted company, each going upon his way.

[Sidenote: _Sir Melyas meets two strange knights._]

Now Sir Melyas had not gone half a mile from that place when he met two knights, and as Sir Melyas approached them, one of the knights set his horse athwart the way and he said, “Sir, I pray you tell me who you are and whither you go.” Him answered Sir Melyas very mildly, “Messire, my name is Melyas, and I travel toward the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest.”

Quoth the knight, “Well, sir, since you come hitherward, I will have it that you try a pass with me. So prepare yourself to encounter me forthwith.”

Him answered Sir Melyas, “Messire, I have naught against you, but if it is your will that I do battle with you, then I must do so.”

[Sidenote: _The strange knight overthrows Sir Melyas._]

So Sir Melyas prepared himself in all ways for that encounter, and the other knight likewise prepared himself, and when both were in all ways ready they launched themselves the one against the other with the utmost violence. So they met in the midst of the course and the spear of Sir Melyas was broken into a great many pieces in that encounter, but the spear of the other knight held, so that it pierced through the shield of Sir Melyas, wounding him in the side, and casting him with such violence to the earth that he lay there without motion, like one who is dead. Then the other knight leaped from his horse and he ran to Sir Melyas and rushed the helmet from his head and he set his misericordia to his throat, saying, “Yield thee, Sir Knight, or I shall presently slay thee.” And Sir Melyas reviving from his swoon said, “Sir, slay me not, for I am sorely hurt.”

Now turn we to Sir Galahad:

As he rode onward upon his way, a voice suddenly spoke within him, as it were in his very ears. And the voice said, “Return, Sir Galahad, for Sir Melyas is in peril of his life.” And again it said, “Return in haste, for Sir Melyas is in peril of his life.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad rides to rescue Sir Melyas._]

Thereupon Sir Galahad turned his horse about and set it to the gallop, for he thought that were he mistaken in the voice, then was there no great harm done in returning. So he rode back whence he had come. And anon he reached that place where Sir Melyas had fallen, and he beheld the knight kneeling upon Sir Melyas with the misericordia at his throat, and he heard the words that the knight uttered and that Sir Melyas uttered. Then Sir Galahad cried out in a loud voice, “Sir Knight, withhold thy hand. Turn thou to me, for I am here to defend that knight.”

Then the knight withheld his hand, and he cried out, “Who art thou, Sir Knight, who cometh hither?” Sir Galahad replied, “It matters not who I am, saving only that I am here to defend that fallen knight.” “Well,” quoth the other, “let it be that way if such is your will. Make you ready.” So the knight arose and ran to his horse and mounted thereon; and he took his spear in hand, and when he was in all ways prepared, each knight took stand for the assault.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad overthrows the strange knight._]

Then they rushed together like a thunderbolt and each knight smote the other in the midst of the shield. But the spear of the knight could not penetrate the shield of Sir Galahad; otherwise, it slid away from it as though it had been made of adamant, and in sliding away the spear was broken into several pieces. But the spear of Sir Galahad held, so that with it he pierced through the shield of the other, and pierced through his body until the spear’s point stood a hand’s breadth out behind his back. With that the knight was flung to the earth with such violence that his neck was broken and he lay dead.

When the other knight beheld him fall, he cried out, “Hah, Messire, what have you done? You have slain my brother.” Therewith he drew his sword and rushed at Sir Galahad, and Sir Galahad threw aside his spear and drew his sword in defence. Then the knight launched a blow at Sir Galahad, which he turned with his sword and his shield. Then rising in his stirrups he launched a blow at the knight that was like a stroke of lightning for speed and force.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad overcometh the other knight._]

The other knight tried to turn that blow, and he did turn it from his head, but the blow fell upon his left shoulder with great and terrible force, so that the edge of the sword cut through the epulier of the shoulder and it cut through the flesh and the bone of the arm so that the arm was severed from the trunk.

Then the knight emitted a great loud and bitter cry, and casting aside his sword he set spurs to his horse and sped away through the forest, crying aloud as he spurred, “Oh, God! Alas, and woe is me!”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad bringeth Sir Melyas to the Hermit of the Forest._]

Then Sir Galahad wiped his sword and thrust it back into its scabbard. And he turned to Sir Melyas, and he said, “Sir, how fares it with you?” Quoth Sir Melyas, “Messire, I am sorely wounded, but you have saved me; for never did I behold so fierce and terrible a blow as that which you struck just now, nor did I think it possible that anyone could strike with such dreadful force as that.” Quoth Sir Galahad, “Nor could I have struck such a blow were it not that meseemed that those two knights represented two great sins; the one of the sin of pride, the other the sin of cruelty. So that thought gave me, as it were, the strength of ten, wherefore when I struck I struck with the strength as of ten.” After that he turned to the knight lying upon the ground and found him dead. And he raised Sir Melyas and set him upon his horse. And he upheld him in that wise and returned with him to the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest. There the Hermit received Sir Melyas, and laid him upon a couch. And he searched his wound and dressed it, and Sir Melyas was put to all possible ease with him.

This was Sir Galahad’s first adventure, and so I have told it to you as it happened, for so have I read it in the ancient history of these things.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad heareth of the Castle of the Maidens._]

Now, after Sir Galahad had quitted that forest he came out the next day upon a fair and fertile plain. Anon he met an old man and a young lad. These he saluted, and he said to the old man, “Reverend Sir, I pray you tell me, is there any adventure hereabouts that a young knight such as I am might undertake to his honor?” Quoth the old man, “Aye, I know of such an adventure.” And he said, “Know you that there is not far from this a castle called the Castle of Maidens. At that castle there are ten knights dwelling, who exact tribute from every passer-by. Moreover, these knights are very cruel and unruly, for they now govern all this land as with a rod of iron, exacting taxes from the people thereof where no taxes are due, so that all in this country groan beneath the burden laid upon them. Pass you by that castle, fair sir, and you will have adventure enough and to spare from those ten knights.”

Then Sir Galahad inquired, “Whither is that castle whereof thou speakest?” And the old man pointed in a certain direction with his hand, saying, “Yonderway you will find it.” So Sir Galahad gave the old man grammercy for that which he had told him, and he rode away whitherward the other pointed.

Anon he came to the crest of a high, steep hill of no very great extent, and from that hilltop he beheld beneath him a large and noble castle. And the castle had tall, red roofs of tile, and great quantities of rooks and daws flew about those roofs like bees about a beehive. And a river ran down past the castle and beyond it, and where it ran past the castle the pollard willows were pressed close against the castle walls, because of the narrowness of the space between the castle wall and the waters of the river. Beside the walls of the castle there was a town, and the town was very populous, for Sir Galahad, from the hilltop where he sat, could behold many people coming and going along the stony streets thereof. Then Sir Galahad surmised that this must be the Castle of Maidens (though why it was so called he did not know then nor till afterward).

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad cometh to that castle._]

So Sir Galahad gathered up his reins and he rode down that hill and toward the castle, and he was not aware that anyone knew of his coming. But as he rode past the castle beneath the walls thereof, he was of a sudden called to from above. And when he looked up he beheld there a small turret, and he beheld that upon that turret there stood ten fair maidens, and these were they who called to him. Beholding these ten fair young ladies at that place, he bespoke them, saying, “Ladies, heaven keep and defend you. Now, I pray you tell me, what is the name of this castle, and what is it you do here?” They say to him, “Fair Sir, this castle is called the Castle of Maidens. We are prisoners here, and are kept in this duress by ten wicked and discourteous knights, from whom heaven keep you. For if you travel on the road upon which you are journeying, you will pass by the bridge-head of this castle, and they will maybe come down to assail you.” To them Sir Galahad said, “Ladies, I know not whether I could do battle with success as one against ten--yet if I considered these knights as being the ten deadly sins, methinks I would have strength given to me to do combat with them. Now I pray you tell me, how may I assure myself to meet these knights?”

Quoth one of the ladies upon the turret, “Sir, assuredly thou hast a great heart within thee. Now if thou wilt pursue the way thou art going, thou wilt by and by come by the bridge-head. Thereby thou wilt find an iron horn hanging from a stone pillar. If those knights do not appear, set thou that horn to thy lips and blow upon it, and anon thou wilt behold those ten warriors of whom we have been speaking.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad bloweth the castle horn._]

So Sir Galahad saluted them and rode away, and anon he came to where the bridge crossed the stream, and there he beheld the post of stone and from it, hanging by a chain, he beheld the horn of iron. This horn he set to his lips and blew very loud and shrilly upon it, so that the walls of the castle echoed back the bleat of that horn.

Soon after that the gates of the castle were opened and the portcullis let fall, and there came thundering forth from that place ten knights, armed cap-a-pie in shining armor.

The foremost of those knights rode up to Sir Galahad and said to him, “Sir, art thou shriven?” “Why ask you that?” said Sir Galahad. “Because,” said that knight, “thou art presently to die, therefore thou shouldst be shriven.” “So far as that is concerned,” said Sir Galahad, “I am not unready to die.” “Then,” said the other, “thou shalt presently awaken in paradise, since thou art ready for it.”

So each knight assumed such stand as appeared to him to be fitting, and each set his spear in rest, and then each dashed at the other with might and main. So they met in the middle of the course with such violence and uproar as was wonderful to see and to hear.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad overcometh the first knight._]

In that encounter the spear of the knight of the castle slipped from the shield of Sir Galahad, and was broken into many pieces, but the spear of Sir Galahad held, wherefore he overthrew that knight with such terrible violence that his neck was broken in his fall, and he lay dead upon the earth.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad doeth battle with nine._]

Then when the other knights beheld the fall of that knight, they cried out, “Hah! A rescue! a rescue!” Therewith they all nine made at Sir Galahad to overwhelm him with numbers. All nine of them struck him upon the shield at one time, but their spears glanced from the shield of Sir Galahad and could not penetrate it, nor was he overthrown by their assault, nor did he lose even a foot from his stirrup.

Then Sir Galahad cast aside his spear and drew his bright, shining sword, and he rode at those nine knights and he rode in amongst them, striking with his blade to the right hand and to the left. Nor could their blows harm him, for in that short time he struck down to the ground three of those knights, so that there were but six of them left.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad overcometh the knights._]

Then the hearts of those six knights began to fail them, and they bore back across the bridge with intent to enter the castle once more. But meantime the people of the castle, seeing how affairs went with them, had raised the bridge and had closed the castle gates against them. Nor would they lower the bridge nor open the gates again, wherefore those knights wist not what to do in their hour of need. Then Sir Galahad was upon them and smote down two more of them and with that the four who were left fled with great speed and he pursued them back across the bridge. And Sir Galahad still pursued them, and he struck once and again, now to the right and now to the left, so that ere they could escape from him and in those two blows Sir Galahad had struck down two more of them. Then the two who were left made their escape and they fled from that place with might and main. And Sir Galahad pursued them also with might and main, but their horses were fresher than his, and so they escaped away from him.

So Sir Galahad rode back again slowly to the castle, and at his coming the gates were opened with great sound of rejoicing. For the streets were full of people of all sorts and conditions, and these lifted up their voices with loud and prolonged applause. And of those eight whom he had overthrown, all of them were dead. For those who had not died by their fall, the people had put to death upon their own account.

Then Sir Galahad said to the chief magistrate of that town, “Where are those ten maidens who bespoke me ere I came to this place?” And the chief magistrate answered him, “Sir, we will bring them to you.” So anon came those ladies, and when they had come to Sir Galahad they kneeled before him and kissed his hand and gave him great praise and loud acclaim. Sir Galahad said to them, “Why do you kneel to me, and why do you kiss my hand?” They say to him, “Because of your strength and your prowess.” He said, “Nay, that strength and that prowess I gave not to myself; therefore, if I have shown strength and prowess, give praise therefor unto the God who gave them to me, and not to me who am their continent.” And he said, “Where is the chief lord of this town?”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad liberates the captive lord._]

The ten maidens said, “Sir, he is our father, and he is a prisoner now in the dungeon of this place. For those ten knights overthrew him and made him prisoner, wherefore he now lieth in duress.” Sir Galahad said, “Bring him forth that I may behold him.” So several ran to where he was, and anon they returned with him, and the chains that bound him were still upon his hands and feet. Sir Galahad said, “Let these chains be removed.” And when they were taken off of that knight, he said to him, “Take back that which is thine own and oppress not thy people. For so have they been oppressed of late by their ten masters, who were the ten knights whom I have overthrown. But now thine enemies are either slain or put to flight, so that thou art free. Nor shall you ever be put to such pain again.”

Then, again, was there great applause.

Then the eldest of those ten maidens said to him, “Sir, will you not rest here awhile with us?” Sir Galahad said, “I may not rest with you, for my time is short and there is much to do in that time; wherefore I must be again upon my way.”

So he bade them farewell, and after that he departed from that place, taking with him the thanks and the blessings of all the people dwelling therein. Yet for many long years afterward, the memory of Sir Galahad was held at that place, and parents told to their children, and those children to their children for several generations, how that Sir Galahad of the Grail had come thither and had done those great and redoubtable actions at arms that are herein told of and recounted. For it was not until afterward that he became known as the greatest knight that the world had ever beheld until that time.

Such is the story of Sir Galahad and of the Castle of the Maidens; so he, one knight, overcame the ten knights of that castle, and thus he departed thereafter.

Now turn we from Sir Galahad and take we up the adventures of Sir Launcelot at this time. Wherefore I pray you to read that which followeth.

So Sir Launcelot entered the house, and he whom he beheld there was Sir Percival, and at that he was very glad. And Sir Percival was also very glad to behold Sir Launcelot. So the next morning early, and after they had broken their fast, they took horse and rode away very lovingly together.

So they journeyed for the great part of that morning, and about high noontide they had come to a very pleasant part of the country where were hills covered with green fields rising up against the sky; where were many pleasant streams and watercourses; and where were flocks and herds browsing in the long, damp grass of the pasture lands.

Here in a dale where there was a small wooden bridge crossing a glassy and smooth-flowing river, they beheld a knight coming from the other direction, and Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival were upon one side of the bridge, and that knight was upon the other side. And that other knight was Sir Galahad, though neither of those two knew who he was.

Then Sir Launcelot held up his hand, and he cried out, “Messire, I pray you for to wait until we have crossed the bridge, for three of us cannot cross it at the same time.”

“Nay, sir,” quoth Sir Galahad, “my business does not allow me to wait, so I pray you to let me pass.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot challenges Sir Galahad at the bridge._]

“Not so,” quoth Sir Launcelot, “I cannot let you pass until you have proven your right to pass. You must run a tilt with me, and if I overthrow you, then will you wait to let us pass; but if you overthrow me, then will we wait to let you pass.” So said Sir Launcelot, for it did not seem to him to be possible that the strange knight could overthrow him.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot is overthrown._]

So each knight set his spear in rest, and anon each charged with great violence at each other. Thus they swept together like a hurricane, and so met in the centre of the bridge. In that encounter the spear of Sir Launcelot struck the shield of Sir Galahad, directly in the centre thereof; but the blow that he gave glanced aside as if the shield had been a polished mirror. But the spear of Sir Galahad struck Sir Launcelot in the middle of the shield and it held, and so violent was the blow of Sir Galahad that both Sir Launcelot and his steed were overthrown upon the planking of the bridge.

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival is wounded._]

Sir Percival looked with great amazement at the overthrow of Sir Launcelot. Then, crying out in a great voice, “Sir, what have you done? Defend yourself from me!” he drew his sword and rushed forward upon the bridge. And Sir Galahad, when he beheld Sir Percival approach in that manner, cast aside his spear and drew his sword likewise. So, when they met in the middle of the bridge, Sir Percival smote Sir Galahad a great buffet with his sword, which stroke Sir Galahad turned with his shield. Then Sir Galahad rose up in his stirrups and he launched a blow like a thunderbolt against Sir Percival. Sir Percival endeavored to turn that blow with his shield, but he could not turn it, for it smote through his shield and it smote through his helmet and it smote through the iron cap beneath the helmet, and, had the blade not turned in the hand of Sir Galahad, it would have slain Sir Percival. As it was, Sir Percival’s head swam beneath that blow and he swooned away, swaying from side to side in his saddle until he fell from his saddle and lay upon the bridge without life or motion, like one who was dead.

But Sir Galahad did not stop to inquire who were those two knights whom he had overthrown, nor did he pause to inquire how badly he had hurt them; but regaining his spear and setting spurs to his horse he rode away from that place, leaving them lying upon the bridge.

Anon Sir Launcelot aroused himself, and he beheld Sir Percival where he lay. Then Sir Launcelot arose and went to Sir Percival, and removed his helmet. And he cast water into the face of Sir Percival so that, in a little while, Sir Percival was aroused from his swoon. Then Sir Launcelot said, “I would God I knew who that knight was, for never have I felt such a blow as I just now received, nor have I ever been so shamed as I was shamed this day.” Said Sir Percival, “Wit ye not who that knight was?” and he said, “Meseems it was none other than your son, Sir Galahad.” Quoth Sir Launcelot, “At that I would take comfort were he my son, but not at anything else.”

Then each knight mounted his horse, and so together they presently rode away from that place. But Sir Launcelot’s head hung down upon his breast, for the memory of that blow which had overthrown him, and for the shame thereof; for never had he been overthrown from his horse before this day in all of his life. And, somewhiles, he thought that he who had overthrown him was, maybe, Sir Galahad, and at that he took comfort, because Sir Galahad was his son. But otherwhiles he thought that it was not Sir Galahad, and then he was filled with shame because of his overthrow.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival part company._]

So riding in that wise they, by and by, came to where the road divided into two ways, and here Sir Launcelot said, “Sir, let us part company, for you shall take one road and I will take the other.” Quoth Sir Percival, “Are you then weary of riding with me?” “Nay,” said Sir Launcelot, “but I have been overthrown and I am ashamed.” Said Sir Percival, “What shame do you take in that, seeing it was your own son that overthrew you?” But to this Sir Launcelot made no reply.

Then, seeing that Sir Launcelot was determined to quit him, Sir Percival took the left-hand road, and Sir Launcelot took the right-hand road, and so they parted.

Now follow we Sir Launcelot after they had thus separated.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot findeth a deserted chapel._]

Sir Launcelot rode for the rest of that day without meeting further adventure, until about evening time, when he came to a bare and naked knoll covered with furze bushes. Here, in the midst of that wild, he beheld an ancient ruined chapel, and he said to himself, “Here will I rest me for the night.” So he rode around that chapel, seeking for the door thereof, but he could find no door upon any side of the chapel, but only windows, very high raised from the ground. And he could not enter that chapel by any of its windows, because they were built in the wall so far beyond his reach that he could not attain to them. Then Sir Launcelot said, “This is a very strange chapel that it should have no doors, but only windows so high that I cannot enter by them. Now I will rest here and see what is the meaning of this place.”

So saying, he dismounted from his horse, and lay down beneath a thornbush that was not far distant from the chapel.

Now, as Sir Launcelot lay there, a drowsiness began to descend upon him, and though he could not sleep yet it was as though he did sleep, for he could move nor hand nor foot. Yet was he conscious of all that passed about him as though he had been wide awake. For he was conscious of the dark and silent vaults of sky, sprinkled all over with an incredible number of stars, and he was conscious of his horse cropping the herbage beside him in the darkness, and he was conscious of the wind that blew across his face, and that moved the corner of his cloak in the silence of the night time. Of all these things was he conscious, and yet he could not move of his own will so much as a single hair.

[Sidenote: _There cometh a wounded knight._]

Anon, whilst he lay in that wise he was presently aware that some people were approaching the chapel in the darkness, for he heard the sound of voices and of the feet of horses moving upon the road. So, in a little while, there came to that place a knight and an esquire. And the knight was very sorely wounded, for his armor was broken and shattered by battle, and the esquire sustained him in the saddle so that, except for the upholding of the esquire’s arm and hand, he would have fallen prostrate down upon the ground.

Then Sir Launcelot, as he lay in that waking sleep, heard the knight say to the esquire, “Floradaine, is the chapel near at hand, for mine eyes are failing and I cannot see.” And the esquire wept and he said, “Yea, Lord, it is here. Sustain yourself but for a little and you will be there.”

To this the knight made answer, “Floradaine, I cannot sustain myself for long.” And the esquire said, “It is here.” The knight said, “Give thanks to God for that, for had it been a little farther I would have fallen from my horse. Now, Floradaine, lift me to earth.”

Therewith the esquire drew rein and he dismounted from his horse and he lifted the knight down from his charger, and the knight groaned very dolorously as the esquire lifted him down. Then, breathing very heavily and with great labor, the knight said, “Floradaine, is there a light?” And the esquire said, “Not yet, Messire.” Again, after a little, the knight said, “Is there yet a light?” And again the esquire answered, “Not yet, Messire.” And again, after awhile, the knight said for the third time, “Floradaine, is there yet a light?” And this time the knight breathed the words as in a whisper of death. Then of a sudden the esquire called out in a loud and joyful voice, “Yea, Lord, now I behold a light!”

[Sidenote: _There cometh a light._]

All this Sir Launcelot beheld in that waking dream, and though it was in the darkness of night, yet he beheld it very clearly, as though it were by the sun of noonday. For he beheld the face of the knight that it was white as of pure wax, and that the sweat of death stood in beads upon his forehead. And he beheld that the esquire was young and fair, and that he had long ringlets of yellow hair that curled down upon his shoulder. Then when the esquire said that he beheld a light, Sir Launcelot beheld the windows of the chapel that they were illuminated from within with a pale blue lustre, as though the dawn were shining in that chapel. And he heard the sound of chaunting voices, at first very faint and far away, but anon ever growing stronger and stronger as the light from the chapel grew stronger. And those voices chaunted a melody that was so sweet and ravishing that it caused the heart to melt as with an agony.

Then the walls of that chapel opened like a door and a light shone forth with a remarkable lustre so that it illuminated the face of that dying knight, and of the page who upheld him. And at the same time the song burst forth in great volume, as it were a thunder of chaunting.

Then forthwith there came out of the chapel a bright shining spear, and two fair hands held the spear by the butt, yet Sir Launcelot could not behold the body to whom those two hands belonged. And after the spear there came forth a chalice, and two fair, white hands held that chalice, but neither could Sir Launcelot behold any body to which those hands belonged. And the chalice seemed to send forth a light of such dazzling radiance that it was as though one looked at the bright and shining sun in his glory.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot beholdeth the Grail in a dream._]

Then Sir Launcelot was aware that this was the Holy Grail of which he was in search, and he strove with all his might to arouse himself, but he could not do so. Then the tears burst out from his eyes and traced down his cheeks in streams, but still he could not arouse himself, but lay chained in that waking sleep.

So the chalice advanced toward that knight, but the knight had not strength to reach forth and touch it. Then the esquire took the arm of the knight and raised it, and he raised the hand of the knight so that the hand touched the chalice.

[Sidenote: _The Grail healeth the wounded knight._]

Then it was as though Sir Launcelot beheld the virtue of the Grail go forth from it, and that it passed through the hand of the wounded knight, and that it passed through his arm and penetrated into his body. For he beheld that the blood ceased to flow from that wounded knight, and that the color flooded back into his cheeks and that the light came back into his eyes and that the strength returned to his body.

Then the knight arose and he kneeled down before the Grail, and he set his palms together and he prayed before the Grail.

Then, slowly, the light that had been so bright from the Grail began to wane. First the spear disappeared, and then the hands that held it disappeared. Then, for awhile, the Grail glowed with a faint, pallid light, and then it, too, vanished, and all was dark as it had been before.

So Sir Launcelot beheld the vision of the Grail, but as in the vision of a dream as I have told it here to you. And still the tears rained from his eyes, for he could not rouse himself to behold it with his waking eyes.

After this the knight and the esquire approached to the place where Sir Launcelot lay asleep, and the esquire said to the knight, “Messire, who is this man, and why sleepeth he here whilst all these wonders pass him by?” And the knight said, “This knight is a very sinful man, and his name is Sir Launcelot of the Lake.” Quoth the esquire, “How hath he sinned?” To which the knight replied, “He hath sinned in this way. He had a beautiful and gentle lady, and he deserted that wife for the sake of Queen Guinevere. So his lady went away and left him, and anon she gave birth to Galahad, and in that birth she also gave her life. So Sir Launcelot betrayed his wife, and because of that betrayal he now lieth sleeping, and he cannot waken until after we are gone away from this place.”

[Sidenote: _The knight taketh Sir Launcelot’s horse._]

Then the esquire said to the knight, “Messire, behold; here this knight hath a good, strong horse. Take thou this horse and leave thine own in its stead. For this horse is fresh and full of life, and thine is spent and weary with battle.” And the knight said, “I will take that horse.”

So the knight took the horse of Sir Launcelot instead of his own. And he left his own horse behind him. Then he mounted the horse of Sir Launcelot and the esquire mounted his horse, and after that the knight and the esquire rode away from that place.

Then, after they had gone, Sir Launcelot bestirred himself and awoke. And he would have thought that all that he had beheld was a dream, but he beheld the worn and weary horse of the knight was there, and that his horse was gone. Then he cried aloud in great agony of soul, “Lord, my sin hath found me out!” And therewith he rushed about like a madman, seeking to find a way into that chapel, and finding no way.

[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot is absolved by the Hermit of the Forest._]

So when the day broke he mounted the worn and weary horse that the knight had left, and he rode away from that place and back into the forest; and his head hung low upon his breast. When he had come into the forest and to the cell of the hermit thereof, he laid aside his armor and he kneeled down before the Hermit of the Forest, and confessed all his sins to him. And the Hermit of the Forest gave him absolution for these sins, and he said, “Take peace, my son. For although thou shalt not behold the Grail in thy flesh, yet shall God forgive thee these sins of thine that lie so heavily upon thy soul.”

Then Sir Launcelot arose chastened from his confession. And he left his armor where it lay and assumed the garb of an anchorite. And he went away from that place, into the remoter recesses of the forest. There he dwelt in the caves and in the wilds, living upon berries and the fruits of the forest. And he dwelt there a long time until he felt assured that God had forgiven him. Then he returned to his kind again; but never after that day was he seen to smile.

* * * * *

So hath this been told to you that you may see how it is that the sins that one hath committed follow one through one’s life and in the end bring the soul such distress and failure as that which Sir Launcelot here suffered and endured. For it hath already been told in another volume than this book (which same is called “The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions”) how that Sir Launcelot of the Lake remained at the Court of King Arthur whilst his Lady, Elaine the Fair, quitted the court, and how that he remained at that court, being held there by the wiles and the charms of Queen Guinevere. Then it was told how that the Lady Elaine died for loneliness and grief in giving birth to Galahad, and it was told how that Sir Launcelot repented him for that death with deep and bitter remorse.

So it was because of that sin that he was not now permitted to behold the Grail with his waking eyes nor to touch it with his living hands. For a sin doth not quit a man because he hath remorse for it nor is it wiped from his soul because he repents him of it, but always it remaineth by him and by and by the time cometh when he must pay to the full the account of that sin which he hath one time committed.

* * * * *

For so it is with all of those who commit a sin, be it great or be it less. For they cannot correct that sin by remorse or by repentance, but only by so living a life of righteousness that that sin shall be removed away from them, so that it becometh as though it were not.

* * * * *

So it was with Launcelot, for he was to pay in full for that sin which he had committed. For never did he behold the Grail other than it was at that time and never did he touch it with his hand; nay; never did he touch it even with so much as a single finger; but otherwise he remained as a recluse in a cell coadjacent to the cell of the Hermit of the Forest, as aforesaid.

There leave we him to follow the other parts of this story, for here followeth the story of Sir Percival, which you are now to read if you would enter further into the history of these things herein told of.

So while the mind of Sir Percival was elsewhere, the horse which he rode slipped his foot upon a round, loose stone, and the stone turned under the horse’s foot so that it strained its shoulder. At first Sir Percival knew naught of this mishap, but presently, anon, the horse began to limp as it walked. And every minute the horse of Sir Percival limped worse than it had limped the minute before. So Sir Percival wist not what to do, for here was he with a horse that could not fare farther with him, and there was no house within sight, and there was no person within sight upon all that barren waste.

So Sir Percival dismounted from his horse, and he took the bridle of the horse over his arm, and so he walked with the bridle over his arm and the horse limped behind him.

Thus he travelled for a great way, and anon he left that stony waste behind him, and came to a country where green things grew. And anon after that he came to a place that was spread all over with fertile fields of grass interspersed with plantations of trees, both oak trees and elm trees.

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival meeteth a damsel in red._]

Here, passing by a small fountain of water, he beheld a fair damsel sitting beside the margin of that fountain, and the damsel was clad all in red, from top to toe. This damsel had with her a palfrey and a great black horse beside that palfrey, and the black horse was very remarkable for breadth and sinew, for his shoulders were deep and his legs were corded with muscles, and his fetlocks were adorned with long and curling hairs, and his eyes were very bright and shining as with fire beneath them, and his ears were sharp and pointed, as though they had been cut with a fine knife, and his mane and tail were thick and black, like the clouds of night, and there was not a white hair upon him, from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail.

[Sidenote: _The damsel giveth a horse to Sir Percival._]

Quoth Sir Percival, “Hah, maiden, that is a fine horse that thou hast there.” Said she, “Yea, Messire; he is a very fine horse.” Said Sir Percival, “I would that thou wouldst sell me that horse; for mine own, as thou seest, is gone lame.” The maiden said, “Sir, are you not Sir Percival of Gales?” Then Sir Percival was greatly astonished that the damsel should know him, and he said, “Yea, damsel, that is my name.” “Then,” quoth she, “I cannot accept money from you for this horse. But if you will take him for your own, then you may have him. So leave you your lame horse here, and take this horse instead of it. For wit you I have been sent with this horse that you might have it to ride upon.”

Then was Sir Percival still more astonished at what the damsel said, and he knew not what to think that the damsel should be there at that place with a fresh, sound horse for his use when his own horse had fallen lame. So he thanked the damsel in great measure, and he handed her the reins of his horse, and took the reins of the black horse. Then he put his foot in the stirrup and mounted the black horse at one leap.

[Sidenote: _The horse rideth away with Sir Percival._]

So the horse stood quite still until Sir Percival had his seat and his feet in the stirrups. After that it bowed its head and took the bit in its teeth. Then immediately it rushed away to the southward with great speed like the wind, and its mane and tail stood out straight behind it because of its speed. Nor could Sir Percival control or guide it, for the horse held the bit between its teeth and it was as though blinded, rushing forward like the wind. And ever it ran toward the southward, without let or stay. And Sir Percival said to himself, “What sort of a beast is this upon which I am sitting, is it a horse or is it a lion or is it a dæmon?”

[Sidenote: _The horse bringeth him to the sea._]

So the horse rushing onward began, by and by, to draw nigh to the sea, for now and then Sir Percival could catch glimpses of the sea across the uplands like a thread of bright silver against the distant horizon; for by this time night had fallen. And anon he could hear the roaring of the sea beating upon a place where there were a great many rocks, and where the water spouted and churned amongst the rocks as white as milk. Then, reaching this spot, the horse stopped all of a sudden, panting and trembling and all a lather with sweating foam.

Then Sir Percival dismounted from the horse, and as soon as his foot touched the earth the black horse vanished and Sir Percival stood there alone. And he wist not what to do, but stood there doubting and wondering.

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival meeteth a beautiful lady._]

Anon as he so stood he beheld something coming a great way off, and ever it came nearer and nearer, and by and by he perceived that it was a boat, and that it was approaching very rapidly the place where he stood, and that without either sails or oars to urge it upon its course. So Sir Percival stood there and watched the boat as it drew rapidly nearer to him, and by and by he perceived that there was someone in the boat, and then he perceived that it was a beautiful lady, and that there were seven beautiful damsels attendant upon her. And he beheld that this lady was clad all in red, and that her hair was red, the color of gold, and that it was emmeshed in a net of gold. And around her dress and her neck he beheld that there were chains and ornaments of gold, so that the lady sparkled and gleamed as though she had been an image of jewels and of gold. And the attendants of the lady were also clad in red and also wore ornaments of gold about their necks, wherefore the whole boat gleamed and shone as with a shine of golden light.

Thus that boat came to the beach where Sir Percival stood, and the lady stepped from the boat upon the sand, and Sir Percival came forward and assisted her to disembark. And the lady said, “Hail, Sir Percival, and give thee peace.” And all the attendants of that lady also said, “Give thee peace.”

Quoth Sir Percival, “Who are ye who know me and I know not you?” To the which the lady made reply, “We are fay and not of this earth, therefore we know many things that you wit not of.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival sits at feast with the lady._]

Then that lady bade her attendants to set up a pavilion and they did so, and the pavilion was of red samite, and above it was a great banner of white samite embroidered with the figure of a leopard in threads of gold. And in the pavilion they set a table of gold, and they covered the table with a napkin of finest linen, and the lady of the boat took Sir Percival by the hand and led him into the pavilion.

Then Sir Percival and the lady seated themselves at the table, and the damsels attendant upon the lady served them with food. And certain of these attendant maidens took harps into their hands, and they played upon the harps, and sang in unison to those two, and so sweet was the music they made that it melted the heart to listen to them.

And those who waited upon Sir Percival and the lady brought to them all manner of dishes, dressed with spices and condiments of all sorts, and Sir Percival and the damsel ate together. Then others brought wines of all sorts, both white wines and red, and this wine was very powerful and sweet, and Sir Percival and the lady drank together. And the wine flowed very strongly through the veins of Sir Percival so that his head swam with the strength of that wine and with the potency thereof.

Then, by and by, the lady grew very fond toward Sir Percival, and she put her arms about his shoulders and held him very close to her. With this the wine swam still more powerfully in Sir Percival’s head, and he knew not very well what he said or did. And he said, “Lady, tell me--what is this, and why am I here?” To this she answered, “Percival, thou glorious knight! this is the pavilion of Love, and I am the spirit of Venus who inhabits it. So yield thou to that spirit and take thou the joy of thy life whiles thou mayst.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival kisses the lady._]

Therewith she reached her arms again to Sir Percival and he reached his arms toward her and he took her into his arms. And Sir Percival kissed her upon the lips and the fire from her lips passed into his heart and set his soul aflame.

Then, in that moment, he knew not why, he suddenly bethought him of that fair lady whom he had met in the tent when first he went forth as a knight, clad in his armor of wicker-work. And he thought of how he had kissed her that time; and he thought of how he had beheld her in that cold and windy room of the castle, lying dead and white before him; and he thought of how he had beheld the Spear and the Grail that time in the castle. Then it was as though a wind of ice struck across the flame of his passion, and he cried out thrice in a loud voice, “God! God! God! What is this I would do, and why should I sin in this wise?” And therewith he drew upon his forehead the sign of the cross.

[Sidenote: _The lady disappears._]

Then in an instant the lady who sat beside him shrieked very loud and shrill, and all about him was confusion and turbulence. And Sir Percival looked, and behold! it was not a strange and beautiful lady who sat beside him like a wonderful goddess, but it was the Enchantress Vivien, clad in red and bedecked with her jewels. For it was she who had thus planned the undoing of Sir Percival by causing him to sin.

Then Sir Percival cried, “Hah! Is it thou who wouldst betray me?” And therewith he reached for his sword which he had laid aside. Then, seeing what he intended, the Enchantress Vivien shrieked again, and she smote her hands together, and in that instant she disappeared, and all her attendants disappeared, and the pavilion and the table and all of the feast and wine disappeared, and the boat in which she had come disappeared, and Sir Percival found himself sitting alone upon the seaside.

Then Sir Percival kneeled down and he set his hands together and he prayed. And he said, “O God! how hast thou saved thy servant by means of a floating thought? For the thought of that which was sacred and holy hath purged my sin that was very close to me.” And he said, “How shall I thank thee for this; for lo! I trod upon a crust so thin that, had I borne even a part of my weight upon it, I would have fallen through that crust as into a lake of fire.”

So he prayed for a long time and by and by he was comforted. Then he arose and stood up, and he girded his sword tight about him. And he cast his eyes all around and he beheld that he was alone and in a very desolate place. And, at that time, the full moon was shining very brightly.

Anon he beheld in the gloom of the distance an object that approached very rapidly. And this object also was a boat, but there was no one in it.

And when the boat approached nigh enough he beheld that there was a couch within it, and that the couch was covered with white linen. But no other thing was in the boat but that.

Then Sir Percival said, “What is this? Is there a sin also in this, or is it without sin?” And he said, “If this be sin, then let it declare itself,” and therewith he marked the sign of the cross upon his forehead.

But there followed not any malignant sign after that, but the boat remained there where it was.

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival entereth a boat._]

Then Sir Percival perceived that it was intended for him to enter that boat, and he did enter it. And at that time the moon had arisen very full and round. And the moon shone down upon the earth with a wonderful radiance. So that what with the light in the sky from the moonlight, it was as though a strange and magical radiance embalmed the entire earth.

[Sidenote: _The boat sails away with him._]

Then the boat moved away from the shore very rapidly and smoothly. And it ran past the sharp and treacherous rocks, and it went past all obstructions and so out into the broad and heaving surface of the sea beyond.

* * * * *

Here all was stillness and peace, for all about was the hush and silence of night time, and there was no sound whatsoever to mar that stillness, but only the moon and the stars shining above in the sky.

So Sir Percival laid him down upon the couch and anon he slept a very deep and dreamless sleep.

Now leave we Sir Percival lying in that boat, and turn we to the story of Sir Bors de Ganis and how it befell with him at this time.

Upon a certain day Sir Bors rode into the forest, and by and by he came to the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest. And the Hermit welcomed Sir Bors, saying, “God save thee,” and Sir Bors greeted the Hermit, saying, “God save thee and keep thee, Sir Hermit.” So Sir Bors abided that night with the Hermit of the Forest, and when the next morning had come he besought the Hermit to confess him. And the Hermit of the Forest shrived Sir Bors, and he beheld that the soul of Sir Bors was very white and clean and that he was extraordinarily free from sin. And the Hermit said to him, “Sir, if valor and if purity of life may so recommend a man that he may win the Grail, then will you certainly behold it with the eyes of your body and touch it with the hand of your flesh. For you are both very brave and very pure of life.”

To this Sir Bors said, “Sir, that which you tell me is exceedingly comforting to me, for so would I rather achieve a sight of the Grail and touch that sacred vessel than anything else in all the world. Now, I pray you, tell me if there is anything else that I may do that may better fit me to find that holy chalice.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors vows a fast._]

Quoth the Hermit, “There is but one thing, and that thing is that you finally purify yourself by refraining from eating any manner of meat, and that you fast upon bread and water until you have beheld and have touched the Grail.” Said Sir Bors, “Holy Father, so will I fast from meat and wine.” And the Hermit said, “And this also shall you do. You shall lay aside your armor and shall ride forth in leathern doublet and hose and shall wrap yourself in your red cloak against the inclemencies of the weather.” Said Sir Bors, “That also will I do.”

So Sir Bors laid aside his armor of defence, and he wrapped himself in his red cloak, and thus he rode forth into the world.

After that Sir Bors travelled for an entire day, and whensoever he came to a roadside cross, he kneeled down before it and recited a prayer. So against early eventide he came to a part of the country that was altogether strange and new to him, for here were bogs and marshes, and many pools and ponds of water where were heron and other water-fowl. So Sir Bors wist not where he should lodge that night. But anon he beheld in the distance before him a single tower standing upright upon that flat expanse, and the tower was like a finger of stone pointing up into the sky. So Sir Bors made his way toward the castle, and by and by he came to where the castle was.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors cometh to a castle_.]

Coming to that place Sir Bors smote upon the doorway of the castle, and he smote again and again. By and by one came and opened the door, and that one was a very aged porter clad all in buckram, and the buckram was stained and blotched, as with the stain of many years.

The porter said to Sir Bors, “Sir, who are you, and whence come you?” And to this Sir Bors made reply, “I am one seeking lodging and shelter for the night.” The porter said, “Sir, I pray you enter, for you are exceedingly welcome, and the lady of this castle, though just now in very great sorrow, is about to sit at supper.”

So Sir Bors entered the courtyard, and he tied his horse to an iron ring that was in the side wall of the castle in the courtyard. Then the aged porter led Sir Bors to his room and there left him to wash and to refresh himself, whilst he returned to the horse to put it into the stable and to feed it.

After Sir Bors had washed and refreshed himself he descended from his room again, and there he found the aged porter awaiting him. The porter said, “Sir, come with me,” and Sir Bors followed him. And the porter led the way from that place into a hall, where there was a table set out for refreshment.

Here Sir Bors beheld a young and very beautiful lady, and she was the chatelaine of the castle. The face of this lady was very white and exceedingly sorrowful, and her eyelids were red as with continual weeping. And she was clad in a long, straight black robe, without ornament or adornment of any sort. She received Sir Bors with great civility, albeit she did not smile at all; and anon they sat down at table together.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors sups with a beautiful lady._]

So the supper was brought in and set before them, and it was the old porter who served them with their meal. But Sir Bors ate no meat, neither did he drink any wine; otherwise, he ate of the bread and drank of the water that was set before them. Anon the chatelaine of the castle said to him, “Sir, you do not eat of the food of the castle that is set before you. How doth that happen?” Quoth he, “Lady, I do not eat the food because I have assumed a vow to eat no meat of any sort until I have accomplished a certain purpose, and I drink the water because I have made the same vow concerning wine.” And the lady said, “To what purpose is that, Messire?” Quoth he, “I am in quest of the Grail, and to that end I travel, fasting and mortifying myself.”

[Sidenote: _The lady tells her story._]

Then, after a little while, he said to her, “Lady, you are sad, will you not tell me the cause of your sorrow?” To the which she said, “Sir, that will I gladly do. It is thus: my father was the king of all this land as far as you can see to the westward of this. For this castle standeth upon the marches of my father’s country, and is very near to the lands of another king who is neighbor to this place. My mother died, and my father married another lady who was both wicked and cruel. So when my father died this lady seized upon my inheritance, and cast me out into the world upon mine own dependence. After that she drove me from castle to castle until this is my last refuge and defence. For now I dwell herein with only this ancient porter and his wife in attendance upon me. Nor is she satisfied to leave even this poor house in my possession, for to-morrow she cometh with several knights to drive me forth from this my last refuge.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors offereth himself for her defence._]

So said the Lady Chatelaine of that place, and when she had ceased speaking she wept with a passion of tears. Then the heart of Sir Bors was greatly moved with sympathy, and he said to her, “Lady, I am greatly grieved at thy sorrow and at its cause.” And he said, “What is thy name?” She said, “It is Leisette.” Then said Sir Bors, “Lady Leisette, let me tell thee that had I but a suit of armor to wear, I would stand as thy defender upon this occasion, and that to-morrow I would stand between thy father’s wife and thee, even though the knights that follow her be several and I be but one.” “Sir,” said the lady, “It may hardly be that one knight could withstand the assault of several; but I may tell you that in this castle there is a suit of armor (though of a bygone date), that might serve your purpose. But to what end would you use it? For the knights attendant upon this lady are all well-tried knights of battle, and you are maybe not accustomed to wearing armor, seeing that you travel through the world without armor of any sort upon your body.” Then Sir Bors smiled, and he said, “Let that be as it may; nevertheless, I have worn armor more than once in my life; so I pray you to send that suit of armor to my room to-night, that I may look at it, and perhaps try it on.” And the lady said, “It shall be done as you ask.”

So that night the old porter brought the armor to the room of Sir Bors, and he assisted Sir Bors to clothe himself in the armor, and Sir Bors found that the armor fitted him very exactly, and he was glad.

Now when the next day was come Sir Bors walked with the Lady Leisette in the gardens of the castle. And Sir Bors beheld that she was exceedingly beautiful and his heart went out to her, and he said to her, “Lady, meseems your trouble lyeth in this, that you have no knight for your husband who may defend your rights and claims. Were you wedded to such a knight, then, you would not suffer these wrongs.” Quoth she, “What knight would take me for his wife, who am a dowerless lady, with only one castle left of all her inheritance?”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors talketh at length with the lady._]

He said to her, “I say naught concerning myself and mine own strength and valor. But this I will say, that if I have such fortune as may lead me to overcome your enemies to-day, I would offer myself to you as your husband.” She said, “Sir, thou doest me great courtesy. Were I owner of those three considerable towns that were once my father’s then I would take thee for my suitor. But as I am now the puppet of so sad a fate, what shall I say to thee?” Quoth he, “Say aye.” And she said, “Who art thou, sir?” Quoth he, “I am called Sir Bors de Ganis.” Then she said, “Aye,” speaking with downcast eyes, and so low a voice that he could hardly hear her. For the name of Sir Bors was very well known throughout the entire world, both because of his strength and his valor. Wherefore she was very much pleased to have him with her.

Just then there came to them the old porter of the castle and he said to them, “Prepare yourselves, for hither cometh the Queen of this country, together with a court of lords and ladies, and with several knights champion for her escort.” Then Sir Bors said, “Now I will go and arm myself for battle.” And she said, “Go!”

So Sir Bors withdrew to his room and the porter of the castle went with him, and the porter put upon him the pieces of armor and buckled them very tightly together so that they joined and fitted. And they buckled a great sword upon one side of him and a misericordia upon the other. Then when he was in all wise prepared, he took a mighty lance into his hand and went down into the courtyard and mounted upon his horse. Then came the Lady Leisette to him and saluted him and he said to her, “Give me, I pray you, some favor for to wear.” And she said, “I will do so,” and therewith gave him the scarf from about her throat. And she tied the scarf about his arm. Then the porter of the castle opened the gate, and Sir Bors rode forth from the castle and took his stand in the high-road in front of the castle, and awaited the coming of those others who were now drawing near to that place.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors offereth himself as champion._]

Anon the Queen of that country perceived Sir Bors where he stood and she cried out to him, “Sir, who are you who stand there, and why do you confront us so?” To the which Sir Bors made reply, “Lady, I am the champion of the lady of this castle, and as her knight I stand here to await your coming.”

She said to him, “Know you to whom you speak?” and he said, “Yea, I know very well; therefore I am here.”

Then the Queen was very angry, and she cried out to one of her knights, of whom there were seven in all, “Remove this man from our path so that we may enter the castle and turn out of it that lady who now holdest it.”

Thereupon, with that saying, the knight to whom she spoke rode forth from the others, and he said to Sir Bors, “Sir, will you do battle with me?” Quoth Sir Bors, “Very gladly, and for that purpose am I here.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors overthroweth the knight._]

So each knight prepared himself in all wise for battle, and when each had assumed his proper place, the word of command was given and they rushed together, thundering and with great violence. So they met in the midst of the course, and in that encounter the spear of the knight who assaulted Sir Bors was broken into as many as twenty or thirty pieces, but the spear of Sir Bors held, so that the knight was hurled out of his saddle and down to the earth with such violence that his neck was broken, and he died.

Then the Queen was astonished that her chiefest knight should be so overthrown, and therewith she cried out to her other six knights, “Hey, Messires! Assault him all at once so that he may be overthrown, and so that we may enter this castle!” So, upon that word of command, all six of those knights drew their swords and rushed upon Sir Bors. He, beholding them coming thus, threw aside his spear and drew his brightly shining sword, and so they all met together, Sir Bors in the midst of them.

In that battle he well proved his right to be a knight of the Round Table, for he wheeled his horse to this side and to that, and ever as he wheeled it about he smote from right to left and from left to right. Two knights fell before those strokes, and then another fell, so that there were but three left standing against him.

These, seeing how he dealt with them, presently bore back before his fierce assaults, and so he sat for awhile, panting for breath, and with the crimson flowing from several wounds he had received.

Then the Queen chided the three knights, crying out upon them, “How now! How now! Are you, three knights, afraid of that one knight who is already wounded in several places? Go ye against him and overthrow him!”

But ere these three could bring themselves to assail him again, he, not waiting for their assault, rushed upon them shouting and in that sudden assault he smote down another of them with his sword. Then the two who were left, beholding their comrade fall, were filled with terror and dismay. Their hearts melted like wax within them, and they drew rein and turned and immediately fled from that place.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors chases the fleeing knights._]

So Sir Bors pursued them thence shouting, and the two fled straight through the midst of the court of the Queen, and the court dissolved away to right and left from before them, shrieking with terror. Just beyond the purlieus of that court Sir Bors overtook the first of those two who fled, and he smote him so that he fell like a sack from his horse, and rolled over and over upon the ground. Then anon he reached the last of those knights, and coming to him he rose up in his stirrups and smote him with all his might and main. And the blade of that sword shore through the helmet of that knight and it shore through the iron cap beneath the helmet, and it shore through his skull to the throat. Then that knight emitted a dreadful groan, and fell dead to the earth, and his horse galloped on without him.

Then Sir Bors rode back again to that court, and he rode up to the Queen with a threatening countenance, and at his coming she was struck as white as an ash of wood. And Sir Bors said to her, “Lady, what do you here at this place?” Then the Queen trembled before him, and anon she said, “Sir, I come hither seeking my rights.” He said, “Those rights you seek are not yours, they are another’s. Come with me.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors takes the Queen into the castle._]

So saying, he suddenly catched her horse by the bridle and drew her thence, and no one of all that court dared to prevent him. And Sir Bors led the horse of the Queen toward that solitary tower of stone, and when he reached the gate he cried out aloud, “Open to me!” Then the porter of that castle opened the gate thereof, and Sir Bors led the Queen into the castle. Then the porter shut the gate of the castle again, and the Queen was within the walls of the castle and her court of lords and ladies was without the walls thereof.

All this the lady of the castle had beheld from the battlements, and her heart was filled with joy and triumph thereat. So anon when Sir Bors appeared upon the roof of the turret where she was, she ran to him and catched him and embraced him with great passion, wounded as he was.

But Sir Bors put her aside, and he went to the edge of the wall, and he spake to the court of the Queen, saying, “Why wait ye there? Your Queen is here with us, and here she shall remain our prisoner until justice is done to the lady of this castle. So return ye to your towns and tell them this word of mine to you: that justice must be done to this lady, or else she who called herself Queen cannot go free.”

After that he withdrew himself from their sight, and he went to his room where he might bathe himself and dress his hurts. Meantime the court of the Queen went away from that place, and they were left alone.

That same day in the afternoon there came three knights thitherward, and with them came three esquires, and each esquire led a horse, and upon each horse was a chest.

Of these three knights, one each was from one of the towns of that kingdom.

[Sidenote: _Of the three knights of the towns, their mission._]

Then the knight from the chiefest of those three towns blew upon a bugle-horn, and anon Sir Bors appeared upon the battlement of the tower where there was a small turret. Then the knight from without greeted him, saying, “Sir, hail to you. We three come hither to tell you that we repent us that we have done wrong to the lady of this tower, wherefore we will accept her for our queen. Only this: that she shall marry some good, worthy knight such as yourself, and that he shall be our King as she is our Queen. For that which we need at this place is not a woman to rule us, but a man.”

Then Sir Bors laughed and he said, “Sir, I will take you at your word, and in a little while this lady shall marry some gentleman who shall rule over you.” For Sir Bors thought to himself, “Haply I shall be that man.”

So the gates of that castle were opened, and the three knights entered the courtyard thereof. Then they opened the three chests that their esquires had brought into the castle courtyard, and in those chests were all manner of raiment of silks and velvets, together with jewels, and golden ornaments of divers sorts and designs such as were fit for a queen to adorn herself withal.

These were conveyed to the rooms of the lady of the castle, and she arrayed herself in them, and when she was thus arrayed she shone with a wonderful beauty and splendor, even as the sun shines when the mists of heaven dissolve before his face.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors and the lady ride away from the castle._]

After that the lady of the castle and Sir Bors and the three knights and their esquires all mounted upon their horses and rode away from that castle, leaving behind them the lady who had been the Queen of that land. For there she should abide for awhile under guard of the old porter of that place.

So, at last, they reached the chief city of that kingdom where were great concourses of people assembled to welcome them. These shouted aloud with a tumult of applause as their new Queen rode up the stony street amongst them. And everywhere were banners and streamers of many colored silks, fluttering in the sunlight from the pinnacles of the houses. So that all the sunlight was gay with radiant tints of red and blue and yellow and green, and divers gaudy colors, and all the air was merry with the shouting of multitudinous voices.

Thus they reached the castle, and so the rightful queen became queen again.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors hath a dream._]

Now one night Sir Bors had a dream. He saw before him a tall and splendid knight, clad all in pure and shining white, and the knight said to him, “Sir Bors! Sir Bors! What is it you do?” And Sir Bors dreamed that he said to him in reply, “I would abide here and rule this kingdom justly.” The knight said, “Hast thou so soon forgot the quest of the Grail that in such a short time thou shouldst think only of this and not of that?”

Then it seemed to Sir Bors that he was stricken to the heart with remorse and he cried out aloud, “I will not forget! I will not forget!” And with that cry he awoke from his dream and found that it was a dream and that he was trembling as with an ague.

And all that day the thought of the dream haunted him, so that in the afternoon, whilst he and the Queen were walking in the garden of the castle, he spoke to her of it. And after he had told her what he had dreamed, he said to her, “Lady, ere I wed thee and settle in this place, there is a duty I must yet perform. For wit you I am in quest of the Grail and the Grail hath not yet been found. So bid me now to go forth and to continue my search of it, and when I have found it, then I shall return to thee and wed thee.” To this the Queen made reply, “Sir Bors, you have only been with me now for four days, and your wooing is not yet grown warm. Would you then leave me before that wooing groweth warm so that it may cool the quicker?” Quoth Sir Bors, “My wooing shall not grow cold, for I will hold it close to my heart in thy remembrance, and there I will keep it warm, so that when I return again it will be sprung into life.” The lady said, “Do not leave me, Sir Bors, for now that my rights are won, thou must remain near to me to help me to protect those rights. Else it may be that my enemies shall rise against me once more and overthrow me. It is well for thee to search for the Grail, but what peculiar virtue will there be in it, or in thee when thou hast found it?”

Sir Bors said, “Lady, I do not think that thine enemies can arise against thee. For thine enemy is thy father’s wife, and she is yet confined in that solitary castle in which I found thee. But come what may, I must now quit this place and go forth again upon my quest. For when a knight hath vowed to undertake a certain thing, that thing he must continue to pursue until he hath completed it--even though that thing may appear to be small unto others. Yet the recovery of this Grail is not a small thing; otherwise it is a very great and a very considerable thing for any knight to undertake.”

Then the Queen of that town began weeping, and she said, “Sir Bors, if thou quittest me now, I know that it must be that thou quittest me for aye. For in the recovery of the Grail thou wilt forget me, and wilt never again return to this place. What, then, shall I do without thee?” Then Sir Bors bowed his face full low and he said, “Lady, that is a hard saying that thou utterest. Yet even were it so, still should I be compelled to search for the Grail. For that is the crowning work of the Round Table, and if so be I shall be instrumental in its recovery, then shall I, indeed, have done a great work in the world and shall not have lived in it in vain.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors quitteth the lady._]

After that Sir Bors withdrew from that place. And he went to his rooms and summoned three esquires. These assisted him to his armor, and when he was armed he descended to the stables and there he gave orders that his horse should be brought forth to him. And he mounted upon his horse, and so he rode forth upon his way once more. And he did not again speak to that Lady Queen; for he said to himself, “Of what avail can it be to bid her adieu? It will but cause pain to her and pain to me. So I will go without bidding her adieu.”

For thus it was whenever a knight of old made a vow, then that knight set behind him all that was of pleasure or of profit, and drave straight forward to fulfil that vow which he had made. Hence it was that those great knights of King Arthur’s Round Table achieved all their vows that it was possible for them to achieve. For thus is it better to do one’s duty at all hazards and no matter what may befall one in the doing thereof. For duty lyeth before all the pleasures and all the glories of the world, wherefore he who doeth his duty under all circumstances, that man cannot go astray in his performances.

So Sir Bors rode forward for all that day and for part of the next day, and toward evening of the second day he found himself in a strange, wild place. For he knew not where he was or what place it was to which he had come. For there was a wide stretch of dark and dismal land upon all sides of him. And very little grass grew upon that land, but many thorn bushes, most of them without leaves or foliage of any kind. And anon a carrion crow would spring from the earth and fly heavily away against the grey and dismal sky, but beyond such things there was no eye of any sort at that place, but only darkness without any soul alive within it.

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors meets a White Knight._]

Here he came to a cross-road and as he approached that cross-road he was aware of a solitary knight who was there and waiting. And this knight was clad all in white armor, and he sat upon a white horse, and he was the knight whom Sir Bors had seen in his dream; and when Sir Bors drew nigh he saluted him, saying, “Greeting, Sir Bors, whither goest thou?”

Then Sir Bors said, “Messire, who art thou who knowest me and I know not thee? For I beheld thee last night, but in a dream.” The White Knight said, “It matters not who I am, but wit you this, that I know you very well, and I know that you seek the Holy Grail. Sir Galahad shall achieve that Grail, and you and Sir Percival, who am the next purest knight to him, shall find it with him. Here have I been waiting for you for some while, and at last you have come. So come now with me.” And Sir Bors said, “I will do so.”

So after that they two rode together side by side. And anon the sun sank and the moon arose, very still and bright, and ever they two rode on in that way side by side together.

And Sir Bors spoke no word to the White Knight and the White Knight spoke no word to Sir Bors, but ever they rode in silence all bathed by the white moonlight; their shadows, black and obscure, following them.

So at last they came to where there was a wide and stony waste without a blade of grass or a tree growing upon it, but only a great stretch of round hard stones of various sizes spread thick all over the earth before them. Then the White Knight said to Sir Bors, “Yonder is our road; let us go thither.”

So they two rode straight forward as that knight had directed they should do, and all about them lay the white and silent moonlight, like to a bath of pure and limpid silver. So anon and after a considerable while Sir Bors heard a great roaring, though far away from where they were. Then the White Knight drew rein and said, “Hearken, Sir Bors, hear ye that sound, and wit ye what it is?” Sir Bors said, “What is that sound?” The White Knight said, “That is the sea breaking upon the beach. Thither it is we go.”

[Sidenote: _They come to the sea._]

So by and by they came to where there was a little cove of the sea, and beyond the cove the great waves burst upon the beach. So the White Knight rode down to the shores of that cove, and Sir Bors followed, and at that place there was a hard and level beach of pure white sand, and some rocks were beyond that sand.

Here Sir Bors beheld that there was a boat beside the rocks, and the boat rested against the shore, and it was hung within with pure white linen. And within the middle of the boat was a couch, and on the couch there was a knight lying asleep. And Sir Bors perceived that that knight was Sir Percival.

Then the White Knight said to Sir Bors, “Sir Bors, enter yonder boat, for so only shalt thou find the Grail.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors enters the boat._]

So Sir Bors dismounted from his horse and he entered the boat, and with that Sir Percival awoke and sat up. And when Sir Percival perceived Sir Bors there in the boat he gave him greeting, and Sir Bors greeted Sir Percival.

Then the White Knight gave the boat a thrust from the shore, and the boat immediately sped away very swiftly into the night-time. And as Sir Bors and Sir Percival gazed back behind them they could yet see the figure of the White Knight seated upon his horse as still and motionless as though he were carved in marble stone. And though neither of them knew it, yet that knight was the spirit of Sir Balan who had returned to lead those knights champion to find the Grail.

Then anon that white figure faded into the dimness of the moonlight and was gone, and all about them lay the sea, very strange and mysterious and yet full of motion. And the bright whiteness of the moonlight lay moving upon the crests of the waves, and ever it wavered this way and that as though it were liquid silver poured upon the waves.

* * * * *

Such were the adventures of Sir Bors at this time.

Nor shall you think ill of him because he left that beautiful lady who was his betrothed wife to seek the Grail. For wit you that the Grail was thought by all the world to be the greatest and the most important thing in that world; and its recovery was adjudged to be the most splendid and the noblest deed that any knight could undertake. Wherefore it was that Sir Bors would surrender all his hope of love and of riches and of worldly honor to seek for that Grail.

This he did not for his own glory but for the glory of heaven, and not for his own honor, but for the honor of Paradise, where that Grail really belonged.

Wherefore he would turn aside from all that the world had to offer him and would direct his face and all his endeavor to the recovery of that sacred chalice, content, if he should recover it or aid in its recovery, to sacrifice all the world for the sake of that recovery.

For be it said at this place that the Lady Leisette did not wait the return of Sir Bors, but, finding him gone, she took for her husband a certain noble knight of that kingdom, and he ruled that land in her behalf with great benignity of judgment and with high honor of knightly wisdom.

Now pass we from the story of Sir Bors and turn we to the further adventures of Sir Galahad at that time, as followeth.

And Sir Galahad sat upon his horse on the edge of that bowl and gazed down into it. And he beheld a great way off a castle; and he beheld that there was a concourse of many knights gathered about that castle. For the early sunlight shone down upon the armor of those knights, so that the armor caught the light and flung it back again as it were in brilliant points of pure and blazing flame.

Then Sir Galahad said to himself, “What is that concourse of knights, and why gather they around about that castle in such a wise?” And he said to himself, “I will ride down thither into the valley, and will see for myself what is the meaning of that assembly.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad bespeaketh those knights._]

So therewith he drew rein and descended down into the valley as he proposed to himself to do. And so he approached ever nearer to that distant castle. So by and by he was near enough to them to bespeak them, and when he had come still a little nearer he said to them, “Messires, what is this that you do at this place?” They say to him, “Sir, at this place there was not long since held a tournament of eight knights. In that tournament a certain young knight was slain. We be his relatives and his friends who have come hither to avenge him. So we wait here outside the castle, and those seven knights hide them away from us within the walls of the castle.”

“For shame!” said Sir Galahad. “For shame, that ye who are several should thus besiege seven men who cannot stand against ye. Get you gone and let them come forth.”

They say to him, “We will not get us gone from this place until we have taken those seven men with us. Because it is for that purpose we have come hither and for that purpose shall we stay until it be achieved.”

“Well, then,” said Sir Galahad, “I will assail ye upon this side, and then they will come forth and assail ye upon the other side, and so will we raise this siege.”

At this they all laughed, saying, “Is it possible that one knight can lift the siege of so many against seven? Well, then, let us see if he can do so.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad doeth battle with those knights._]

So they began to prepare themselves for battle, and Sir Galahad began to prepare himself also for battle. So, when he had cast aside his lance and had drawn his sword he lifted up his shield on high, and, shouting, he drave against them. And he drave into the midst of the press, lashing upon this side and upon that. And so terrible were the strokes which he gave that many fell down before them, and all bare away from him, so that anon he had carved a small open space about him.

Now in that party who were thus besieging the castle were Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine his cousin. But Sir Galahad knew not these two knights, and they knew not him. For his armor was much defaced in battle and in the adventures through which he had passed, and at that time he wore a leather covering to his shield. So they knew him not.

So they stood about and looked upon Sir Galahad and he looked upon them, and meantime the knights of the castle made them ready to come forth.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad overcometh Sir Gawaine._]

Then Sir Gawaine said, “For shame that we should thus be driven back by one man! Now I will have to do with him myself.” So he came forward against Sir Galahad, and Sir Galahad awaited him. Then when Sir Gawaine had come close enough, Sir Galahad arose in his stirrups, and he launched a blow at Sir Gawaine that nor leather nor iron could stay. For that blow clove asunder the shield of Sir Gawaine, and it clove asunder his helmet, and it clove asunder the iron coif beneath the helmet, and it bit deep into the bone of the brain-pan itself.

Then the brains of Sir Gawaine swam like shallow water, and he reeled this way and that in his saddle, and would have fallen had it not been for Sir Ewaine, who catched him ere he fell beneath the feet of his horse, and so held him up in the saddle.

Then Sir Gawaine said, “Ah, Ewaine! That was none other than Galahad who smote me that blow. For none other than he could give such a stroke as that. So have I suffered for attempting to draw forth that sword out of the marble stone. Ah! woe is me.” So saying, his dissolving wits left him, and he swooned away as though he were dying.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad bringeth Sir Gawaine into the castle._]

Meantime the knights within the castle had given command that the gates should be opened. So they were flung open according to that command, and the seven knights within the castle issued out to conduct the assault from that side. But Sir Ewaine cried out, “Messires, give over, and we will withdraw from this place. For here is most sorely wounded a very excellent knight, who is the nephew of King Arthur.” “Alas!” cried Sir Galahad. “Woe is me! For so have I carried out the provisions of that prophecy relating to the sword. For it was predicted of this sword that it should bite deep into the life of Sir Gawaine, and lo! it hath done so.” And he said to Sir Ewaine, “Convey him into this castle, for here shall his wound be searched, and he shall be cared for.” And he said to those of the castle, “See to it that all care is given to this gentleman.” And they say to him, “We will do so.”

So Sir Gawaine was conveyed within the castle, and was laid upon a couch. And his wound was searched, and balm was laid upon it. Thus was he put at ease at that place, and so was the prophecy concerning that sword fulfilled.

Then they all beseeched Sir Galahad that he would stay at that castle for a little while, but he would not stay at that place. Otherwise he said, “I must go upon my way, I know not whither. For I have a mission to fulfil, and in fulfilling it I know not whither I go.” So he drew rein and rode away, leaving them behind him.

* * * * *

Now wit ye how the knights of those days fared when they rode errant? I will tell you.

About the middle of that day Sir Galahad came to the house of a farm yeoman, and the wife of the yeoman and the daughter of the yeoman stood in the doorway of the house. The woman who was the wife was large and buxom, but the daughter was very slender and brown.

[Sidenote: _How Sir Galahad refreshes himself._]

Of these Sir Galahad besought food to eat, and they brought to him a loaf of bread, a piece of cheese, and a crock of cider, and Sir Galahad ate and drank, sitting under the shade of a wide-spreading tree. Meanwhile, those people watched him from afar with great interest and curiosity, for never had they beheld a knight so tall and so noble as Sir Galahad.

Thus did these bright-armed knights who wandered errant through the world in those days refresh themselves, and so were they received and entertained by the people whom they met. Thus have I told you of that so that you might know thereof.

That evening, after the sun had set, and the soft and starry night had descended upon the earth like a sparkling coverlet of darkness, very damp and warm, Sir Galahad found himself in a wide moorland, and he wist not where he should sleep.

So at last the moon arose, shining very brightly and tranquilly, and by the light thereof Sir Galahad perceived before him a small chapel. And he said to himself, “Here will I lodge me for the night.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad lodges at a chapel._]

So Sir Galahad rode up to the door of the chapel and he smote very loudly upon the boards of the door with the handle of his misericordia. Anon there came the recluse to whom that chapel belonged, and when he beheld Sir Galahad standing there he bade him to enter. So Sir Galahad entered the chapel, and after the recluse had put the horse of Sir Galahad into the stable nigh to the chapel, he came to where the knight was, and set before him some broth and some pulse, together with some freshly gathered fruit, and Sir Galahad ate thereof with great heartiness.

[Sidenote: _There cometh a lady to the chapel._]

Now, whilst Sir Galahad sat there eating, there came another knock upon the door, and when the recluse went to open it, he beheld standing there a very beautiful lady clad all in white, and with her dark hair bound around with a ribbon of silver. And the lady was mounted upon a cream-white jennet, and the saddle of the jennet was of crimson Spanish leather, embossed and studded with plates and buttons of silver.

When the door was opened, the lady said to the recluse, “Sir, I pray you tell me, is there here within a knight hight Galahad?”

This heard Sir Galahad, and hearing it he arose and came forward, and he said, “Lady, I am Galahad. What would you have of me?”

She said, “Sir, I pray you to come and ride with me and I will lead you to such an adventure as you have never had in all of your life before.” Quoth he, “Where is that adventure?” She said to him, “It is not very far distant from here. But I cannot tell you more than that.” Sir Galahad said, “Whither would you lead me?” She said, “Come and I will show you.”

So Sir Galahad went back into the chapel and armed himself, and the recluse brought forth his horse out of the stable. And anon Sir Galahad, being in all ways armed, came forth out of the hermitage and mounted his horse.

Immediately he was mounted the lady drew rein and turned, and rode away from that place, and Sir Galahad followed her.

[Sidenote: _The lady and Sir Galahad ride together._]

So they rode away across the moorland together. All around them was the stillness of the night-time, and overhead and about them lay the silent whiteness of the effulgent moon. And the shadows of each and the shadows of the horse of each followed them across the moorland, very black and mysterious.

So they travelled a considerable while in silence, for the lady did not speak to Sir Galahad, nor did Sir Galahad speak to her. But each rode in silence, and each was occupied with his or her own thoughts.

[Sidenote: _Sir Galahad beholds the sea._]

Thus, by and by, they reached a high part of the moorland, and of a sudden Sir Galahad beheld the sea, over above the downs. And the moon shone down upon the sea so that it looked like a shining stretch of pure and radiant silver against the night sky that lay behind it. Then Sir Galahad said, “Lady, yonder is the sea.” “Aye,” quoth the other, “and it is thither that I am bringing thee.”

So after awhile they came to where the sea lay below them, and they beheld the waves illuminated by the light of the moonshine lapping against the shore. Then they rode down to the sea, and there was at that place a rocky promontory that stretched out into the water. And they rode across that promontory, and there Sir Galahad beheld a boat lying in the moonlight moored, as it were, to the shore, although no rope attached it to the shore. And as they two approached the boat, Sir Galahad perceived that the boat was all draped and hanged with white linen, and he perceived that there were two men within the boat.

[Sidenote: _He perceives Sir Percival and Sir Bors in a boat._]

The faces of these two were cut out very clear and sharp and white from the darkness behind because of the moonlight that shone upon them, and Sir Galahad perceived that the one of those faces was the face of Sir Percival, and that the other face was the face of Sir Bors de Ganis. These two, beholding Sir Galahad there upon the shore, gave him loud and joyous greeting, crying out, “Greeting, Sir Galahad! And welcome to thee!”

Then Sir Galahad sprang down from off his horse, and he ran down to the shore, leaping from rock to rock. And he sprang into the boat and kissed each of those two upon the cheek, and they kissed him upon the cheek in return. And Sir Galahad said to them, “What do ye here?” To the which they replied, “We wait for thee.” And they say, “What lady is that with whom thou hast come hither?” He replied, “I know her not, but she hath brought me to this place.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival beholdeth his sister._]

And then they beheld that the lady had also dismounted from her horse and was approaching to them. And she came to them down the rocks and she stood close to the boat, and when she did so Sir Percival saw her more clearly and he knew her. Then he cried out, “I know thee! Thou art my sister!” She said, “Yea, that is true.” He said to her, “Sister, what doest thou here?” She replied, “I come to give you information, and it is this: You shall sail away from this place, and by and by you shall find another boat of a very magnificent sort. For that boat is the _Ship of Solomon_, and it is waiting for you. In it you will find the Grail established, and the ship itself will take you whither the Grail belongeth. So enter the _Ship of Solomon_ freely, for no harm shall befall you in it, and it shall convey you to the city of Sarras where the Grail belongeth.” Then turned she to Sir Galahad, and she said, “And to thee, Galahad, am I permitted to say this thing: That it is given to thee that when thou willest thy soul shall depart from thy body. And it shall leave thy body behind, and shall ascend with the glory of angels into Paradise at thy command. All this I have to tell you, and now fare you well.”

Thereafter the lady turned away from them and mounted her horse and rode away. And as she departed she wept, for she was aware that she would never behold Sir Percival again.

Then that boat in which they were moved away from the shore, and anon it moved very swiftly. And it sailed past the headland and out into the sea, and, in a little while, the land disappeared from sight, melting, as it were, into the soft glory of the moonlight that illuminated all the darkness of the earth. And so they sailed swiftly across the sea and the great waves of the sea, and ever the moonlight lay all about them, and they were cradled in the arms of the sea.

So they sailed for all that night, and anon the day dawned, and then they perceived before them another and a larger ship than the boat in which they sailed. And the boat in which they were moved very swiftly toward the ship and at last came close beside it.

[Sidenote: _They come to the “Ship of Solomon.”_]

Then they beheld that that ship was of a very wonderful sort, for it was built all of santal wood, and was tinted with vermilion and ultramarine, and was glorified with gold. And the sails of that ship were of variegated silk, very wonderful to behold. And the decks were spread with rich carpets, and there was no human being of any sort to be perceived about that ship.

Then Sir Percival said, “This wonderful ship must be the _Ship of Solomon_, and into it we are destined to enter and to discover the Grail. So let us enter it forthwith and without loss of time.”

So they departed from their own boat and entered the _Ship of Solomon_, and as soon as they had done so the boat in which they had sailed disappeared and was gone, and they saw it no more. And at that time they were hushed as with a great awe.

[Sidenote: _They find the Grail._]

Then Sir Percival said, “Come, let us behold the Grail, which is here.” So with that saying they all descended below the deck of that boat, and coming there they beheld a table of carved silver, and against the table there leaned the spear and upon the table was a purple velvet cloth, spread over something that stood upon the table, and the cloth was embroidered very richly with gold and ornamented with many precious stones of divers colors. And from beneath it there shone a clear and brilliant light, and that light was emitted by the Grail.

Sir Galahad went to the table and took the cloth by the corners and lifted it up; and lo! beneath it was the Holy Chalice itself. And it blazed with a light that was like that of the sun--very splendid and effulgent--so that they could scarcely look upon the splendor thereof.

Then they all three kneeled down before the Grail, and set their palms together, and gave all honor and glory to its splendors. And Sir Percival said, “I have seen this before, but never so near at hand as this.” And again they all gave praise to it.

So the _Ship of Solomon_ sailed very swiftly away with those three knights in it, and it sailed for all that day, and near eventide it approached a great city that stood upon a high and rocky hill.

[Sidenote: _They come to the city of Sarras._]

And that city was the city of Sarras, and it appeared to the eyes of the three knights to be very great and beautiful. For they beheld that there were very many high pinnacles and towers to that city, and they saw that these were illuminated by the setting sun, so that they appeared as though they were built of pure and shining gold.

So the boat in which they sat sailed very swiftly toward the city, and anon it ceased its voyage beside a wharf that was there.

Then Sir Galahad said, “Let us convey this Holy Chalice to the minster, for, certes, this is where it belongeth.” And Sir Bors and Sir Percival said, “Let us do so.”

So they three took up the silver table by three of its corners, and they bare it toward the gate of the town.

[Sidenote: _How the cripple was healed._]

Now the history of these things telleth that at the town gate there sat a cripple begging, and the cripple had not walked for thirty years. They say to him, “Come, help us bear the fourth corner of this table.” He said, “How can I help bear the table? Lo, I have been a cripple for thirty years, and in that time I have not walked a step without my crutches.” Sir Galahad said, “Nevertheless, arise and come hither.” Then the man arose, supported by his crutches, and they brought the table of the Grail to him, and he laid hands upon the silver table.

Then, no sooner had he touched that table, than the strength flowed into him; his joints became strongly knit and supple, and he was, as it were, no longer a cripple. Then he cried out, “Lo! I am healed!” And with that he skipped and leaped in his strength.

* * * * *

So the Grail was achieved, and now followeth the account of how those three worthy knights brought it in return to the city of Sarras where it belonged, and of what befell them there; so I pray you to read the conclusion of this passage hereinafter written.

Thus they came to the minster, what time the Bishop of that minster was there, and seeing them enter with the silver table he said, “What have you there?” Sir Galahad replied, “Sir, this is the Holy Grail upon this table, and we who have achieved the quest of it have brought it hither where it belongeth.” The Bishop said, “Let me see that Grail.”

So Sir Galahad took the velvet covering of the Grail by the corners and lifted it, and lo! the glory of the Grail blazed forth before the eyes of all. And so great was that glory that it illuminated the entire interior of the minster, so that it was like the illumination of sunlight that was burst into that place. And all they who beheld the Grail and that sudden illumination bowed down before it and uttered their prayers of thanksgiving that it was returned to where it belonged.

So the Grail and the spear were placed before the high altar, and there they remained unveiled; and the glory of them illuminated all the coadjacent spaces with brightness.

So the Grail remained exposed in that city for three days, and at the end of that time it was elevated from earth to heaven, as shall now be told of.

The three knights were there in the great minster, kneeling and praying before the high altar where stood the Grail, when of a sudden they heard a voice from on high, saying, “Hail, ye heroes, and all praise to ye! For ye have recovered that Grail which here and now is to be translated from earth to heaven.”

[Sidenote: _How the Grail ascends to heaven._]

With that voice there came two hands, very white and shining, and they took the Grail, and there was no body to be seen with those hands, but only the hands themselves. And there came two other hands and took the spear, and neither was there any body to those hands. So those four hands lifted the Grail and they lifted the spear, and they bore those two holy relics aloft and away from that place. And they ascended, as it were, through the roof of the minster and were gone in a burst of glory that lingered for some little while and then faded away into darkness.

So it happened with the Grail that it was elevated into heaven, and that this was so was avouched for by many who were in the minster at that time; and several of these beheld those four hands, and saw the Grail elevated from earth to heaven. So this is to be believed in as here narrated.

Then there sounded from on high to the ears that were unstopped to hear that sound, a great anthem as of thanksgiving, as it were the tones of a mighty organ, or as it were the tones of a wonderful and melodious thunder, and they three heard that melody of music, but no other who was there heard it. And they were aware that it was the rejoicing of heaven over the return of those sacred relics to that place, wherefore they were filled with an ecstasy that was not of this world, but of heaven, and that was of great joy, yet was of awfulness and of a sort of terror.

Then was the spirit of Galahad exalted, and he lifted up his voice and cried aloud, “There is nothing remaining for me to live for. So now let me depart in peace.”

[Sidenote: _Of the passing of Galahad._]

Thereat with those words the soul was drawn out of his body and the eyes of those two knights who kneeled beside him were opened and they beheld his spirit ascend into glory, and they beheld that the illumination of heaven shone round about it, and at the same time they heard, with a louder and more momentous tone, the thunder peal of heavenly triumph as the spirit of Galahad was received into its glory, together with the Grail which he had achieved.

Then the brightness closed from their eyes and they beheld themselves to be kneeling in the dark and empty minster. And they looked at the body of Sir Galahad, and behold! it was dead.

So passed Sir Galahad, and at that time he was yet not twenty years of age.

Sir Bors went to the Bishop of that minster, and he said to him, “Sir, this man was altogether a good, virtuous, and perfect knight. It is our desire that his dead body should lie here in this minster at that spot whence the Grail ascended into heaven but now. Wherefore, we beseech you to suffer it to lie at that place.” To these the Bishop said, “Let, then, that be fulfilled as you ask. For I believe that that knight was indeed a very good, excellent, holy man withal.”

So they buried the body of Sir Galahad there in the minster, beside the spot whence the Holy Grail ascended into heaven, and there the tomb of Sir Galahad remained to be seen for many years after his body was so buried.

[Sidenote: _Sir Percival taketh holy orders._]

After this was over and done, it being then the fourth day after they had come thither, Sir Bors said to Sir Percival, “Sir, whither now shall we go?” And Sir Percival said to him, “I shall not go anywhere; for here shall I remain, and here I shall take upon myself holy orders and shall live and die as a monk in those orders. But return you, Sir Bors, to the Court of King Arthur, and tell them of the court concerning all those things that have befallen; to wit, tell them how the Grail was achieved by us three, and how that it was taken up into heaven before our eyes, and how we beheld it enter the gates of heaven. So go you to Camelot, and tell them concerning all these things.”

[Sidenote: _Sir Bors returneth to the Court of the King._]

Thus said Sir Percival, and Sir Bors said, “I will do as you bid me.” So the next day Sir Bors kissed Sir Percival upon the cheeks and either wept salt tears over the other. Then they parted company and Sir Percival remained at that place and became a monk, and Sir Bors departed thence, returning back again to Camelot.

There he arrived at the ending of a year and a day, and all they who were there made great joy over his return. For all those knights who had gone forth in search of the Grail and had not died in that quest had now returned, saving only Sir Launcelot of the Lake. For it had become known throughout the world that the Grail had been found, and that it had been elevated into heaven, so that all those who were seeking for it were returned back home again.

Then Sir Bors told them all the circumstances of the finding of the Grail, and how it had been elevated in the minster at Sarras, and of how Sir Galahad had died, and of how he had beheld the soul of Sir Galahad exalted to heaven.

And King Arthur had that history written down in three great books, and one of those books was established at Salisbury, and another at Camelot (which same is Winchester), and the third at Carleon upon the Usk; and from these three volumes the story of the Grail has descended to us of the present day, and so I have written a part of that for your delectation.

It remaineth now only to be said that Sir Bors, after all these events, returned to that lady whom he had quitted to search for the Grail. But the happiness of earth was not to be his, for he found that she had wearied of waiting for his return, and had married elsewhere. So Sir Bors returned to Camelot, and there he abided until the time of that quarrel that preceded the ending of the reign of King Arthur.

For wit ye that he who aims high will often miss the small joys of this life, and so it was with Sir Bors de Ganis. For though he was one of those who achieved the Grail, yet he missed the lesser joys of wedded life, and of that kingdom which belonged to them.

* * * * *

Thus hath been told to you the famous history of the recovery of the Grail and of its translation into Paradise. And this was the crowning glory of the reign of King Arthur. For after these circumstances had happened, as herein told of, there came dissensions and battles amongst those knights--knight against knight--until the famous Round Table of King Arthur was severed and shattered, never to be reunited again.

But of that more anon, for it is hereinafter to be told of. So now I pray you for to read that which followeth if you would learn the ending of all these things.