Le Morte Darthur
path, but as wild adventure led him. And at the last he came to a stony
cross, which departed two ways in waste land, and by the cross was a
stone that was of marble, but it was so dark that Sir Launcelot might
not wit what it was. Then Sir Launcelot looked by him, and saw an old
chapel, and there he wend to have found people. And Sir Launcelot tied
his horse till a tree, and there he did off his shield, and hung it
upon a tree. And then he went to the chapel door, and found it waste
and broken. And within he found a fair altar full richly arrayed with
cloth of clean silk, and there stood a fair clean candlestick which
bare six great candles, and the candlestick was of silver. And when Sir
Launcelot saw this light, he had great will for to enter into the
chapel, but he could find no place where he might enter: then was he
passing heavy and dismayed. Then he returned and came to his horse, and
did off his saddle and bridle, and let him pasture; and unlaced his
helm, and ungirded his sword, and laid him down to sleep upon his
shield tofore the cross.
CHAP. XVIII.
_How Sir Launcelot, half sleeping and half waking, saw a sick man borne
in a litter, and how he was healed with the Sangreal._
And so he fell on sleep, and half waking and half sleeping he saw come
by him two palfreys all fair and white, the which bare a litter,
therein lying a sick knight. And when he was nigh the cross, he there
abode still. All this Sir Launcelot saw and beheld, for he slept not
verily; and he heard him say, Oh, sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow
leave me? and when shall the holy vessel come by me where through I
shall be blessed? For I have endured thus long for little trespass. A
full great while complained the knight thus, and always Sir Launcelot
heard it. With that Sir Launcelot saw the candlestick with the six
tapers come before the cross, and he saw nobody that brought it. Also
there came a table of silver, and the holy vessel of the Sancgreal,
which Sir Launcelot had seen aforetime in king Peschour’s house. And
therewith the sick knight set him up, and held up both his hands, and
said, Fair sweet Lord, which is here within this holy vessel, take heed
unto me, that I may be whole of this malady. And therewith on his hands
and on his knees he went so nigh that he touched the holy vessel, and
kissed it, and anon he was whole, and then he said, Lord God I thank
thee, for I am healed of this sickness. So when the holy vessel had
been there a great while it went unto the chapel, with the chandelier
and the light, so that Launcelot wist not where it was become, for he
was overtaken with sin that he had no power to arise against the holy
vessel; wherefore after that many men said of him shame, but he took
repentance after that. Then the sick knight dressed him up, and kissed
the cross. Anon his squire brought him his arms, and asked his lord how
he did? Certes, said he, I thank God right well, through the holy
vessel I am healed. But I have great marvel of this sleeping knight,
that had no power to awake when this holy vessel was brought hither. I
dare right well say, said the squire, that he dwelleth in some deadly
sin, whereof he was never confessed. By my faith, said the knight,
whatsoever he be he is unhappy, for as I deem he is of the fellowship
of the Round Table, the which is entered into the quest of the
Sancgreal. Sir, said the squire, here I have brought you all your arms,
save your helm and your sword, and therefore by my assent now may ye
take this knight’s helm and his sword. And so he did. And when he was
clean armed he took Sir Launcelot’s horse, for he was better than his
own: and so departed they from the cross.
CHAP. XIX.
_How a voice spake to Sir Launcelot, and how he found his horse and his
helm borne away, and after went afoot._
Then anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set him up, and bethought him what
he had seen there, and whether it were dreams or not. Right so heard he
a voice that said, Sir Launcelot, more harder than is the stone, and
more bitter than is the wood, and more naked and barer than is the leaf
of the fig-tree, therefore go thou from hence and withdraw thee from
this holy place. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he was passing
heavy, and wist not what to do, and so departed, sore weeping, and
cursed the time that he was born. For then he deemed never to have had
worship more. For those words went to his heart, till that he knew
wherefore he was called so. Then Sir Launcelot went to the cross, and
found his helm, his sword, and his horse, taken away. And then he
called himself a very wretch, and most unhappy of all knights: and
there he said, My sin and my wickedness have brought me unto great
dishonour. For when I sought worldly adventures for worldly desires I
ever achieved them, and had the better in every place, and never was I
discomfit in no quarrel, were it right or wrong. And now I take upon me
the adventures of holy things, and now I see and understand that mine
old sin hindereth me, and shameth me, so that I had no power to stir
nor to speak when the holy blood appeared afore me. So thus he sorrowed
till it was day, and heard the fowls sing: then somewhat he was
comforted. But when Sir Launcelot missed his horse and his harness,
then he wist well God was displeased with him. Then he departed from
the cross on foot into a forest. And so by prime he came to an high
hill, and found an hermitage, and an hermit therein, which was going
unto mass. And then Launcelot kneeled down and cried on our Lord mercy
for his wicked works. So when mass was done, Launcelot called him, and
prayed him for charity for to hear his life. With a good will, said the
good man. Sir, said he, be ye of king Arthur’s court, and of the
fellowship of the Round Table? Yea forsooth, and my name is Sir
Launcelot du Lake, that hath been right well said of, and now my good
fortune is changed, for I am the most wretch of the world. The hermit
beheld him, and had marvel how he was so abashed. Sir, said the hermit,
ye ought to thank God more than any knight living; for He hath caused
you to have more worldly worship than any knight that now liveth. And
for your presumption to take upon you in deadly sin for to be in His
presence, where His flesh and His blood was, that caused you ye might
not see it with worldly eyes, for He will not appear where such sinners
be, but if it be unto their great hurt, and unto their great shame. And
there is no knight living now that ought to give God so great thanks as
ye; for He hath given you beauty, seemliness, and great strength, above
all other knights, and therefore ye are the more beholding unto God
than any other man to love Him and dread Him; for your strength and
manhood will little avail you and God be against you.
CHAP. XX.
_How Sir Launcelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made; and of the
good ensamples which were shewed him._
Then Sir Launcelot wept with heavy cheer, and said, Now I know well ye
say me sooth. Sir, said the good man, hide none old sin from me. Truly,
said Sir Launcelot, that were me full loth to discover. For this
fourteen years I never discovered one thing that I have used, and that
may I now blame my shame and my misadventure. And then he told there
that good man all his life, and how he had loved a queen unmeasurably,
and out of measure long;—and all my great deeds of arms that I have
done, I did the most part for the queen’s sake, and for her sake would
I do battle were it right or wrong, and never did I battle all only for
God’s sake, but for to win worship, and to cause me to be the better
beloved, and little or nought I thanked God of it. Then Sir Launcelot
said, I pray you counsel me. I will counsel you, said the hermit, if ye
will ensure me that ye will never come in that queen’s fellowship, as
much as ye may forbear. And then Sir Launcelot promised him he would
not, by the faith of his body. Look that your heart and your mouth
accord, said the good man, and I shall ensure you ye shall have more
worship than ever ye had. Holy father, said Sir Launcelot, I marvel of
the voice that said to me marvellous words, as ye have heard
toforehand. Have ye no marvel, said the good man, thereof; for it
seemeth well God loveth you; for men may understand a stone is hard of
kind, and namely one more than another, and that is to understand by
thee Sir Launcelot, for thou wilt not leave thy sin for no goodness
that God hath sent thee, therefore thou art more than any stone, and
never wouldest thou be made soft nor by water nor by fire, and that is,
the heat of the Holy Ghost may not enter in thee. Now take heed; in all
the world men shall not find one knight to whom our Lord hath given so
much of grace as He hath given you: for He hath given you fairness with
seemliness: He hath given thee wit, discretion to know good from evil:
He hath given thee prowess and hardiness; and given thee to work so
largely that thou hast had at all days the better wheresoever thou
camest. And now our Lord will suffer thee no longer, but that thou
shalt know Him, whether thou wilt or nilt. And why the voice called
thee bitterer than wood, for where overmuch sin dwelleth, there may be
but little sweetness, wherefore thou art likened to an old rotten tree.
Now have I shewed thee why thou art harder than the stone, and bitterer
than the tree. Now shall I shew thee why thou art more naked and barer
than the fig-tree. It befell that our Lord on Palm-Sunday preached in
Jerusalem, and there He found in the people that all hardness was
harboured in them, and there He found in all the town not one that
would harbour Him. And then He went without the town, and found in the
midst of the way a fig-tree, the which was right fair and well
garnished of leaves, but fruit had it none. Then our Lord cursed the
tree that bare no fruit; that betokeneth the fig-tree unto Jerusalem,
that had leaves and no fruit. So thou, Sir Launcelot, when the holy
Graile was brought afore thee, He found in thee no fruit, nor good
thought nor good will, and defouled with lechery. Certes, said Sir
Launcelot, all that ye have said is true, and from henceforward I cast
me by the grace of God never to be so wicked as I have been, but as to
follow knighthood, and to do feats of arms. Then the good man enjoined
Sir Launcelot such penance as he might do, and to sue knighthood, and
so he assoiled him and prayed Sir Launcelot to abide with him all that
day. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for I have neither helm, nor
horse, nor sword. As for that, said the good man, I shall help you or
to-morn at even of an horse, and all that longeth unto you. And then
Sir Launcelot repented him greatly.
Here leueth of the history of syr launcelot. And here foloweth of syr
Percyuale de galys which is the xiiii. book.
The Fourteenth Book.
CHAP. I.
_How Sir Percivale came to a recluse, and asked counsel; and how she
told him that she was his aunt._
Now saith the tale, that when Sir Launcelot was ridden after Sir
Galahad, the which had all these adventures above said, Sir Percivale
turned again unto the recluse, where he deemed to have tidings of that
knight that Launcelot followed. And so he kneeled at her window, and
the recluse opened it, and asked Sir Percivale what he would? Madam, he
said, I am a knight of king Arthur’s court, and my name is Sir
Percivale de Galis. When the recluse heard his name, she had great joy
of him, for mickle she had loved him tofore any other knight, for she
ought to do so, for she was his aunt. And then she commanded the gates
to be opened, and there he had all the cheer that she might make him,