Le Morte Darthur
there, by adventure, he met with the same knight that took his horse,
his helm, and his sword, when he slept when the Sancgreal appeared
afore the cross. When Sir Launcelot saw him he saluted him not fair,
but cried on high, Knight, keep thee, for thou hast done to me great
unkindness. And then they put afore them their spears, and Sir
Launcelot came so fiercely upon him that he smote him and his horse
down to the earth, that he had nigh broken his neck. Then Sir Launcelot
took the knight’s horse, that was his own aforehand, and descended from
the horse he sat upon, and tied the knight’s own horse to a tree, that
he might find that horse when that he was arisen.
Then Sir Launcelot rode till night, and by adventure he met an hermit,
and each of them saluted other, and there he rested with that good man
all night, and gave his horse such as he might get. Then said the good
man unto Launcelot, Of whence be ye? Sir, said he, I am of Arthur’s
court, and my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, that am in the quest of
the Sancgreal. And therefore I pray you to counsel me of a vision, the
which I had at the cross. And so he told him all.
CHAP. IV.
_How the hermit expounded to Sir Launcelot his vision, and told him
that Sir Galahad was his son._
Lo, Sir Launcelot, said the good man, there thou mightest understand
the high lineage that thou art come of, and thy vision betokeneth:
After the passion of Jesu Christ forty years, Joseph of Aramathie
preached the victory of king Evelake, that he had in the battles the
better of his enemies. And of the seven kings and the two knights: the
first of them is called Nappus, an holy man; and the second hight
Nacien, in remembrance of his grandsire, and in him dwelled our Lord
Jesu Christ; and the third was called Hellias le Grose; and the fourth
hight Lisais; and the fifth hight Jonas, he departed out of his country
and went into Wales, and took the daughter of Manuel, whereby he had
the land of Gaul, and he came to dwell in this country, and of him came
king Launcelot thy grandsire, which there wedded the king’s daughter of
Ireland, and he was as worthy a man as thou art, and of him came king
Ban thy father, the which was the last of the seven kings. And by thee,
Sir Launcelot, it signifieth that the angels said thou were none of the
seven fellowships. And the last was the ninth knight, he was signified
to a lion, for he should pass all manner of earthly knights, that is
Sir Galahad, the which thou gat of king Pelles’ daughter, and thou
ought to thank God more than any other man living; for of a sinner
earthly thou hast no peer as in knighthood, nor never shall be. But
little thank hast thou given to God for all the great virtues that God
hath lent thee.
Sir, said Launcelot, ye say that that good knight is my son. That
oughtest thou to know, and no man better, said the good man, for by the
daughter of king Pelles thou hadst Galahad, and that was he that at the
feast of Pentecost sat in the siege perilous, and therefore make thou
it known openly that he is thy son, for that will be your worship and
honour, and to all thy kindred. And I counsel you in no place press not
upon him to have ado with him. Well, said Launcelot, me seemeth that
good knight should pray for me unto the high Father that I fall not to
sin again. Trust thou well, said the good man, thou farest much the
better for his prayer; but the son shall not bear the wickedness of the
father, nor the father shall not bear the wickedness of the son, but
every each shall bear his own burthen; and therefore beseek thou only
God, and he will help thee in all thy needs. And then Sir Launcelot and
he went to supper, and so laid him to rest, and the hair pricked so Sir
Launcelot’s skin, which grieved him full sore, but he took it meekly,
and suffered the pain. And so on the morn he heard his mass, and took
his arms, and so took his leave.
CHAP. V.
_How Sir Launcelot justed with many knights, and how he was taken._
And then he mounted upon his horse and rode into a forest, and held no
highway. And as he looked afore him he saw a fair plain, and beside
that a fair castle, and afore the castle were many pavilions of silk
and of divers hue. And him seemed that he saw there five hundred
knights riding on horseback, and there were two parties; they that were
of the castle were all on black horses, and their trappings black. And
they that were without were all on white horses and trappings: and
every each hurtled to other, that it marvelled Sir Launcelot. And at
the last him thought they of the castle were put to the worse. Then
thought Sir Launcelot for to help there the weaker party, in increasing
of his chivalry. And so Sir Launcelot thrust in among the party of the
castle, and smote down a knight, horse and man, to the earth. And then
he rashed here and there, and did marvellous deeds of arms. And then he
drew out his sword and strake many knights to the earth, so that all
those that saw him marvelled that ever one knight might do so great
deeds of arms. But always the white knights held them nigh about Sir
Launcelot, for to tire him and wind him.
But at the last, as a man may not ever endure, Sir Launcelot waxed so
faint of fighting and travailing, and was so weary of his great deeds,
that he might not lift up his arms for to give one stroke, so that he
wend never to have borne arms: and then they all took him and led him
away into a forest, and there made him to alight and to rest him. And
then all the fellowship of the castle were overcome for the default of
him, and then they said all unto Sir Launcelot, Blessed be God that ye
be now of our fellowship, for we shall hold you in our prison. And so
they left him with few words. And then Sir Launcelot made great
sorrow,—For never or now was I never at tournament nor justs but I had
the best, and now I am shamed. And then he said, Now I am sure that I
am more sinfuller than ever I was. Thus he rode sorrowing, and half a
day was he out of despair, till that he came into a deep valley, and
when Sir Launcelot saw he might not ride up into the mountain, he there
alight under an apple-tree, and there he left his helm and his shield,
and put his horse unto pasture. And then he laid him down to sleep. And
then him thought there came an old man afore him, the which said, Ah,
Launcelot, of evil faith and poor belief, wherefore is thy will turned
so lightly towards thy deadly sin? And when he had said thus he
vanished away, and Launcelot wist not where he was become. Then he took
his horse, and armed him. And as he rode by the way he saw a chapel,
where was a recluse, which had a window that she might see up to the
altar. And all aloud she called Launcelot, for that he seemed a knight
errant. And then he came, and she asked him what he was, and of what
place, and where about he went to seek.
CHAP. VI.
_How Sir Launcelot told his vision unto a woman, and how she expounded
it to him._
And then he told her altogether word by word, and the truth how it
befel him at the tournament. And after told her his vision, that he had
had that night in his sleep, and prayed her to tell him what it might
mean, for he was not well content with it. Ah, Launcelot, said she, as
long as ye were knight of earthly knighthood, ye were the most
marvellous man of the world, and most adventurous. Now, said the lady,
since ye be set among the knights of heavenly adventures, if adventure
fell the contrary at that tournament, have thou no marvel; for that
tournament yesterday was but a tokening of our Lord. And not for then
there was none enchantment, for they at the tournament were earthly
knights. The tournament was a token for to see who should have most
knights, either Eliazar the son of king Pelles, or Argustus the son of
king Harlon; but Eliazar was all clothed in white, and Argustus was
covered in black, the which were come. All what this betokeneth I shall
tell you. The day of Pentecost, when king Arthur held his court, it
befell that earthly kings and knights took a tournament together, that
is to say, the quest of the Sancgreal. The earthly knights were they,
the which were clothed all in black, and the covering betokeneth the
sins whereof they be not confessed. And they with the covering of white
betokeneth virginity, and they that chosen chastity. And thus was the
quest begun in them. Then thou beheld the sinners and the good men, and
when thou sawest the sinners overcome, thou inclinedst to that party,
for boasting and pride of the world, and all that must be left in that
quest. For in this quest thou shalt have many fellows and thy betters,
for thou art so feeble of evil trust and good belief, this made it when
thou were there where they took thee, and led thee into the forest. And
anon there appeared the Sancgreal unto the white knights, but thou was
so feeble of good belief and faith, that thou might not abide it, for
all the teaching of the good man, but anon thou turnedst unto the
sinners; and that caused thy misadventure, that thou shouldest know
good from evil and vain glory of the world, the which is not worth a
pear. And for great pride thou madest great sorrow that thou hadst not
overcome all the white knights with the covering of white, by whom was
betokened virginity and chastity, and therefore God was wroth with you,
for God loveth no such deeds in this quest; and this vision signifieth
that thou were of evil faith and of poor belief, the which will make
thee to fall into the deep pit of hell, if thou keep thee not. Now have
I warned thee of thy vain glory and of thy pride, that thou hast many
times erred against thy Maker. Beware of everlasting pain, for of all
earthly knights I have most pity of thee, for I know well thou hast not
thy peer of any earthly sinful man. And so she commanded Sir Launcelot
to dinner; and after dinner he took his horse and commended her to God,
and so rode into a deep valley, and there he saw a river and an high
mountain. And through the water he must needs pass, the which was
hideous; and then in the name of God he took it with good heart. And
when he came over he saw an armed knight, horse and man black as any
bear: without any word he smote Sir Launcelot’s horse to the earth, and
so he passed on: he wist not where he was become. And then he took his
helm and his shield, and thanked God of his adventure.
Here leueth of the story of syr launcelot. And speke we of sir Gawayne,
the whiche is the xvi. book.
The Sixteenth Book.
CHAP. I.
_How Sir Gawaine was nigh weary of the quest of the Sangreal, and of
his marvellous dream._
When Sir Gawaine was departed from his fellowship, he rode long without
any adventure. For he found not the tenth part of adventure as he was
wont to do. For Sir Gawaine rode from Whitsunday unto Michaelmas, and
found none adventure that pleased him. So on a day it befell Gawaine
met with Sir Ector de Maris, and either made great joy of other, that
it were marvel to tell. And so they told every each other, and
complained them greatly that they could find none adventure.
Truly, said Sir Gawaine unto Sir Ector, I am nigh weary of this quest,
and loth I am to follow further in strange countries. One thing
marvelleth me, said Sir Ector, I have met with twenty knights, fellows
of mine, and all they complain as I do. I marvel, said Sir Gawaine,
where that Sir Launcelot your brother is. Truly, said Sir Ector, I
cannot hear of him, nor of Sir Galahad, Percivale, nor Sir Bors. Let
them be, said Sir Gawaine, for they four have no peers. And if one
thing were not in Sir Launcelot, he had no fellow of none earthly man;