Chapter 27

Then the King took Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere apart privately into his tent, and bade them secretly get ready their horses and armor, and his own, for it was his intention that night, after evensong, to set out on a pilgrimage to St. Michael's Mount with them, and nobody besides them was to accompany him. So when evening came, the King, and Sir Kay, and Sir Bedivere armed themselves, and taking their horses, rode as fast as they could to the foot of St. Michael's Mount. There the King alighted and bade his knights stay where they were, while he himself ascended the mount.

He went up the hillside till he came to a huge fire. Close to it was a newly made grave, by which was sitting a sorrowful widow wringing her hands and making great lamentation. King Arthur saluted her courteously, and asked for whom she was weeping. She prayed him to speak softly, for "Yonder," said she, "is a monstrous giant that will come and destroy you should your voice reach his ears. Luckless wretch, what brings you to this mountain?" asked the widow. "Fifty such knights as you could not hold their ground against the monster."

"Lady," he replied, "the mighty conqueror King Arthur has sent me as his ambassador to this giant, to inquire why he ventures thus to misuse and maltreat the people of the land."

"A useless embassy in very truth!" she said. "Little does he care for King Arthur, or for any other man. Not many days have passed since he murdered the fairest lady in the world, the wife of Sir Howel of Little Britain; and had you brought with you King Arthur's own wife, Queen Guinevere, he would not be afraid to murder her. Yet, if you must needs speak with him, you will find him yonder over the crest of the hill."

"This is a fearful warning you give me," said the King. "Yet none the less, believe me, will I accomplish the task that has been allotted me."

Having climbed up to the crest of the hill, King Arthur looked down, and close below him he saw the giant basking at his ease by the side of a great fire.

"Thou villain!" cried the King--"thou villain! short shall be thy life and shameful shall be thy death. Rise and defend yourself. My sword shall avenge that fair duchess whom you murdered."

Starting from the ground, the giant snatched up his great iron club, and aiming a swinging blow at King Arthur's head, swept the crest off his helmet. Then the King flew at him, and they wrestled and wrestled till they fell, and as they struggled on the ground King Arthur again and again smote the giant with his dagger, and they rolled and tumbled down the hill till they reached the sea-beach at its foot, where Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere were waiting their lord's return. Rushing to his aid, the two knights at once set their master free, for they found that the giant, in whose arms he was locked, was already dead.

Then King Arthur sent Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere up the hill to fetch the sword and shield that he had let fall and left there, and also the giant's iron club and cloak, and he told them they might keep whatever treasure they found in his den, for he desired nothing besides the club and the cloak. So they went and did as they were bidden, and brought away as much treasure as they desired.

When the news of the oppressor's death was spread abroad, the people came in throngs to thank the King, who had delivered them; but he bade them rather give thanks to Heaven. Then, having distributed among them the treasure his knights had not needed, and having commanded Sir Howel to build upon the hill which the giant had haunted a chapel in honor of St. Michael, he returned to his army, and led it into the country of Champagne, where he pitched his camp in a valley.

That evening two men, of whom one was the Marshal of France, came into the pavilion where King Arthur sat at table. They brought news that the Emperor was in Burgundy, burning and sacking towns and villages, so that, unless King Arthur came quickly to their succor, the men of those parts would be forced to surrender themselves and their goods to Rome.

Hearing this, King Arthur summoned four of his knights--Sir Gawaine, Sir Bors, Sir Lionel, and Sir Badouine--and ordered them to go with all speed to the Emperor's camp, and all upon him either to leave the land at once or make ready for battle, since King Arthur would not suffer the people to be harried any longer. These four knights, accordingly, rode off with their followers, and before very long they came to a meadow, where, pitched by the side of a stream, they saw many stately tents, and in the middle of them one which, it was plain, must be the Emperor's, for above it floated a banner on which was an eagle.

Then they halted and took counsel what it would be best to do, and it was agreed that the rest of the party should remain in ambush in the wood while Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors delivered the message they brought. Having heard it, the Emperor Lucius said they had better return and advise King Arthur to make preparations for being subdued by Rome and losing all his possessions. To this taunt Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors made angry replies, whereupon Sir Gainus, a knight who was near of kin to the Emperor, laughed, and said that British knights behaved as if the whole world rested on their shoulders. Sir Gawaine was infuriated beyond all measure by these words, and he and Sir Bors fled as fast as their horses could put legs to the ground, dashing headlong through woods and across streams, till they came to the spot where they had left their comrades in ambush.

The Romans followed in hot pursuit, and pressed them hard all the way. One knight, indeed, had almost overtaken them, when Sir Bors turned and ran him through with his spear. Then Sir Lionel and Sir Badouine came to their assistance, and there was a great and fierce encounter, and such was the bravery of the British that they routed the Romans and chased them right up to their tents. There the enemy made a stand, and Sir Bors was taken prisoner; but Sir Gawaine, drawing his good sword, vowed that he would either rescue his comrade or never look King Arthur in the face again, and falling upon the men that had captured Sir Bors, he delivered him out of their hands.

Then the fight waxed hotter and hotter, and the British knights were in such jeopardy that Sir Gawaine dispatched a messenger to bring him help as quickly as it could be sent, for he was wounded and sorely hurt. King Arthur, having received the message, instantly mustered his army; but before he could set out, into the camp rode Sir Gawaine and his companions, bringing with them many prisoners. And the only one of the band who had suffered any hurt was Sir Gawaine, whom the king consoled as best he could, bidding his surgeon at once attend to his wounds.

Thus ended the first battle between the Britons and the Romans. That night there was great rejoicing in the camp of King Arthur; and on the next day all the prisoners were sent to Paris, with Sir Launcelot du Lake and Sir Cador, and many other knights to guard them. On the way, passing through a wood, they were beset by a force the Emperor Lucius had placed there in ambush. Then Sir Launcelot, though the enemy had six men for every one he had with him, fought with such fury that no one could stand up against him; and at last, in dread of his prowess and might, the Romans and their allies the Saracens turned and fled as though they had been sheep and Sir Launcelot a wolf or a lion. But the skirmish had lasted so long that tidings of it had reached King Arthur, who arrayed himself and hurried to the aid of his knights. Finding them already victorious, he embraced them one by one, saying that they were indeed worthy of whatever honors had been granted them in the past, and that no other king had ever had such noble knights as he had.

To this Sir Cador answered that they might one and all claim at least the merit of not having deserted their posts, but that the honor of the day belonged to Sir Launcelot, for it passed man's wit to describe all the feats of arms he had performed. Then Sir Cador told the King that certain of his knights were slain, and who they were, whereupon King Arthur wept bitterly.

"Truly," he said, "your valor nearly was the destruction of you all. Yet you would not have been disgraced in my eyes had you retreated. To me it seems a rash and foolhardy thing for knights to stand their ground when they find themselves overmatched."

"Nay," replied Sir Launcelot, "I think otherwise; for a knight who has once been put to shame may never recover the honor he has forfeited."

There was among the Romans who escaped from that battle a senator. He went to the Emperor Lucius and said, "Sir, my advice is that you withdraw your army, for this day has proved that grievous blows are all we shall win here. There is not one of King Arthur's knights that has not proved himself worth a hundred of ours."

"Alas," cried Lucius, "that is coward's talk and to hear it grieves me more than all the losses I have sustained this day."

Then he ordered one of his most trusty allies to take a great force and advance as fast as he possibly could, the Emperor himself intending to follow in all haste. Warning of this having been brought secretly to the British camp, King Arthur sent part of his forces to Sessoigne to occupy the towns and castles before the Romans could reach him. The rest he posted up and down the country, so as to cut off every way by which the enemy might escape.

Before long the Emperor entered the valley of Sessoigne, and found himself face to face with King Arthur's men, drawn up in battle array. Seeing that retreat was impossible--for he was hemmed in by his enemies, and had either to fight his way through them or surrender--he made an oration to his followers, praying them to quit themselves like men that day, and to remember that to allow the Britons to hold their ground would bring disgrace upon Rome, the mistress of the world.

Then, at the Emperor's command, his trumpeters sounded their trumpets so defiantly that the very earth trembled and shook; and the two hosts joined battle, rushing at one another with mighty shouts. Many knights fought nobly that day, but none more nobly than King Arthur. Riding up and down the battle-field, he exhorted his knights to bear themselves bravely; and wherever the fray was thickest, and his people most sorely pressed, he dashed to the rescue and hewed down the Romans with his good sword Excalibur. Among those he slew was a marvelous great giant called Galapus. First of all, King Arthur smote off this giant's legs by the knees, saying that made him a more convenient size to deal with, and then he smote off his head. Such was the hugeness of the body of Galapus, that, as it fell, it crushed six Saracens to death.

But though King Arthur fought thus fiercely, and Sir Gawaine and all the other knights of the Round Table did nobly, the host of their enemies was so great that it seemed as if the battle would never come to an end, the Britons having the advantage at one moment and the Romans at another.

Now, among the Romans, no man fought more bravely than the Emperor Lucius. King Arthur, spying the marvelous feats of arms he performed, rode up and challenged him to a single combat. They exchanged many a mighty blow, and at last Lucius struck King Arthur across the face, and inflicted a grievous wound. Feeling the smart of it, King Arthur dealt back such a stroke that his sword Excalibur clove the Emperor's helmet in half, and splitting his skull, passed right down to his breast-bone.

Thus Lucius, the Emperor of the Romans, lost his life; and when it was known that he was slain, his whole army turned and fled, and King Arthur and his knights chased them, slaying all they could overtake. Of the host that followed Lucius, more than a hundred thousand men fell that day.

King Arthur, after he had won the great battle in which the Emperor Lucius was slain, marched into Lorraine, and so on through Brabant and Flanders into Germany, and across the mountains into Lombardy, and thence into Tuscany, and at last came to Rome, and on Christmas Day he was crowned emperor by the Pope with great state and solemnity. And he stayed in Rome a little while, setting in order the affairs of his possession, and distributing among his knights posts of honor and dignity, and also great estates, as rewards for their services.

After these affairs had been duly arranged, all the British lords and knights assembled in the presence of the King, and said to him:

"Noble Emperor, now that, Heaven be thanked for it, this great war is over, and your enemies so utterly vanquished that henceforward, as we believe, no man, however great or mighty he may be, will dare to stand up against you, we beseech you to grant us leave to return to our wives and our homes, that there we may rest ourselves."

This request King Arthur granted, saying that it would be wise, seeing they had met with such good fortune so far, to be content with it and to return home. Also he gave orders that there should be no plundering or pillaging of the country through which they had to pass on their way back, but that they should, on pain of death, pay the full price for victuals or whatever else they took.

So King Arthur and his host set off from Rome and came over the sea and landed at Sandwich, where Queen Guinevere came to meet her lord. And at Sandwich and throughout the land there were great festivities, and noble gifts were presented to the King; for his people rejoiced mightily both because he had returned safely home, and because of the great victories he had achieved.

SIR GALAHAD AND THE SACRED CUP

ADAPTED BY MARY MACGREGOR

"My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure,"

sang Galahad gladly. He was only a boy, but he had just been made a knight by Sir Lancelot, and the old abbey, where he had lived all his life, rang with the echo of his song.

Sir Lancelot heard the boy's clear voice singing in triumph. As he stopped to listen, he caught the words,

"My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure,"

and the great knight wished he were a boy again, and could sing that song too.

Twelve nuns lived in the quiet abbey, and they had taught Galahad lovingly and carefully, ever since he had come to them as a beautiful little child. And the boy had dwelt happily with them there in the still old abbey, and he would be sorry to leave them, but he was a knight now. He would fight for the King he reverenced so greatly, and for the country he loved so well.

Yet when Sir Lancelot left the abbey the next day, Galahad did not go with him. He would stay in his old home a little longer, he thought. He would not grieve the nuns by a hurried farewell.

Sir Lancelot left the abbey alone, but as he rode along he met two knights, and together they reached Camelot, where the King was holding a great festival.

King Arthur welcomed Sir Lancelot and the two knights. "Now all the seats at our table will be filled," he said gladly. For it pleased the King when the circle of his knights was unbroken.

Then all the King's household went to service at the minster, and when they came back to the palace they saw a strange sight.

In the dining-hall the Round Table at which the King and his knights always sat seemed strangely bright.

The King looked more closely, and saw that at one place on this Round Table were large letters. And he read, "This is the seat of Sir Galahad, the Pure-hearted." But only Sir Lancelot knew that Sir Galahad was the boy-knight he had left behind him in the quiet old abbey.

"We will cover the letters till the Knight of the Pure Heart comes," said Sir Lancelot; and he took silk and laid it over the glittering letters.

Then as they sat down to table they were disturbed by Sir Kay, the steward of the King's kitchen.

"You do not sit down to eat at this festival," Sir Kay reminded the King, "till you have seen or heard some great adventure." And the King told his steward that the writing in gold had made him forget his usual custom.

As they waited a squire came hastily into the hall. "I have a strange tale to tell," he said. "As I walked along the bank of the river I saw a great stone, and it floated on the top of the water, and into the stone there has been thrust a sword."

Then the King and all his knights went down to the river, and they saw the stone, and it was like red marble. And the sword that had been thrust into the stone was strong and fair. The handle of it was studded with precious stones, and among the stones there were letters of gold.

The King stepped forward, and bending over the sword read these words: "No one shall take me away save him to whom I belong. I will hang only by the side of the best knight in the world."

The King turned to Sir Lancelot. "The sword is yours, for surely there lives no truer knight."

But Sir Lancelot answered gravely, "The sword is not mine. It will never hang by my side, for I dare not try to take it."

The King was sorry that his great knight's courage failed, but he turned to Sir Gawaine and asked him to try to take the sword.

And at first Sir Gawaine hesitated. But when he looked again at the precious stones that sparkled on the handle, he hesitated no longer. But he no sooner touched the sword than it wounded him, so that he could not use his arm for many days.

Then the King turned to Sir Percivale. And because Arthur wished it, Sir Percivale tried to take the sword; but he could not move it. And after that no other knight dared to touch the fair sword; so they turned and went back to the palace.

In the dining-hall the King and his knights sat down once more at the Round Table, and each knight knew his own chair. And all the seats were filled except the chair opposite the writing in gold.

It had been a day full of surprise, but now the most wonderful thing of all happened. For as they sat down, suddenly all the doors of the palace shut with a loud noise, but no one had touched the doors. And all the windows were softly closed, but no one saw the hands that closed them.

Then one of the doors opened, and there came in a very old man dressed all in white, and no one knew whence he came.

By his side was a young man in red armor. He had neither sword nor shield, but hanging by his side was an empty sheath.

There was a great silence in the hall as the old man said, slowly and solemnly, "I bring you the young knight Sir Galahad, who is descended from a king. He shall do many great deeds, and he shall see the Holy Grail."

"He shall see the Holy Grail," the knights repeated, with awe on their faces.

For far back, in the days of their boyhood, they had heard the story of the Holy Grail. It was the Sacred Cup out of which their Lord had drunk before He died.

And they had been told how sometimes it was seen carried by angels, and how at other times in a gleam of light. But in whatever way it appeared, it was seen only by those who were pure in heart.

And as the old man's words, "He shall see the Holy Grail," fell on their ears, the knights thought of the story they had heard so long ago, and they were sorry, for they had never seen the Sacred Cup, and they knew that it was unseen only by those who had done wrong.

But the old man was telling the boy-knight to follow him. He led him to the empty chair, and lifted the silk that covered the golden letters. "This is the seat of Sir Galahad, the Pure-hearted," he read aloud. And the young knight sat in the empty seat that belonged to him.

Then the old man left the palace, and twenty noble squires met him, and took him back to his own country.

When dinner was ended, the King went over to the chair where his boy-knight sat, and welcomed him to the circle of the Round Table. Afterwards he took Sir Galahad's hand, and led him out of the palace to show him the strange red stone that floated on the river. When Sir Galahad heard how the knights could not draw the sword out of the stone, he knew that this adventure was his.

"I will try to take the sword," said the boy-knight, "and place it in my sheath, for it is empty," and he pointed to his side. Then he laid his hand on the wonderful sword, and easily drew it out of the stone, and placed it in his sheath.

"God has sent you the sword, now He will send you a shield as well," said King Arthur.

Then the King proclaimed that the next day there would be a tournament in the meadows of Camelot. For before his knights went out to new adventures, he would see Sir Galahad proved.

And in the morning the meadows lay bright in the sunshine. And the boy-knight rode bravely to his first combat, and over-threw many men; but Sir Lancelot and Sir Percivale he could not overthrow.

When the tournament was over the King and his knights went home to supper, and each sat in his own seat at the Round Table.

All at once there was a loud crashing noise, a noise that was louder than any peal of thunder. Was the King's wonderful palace falling to pieces?

But while the noise still sounded a marvelous light stole into the room, a light brighter than any sunbeam.

As the knights looked at one another, each seemed to the other to have a new glory and a new beauty in his face.

And down the sunbeam glided the Holy Grail. It was the Sacred Cup they had all longed to see. But no one saw it, for it was invisible to all but the pure-hearted Sir Galahad.

As the strange light faded away, King Arthur heard his knights vowing that they would go in search of the Holy Grail, and never give up the quest till they had found it.

And the boy-knight knew that he too would go over land and sea, till he saw again the wonderful vision.

That night the King could not sleep, for his sorrow was great. His knights would wander into far-off countries, and many of them would forget that they were in search of the Holy Grail. Would they not have found the Sacred Cup one day if they had stayed with their King and helped to clear the country of its enemies?

In the morning the streets of Camelot were crowded with rich and poor. And the people wept as they watched the knights ride away on their strange quest. And the King wept too, for he knew that now there would be many empty chairs at the Round Table.

The knights rode together to a strange city and stayed there all night. The next day they separated, each going a different way.

Sir Galahad rode on for four days without adventure. At last he came to a white abbey, where he was received very kindly. And he found two knights there, and one was a king.

"What adventure has brought you here?" asked the boy-knight.

Then they told him that in this abbey there was a shield. And if any man tried to carry it, he was either wounded or dead within three days.

"But to-morrow I shall try to bear it," said the king.

"In the name of God, let me take the shield," said Sir Galahad gravely.

"If I fail, you shall try to bear it," said the king. And Galahad was glad, for he had still no shield of his own.

Then a monk took the king and the young knight behind the altar, and showed them where the shield hung. It was as white as snow, but in the middle there was a red cross.

"The shield can be borne only by the worthiest knight in the world," the monk warned the king.

"I will try to bear it, though I am no worthy knight," insisted the king; and he took the shield and rode down into the valley.

And Galahad waited at the abbey, for the king had said he would send his squire to tell the young knight how the shield had protected him.

For two miles the king rode through the valley, till he reached a hermitage. And he saw a warrior there, dressed in white armor, and sitting on a white horse.

The warrior rode quickly towards the king, and struck him so hard that he broke his armor. Then he thrust his spear through the king's right shoulder, as though he held no shield.