King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
mysteries are revealed. The hart ye saw is One above all men, white and
without blemish, and the four lions with Him are the four evangelists."
When they heard that they heartily rejoiced, and thanking the priest,
departed.
Anon, as they passed by a certain castle, an armed knight suddenly came
after them, and cried out to the damsel, "By the holy cross, ye shall
not go till ye have yielded to the custom of the castle."
"Let her go," said Sir Percival, "for a maiden, wheresoever she cometh,
is free."
"Whatever maiden passeth here," replied the knight, "must give a dishful
of her blood from her right arm."
"It is a foul and shameful custom," cried Sir Galahad and both his
fellows, "and sooner will we die than let this maiden yield thereto."
"Then shall ye die," replied the knight, and as he spake there came out
from a gate hard by, ten or twelve more, and encountered with them,
running upon them vehemently with a great cry. But the three knights
withstood them, and set their hands to their swords, and beat them down
and slew them.
At that came forth a company of threescore knights, all armed. "Fair
lords," said Sir Galahad, "have mercy on yourselves and keep from us."
"Nay, fair lords," they answered, "rather be advised by us, and yield ye
to our custom."
"It is an idle word," said Galahad, "in vain ye speak it."
"Well," said they, "will ye die?"
"We be not come thereto as yet," replied Sir Galahad.
Then did they fall upon each other, and Sir Galahad drew forth his
sword, and smote on the right hand and on the left, and slew so mightily
that all who saw him thought he was a monster and no earthly man. And
both his comrades helped him well, and so they held the field against
that multitude till it was night. Then came a good knight forward from
the enemy and said, "Fair knights, abide with us to-night and be right
welcome; by the faith of our bodies as we are true knights, to-morrow ye
shall rise unharmed, and meanwhile maybe ye will, of your own accord,
accept the custom of the castle when ye know it better."
So they entered and alighted and made great cheer. Anon, they asked them
whence that custom came. "The lady of this castle is a leper," said
they, "and can be no way cured save by the blood of a pure virgin and a
king's daughter; therefore to save her life are we her servants bound to
stay every maid that passeth by, and try if her blood may not cure our
mistress."
Then said the damsel, "Take ye of my blood as much as ye will, if it may
avail your lady."
And though the three knights urged her not to put her life in that great
peril, she replied, "If I die to heal another's body, I shall get health
to my soul," and would not be persuaded to refuse.
So on the morrow she was brought to the sick lady, and her arm was
bared, and a vein thereof was opened, and the dish filled with her
blood. Then the sick lady was anointed therewith, and anon she was whole
of her malady. With that Sir Percival's sister lifted up her hand and
blessed her, saying, "Madam, I am come to my death to make you whole;
for God's love pray for me"; and thus saying she fell down in a swoon.
Then Sir Galahad, Sir Percival, and Sir Bors started to lift her up and
staunch her blood, but she had lost too much to live. So when she came
to herself she said to Sir Percival, "Fair brother, I must die for the
healing of this lady, and now, I pray thee, bury me not here, but when I
am dead put me in a boat at the next haven and let me float at venture
on the sea. And when ye come to the city of Sarras, to achieve the
Sangreal, shall ye find me waiting by a tower, and there I pray thee
bury me, for there shall Sir Galahad and ye also be laid." Thus having
said, she died.
Then Sir Percival wrote all the story of her life and put it in her
right hand, and so laid her in a barge and covered it with silk. And
the wind arising drove the barge from land, and all the knights stood
watching it till it was out of sight.
Anon they returned to the castle, and forthwith fell a sudden tempest of
thunder and lightning and rain, as if the earth were broken up: and half
the castle was thrown down. Then came a voice to the three knights which
said, "Depart ye now asunder till ye meet again where the maimed king is
lying." So they parted and rode divers ways.
Now after Sir Lancelot had left the hermit, he rode a long while till he
knew not whither to turn, and so he lay down to sleep, if haply he might
dream whither to go.
And in his sleep a vision came to him saying, "Lancelot, rise up and
take thine armor, and enter the first ship that thou shalt find."
When he awoke he obeyed the vision, and rode till he came to the
sea-shore, and found there a ship without sails or oars, and as soon as
he was in it he smelt the sweetest savor he had ever known, and seemed
filled with all things he could think of or desire. And looking round he
saw a fair bed, and thereon a gentlewoman lying dead, who was Sir
Percival's sister. And as Sir Lancelot looked on her he spied the
writing in her right hand, and, taking it, he read therein her story.
And more than a month thereafter he abode in that ship and was nourished
by the grace of Heaven, as Israel was fed with manna in the desert.
And on a certain night he went ashore to pass the time, for he was
somewhat weary, and, listening, he heard a horse come towards him, from
which a knight alighted and went up into the ship; who, when he saw Sir
Lancelot, said, "Fair sir, ye be right welcome to mine eyes, for I am
thy son Galahad, and long time I have sought for thee." With that he
kneeled and asked his blessing, and took off his helm and kissed him,
and the great joy there was between them no tongue can tell.
Then for half a year they dwelt together in the ship, and served God
night and day with all their powers, and went to many unknown islands,
where none but wild beasts haunted, and there found many strange and
perilous adventures.
And upon a time they came to the edge of a forest, before a cross of
stone, and saw a knight armed all in white, leading a white horse. Then
the knight saluted them, and said to Galahad, "Ye have been long time
enough with your father; now, therefore, leave him and ride this horse
till ye achieve the Holy Quest."
Then went Sir Galahad to his father and kissed him full courteously, and
said, "Fair father, I know not when I shall see thee again."
And as he took his horse a voice spake in their hearing, "Ye shall meet
no more in this life."
"Now, my son, Sir Galahad," said Sir Lancelot, "since we must so part
and see each other never more, I pray the High Father of Heaven to
preserve both you and me."
Then they bade farewell, and Sir Galahad entered the forest, and Sir
Lancelot returned to the ship, and the wind rose and drove him more than
a month through the sea, whereby he slept but little, yet ever prayed
that he might see the Sangreal.
So it befell upon a certain midnight, the moon shining clear, he came
before a fair and rich castle, whereof the postern gate was open towards
the sea, having no keeper save two lions in the entry.
Anon Sir Lancelot heard a voice: "Leave now thy ship and go within the
castle, and thou shalt see a part of thy desire."
Then he armed and went towards the gate, and coming to the lions he drew
out his sword, but suddenly a dwarf rushed out and smote him on the arm,
so that he dropt his sword, and heard again the voice, "Oh, man of evil
faith, and poor belief, wherefore trustest thou thine arms above thy
Maker?" Then he put up his sword and signed the cross upon his forehead,
and so passed by the lions without hurt.
And going in, he found a chamber with the door shut, which in vain he
tried to open. And listening thereat he heard a voice within, which sang
so sweetly that it seemed no earthly thing, "Joy and honor be to the
Father of Heaven!" Then he kneeled down at the door, for he knew well
the Sangreal was there within.
Anon the door was opened without hands, and forthwith came thereout so
great a splendor as if all the torches of the world had been alight
together. But when he would have entered in, a voice forbade him;
wherefore he drew back, and looked, standing upon the threshold of the
door. And there he saw a table of silver, and the holy vessel covered
with red samite, and many angels round it holding burning candles and a
cross and all the ornaments of the altar.
Then a priest stood up and offered mass, and when he took the vessel up,
he seemed to sink beneath that burden. At that Sir Lancelot cried, "O
Father, take it not for sin that I go in to help the priest, who hath
much need thereof." So saying, he went in, but when he came towards the
table he felt a breath of fire which issued out therefrom and smote him
to the ground, so that he had no power to rise.
Then felt he many hands about him, which took him up and laid him down
outside the chapel door. There lay he in a swoon all through that night,
and on the morrow certain people found him senseless, and bore him to an
inner chamber and laid him on a bed. And there he rested, living, but
moving no limbs, twenty-four days and nights.
On the twenty-fifth day he opened his eyes and saw those standing round,
and said, "Why have ye waked me? for I have seen marvels that no tongue
can tell, and more than any heart can think."
Then he asked where he was, and they told him, "In the Castle of
Carbonek."
"Tell your lord, King Pelles," said he, "that I am Sir Lancelot."
At that they marveled greatly, and told their lord it was Sir Lancelot
who had lain there so long.
Then was King Pelles wondrous glad and went to see him, and prayed him
to abide there for a season. But Sir Lancelot said, "I know well that I
have now seen as much as mine eyes may behold of the Sangreal; wherefore
I will return to my own country." So he took leave of King Pelles, and
departed towards Logris.
Now after Sir Galahad had parted from Sir Lancelot, he rode many days,
till he came to the monastery where the blind King Evelake lay, whom Sir
Percival had seen. And on the morrow, when he had heard mass, Sir
Galahad desired to see the king, who cried out, "Welcome, Sir Galahad,
servant of the Lord! long have I abided thy coming. Take me now in thine
arms, that I may die in peace."
At that Sir Galahad embraced him; and when he had so done the king's
eyes were opened, and he said, "Fair Lord Jesus, suffer me now to come
to Thee"; and anon his soul departed.
Then they buried him royally, as a king should be; and Sir Galahad went
on his way.
Within a while he came to a chapel in a forest, in the crypt whereof he
saw a tomb which always blazed and burnt. And asking the brethren what
that might mean, they told him, "Joseph of Arimathea's son did found
this monastery, and one who wronged him hath lain here these three
hundred and fifty years and burneth evermore, until that perfect knight
who shall achieve the Sangreal doth quench the fire."
Then said he, "I pray ye bring me to the tomb."
And when he touched the place immediately the fire was quenched, and a
voice came from the grave and cried, "Thanks be to God, who now hath
purged me of my sin, and draweth me from earthly pains into the joys of
paradise."
Then Sir Galahad took the body in his arms and bore it to the abbey, and
on the morrow put it in the earth before the high altar.
Anon he departed from thence and rode five days in a great forest; and
after that he met Sir Percival, and a little further on Sir Bors. When
they had told each other their adventures, they rode together to the
Castle of Carbonek: and there King Pelles gave them hearty welcome, for
he knew they should achieve the Holy Quest.
As soon as they were come into the castle, a voice cried in the midst of