Chapter Chapter 501 · How Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose

. How Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose

body was borne to Joyous Gard for to be buried.

Then Sir Launcelot never after ate but little meat, ne drank, till he

was dead. For then he sickened more and more, and dried, and dwined

away. For the Bishop nor none of his fellows might not make him to eat,

and little he drank, that he was waxen by a cubit shorter than he was,

that the people could not know him. For evermore, day and night, he

prayed, but sometime he slumbered a broken sleep; ever he was lying

grovelling on the tomb of King Arthur and Queen Guenever. And there was

no comfort that the Bishop, nor Sir Bors, nor none of his fellows,

could make him, it availed not. So within six weeks after, Sir

Launcelot fell sick, and lay in his bed; and then he sent for the

Bishop that there was hermit, and all his true fellows. Then Sir

Launcelot said with dreary steven: Sir Bishop, I pray you give to me

all my rites that longeth to a Christian man. It shall not need you,

said the hermit and all his fellows, it is but heaviness of your blood,

ye shall be well mended by the grace of God to-morn. My fair lords,

said Sir Launcelot, wit you well my careful body will into the earth, I

have warning more than now I will say; therefore give me my rites. So

when he was houseled and anealed, and had all that a Christian man

ought to have, he prayed the Bishop that his fellows might bear his

body to Joyous Gard. Some men say it was Alnwick, and some men say it

was Bamborough. Howbeit, said Sir Launcelot, me repenteth sore, but I

made mine avow sometime, that in Joyous Gard I would be buried. And

because of breaking of mine avow, I pray you all, lead me thither. Then

there was weeping and wringing of hands among his fellows.

So at a season of the night they all went to their beds, for they all

lay in one chamber. And so after midnight, against day, the Bishop

[that] then was hermit, as he lay in his bed asleep, he fell upon a

great laughter. And therewith all the fellowship awoke, and came to the

Bishop, and asked him what he ailed. Ah Jesu mercy, said the Bishop,

why did ye awake me? I was never in all my life so merry and so well at

ease. Wherefore? said Sir Bors. Truly said the Bishop, here was Sir

Launcelot with me with mo angels than ever I saw men in one day. And I

saw the angels heave up Sir Launcelot unto heaven, and the gates of

heaven opened against him. It is but dretching of swevens, said Sir

Bors, for I doubt not Sir Launcelot aileth nothing but good. It may

well be, said the Bishop; go ye to his bed, and then shall ye prove the

sooth. So when Sir Bors and his fellows came to his bed they found him

stark dead, and he lay as he had smiled, and the sweetest savour about

him that ever they felt.

Then was there weeping and wringing of hands, and the greatest dole

they made that ever made men. And on the morn the Bishop did his mass

of Requiem, and after, the Bishop and all the nine knights put Sir

Launcelot in the same horse bier that Queen Guenever was laid in

to-fore that she was buried. And so the Bishop and they all together

went with the body of Sir Launcelot daily, till they came to Joyous

Gard; and ever they had an hundred torches brenning about him. And so

within fifteen days they came to Joyous Gard. And there they laid his

corpse in the body of the quire, and sang and read many psalters and

prayers over him and about him.

And ever his visage was laid open and naked, that all folks might

behold him. For such was the custom in those days, that all men of

worship should so lie with open visage till that they were buried. And

right thus as they were at their service, there came Sir Ector de

Maris, that had seven years sought all England, Scotland, and Wales,

seeking his brother, Sir Launcelot.