Bab Bab 5 · OF SIR GALAHAD AND SIR PERCIVAL AND THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL

At the vigil of Pentecost, when all the fellowship of the Round Table

were come unto Camelot, and there they all heard their service, and

all the tables were covered, ready to set thereon the meat, right

so entered into the hall a full fair gentlewoman on horseback, that

had ridden full fast, for her horse was all to-besweat; [and she

besought Sir Launcelot that he would come forth with her into the

forest for to dub a knight.] Right so departed Sir Launcelot with the

gentlewoman, and rode till they came into a forest, and into a great

valley, where he saw an abbey of nuns; and there was a squire ready to

open the gates. And so there came in twelve nuns, which brought with

them Galahad, the which was passing fair and well made, that unneth

[_hardly_] men in the world might not find his match; and all those

ladies wept.

"Sir," said the ladies, "we bring here this child, the which we have

nourished, and we pray you for to make him a knight; for of a more

worthier man's hand may he not receive the order of knighthood."

Sir Launcelot beheld that young squire, and saw he was seemly and

demure as a dove, with all manner of good features, that he wend of

his age never to have seen so fair a man of form.

Then said Sir Launcelot, "Cometh this desire of himself?"

He and all they said, "Yea."

"Then shall he," said Sir Launcelot, "receive the high order of

knighthood as to-morrow at the reverence of the high feast."

That night Sir Launcelot had passing good cheer, and on the morrow

at the hour of prime, at Galahad's desire, he made him knight; and

said, "God make him a good man, for beauty faileth him not as any that

liveth."

So when the king and all the knights were come from service, the barons

espied in the sieges of the Round Table, all about written with gold

letters: "Here ought to sit" he, and he "ought to sit here." And thus

they went so long until that they came to the Siege Perilous, where

they found letters newly written of gold, that said: "Four hundred

winters and fifty-four accomplished after the passion of our Lord Jesu

Christ ought this siege to be fulfilled."

Then all they said, "This is a marvellous thing, and an adventurous."

"In the name of God," said Sir Launcelot; and then he accounted the

term of the writing, from the birth of our Lord unto that day.

"It seemeth me," said Sir Launcelot, "this siege ought to be fulfilled

this same day, for this is the feast of Pentecost after the four

hundred and four and fifty year; and if it would please all parties, I

would none of these letters were seen this day, till he be come that

ought to achieve this adventure."

Then made they to ordain a cloth of silk for to cover these letters in

the Siege Perilous. Then the king bade haste unto dinner.

"Sir," said Sir Kay the steward, "if ye go now unto your meat, ye shall

break your old custom of your court. For ye have not used on this day

to sit at your meat or that ye have seen some adventure."

"Ye say sooth," said the king, "but I had so great joy of Sir Launcelot

and of his cousins, which be come to the court whole and sound, that I

bethought me not of my old custom."

So as they stood speaking, in came a squire, and said unto the king,

"Sir, I bring unto you marvellous tidings."

"What be they?" said the king.

"Sir, there is here beneath at the river a great stone, which I saw

fleet [_float_] above the water, and therein saw I sticking a sword."

The king said, "I will see that marvel."

So all the knights went with him, and when they came unto the river,

they found there a stone fleeting, as it were of red marble, and

therein stuck a fair and a rich sword, and in the pommel thereof were

precious stones, wrought with subtle letters of gold. Then the barons

read the letters, which said in this wise: "Never shall man take me

hence, but only he by whom I ought to hang, and he shall be the best

knight of the world."

When the king had seen these letters, he said unto Sir

Launcelot, "Fair sir, this sword ought to be yours, for I am sure that

ye be the best knight of the world."

Then Sir Launcelot answered soberly, "Certainly, sir, it is not my

sword. Also, sir, wit ye well I have no hardiness to set my hand to it,

for it belongeth not to hang by my side. Also, who assayeth for to take

that sword, and faileth of it, he shall receive a wound by that sword

that he shall not be whole long after. And I will that ye wit that this

same day will the adventures of the Sancgreal (that is called the holy

vessel) begin."

* * * * *

So when they were served, and all the sieges fulfilled save only the

Siege Perilous, anon there befell a marvellous adventure, that all

the doors and the windows of the palace shut by themselves, but for

all that the hall was not greatly darked, and therewith they were all

abashed both one and other. Then King Arthur spake first, and said,

"Fair fellows and lords, we have seen this day marvels, but or night I

suppose we shall see greater marvels."

In the meanwhile came in a good old man and an ancient, clothed all

in white; and there was no knight that knew from whence he came. And

with him he brought a young knight, both on foot, in red arms, without

sword or shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side; and these words

he said, "Peace be with you, fair lords." Then the old man said unto

King Arthur, "Sir, I bring you here a young knight that is of king's

lineage, and of the kindred of Joseph of Arimathea, whereby the marvels

of this court and of strange realms shall be fully accomplished."

The king was right glad of his words, and said unto the good man, "Sir,

ye be right heartily welcome, and the young knight with you."

Then the old man made the young knight to unarm him; and he was in

a coat of red sendall, and bare a mantle upon his shoulder that was

furred with fine ermines, and put that upon him. And the old man said

unto the young knight, "Sir, follow after."

And anon he led him unto the Siege Perilous, where beside sat Sir

Launcelot; and the good man lifted up the cloth, and found there

letters that said thus: "This is the siege of Galahad the haut [_high_]

prince."

Then all the knights of the Table Round marvelled them greatly of Sir

Galahad, that he durst sit there in that Siege Perilous, and was so

tender of age, and wist not from whence he came, but all only by God,

and said, This is he by whom the Sancgreal shall be achieved, for there

sat never none but he, but he were mischieved. Then Sir Launcelot

beheld his son, and had great joy of him.

Then came King Arthur unto Sir Galahad, and said, "Sir, ye be welcome,

for ye shall move many good knights unto the quest of the Sancgreal,

and ye shall achieve that never knight might bring to an end."

Then the king took him by the hand, and went down from the palace to

show Sir Galahad the adventure of the stone.

The queen heard thereof, and came after with many ladies, and showed

them the stone where it hoved on the water. "Sir," said the king unto

Sir Galahad, "here is a great marvel as ever I saw, and right good

knights have assayed and failed."

"Sir," said Galahad, "that is no marvel, for this adventure is not

theirs, but mine, and for the surety of this sword I brought none with

me; for here by my side hangeth the scabbard."

And anon he laid his hand on the sword, and lightly drew it out of the

stone, and put it in the sheath, and said unto the king, "Now it goeth

better than it did aforehand."

"Sir," said the king, "a shield God shall send you."

"Now have I," said Sir Galahad, "that sword that sometime was the good

knight's Balin le Savage, and he was a passing good man of his hands.

And with this sword he slew his brother Balan, and that was great pity,

for he was a good knight, and either slew other through a dolorous

stroke that Balan gave unto my grandfather King Pelles, the which is

not yet whole, nor not shall be till I heal him."

Therewith the king and all espied where came riding down the river a

lady on a white palfrey towards them. Then she saluted the king and the

queen, and asked if that Sir Launcelot was there? And then he answered

himself, "I am here, fair lady."

Then she said, all with weeping, "How your great doing is changed sith

this day in the morn."

"Damsel, why say ye so?" said Launcelot.

"I say you sooth," said the damsel, "for ye were this day the best

knight of the world, but who should say so now should be a liar,

for there is now one better than ye. And well it is proved by the

adventures of the sword whereto ye durst not set your hand, and that

is in remembrance, that ye shall not ween from henceforth that ye be

the best knight of the world."

"As touching that," said Sir Launcelot, "I know well I was never the

best."

"Yes," said the damsel, "that were ye, and yet are of any sinful man

of the world; and, sir king, Nacien the hermit sendeth thee word that

to thee shall befall the greatest worship that ever befell king in

Britain, and I shall tell you wherefore, for this day the Sancgreal

appeared in this thy house, and fed thee and all thy fellowship of the

Round Table."

And so the damsel took her leave, and departed the same way that she

came.

* * * * *

Then the king [caused that Queen Guenever should see Sir Galahad] in

the visage; and when she beheld him she said, "Soothly I dare well say

that he is Sir Launcelot's son, for never two men resembled more in

likeness, therefore it is no marvel though he be of great prowess."

So a lady that stood by the queen said: "Madam, for God's sake, ought

he of right to be so good a knight?"

"Yea, forsooth," said the queen, "for he is of all parties come of

the best knights of the world, and of the highest lineage, for Sir

Launcelot is come but of the eighth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ,

and Sir Galahad is of the ninth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ,

therefore I dare well say that they be the greatest gentlemen of all

the world."

And then the king and all the estates went home unto Camelot, and so

went to even-song to the great minster; and so after that they went to

supper, and every knight sat in their place as they were beforehand.

Then anon they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought

the place should all to-rive [_burst_]; in the midst of the blast

entered a sunbeam more clear by seven times than ever they saw day,

and all they were alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began

every knight to behold other, and either saw other by their seeming

fairer than ever they saw afore, [and] there was no knight that might

speak one word a great while, and so they looked every man on other,

as they had been dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail

covered with white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who

bare it. And there was all the hall full filled with good odors, and

every knight had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world;

and when the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, then the holy

vessel departed suddenly, that they wist not where it became. Then had

they all breath to speak. And then the king yielded thankings unto God

of His good grace that He had sent them.

"Now," said Sir Gawaine, "we have been served this day of what meats

and drinks we thought on, but one thing beguiled us, we might not see

the Holy Grail, it was so preciously covered: wherefore I will make

here avow, that to-morn, without longer abiding, I shall labor in the

quest of the Sancgreal, that I shall hold me out a twelvemonth and a

day, or more if need be, and never shall I return again unto the court

till I have seen it more openly than it hath been seen here: and if I

may not speed, I shall return again as he that may not be against the

will of our Lord Jesu Christ."

When they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they arose up

the most part, and made such avows as Sir Gawaine had made.

Anon as King Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist

well that they might not gainsay their avows.

"Alas!" said King Arthur unto Sir Gawaine, "ye have nigh slain me with

the avow and promise that ye have made. For through you ye have bereft

me of the fairest fellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever

were seen together in any realm of the world. For when they depart from

hence, I am sure they all shall never meet more in this world, for they

shall die many in the quest. And so it forethinketh [_repenteth_] me a

little, for I have loved them as well as my life, wherefore it shall

grieve me right sore the departing of this fellowship. For I have had

an old custom to have them in my fellowship."

* * * * *

And therewith the tears fell into his eyes, and he said: "Sir Gawaine,

Sir Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow, for I have great doubt

that my true fellowship shall never meet more here again."

When the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these tidings, they had

such sorrow and heaviness that no tongue might tell it, for those

knights had holden them in honor and charity, but among all other,

Queen Guenever made great sorrow. "I marvel," said she, "my lord will

suffer them to depart from him." Thus was all the court troubled,

because those knights should depart.

After this the queen came unto Sir Galahad, and asked him of whence he

was, and of what country; he told her of whence he was, and son unto

Sir Launcelot she said he was.

And then they went to rest them; and in the honor of the highness of

Sir Galahad he was led into King Arthur's chamber, and there he rested

him in his own bed; and as soon as it was daylight the king arose, for

he had taken no rest of all that night for sorrow.

So anon Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine commanded their men to bring

their arms; and when they [were all armed, then the king would know

how many they were, and they found by tale [_count_] that they were an

hundred and fifty, and all knights of the Round Table.]

And so they mounted their horses, and rode through the streets of

Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and poor, and the king

turned away and might not speak for weeping.

So within a while they came to a city and a castle that hight [_was

named_] Vagon; there they entered into the castle, and the lord of that

castle was an old man that hight Vagon, and he was a good man of his

living, and set open the gates, and made them all the good cheer that

he might.

And then they departed on the morrow with weeping and mourning cheer,

and every knight took the way that him best liked.

* * * * *

Now rideth Sir Galahad yet without shield; and so he rode four days

without any adventure, and at the fourth day after even-song he came

to a white abbey, and there he was received with great reverence, and

led to a chamber; and there he was unarmed, and then was he ware of two

knights of the Round Table, one was King Bagdemagus, and that other was

Sir Uwaine. And when they saw him, they went unto him and made of him

great solace, and so they went to supper.

"Sirs," said Sir Galahad, "what adventure brought you hither?"

"Sir," said they, "it is told us that within this place is a shield

that no man may bear about his neck but if that he be mischieved or

dead within three days, or else maimed forever."

"Ah, sir," said King Bagdemagus, "I shall bear it to-morrow for to

assay this strange adventure."

"In the name of God," said Sir Galahad.

"Sir," said King Bagdemagus, "and I may not achieve the adventure of

this shield, ye shall take it upon you, for I am sure ye shall not

fail."

"Sir," said Sir Galahad, "I agree right well thereto, for I have no

shield."

So on the morrow they arose and heard mass. Then King Bagdemagus asked

where the adventurous shield was; anon a monk led him behind an altar,

where the shield hung as white as any snow, but in the midst was a red

cross.

"Sir," said the monk, "this shield ought not to be hanged about no

knight's neck, but he be the worthiest knight of the world, and

therefore I counsel you knights to be well advised."

"Well," said King Bagdemagus, "I wot well that I am not the best knight

of the world, but yet shall I assay to bear it."

And so he bare it out of the monastery; and then he said unto Sir

Galahad, "If it will please you, I pray you abide here still, till ye

know how I shall speed."

"I shall abide you here," said Galahad.

Then King Bagdemagus took with him a squire, the which should bring

tidings unto Sir Galahad how he sped. Then when they had ridden a two

mile, and came in a fair valley afore an hermitage, then they saw a

goodly knight come from that part in white armor, horse and all, and

he came as fast as his horse might run with his spear in the rest, and

King Bagdemagus dressed his spear against him, and brake it upon the

white knight; but the other struck him so hard that he brake the mails,

and thrust him through the right shoulder, for the shield covered him

not as at that time, and so he bare him from his horse, and therewith

he alighted and took the white shield from him, saying, "Knight, thou

hast done thyself great folly, for this shield ought not to be borne

but by him that shall have no peer that liveth."

And then he came to King Bagdemagus' squire and said, "Bear this shield

unto the good knight Sir Galahad, that thou left in the abbey, and

greet him well from me."

And the squire went unto Bagdemagus and asked him whether he were sore

wounded or not?

"Yea, forsooth," said he, "I shall escape hard from the death."

Then he fetched his horse, and brought him with great pain unto an

abbey. Then was he taken down softly, and unarmed, and laid in a bed,

and there was looked to his wounds. And he lay there long, and escaped

hard with the life.

* * * * *

"Sir Galahad," said the squire, "that knight that wounded Bagdemagus

sendeth you greeting, and bade that ye should bear this shield,

wherethrough great adventures should befall."

"Now blessed be God and fortune," said Sir Galahad.

And then he asked his arms, and mounted upon his horse, and hung the

white shield about his neck, and commended them unto God. And Sir

Uwaine said he would bear him fellowship, if it pleased him.

"Sir," said Sir Galahad, "that may ye not, for I must go alone, save

this squire that shall bear me fellowship." And so departed Sir Uwaine.

Then within a while came Sir Galahad there as the white knight abode

him by the hermitage, and every each saluted other courteously.

"Sir," said Sir Galahad, "by this shield been fall many marvels."

"Sir," said the knight, "it befell, after the passion of our Lord

Jesu Christ thirty year, that Joseph of Arimathea, the gentle knight

that took down our Lord from the cross, at that time he departed from

Jerusalem with a great part of his kindred with him, and so they

labored till they came to a city that hight Sarras. And at that same

hour that Joseph came unto Sarras, there was a king that hight Evelake,

that had great war against the Saracens, and in especial against one

Saracen, the which was King Evelake's cousin, a rich king and a mighty,

the which marched nigh this land, and his name was called Tollome le

Feintes. So upon a day these two met to do battle. Then Joseph, the

son of Joseph of Arimathea, went unto King Evelake, and told him that

he would be discomfited and slain but if he left his believe of the

old law and believe upon the new law. And then he showed him the right

believe of the Holy Trinity, the which he agreed with all his heart,

and there this shield was made for King Evelake, in the name of Him

that died upon the cross; and then through his good believe he had the

better of King Tollome. For when King Evelake was in the battle, there

was a cloth set afore the shield, and when he was in the greatest peril

he let put away the cloth, and then anon his enemies saw a figure of

a man upon the cross, wherethrough they were discomfited. And so it

befell that a man of King Evelake's had his hand smitten off, and bare

his hand in his other hand, and Joseph called that man unto him, and

bade him go with good devotion and touch the cross; and as soon as that

man had touched the cross with his hand it was as whole as ever it was

before. Not long after that, Joseph was laid in his death bed, and when

King Evelake saw that, he made great sorrow, and said: 'For thy love I

have left my country, and sith [_since_] thou shalt out of this world,

leave me some token that I may think on thee.' 'That will I do right

gladly,' said Joseph. 'Now bring me the shield that I took you when ye

went into the battle against King Tollome.' Then Joseph bled sore that

he might not by no means be stanched, and there upon that same shield

he made a cross of his own blood. 'Now ye shall never see this shield

but that ye shall think on me, and it shall be always as fresh as it

is now, and never shall no man bear this shield about his neck but he

shall repent it, unto the time that Galahad the good knight bear it,

and the last of my lineage shall have it about his neck, that shall do

many marvellous deeds.' 'Now,' said King Evelake, 'where shall I put

this shield, that this worthy knight may have it?' 'Ye shall leave it

there as Nacien the hermit shall be put after his death. For thither

shall that good knight come the fifteenth day after that he shall

receive the order of knighthood. And so that day that they set is this

time that ye have his shield. And in the same abbey lieth Nacien the

hermit.'"

And then the white knight vanished away. Anon, as the squire had heard

these words, he alighted off his hackney, and kneeled down at Galahad's

feet, and prayed him that he might go with him till he had made him

knight. So Sir Galahad granted him, and turned again unto the abbey

there they came from. And there men made great joy of Sir Galahad.

* * * * *

Then as Sir Galahad heard this, he thanked God, and took his horse,

and he had not ridden but half a mile, he saw in a valley before him

a strong castle with deep ditches, and there ran beside a fair river,

the which hight Sevarne; and there he met with a man of great age, and

either saluted other, and Sir Galahad asked him what was the castle's

name.

"Fair sir," said he, "it is the Castle of Maidens."

"That is a cursed castle," said Sir Galahad, "and all they that been

conversant therein, for all pity is out thereof, and all hardiness and

mischief is therein."

"Therefore I counsel you, sir knight," said the old man, "to return

again."

"Sir," said Sir Galahad, "wit ye well I shall not return again."

Then looked Sir Galahad on his armor that nothing failed him, and then

he put his shield afore him; and anon there met him seven maidens, that

said unto him, "Sir knight, ye ride here in a great folly, for ye have

the waters for to pass over."

"Why should I not pass the water?" said Sir Galahad.

So rode he away from them, and met with a squire that said, "Knight,

those knights in the castle defy you, and forbid you ye go no further

till that they wit what ye would."

"Fair sir," said Galahad, "I come for to destroy the wicked custom of

this castle."

"Sir, and ye will abide by that, ye shall have enough to do."

"Go you now," said Galahad, "and haste my needs."

Then the squire entered into the castle. And anon after there came out

of the castle seven knights, and all were brethren. And when they saw

Galahad, they cried, "Knight, keep thee, for we assure thee nothing but

death."

"Why," said Galahad, "will ye all have ado with me at once?"

"Yea," said they, "thereto mayest thou trust."

Then Galahad put forth his spear, and smote the foremost to the earth,

that near he brake his neck. And therewith all the other smote him on

his shield great strokes, so that their spears brake. Then Sir Galahad

drew out his sword, and set upon them so hard that it was marvel to see

it, and so, through great force, he made them to forsake the field; and

Galahad chased them till they entered into the castle, and so passed

through the castle at another gate. And there met Sir Galahad an old

man clothed in religious clothing, and said, "Sir, have here the keys

of this castle."

Then Sir Galahad opened the gates, and saw so much people in the

streets that he might not number them, and all said, "Sir, ye be

welcome, for long have we abiden here our deliverance."

Then came to him a gentlewoman, and said, "These knights be fled, but

they will come again this night, and here to begin again their evil

custom."

"What will ye that I shall do?" said Galahad.

"Sir," said the gentlewoman, "that ye send after all the knights hither

that hold their lands of this castle, and make them to swear for to use

the customs that were used heretofore of old time."

"I will well," said Galahad.

And there she brought him an horn of ivory, bounden with gold, and

said, "Sir, blow ye this horn, which will be heard two mile about this

castle."

And when Sir Galahad had blown the horn, he set him down upon a bed.

Then came there a priest unto Sir Galahad, and said, "Sir, it is

past a seven year that these seven brethren came into this castle,

and herborowed [_harbored_] with the lord of this castle, which hight

the duke Lianour; and he was lord of all this country. And so when

they espied the duke's daughter that was a fair woman, then by their

false covin [_conspiracy_] they slew him and his eldest son, and then

they took the maiden and the treasure of the castle. And then by great

force they held all the knights of this castle against their will

under their obeisance, and in great servage and truage, robbing and

pulling [_pillaging_] the poor common people of all that they had. So

it happened upon a day that the duke's daughter said, 'Ye have done

to me great wrong to slay mine own father and my brother, and thus

to hold our lands; not for then,' said she, 'ye shall not hold this

castle for many years; for by one knight ye shall be overcome.' Thus

she prophesied seven year before. 'Well,' said the seven knights,

'sithence [_since_] ye say so, there shall never lady nor knight pass

this castle, but they shall abide mauger [_spite of_] their heads, or

die therefore, till that knight be come by whom we shall leese [_lose_]

this castle.' And therefore it is called the maidens' castle, for they

have devoured many maidens."

"Now," said Sir Galahad, "is she here for whom this castle was lost."

"Nay," said the priest, "she died within three nights after, and

sithence have they kept her young sister, which endureth great pain,

with moe other ladies."

By this were the knights of the country come. And then he made them do

homage and fealty to the duke's daughter, and set them in great ease

of heart. And in the morn there came one to Galahad, and told him how

that Gawaine, Gareth, and Uwaine had slain the seven brethren.

"I suppose well," said Sir Galahad: and took his armor and his horse,

and commended them unto God.

* * * * *

So when Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of Maidens, he rode

till he came to a waste forest, and there he met with Sir Launcelot and

Sir Percival, but they knew him not, for he was new disguised. Right

so, Sir Launcelot his father dressed his spear, and brake it upon Sir

Galahad, and Sir Galahad smote him so again, that he smote down horse

and man. And then he drew his sword, and dressed him unto Sir Percival,

and smote him so on the helm that it rove to the coif of steel, and had

not the sword swerved Sir Percival had been slain, and with the stroke

he fell out of his saddle. This joust was done before the hermitage

where a recluse dwelled. And when she saw Sir Galahad ride, she said,

"God be with thee, best knight of the world. Ah, certes," said she

all aloud, that Launcelot and Percival might hear it, "and yonder two

knights had known thee as well as I do, they would not have encountered

with thee."

When Sir Galahad heard her say so he was sore adread to be known:

therewith he smote his horse with his spurs, and then rode a great pace

froward them. Then perceived they both that he was Galahad, and up they

gat on their horses, and rode fast after him, but in a while he was out

of their sight.

* * * * *

[Then it fell that Sir Percival's horse was slain; and he gat him a

hackney from a yeoman that he met, and the hackney was slain. Then

Sir Percival cast away his helm and sword, and said, "Now am I a very

wretch, cursed, and most unhappy above all other knights."]

So in this sorrow he abode all that day, till it was night, and then he

was faint, and laid him down and slept till it was midnight. And then

he awaked, and saw afore him a woman which said unto him, "Abide me

here, and I shall go fetch you an horse."

And so she came soon again, and brought an horse with her that was

black. When Sir Percival beheld that horse, he marvelled that it was so

great and so well apparelled; and for then he was so hardy, he leaped

upon him, and took none heed of himself. And so anon as he was upon

him he thrust to him with his spurs, and so rode by a forest, and the

moon shone clear. And within an hour and less, he bare him four days'

journey thence, till he came to a rough water the which roared, and his

horse would have borne him into it.

And when Sir Percival came nigh the brim, and saw the water so

boisterous, he doubted to overpass it. And then he made the sign of the

cross in his forehead. When the fiend felt him so charged, he shook off

Sir Percival, and he went into the water, crying and roaring, making

great sorrow; and it seemed unto him that the water burnt. Then Sir

Percival perceived it was a fiend, the which would have brought him

unto his perdition.

And so he prayed all that night, till on the morn that it was day. Then

he saw that he was in a wild mountain the which was closed with the sea

nigh all about, that he might see no land about him which might relieve

him, but wild beasts. And then he went into a valley, and there he

saw a young serpent bring a young lion by the neck, and so he came by

Sir Percival. With that came a great lion crying and roaring after the

serpent. And as fast as Sir Percival saw this, he marvelled, and hied

him thither, but anon the lion had overtaken the serpent, and began

battle with him. And then Sir Percival thought to help the lion, for he

was the more natural beast of the two; and therewith he drew his sword,

and set his shield afore him, and there gave the serpent such a buffet

that he had a deadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no semblant

to fight with him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a

man. Then Sir Percival perceived that, and cast down his shield, which

was broken, and then he did off his helm for to gather wind, for he was

greatly enchafed with the serpent. And the lion went alway about him

fawning as a spaniel. And then he stroked him on the neck and on the

shoulders. And then he thanked God of the fellowship of that beast. And

about noon, the lion took his little whelp, and trussed him, and bare

him there he came from. Then was Sir Percival alone.

Thus when Sir Percival had prayed, he saw the lion come towards him,

and then he couched down at his feet. And so all that night the lion

and he slept together; and when Sir Percival slept he dreamed a

marvellous dream, that there two ladies met with him, and that one sat

upon a lion, and that other sat upon a serpent, and that one of them

was young, and the other was old, and the youngest him thought said,

"Sir Percival, my lord saluteth thee, and sendeth thee word that thou

array thee and make thee ready, for to-morrow thou must fight with the

strongest champion of the world."

* * * * *

[Then, after many great deeds, it befell on a certain day that as the

good knight Galahad rode, he was met by a damsel on a palfrey, and

she led him towards the sea. And so at the seaside they found a ship

wherein they entered, and Sir Bors and Sir Percival being in that ship

greeted them with joy.]

By then the ship went from the land of Logris, and by adventure it

arrived up betwixt two rocks passing great and marvellous, but there

they might not land, for there was a swallow of the sea, save there was

another ship, and upon it they might go without danger.

"Go we thither," said the gentlewoman, "and there shall we see

adventures, for so is our Lord's will."

And when they came thither, they found the ship rich enough, but they

found neither man nor woman therein. But they found in the end of

the ship two fair letters written, which said a dreadful word and a

marvellous:--

"Thou man which shall enter into this ship, beware thou be in steadfast

belief, for I am faith, and therefore beware how thou enterest, for and

thou fail I shall not help thee."

Then said the gentlewoman, "Percival, wot ye what I am?"

"Certainly," said he, "not to my witting."

"Wit ye well," said she, "I am thy sister, that am daughter of King

Pellinore, and therefore wit ye well that ye are the man in the world

that I most love; and if ye be not in perfect belief, enter not in no

manner of wise, for then should ye perish in the ship, for it is so

perfect it will suffer no sin in it."

And when Sir Percival knew that she was his sister, he was inwardly

glad, and said, "Fair sister, I shall enter therein, for if I be a

miss-creature or an untrue knight, there shall I perish."

In the meanwhile Sir Galahad blessed him, and entered therein, and then

next the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bors and Sir Percival. And when they

were therein, they found it so marvellous fair and rich, that they had

great marvel thereof. And in the midst of the ship was a fair bed, and

Sir Galahad went thereto, and found there a crown of silk, and at the

feet was a sword rich and fair, and it was drawn out of the sheath half

a foot and more, and the sword was of divers fashions, and the pommel

was of stone, and there was in him all manner of colors that any man

might find, and every each of the colors had divers virtues, and the

scales of the haft were of two ribs of divers beasts. The one beast was

a serpent, which was conversant in Calidone, and is called the serpent

of the fiend. And the bone of him is of such a virtue, that there is

no hand that handleth him shall never be weary nor hurt. And the other

beast is a fish which is not right great, and haunteth the flood of

Eufrates; and that fish is called Ertanax, and his bones be of such a

manner of kind, that who that handleth them shall have so much will

that he shall never be weary, and he shall not think on joy nor sorrow

that he hath had, but only that thing that he beholdeth before him.

And as for this sword there shall never man begripe it at the handle

but one, but he shall pass all other.

"In the name of God," said Sir Percival, "I shall essay to handle it."

So he set his hand to the sword, but he might not begripe it.

"By my faith," said he, "now have I failed."

Sir Bors set his hand thereto and failed. Then Sir Galahad beheld the

sword, and saw the letters like blood, that said, "Let see who shall

assay to draw me out of my sheath, but if he be more hardier than

other, and who that draweth me, wit ye well that he shall never fail of

shame of his body, or to be wounded to the death."

"By my faith," said Galahad, "I would draw this sword out of the

sheath, but the offending is so great that I shall not set my hand

thereto."

"Now sir," said the gentlewoman, "wit ye well that the drawing of this

sword is forbidden to all men, save all only unto you. Also this ship

arrived in the realm of Logris [_England_], and that time was deadly

war between King Labor, which was father unto the maimed king, and King

Hurlame, which was a Saracen. But then was he newly christened, so that

men held him afterwards one of the wittiest men of the world. And so

upon a day it befell that King Labor and King Hurlame had assembled

their folk upon the sea, where this ship was arrived, and there King

Hurlame was discomfit, and his men slain, and he was afeared to be

dead, and fled to his ship, and there found this sword, and drew

it, and came out and found King Labor, the man in the world of all

Christendom in whom was then the greatest faith. And when King Hurlame

saw King Labor, he dressed this sword, and smote him upon the helm

so hard, that he clave him and his horse to the earth with the first

stroke of his sword. And it was in the realm of Logris; and so befell

great pestilence and great harm to both realms. For sith increased

corn nor grass, nor well nigh no fruit, nor in the water was no fish,

wherefore men call it the lands of the two marches, the waste land for

the dolorous stroke. And when King Hurlame saw that this sword was so

kerving [_sharp_], he returned again to fetch the scabbard, and so came

into this ship, and entered and put the sword into the scabbard; and as

soon as he had done so, he fell down dead before the bed. Thus was the

sword proved, that none that drew it but he were dead or maimed."

* * * * *

"Sir," said she, "there was a king that hight Pelles the Maimed King.

And while he might ride, he supported much Christendom, and holy

Church. So upon a day he hunted in a wood of his which lasted unto the

sea, and at the last he lost his hounds and his knights, save only one;

and there he and his knight went till that they came toward Ireland,

and there he found the ship. And when he saw the letters and understood

them, yet he entered, for he was right perfect of his life; but his

knight had none hardiness to enter, and there found he this sword,

and drew it out as much as ye may see. So therewith entered a spear,

wherewith he was smitten through both the thighs, and never sith might

he be healed, nor nought shall, tofore we come to him. Thus, said she,

was King Pelles, your grandsire, maimed for his hardiness."

"In the name of God, damsel," said Galahad.

So they went toward the bed to behold all about it, and above the head

there hung two swords. Also there were two spindles which were as white

as any snow, and other that were as red as blood, and other above green

as any emerald: of these three colors were the spindles, and of natural

color within, and without any painting.

"These spindles," said the damsel, "were when sinful Eve came to

gather fruit, for which Adam and she were put out of paradise, she

took with her the bough on which the apple hung. Then perceived she

that the branch was fair and green, and she remembered her the loss

which came from the tree, then she thought to keep the branch as long

as she might; and because she had no coffer to keep it in, she put it

into the ground. So by the will of our Lord the branch grew to a great

tree within a little while, and was as white as any snow, branches,

boughs, and leaves, that it was a token a maid planted it. And anon

the tree, that was white, became as green as any grass, and all that

came of it. And so it befell many days after, under the same tree, Cain

slew his brother Abel, whereof befell full great marvel; for anon as

Abel had received the death under the green tree, it lost the green

color and became red, and that was in tokening of the blood; and anon

all the plants died thereof, but the tree grew and waxed marvellous

fair, and it was the fairest tree and the most delectable that any

man might behold: and so died the plants that grew out of it before

the time that Abel was slain under it. So long endured the tree till

that Solomon, King David's son, reigned and held the land after his

father. This Solomon was wise and knew the virtues of stones and of

trees, and so he knew the course of the stars, and many other things.

This King Solomon had an evil wife, wherethrough he wend that there

had never been no good woman; and so he despised them in his books. So

a voice answered him once, 'Solomon, if heaviness come unto a man by

a woman, ne reck thou never; for yet shall there come a woman whereof

there shall come greater joy unto man an hundred times more than this

heaviness giveth sorrow, and that woman shall be born of thy lineage.'

Then when Solomon heard these words, he held himself but a fool, and

the truth he perceived by old books. Also the Holy Ghost showed him the

coming of the glorious Virgin Mary. Then asked he of the voice if it

should be in the end of his lineage. 'Nay,' said the voice, 'but there

shall come a man which shall be a [pure man] of your blood, and he

shall be as good a knight as Duke Josua thy brother-in-law.

* * * * *

'Now have I certified thee of that thou stoodst in doubt.' Then was

Solomon glad that there should come any such of his lineage, but ever

he marvelled and studied who that should be, and what his name might

be. His wife perceived that he studied, and thought that she would

know it at some season, and so she waited her time, and asked of him

the cause of his studying, and there he told her altogether how the

voice told him. 'Well,' said she, 'I shall let make a ship of the best

wood and most durable that men may find.' So Solomon sent for all

the carpenters of the land and the best. And when they had made the

ship, the lady said to Solomon, 'Sir,' said she, 'since it is so that

this knight ought to pass all other knights of chivalry which have

been tofore him, and shall come after him, moreover I shall tell you,'

said she, 'ye shall go into our Lord's temple, whereas is King David's

sword, your father, the which is the marvellousest and sharpest that

ever was taken in any knight's hand. Therefore take that, and take off

the pommel, and thereto make ye a pommel of precious stones, that it be

so subtilly made that no man perceive it but that they be all one. And

after make there an hilt so marvellously and wonderly that no man may

know it; and after make a marvellous sheath; and when you have made all

this, I shall let make a girdle thereto, such as shall please you.' All

this King Solomon let make as she devised, both the ship and all the

remnant. And when the ship was ready in the sea for to sail, the lady

let make a great bed and marvellous rich, and set her upon the bed's

head covered with silk, and laid the sword at the bed's feet; and the

girdles were of hemp. And therewith was the king angry. 'Sir, wit ye

well,' said she, 'that I have none so high a thing that were worthy to

sustain so big a sword, and a maid shall bring other knights thereto,

but I wot not when it shall be, nor what time.' And there she let make

a covering to the ship, of cloth of silk that shall never rot for no

manner of weather. Yet went that lady and made a carpenter to come to

that tree which Abel was slain under. 'Now,' said she, 'carve me out

of this tree as much wood as will make me a spindle.' 'Ah! madam,'

said the carpenter, 'this is the tree the which our first mother

planted.' 'Do it,' said she, 'or else I shall destroy thee.' Anon, as

the carpenter began to work, there came out drops of blood, and then

would he have left, but she would not suffer him. And so he took away

as much wood as might well make a spindle; and so she made him to take

as much of the green tree and of the white tree. And when these three

spindles were shapen, she made them to be fastened on the bed. When

Solomon saw this he said to his wife, 'Ye have done marvellously, for

though all the world were here now, they could not tell wherefore all

this was made, but our Lord himself, and thou that hast done it wottest

not what it shall betoken.' 'Now let it be,' said she, 'for ye shall

hear tidings sooner than ye ween.'

* * * * *

That night lay King Solomon before the ship with a small fellowship.

And when King Solomon was on sleep, him thought there came from heaven

a great company of angels, and alighted into the ship and took water

which was brought by an angel in a vessel of silver, and besprent

[_besprinkled_] all the ship; and after he came to the sword, and drew

letters on the hilt. And after went to the ship's board, and wrote

there other letters, which said: 'Thou man that wilt enter within me,

beware that thou be full within the faith, for I ne [_not_] am but

faith and belief.' When Solomon espied these letters he was abashed, so

that he durst not enter, and so drew him aback, and the ship was anon

shoven in the sea, and he went so fast that he lost sight of him within

a little while. And then a little voice said, 'Solomon, the last

knight of thy lineage shall rest in this bed.' Then went Solomon and

awaked his wife and told her of the adventures of the ship.

Now a great while the three fellows [_Galahad, and his two friends_]

beheld the bed and the three spindles. Then they were at certain that

they were of natural colors, without painting. Then they lifted up a

cloth which was above the ground, and there they found a rich purse by

seeming. And Percival took it, and found therein a writ, and so he read

it, and devised the manner of the spindles, and of the ship, whence it

came, and by whom it was made.

"Now," said Galahad, "where shall we find the gentlewoman that shall

make new girdles to the sword?"

"Fair sir," said Percival's sister, "dismay you not, for by the leave

of God I shall let make a girdle to the sword, such one as shall belong

thereto."

And then she opened a box, and took out girdles which were seemly

wrought with golden threads, and thereupon were set full of precious

stones, and a rich buckle of gold.

"Lo, lords," said the gentlewoman, "here is a girdle that ought to be

set about the sword; and wit ye well that the greatest part of this

girdle was made of my hair, the which I loved full well while I was

a woman of the world; but as soon as I wist that this adventure was

ordained me, I clipped off my hair, and made this girdle in the name of

God."

"Ye are well found," said Sir Bors, "for truly ye have put us out of a

great pain, wherein we should have entered ne had your teaching been."

Then went the gentlewoman and set it upon the girdle of the sword.

"Now," said the three fellows, "what is the right name of the sword,

and what shall we call it?"

"Truly," said she, "the name of the sword is the Sword with the Strange

Girdles, and the scabbard, Mover of Blood; for no man that hath blood

in him shall never see the one part of the scabbard which was made of

the tree of life."

Then they said unto Sir Galahad, "In the name of Jesu Christ, we pray

you that ye gird you with this sword, which hath been so much desired

in the realm of Logris."

"Now let me begin," said Sir Galahad, "to grip this sword for to give

you courage; but wot ye well that it belongeth no more to me than it

doth to you."

And then he gripped about it with his fingers a great deal, and then

she girded him about the middle with the sword.

"Now reck I not though I die, for now I hold me one of the blessed

maidens of the world, which hath made thee the worthiest knight of the

world."

"Fair damsel," said Sir Galahad, "ye have done so much that I shall be

your knight all the days of my life."

Then they went from that ship, and went into the other ship; and anon

the wind drove them into the sea a great pace, but they had no victual.

But it happened that they came on the morrow to a castle which men

call Courteloise that was in the marches of Scotland. And when they

had passed the port, the gentlewoman said, "Lords, here be men arriven

that, and they wist that ye were of King Arthur's court, ye should be

assailed anon."

"Damsel," said Galahad, "he that cast us out of the rock shall deliver

us from them."

[And it happened after that Sir Percival's sister of her own wish died

for the healing of a certain lady, and the lady was healed. Then, as

she had desired beforehand, Sir Percival laid her in a barge and]

covered it with silk; and the wind arose and drove the barge from land,

and all knights beheld it till it was out of their sight.

* * * * *

When Sir Launcelot was come to the water of Mortaise, he was in great

peril, and so he laid him down and slept, and took his adventure that

God would send him. So when he was asleep, there came a vision unto

him, and said, "Launcelot, arise up and take thine armor, and enter

into the first ship that thou shalt find."

And when he had heard these words, he started up, and saw a great

clearness about him; and then he lifted up his hand and blessed him,

and so took his armor, and made him ready. And by adventure he came by

a strand, and found a ship the which was without sail or oars; and as

soon as he was within the ship, there he felt the most sweetest savor

that ever he felt, and he was fulfilled with all things that he thought

on or desired. And so in this joy he lay him down on the ship-board,

and slept till daylight. And when he awoke, he found there a fair bed,

and therein lying a gentlewoman dead, the which was Sir Percival's

sister. And as Sir Launcelot beheld her, he espied in her right hand

a writing, the which he read, wherein he found all the adventures as

ye have heard before, and of what lineage she was come. So with this

gentlewoman Sir Launcelot was a month and more.

So upon a night he went to play him by the water's side, for he was

somewhat weary of the ship, and then he listened, and heard an horse

come, and one riding upon him. And when he came nigh he seemed a

knight. And so he let him pass, and went there as the ship was, and

there he alighted, and took the saddle and the bridle and put the horse

from him, and went into the ship. And then Launcelot dressed unto him

and said, "Ye be welcome."

And he answered and saluted him again, and asked him, "What is your

name? for much my heart giveth unto you."

"Truly," said he, "my name is Launcelot du Lake."

"Sir," said he, "then be ye welcome, for ye were the beginner of me in

this world."

"Ah," said he, "are ye Galahad?"

"Yea forsooth," said he.

And so he kneeled down and asked him his blessing, and after took off

his helm and kissed him. And there was great joy between them, for

there is no tongue can tell the joy that they made either of other,

and many a friendly word spoken between, as kind [_nature_] would,

the which is no need here to be rehearsed. And there every each told

other of their adventures and marvels that were befallen to them in

many journeys, sith that they departed from the court. Anon as Galahad

saw the gentlewoman dead in the bed, he knew her well enough, and told

great worship of her, and that she was the best maid living, and it was

great pity of her death. But when Launcelot heard how the marvellous

sword was gotten, and who made it, and all the marvels rehearsed

afore, then he prayed Galahad his son that he would show him the sword,

and so he did. And anon he kissed the pommel, and the hilts, and the

scabbard.

"Truly," said Launcelot, "never erst knew I of so high adventures

done, and so marvellous and strange." So dwelled Launcelot and Galahad

within that ship half a year, and served God daily and nightly with

all their power. And often they arrived in isles far from folk, where

there repaired none but wild beasts; and there they found many strange

adventures and perilous, which they brought to an end.

* * * * *

[Then on a certain day, a knight in white called to Sir Galahad from

the shore to leave that ship and fare on his quest, and Sir Galahad

departed from his father Sir Launcelot, and rode off upon the shore.

But Sir Launcelot drove a month through the sea, ever praying for news

of the Sancgreal.]

So it befell on a night, at midnight he arrived afore a castle, on the

back side, which was rich and fair. And there was a postern opened

towards the sea, and was open without any keeping, save two lions kept

the entry; and the moon shone clear. Anon Sir Launcelot heard a voice

that said, "Launcelot, go out of this ship, and enter into the castle,

where thou shalt see a great part of thy desire." Then he ran to his

arms, and so armed him, and so he went to the gate, and saw the lions.

Then set he hand to his sword, and drew it. Then there came a dwarf

suddenly, and smote him on the arm so sore that the sword fell out of

his hand. Then took he again his sword, and put it up in his sheath,

and make a cross in his forehead, and came to the lions, and they made

semblant to do him harm. Notwithstanding he passed by them without

hurt, and entered into the castle to the chief fortress, and there were

they all at rest. Then Launcelot entered in so armed, for he found

no gate nor door but it was open. And at the last he found a chamber

whereof the door was shut, and he set his hand thereto to have opened

it, but he might not.

Then he enforced him mickle [_much_] to undo the door. Then he

listened, and heard a voice which sang so sweetly that it seemed none

earthly thing. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled down before the chamber,

for well wist he that there was the Sancgreal within that chamber.

Then said he, "Fair sweet Father Jesu Christ, if ever I did thing that

pleased the Lord, for thy pity have me not in despite for my sins done

aforetime, and that thou show me something of that I seek!"

And with that he saw the chamber door open, and there came out a great

clearness, that the house was as bright as all the torches of the world

had been there. So came he to the chamber door, and would have entered.

And anon a voice said to him, "Flee, Launcelot, and enter not, for thou

oughtest not to do it: and if thou enter thou shalt forthink it." Then

he withdrew him aback right heavy. Then looked he up in the midst of

the chamber, and saw a table of silver, and the holy vessel covered

with red samite, and many angels about it.

Right soon he entered into the chamber, and came towards the table

of silver; and, when he came nigh, he felt a breath, that him thought

was entermedled [_mingled_] with fire, which smote him so sore in the

visage, that him thought it all to-burnt his visage, and therewith he

fell to the ground, and had no power to arise. Then felt he many hands

about him, which took him up, and bare him out of the chamber without

any amending of his sowne [_swoon_], and left him there seeming dead

to all the people. So on the morrow, when it was fair daylight, they

within were arisen, and found Sir Launcelot lying before the chamber

door: all they marvelled how he came in. And so they took him by every

part of the body, and bare him into a chamber, and laid him in a rich

bed far from all folk.

[Thus lay Sir Launcelot twenty-four days and nights, like as it were a

punishment for the twenty-four years that he had been a sinner. And at

the last he recovered himself.]

So Sir Launcelot departed, and took his armor, and said that he would

go see the realm of Logris, "which I have not seen in a twelvemonth."

And therewith he [took his leave and] rode through many realms. And

he turned unto Camelot, where he found King Arthur and the queen. But

many of the knights of the Round Table were slain and destroyed, more

than half. And so three were come home, Ector, Gawaine, and Lionel, and

many other that need not to be rehearsed. And all the court was passing

glad of Sir Launcelot; and the king asked him many tidings of his son

Galahad. And there Launcelot told the king of his adventures that had

befallen him since he departed. And also he told him of the adventures

of Galahad, Percival, and Bors, which that he knew by the letter of the

dead damsel, and as Galahad had told him.

"Now, God would," said the king, "that they were all three here."

"That shall never be," said Launcelot, "for two of them shall ye never

see, but one of them shall come again."

* * * * *

[Now Sir Galahad rode many journeys in vain, and afterward, meeting

with Sir Bors and Sir Percival, they knew many wonders and adventures;

till on a certain day they came down into a ship, and in the midst

thereof they found a table of silver and the Holy Grail all covered

with white samite. And the Holy Grail wrought many miracles, comforting

them in prison, feeding them, and healing the sick. And it befell that

the Paynim king who had cast them in prison died, and the people by one

accord chose Sir Galahad to be king, and he reigned there a year. And

on a certain morning Sir Galahad, having risen early, and come unto the

palace, saw before him the Holy Grail, and a man kneeling, and about

him a great fellowship of angels. Then Sir Galahad knew that his hour

was come. And he] went to Sir Percival, and kissed him and commended

him to God; and he went to Sir Bors, and kissed him and commended him

to God, and said, "Fair lord, salute me to my lord Sir Launcelot, my

father."

And therewith he kneeled down before the table and made his prayers;

and then suddenly his soul departed, and a great multitude of angels

bare his soul up to heaven. Also the two fellows saw come from heaven

an hand, but they saw not the body; and then it came to the [Holy

Grail] and took it, and the spear, and so bare it to heaven.

Since was there never man so hardy to say that he had seen the Holy

Grail.

* * * * *

[Then after a year and two months, Sir Percival, having lived a holy

life in a hermitage, departed away from this world. And having buried

him by his sister and Sir Galahad, Sir Bors entered into a ship and

came at last to Logris, and rode fast to Camelot where King Arthur was.

And there was great joy made of him, for they weened he had been dead.]

And anon Sir Bors said to Sir Launcelot, "Galahad, your own son saluted

you by me, and after you King Arthur, and all the court, and so did Sir

Percival: for I buried them with mine own hands in the city of Sarras.

Also, Sir Launcelot, Galahad prayeth you to remember of this uncertain

world, as ye behight him when ye were together more than half a year."

"This is true," said Launcelot; "now I trust to God his prayer shall

avail me."

Then Launcelot took Sir Bors in his arms, and said, "Gentle cousin, ye

are right welcome to me, and all that ever I may do for you and for

yours, ye shall find my poor body ready at all times whiles the spirit

is in it, and that I promise you faithfully, and never to fail. And wit

ye well, gentle cousin Sir Bors, that ye and I will never depart in

sunder whilst our lives may last."

"Sir," said he, "I will as ye will."

BOOK 6.