Le Morte D'Arthur, Vol. 2
by Thomas Malory
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman
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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 enchieved 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 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 a 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 thank 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 an God be
against you.

CHAPTER 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 loath to discover. For this fourteen
year I never discovered one thing that I have used, and
that may I now wite my shame and my disadventure.
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 for 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 nold,
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 to-
forehand. 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 wouldst thou be made nesh 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
wheresomever thou came; and now Our Lord will suffer thee
no longer, but that thou shalt know Him whether thou
wilt or nylt. 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 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 Grail 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 you 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 sewe knighthood, and so
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 longed unto you. And then Sir Launcelot
repented him greatly.

followeth of Sir Percivale de Galis, which is the
fourteenth book.>

BOOK XIV

CHAPTER 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 to-fore 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, and all that was in
her power was at his commandment.

So on the morn Sir Percivale went to the recluse and
asked her if she knew that knight with the white shield.
Sir, said she, why would ye wit? Truly, madam, said Sir
Percivale, I shall never be well at ease till that I know of
that knight's fellowship, and that I may fight with him,
for I may not leave him so lightly, for I have the shame
yet. Ah, Percivale, said she, would ye fight with him?
I see well ye have great will to be slain as your father
was, through outrageousness. Madam, said Sir Percivale,
it seemeth by your words that ye know me. Yea, said
she, I well ought to know you, for I am your aunt,
although I be in a priory place. For some called me
sometime the Queen of the Waste Lands, and I was called
the queen of most riches in the world; and it pleased
me never my riches so much as doth my poverty. Then
Sir Percivale wept for very pity when that he knew it
was his aunt. Ah, fair nephew, said she, when heard ye
tidings of your mother? Truly, said he, I heard none of
her, but I dream of her much in my sleep; and therefore
I wot not whether she be dead or alive. Certes, fair
nephew, said she, your mother is dead, for after your
departing from her she took such a sorrow that anon,
after she was confessed, she died. Now, God have mercy
on her soul, said Sir Percivale, it sore forthinketh me;
but all we must change the life. Now, fair aunt, tell me
what is the knight? I deem it be he that bare the red
arms on Whitsunday. Wit you well, said she, that this
is he, for otherwise ought he not to do, but to go in red
arms; and that same knight hath no peer, for he worketh
all by miracle, and he shall never be overcome of none
earthly man's hand.

CHAPTER II

How Merlin likened the Round Table to the world, and how
the knights that should achieve the Sangreal should be
known.

ALSO Merlin made the Round Table in tokening of roundness
of the world, for by the Round Table is the world
signified by right, for all the world, Christian and heathen,
repair unto the Round Table; and when they are chosen
to be of the fellowship of the Round Table they think them
more blessed and more in worship than if they had gotten
half the world; and ye have seen that they have lost their
fathers and their mothers, and all their kin, and their wives
and their children, for to be of your fellowship. It is well
seen by you; for since ye have departed from your mother
ye would never see her, ye found such fellowship at the
Round Table. When Merlin had ordained the Round
Table he said, by them which should be fellows of the
Round Table the truth of the Sangreal should be well
known. And men asked him how men might know them
that should best do and to enchieve the Sangreal? Then
he said there should be three white bulls that should enchieve
it, and the two should be maidens, and the third should be
chaste. And that one of the three should pass his father
as much as the lion passeth the leopard, both of strength
and hardiness.

They that heard Merlin say so said thus unto Merlin:
Sithen there shall be such a knight, thou shouldest ordain
by thy crafts a siege, that no man should sit in it but he
all only that shall pass all other knights. Then Merlin
answered that he would do so. And then he made the
Siege Perilous, in the which Galahad sat in at his meat on
Whitsunday last past. Now, madam, said Sir Percivale,
so much have I heard of you that by my good will I will
never have ado with Sir Galahad but by way of kindness;
and for God's love, fair aunt, can ye teach me some way
where I may find him? for much would I love the fellowship
of him. Fair nephew, said she, ye must ride unto a
castle the which is called Goothe, where he hath a cousin-
germain, and there may ye be lodged this night. And as
he teacheth you, seweth after as fast as ye can; and if he
can tell you no tidings of him, ride straight unto the Castle
of Carbonek, where the maimed king is there lying, for
there shall ye hear true tidings of him.

CHAPTER III

How Sir Percivale came into a monastery, where he found
King Evelake, which was an old man.

THEN departed Sir Percivale from his aunt, either making
great sorrow. And so he rode till evensong time. And
then he heard a clock smite; and then he was ware of an
house closed well with walls and deep ditches, and there he
knocked at the gate and was let in, and he alighted and
was led unto a chamber, and soon he was unarmed. And
there he had right good cheer all that night; and on the
morn he heard his mass, and in the monastery he found a
priest ready at the altar. And on the right side he saw a
pew closed with iron, and behind the altar he saw a rich
bed and a fair, as of cloth of silk and gold.

Then Sir Percivale espied that therein was a man or a
woman, for the visage was covered; then he left off his
looking and heard his service. And when it came to the
sacring, he that lay within that parclos dressed him up, and
uncovered his head; and then him beseemed a passing old
man, and he had a crown of gold upon his head, and his
shoulders were naked and unhilled unto his navel. And
then Sir Percivale espied his body was full of great wounds,
both on the shoulders, arms, and visage. And ever he held
up his hands against Our Lord's body, and cried: Fair,
sweet Father, Jesu Christ, forget not me. And so he lay
down, but always he was in his prayers and orisons; and
him seemed to be of the age of three hundred winter. And
when the mass was done the priest took Our Lord's body
and bare it to the sick king. And when he had used it he
did off his crown, and commanded the crown to be set on
the altar.

Then Sir Percivale asked one of the brethren what he
was. Sir, said the good man, ye have heard much of
Joseph of Aramathie, how he was sent by Jesu Christ into
this land for to teach and preach the holy Christian faith;
and therefore he suffered many persecutions the which the
enemies of Christ did unto him, and in the city of Sarras
he converted a king whose name was Evelake. And so
this king came with Joseph into this land, and ever he was
busy to be thereas the Sangreal was; and on a time he
nighed it so nigh that Our Lord was displeased with him,
but ever he followed it more and more, till God struck
him almost blind. Then this king cried mercy, and
said: Fair Lord, let me never die till the good knight
of my blood of the ninth degree be come, that I may
see him openly that he shall enchieve the Sangreal, that
I may kiss him.

CHAPTER IV

How Sir Percivale saw many men of arms bearing a dead
knight, and how he fought against them.

WHEN the king thus had made his prayers he heard a voice
that said: Heard be thy prayers, for thou shalt not die till
he have kissed thee. And when that knight shall come
the clearness of your eyes shall come again, and thou shalt
see openly, and thy wounds shall be healed, and erst shall
they never close. And this befell of King Evelake, and
this same king hath lived this three hundred winters this
holy life, and men say the knight is in the court that shall
heal him. Sir, said the good man, I pray you tell me what
knight that ye be, and if ye be of King Arthur's court and
of the Table Round. Yea forsooth, said he, and my name
is Sir Percivale de Galis. And when the good man understood
his name he made great joy of him.

And then Sir Percivale departed and rode till the hour
of noon. And he met in a valley about a twenty men of
arms, which bare in a bier a knight deadly slain. And
when they saw Sir Percivale they asked him of whence he
was. And he answered: Of the court of King Arthur.
Then they cried all at once: Slay him. Then Sir Percivale
smote the first to the earth and his horse upon him. And
then seven of the knights smote upon his shield all at once,
and the remnant slew his horse so that he fell to the earth.
So had they slain him or taken him had not the good knight,
Sir Galahad, with the red arms come there by adventure
into those parts. And when he saw all those knights upon
one knight he cried: Save me that knight's life. And then
he dressed him toward the twenty men of arms as fast as
his horse might drive, with his spear in the rest, and smote
the foremost horse and man to the earth. And when his
spear was broken he set his hand to his sword, and smote
on the right hand and on the left hand that it was marvel
to see, and at every stroke he smote one down or put him
to a rebuke, so that they would fight no more but fled to
a thick forest, and Sir Galahad followed them.

And when Sir Percivale saw him chase them so, he
made great sorrow that his horse was away. And then
he wist well it was Sir Galahad. And then he cried aloud:
Ah fair knight, abide and suffer me to do thankings unto
thee, for much have ye done for me. But ever Sir Galahad
rode so fast that at the last he passed out of his sight. And
as fast as Sir Percivale might he went after him on foot,
crying. And then he met with a yeoman riding upon an
hackney, the which led in his hand a great steed blacker
than any bear. Ah, fair friend, said Sir Percivale, as ever
I may do for you, and to be your true knight in the first
place ye will require me, that ye will lend me that black
steed, that I might overtake a knight the which rideth
afore me. Sir knight, said the yeoman, I pray you hold
me excused of that, for that I may not do. For wit ye
well, the horse is such a man's horse, that an I lent it you
or any man, that he would slay me. Alas, said Sir Percivale,
I had never so great sorrow as I have had for losing of
yonder knight. Sir, said the yeoman, I am right heavy
for you, for a good horse would beseem you well; but I
dare not deliver you this horse but if ye would take him
from me. That will I not do, said Sir Percivale. And so
they departed; and Sir Percivale set him down under a tree,
and made sorrow out of measure. And as he was there,
there came a knight riding on the horse that the yeoman
led, and he was clean armed.

CHAPTER V

How a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how
Sir Percivale's hackney was slain, and how he gat an
horse.

AND anon the yeoman came pricking after as fast as ever
he might, and asked Sir Percivale if he saw any knight
riding on his black steed. Yea, sir, forsooth, said he;
why, sir, ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that steed he hath
benome me with strength; wherefore my lord will slay
me in what place he findeth me. Well, said Sir Percivale,
what wouldst thou that I did? Thou seest well that I am
on foot, but an I had a good horse I should bring him
soon again. Sir, said the yeoman, take mine hackney and
do the best ye can, and I shall sewe you on foot to wit
how that ye shall speed. Then Sir Percivale alighted
upon that hackney, and rode as fast as he might, and at
the last he saw that knight. And then he cried: Knight,
turn again; and he turned and set his spear against Sir
Percivale, and he smote the hackney in the midst of the
breast that he fell down dead to the earth, and there he
had a great fall, and the other rode his way. And then
Sir Percivale was wood wroth, and cried: Abide, wicked
knight; coward and false-hearted knight, turn again and
fight with me on foot. But he answered not, but passed
on his way.

When Sir Percivale saw he would not turn he 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 right fiercely: Sir Percivale,
what dost thou here? He answered, I do neither good
nor great ill. If thou wilt ensure me, said she, that thou
wilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I shall lend thee
mine own horse which shall bear thee whither thou wilt.
Sir Percivale was glad of her proffer, and ensured her to
fulfil all her desire. Then abide me here, and I shall go
and fetch you an horse. And so she came soon again
and brought an horse with her that was inly black. When
Percivale beheld that horse he marvelled that it was so
great and so well apparelled; and not for then he was so
hardy, and he leapt 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 he rode by a forest, and the
moon shone clear. And within an hour and less he bare
him four days' journey thence, until he came to a rough
water the which roared, and his horse would have borne
him into it.

CHAPTER VI

Of the great danger that Sir Percivale was in by his horse,
and how he saw a serpent and a lion fight.

AND when Sir Percivale came nigh the brim, and saw the
water so boistous, he doubted to overpass it. And then
he made a sign of the cross in his forehead. When the
fiend felt him so charged he shook off Sir Percivale, and
he went into the water crying and roaring, making great
sorrow, and it seemed unto him that the water brent.
Then Sir Percivale perceived it was a fiend, the which
would have brought him unto his perdition. Then he
commended himself unto God, and prayed Our Lord to keep
him from all such temptations; 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 Percivale. With that came a great lion
crying and roaring after the serpent. And as fast as Sir
Percivale saw this he marvelled, and hied him thither, but
anon the lion had overtaken the serpent and began battle
with him. And then Sir Percivale 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 he gave the serpent such a buffet that he had
a deadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no
resemblaunt to fight with him, but made him all the
cheer that a beast might make a man. Then Percivale
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 Percivale alone. And as the tale telleth,
he was one of the men of the world at that time which
most believed in Our Lord Jesu Christ, for in those days
there were but few folks that believed in God perfectly.
For in those days the son spared not the father no more
than a stranger. And so Sir Percivale comforted himself
in our Lord Jesu, and besought God no temptation should
bring him out of God's service, but to endure as his true
champion. Thus when Sir Percivale had prayed he saw
the lion come toward him, and then he couched down at
his feet. And so all that night the lion and he slept
together; and when Sir Percivale 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 Percivale,
my lord saluteth thee, and sendeth thee word that
thou array thee and make thee ready, for to-morn thou
must fight with the strongest champion of the world.
And if thou be overcome thou shall not be quit for losing
of any of thy members, but thou shalt be shamed for ever
to the world's end. And then he asked her what was her
lord. And she said the greatest lord of all the world:
and so she departed suddenly that he wist not where.

CHAPTER VII

Of the vision that Sir Percivale saw, and how his vision
was expounded, and of his lion.

THEN came forth the other lady that rode upon the
serpent, and she said: Sir Percivale, I complain me of
you that ye have done unto me, and have not offended
unto you. Certes, madam, he said, unto you nor no lady
I never offended. Yes, said she, I shall tell you why. I
have nourished in this place a great while a serpent, which
served me a great while, and yesterday ye slew him as he
gat his prey. Say me for what cause ye slew him, for the
lion was not yours. Madam, said Sir Percivale, I know
well the lion was not mine, but I did it for the lion is of
more gentler nature than the serpent, and therefore I slew
him; meseemeth I did not amiss against you. Madam,
said he, what would ye that I did? I would, said she,
for the amends of my beast that ye become my man.
And then he answered: That will I not grant you. No,
said she, truly ye were never but my servant sin ye
received the homage of Our Lord Jesu Christ. Therefore,
I ensure you in what place I may find you without keeping
I shall take you, as he that sometime was my man. And
so she departed from Sir Percivale and left him sleeping,
the which was sore travailed of his advision. And on
the morn he arose and blessed him, and he was passing
feeble.

Then was Sir Percivale ware in the sea, and saw a
ship come sailing toward him; and Sir Percivale went
unto the ship and found it covered within and without
with white samite. And at the board stood an old man
clothed in a surplice, in likeness of a priest. Sir, said Sir
Percivale, ye be welcome. God keep you, said the good
man. Sir, said the old man, of whence be ye? Sir, said
Sir Percivale, I am of King Arthur's court, and a knight
of the Table Round, the which am in the quest of the
Sangreal; and here am I in great duresse, and never like
to escape out of this wilderness. Doubt not, said the
good man, an ye be so true a knight as the order of
chivalry requireth, and of heart as ye ought to be, ye
should not doubt that none enemy should slay you.
What are ye? said Sir Percivale. Sir, said the old man,
I am of a strange country, and hither I come to comfort
you.

Sir, said Sir Percivale, what signifieth my dream that
I dreamed this night? And there he told him altogether:
She which rode upon the lion betokeneth the new law of
holy church, that is to understand, faith, good hope, belief,
and baptism. For she seemed younger than the other it
is great reason, for she was born in the resurrection and
the passion of Our Lord Jesu Christ. And for great love
she came to thee to warn thee of thy great battle that shall
befall thee. With whom, said Sir Percivale, shall I fight?
With the most champion of the world, said the old man;
for as the lady said, but if thou quit thee well thou shalt
not be quit by losing of one member, but thou shalt be
shamed to the world's end. And she that rode on the
serpent signifieth the old law, and that serpent betokeneth
a fiend. And why she blamed thee that thou slewest her
servant, it betokeneth nothing; the serpent that thou
slewest betokeneth the devil that thou rodest upon to the
rock. And when thou madest a sign of the cross, there
thou slewest him, and put away his power. And when
she asked thee amends and to become her man, and thou
saidst thou wouldst not, that was to make thee to believe
on her and leave thy baptism. So he commanded Sir
Percivale to depart, and so he leapt over the board and
the ship, and all went away he wist not whither. Then
he went up unto the rock and found the lion which always
kept him fellowship, and he stroked him upon the back
and had great joy of him.

CHAPTER VIII

How Sir Percivale saw a ship coming to him-ward,
and how the lady of the ship told him of her disheritance.

BY that Sir Percivale had abiden there till mid-day he saw
a ship came rowing in the sea, as all the wind of the world
had driven it. And so it drove under that rock. And
when Sir Percivale saw this he hied him thither, and found
the ship covered with silk more blacker than any bear,
and therein was a gentlewoman of great beauty, and she
was clothed richly that none might be better. And when
she saw Sir Percivale she said: Who brought you in this
wilderness where ye be never like to pass hence, for ye
shall die here for hunger and mischief? Damosel, said
Sir Percivale, I serve the best man of the world, and in
his service he will not suffer me to die, for who that
knocketh shall enter, and who that asketh shall have, and
who that seeketh him he hideth him not. But then she
said: Sir Percivale, wot ye what I am? Yea, said he.
Now who taught you my name? said she. Now, said
Sir Percivale, I know you better than ye ween. And
I came out of the waste forest where I found the Red
Knight with the white shield, said the damosel. Ah,
damosel, said he, with that knight would I meet passing
fain. Sir knight, said she, an ye will ensure me by the
faith that ye owe unto knighthood that ye shall do my
will what time I summon you, and I shall bring you unto
that knight. Yea, said he, I shall promise you to fulfil
your desire. Well, said she, now shall I tell you. I saw
him in the forest chasing two knights unto a water, the
which is called Mortaise; and they drove him into the
water for dread of death, and the two knights passed over,
and the Red Knight passed after, and there his horse was
drenched, and he, through great strength, escaped unto
the land: thus she told him, and Sir Percivale was passing
glad thereof.

Then she asked him if he had ate any meat late.
Nay, madam, truly I ate no meat nigh this three days,
but late here I spake with a good man that fed me with
his good words and holy, and refreshed me greatly. Ah,
sir knight, said she, that same man is an enchanter and
a multiplier of words. For an ye believe him ye shall
plainly be shamed, and die in this rock for pure hunger,
and be eaten with wild beasts; and ye be a young man
and a goodly knight, and I shall help you an ye will.
What are ye, said Sir Percivale, that proffered me thus
great kindness? I am, said she, a gentlewoman that am
disherited, which was sometime the richest woman of the
world. Damosel, said Sir Percivale, who hath disherited
you? for I have great pity of you. Sir, said she, I
dwelled with the greatest man of the world, and he made
me so fair and clear that there was none like me; and of
that great beauty I had a little pride more than I ought
to have had. Also I said a word that pleased him not.
And then he would not suffer me to be any longer in his
company, and so drove me from mine heritage, and so
disherited me, and he had never pity of me nor of none of
my council, nor of my court. And sithen, sir knight, it
hath befallen me so, and through me and mine I have
benome him many of his men, and made them to become
my men. For they ask never nothing of me but I give
it them, that and much more. Thus I and all my servants
were against him night and day. Therefore I know now
no good knight, nor no good man, but I get them on my
side an I may. And for that I know that thou art a good
knight, I beseech you to help me; and for ye be a fellow
of the Round Table, wherefore ye ought not to fail no
gentlewoman which is disherited, an she besought you of
help.

CHAPTER IX

How Sir Percivale promised her help, and how he required
her of love, and how he was saved from the fiend.

THEN Sir Percivale promised her all the help that he
might; and then she thanked him. And at that time the
weather was hot. Then she called unto her a gentlewoman
and bade her bring forth a pavilion; and so she
did, and pight it upon the gravel. Sir, said she, now may
ye rest you in this heat of the day. Then he thanked
her, and she put off his helm and his shield, and there he
slept a great while. And then he awoke and asked her if
she had any meat, and she said: Yea, also ye shall have
enough. And so there was set enough upon the table,
and thereon so much that he had marvel, for there was all
manner of meats that he could think on. Also he drank
there the strongest wine that ever he drank, him thought,
and therewith he was a little chafed more than he ought
to be; with that he beheld the gentlewoman, and him
thought she was the fairest creature that ever he saw.
And then Sir Percivale proffered her love, and prayed her
that she would be his. Then she refused him, in a
manner, when he required her, for the cause he should be
the more ardent on her, and ever he ceased not to pray
her of love. And when she saw him well enchafed, then
she said: Sir Percivale, wit you well I shall not fulfil your
will but if ye swear from henceforth ye shall be my true
servant, and to do nothing but that I shall command you.
Will ye ensure me this as ye be a true knight? Yea, said
he, fair lady, by the faith of my body. Well, said she,
now shall ye do with me whatso it please you; and now
wit ye well ye are the knight in the world that I have
most desire to.

And then two squires were commanded to make a bed
in midst of the pavilion. And anon she was unclothed
and laid therein. And then Sir Percivale laid him down
by her naked; and by adventure and grace he saw his
sword lie on the ground naked, in whose pommel was a
red cross and the sign of the crucifix therein, and bethought
him on his knighthood and his promise made to-forehand
unto the good man; then he made a sign of the cross in
his forehead, and therewith the pavilion turned up-so-
down, and then it changed unto a smoke, and a black
cloud, and then he was adread and cried aloud:

CHAPTER X

How Sir Percivale for penance rove himself through the
thigh; and how she was known for the devil.

FAIR sweet Father, Jesu Christ, ne let me not be shamed,
the which was nigh lost had not thy good grace been.
And then he looked into a ship, and saw her enter therein,
which said: Sir Percivale, ye have betrayed me. And so
she went with the wind roaring and yelling, that it seemed
all the water brent after her. Then Sir Percivale made
great sorrow, and drew his sword unto him, saying:
Sithen my flesh will be my master I shall punish it; and
therewith he rove himself through the thigh that the blood
stert about him, and said: O good Lord, take this in
recompensation of that I have done against thee, my Lord.
So then he clothed him and armed him, and called himself
a wretch, saying: How nigh was I lost, and to have lost
that I should never have gotten again, that was my
virginity, for that may never be recovered after it is once
lost. And then he stopped his bleeding wound with a
piece of his shirt.

Thus as he made his moan he saw the same ship come
from Orient that the good man was in the day afore, and
the noble knight was ashamed with himself, and therewith
he fell in a swoon. And when he awoke he went unto
him weakly, and there he saluted this good man. And
then he asked Sir Percivale: How hast thou done sith
I departed? Sir, said he, here was a gentlewoman and
led me into deadly sin. And there he told him altogether.
Knew ye not the maid? said the good man. Sir, said he,
nay, but well I wot the fiend sent her hither to shame me.
O good knight, said he, thou art a fool, for that gentlewoman
was the master fiend of hell, the which hath power
above all devils, and that was the old lady that thou sawest
in thine advision riding on the serpent. Then he told
Sir Percivale how our Lord Jesu Christ beat him out of
heaven for his sin, the which was the most brightest angel
of heaven, and therefore he lost his heritage. And that
was the champion that thou foughtest withal, the which
had overcome thee had not the grace of God been. Now
beware Sir Percivale, and take this for an ensample. And
then the good man vanished away. Then Sir Percivale
took his arms, and entered into the ship, and so departed
from thence.

And here followeth of Sir Launcelot, which is the
fifteenth book.>

BOOK XV

CHAPTER I

How Sir Launcelot came to a chapel, where he found dead,
in a white shirt, a man of religion, of an hundred
winter old.

WHEN the hermit had kept Sir Launcelot three days, the
hermit gat him an horse, an helm, and a sword. And then
he departed about the hour of noon. And then he saw a
little house. And when he came near he saw a chapel, and
there beside he saw an old man that was clothed all in
white full richly; and then Sir Launcelot said: God save
you. God keep you, said the good man, and make you a
good knight. Then Sir Launcelot alighted and entered
into the chapel, and there he saw an old man dead, in a
white shirt of passing fine cloth.

Sir, said the good man, this man that is dead ought not
to be in such clothing as ye see him in, for in that he
brake the oath of his order, for he hath been more than an
hundred winter a man of a religion. And then the good
man and Sir Launcelot went into the chapel; and the
good man took a stole about his neck, and a book, and
then he conjured on that book; and with that they saw in
an hideous figure and horrible, that there was no man so
hard-hearted nor so hard but he should have been afeard.
Then said the fiend: Thou hast travailed me greatly;
now tell me what thou wilt with me. I will, said the good
man, that thou tell me how my fellow became dead, and
whether he be saved or damned. Then he said with an
horrible voice: He is not lost but saved. How may that
be? said the good man; it seemed to me that he lived
not well, for he brake his order for to wear a shirt where
he ought to wear none, and who that trespasseth against
our order doth not well. Not so, said the fiend, this man
that lieth here dead was come of a great lineage. And
there was a lord that hight the Earl de Vale, that held
great war against this man's nephew, the which hight
Aguarus. And so this Aguarus saw the earl was bigger
than he. Then he went for to take counsel of his uncle,
the which lieth here dead as ye may see. And then he
asked leave, and went out of his hermitage for to maintain
his nephew against the mighty earl; and so it happed
that this man that lieth here dead did so much by his
wisdom and hardiness that the earl was taken, and three of
his lords, by force of this dead man.

CHAPTER II

Of a dead man, how men would have hewn him, and it would
not be, and how Sir Launcelot took the hair of the dead
man.

THEN was there peace betwixt the earl and this Aguarus,
and great surety that the earl should never war against
him. Then this dead man that here lieth came to this
hermitage again; and then the earl made two of his
nephews for to be avenged upon this man. So they came
on a day, and found this dead man at the sacring
of his mass, and they abode him till he had said mass.
And then they set upon him and drew out swords to
have slain him; but there would no sword bite on him
more than upon a gad of steel, for the high Lord which he
served He him preserved. Then made they a great fire,
and did off all his clothes, and the hair off his back. And
then this dead man hermit said unto them: Ween you to
burn me? It shall not lie in your power nor to perish me
as much as a thread, an there were any on my body. No?
said one of them, it shall be assayed. And then they
despoiled him, and put upon him this shirt, and cast him in a
fire, and there he lay all that night till it was day in that
fire, and was not dead, and so in the morn I came and
found him dead; but I found neither thread nor skin
tamed, and so took him out of the fire with great fear, and
laid him here as ye may see. And now may ye suffer me
to go my way, for I have said you the sooth. And then
he departed with a great tempest.

Then was the good man and Sir Launcelot more
gladder than they were to-fore. And then Sir Launcelot
dwelled with that good man that night. Sir, said the good
man, be ye not Sir Launcelot du Lake? Yea, sir, said he.
What seek ye in this country? Sir, said Sir Launcelot, I
go to seek the adventures of the Sangreal. Well, said he,
seek it ye may well, but though it were here ye shall have
no power to see it no more than a blind man should see a
bright sword, and that is long on your sin, and else ye were
more abler than any man living. And then Sir Launcelot
began to weep. Then said the good man: Were ye confessed
sith ye entered into the quest of the Sangreal? Yea,
sir, said Sir Launcelot. Then upon the morn when the
good man had sung his mass, then they buried the dead
man. Then Sir Launcelot said: Father, what shall I do?
Now, said the good man, I require you take this hair that
was this holy man's and put it next thy skin, and it shall
prevail thee greatly. Sir, and I will do it, said Sir
Launcelot. Also I charge you that ye eat no flesh as long as ye
be in the quest of the Sangreal, nor ye shall drink no
wine, and that ye hear mass daily an ye may do it. So he
took the hair and put it upon him, and so departed at
evensong-time.

And so rode he into a forest, and there he met with a
gentlewoman riding upon a white palfrey, and then she
asked him: Sir knight, whither ride ye? Certes, damosel,
said Launcelot, I wot not whither I ride but as fortune
leadeth me. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said she, I wot what
adventure ye seek, for ye were afore time nearer than ye
be now, and yet shall ye see it more openly than ever ye
did, and that shall ye understand in short time. Then Sir
Launcelot asked her where he might be harboured that
night. Ye shall not find this day nor night, but to-morn ye
shall find harbour good, and ease of that ye be in doubt of
And then he commended her unto God. Then he rode
till that he came to a Cross, and took that for his host as
for that night.

CHAPTER III

Of an advision that Sir Launcelot had, and how he told it
to an hermit, and desired counsel of him.

AND so he put his horse to pasture, and did off his helm
and his shield, and made his prayers unto the Cross that he
never fall in deadly sin again. And so he laid him down
to sleep. And anon as he was asleep it befell him there an
advision, that there came a man afore him all by compass
of stars, and that man had a crown of gold on his head
and that man led in his fellowship seven kings and two
knights. And all these worshipped the Cross, kneeling
upon their knees, holding up their hands toward the
heaven. And all they said: Fair sweet Father of heaven
come and visit us, and yield unto us everych as we have
deserved.

Then looked Launcelot up to the heaven, and him
seemed the clouds did open, and an old man came down,
with a company of angels, and alighted among them, and
gave unto everych his blessing, and called them his
servants, and good and true knights. And when this old
man had said thus he came to one of those knights, and
said: I have lost all that I have set in thee, for thou hast
ruled thee against me as a warrior, and used wrong wars
with vain-glory, more for the pleasure of the world than to
please me, therefore thou shalt be confounded without thou
yield me my treasure. All this advision saw Sir Launcelot
at the Cross.

And on the morn he took his horse and rode till mid-
day; and there by adventure he met with the same knight
that took his horse, helm, and his sword, when he slept
when the Sangreal appeared afore the Cross. When Sir
Launcelot saw him he saluted hin 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 mounted upon his own
horse, 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 Sangreal, and therefore I pray
you to counsel me of a vision the which I had at the Cross.
And so he told him all.

CHAPTER IV

How the hermit expounded to Sir Launcelot his advision, 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
thine advision betokeneth. After the passion of Jesu
Christ forty year, 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 Helias le Grose; and the fourth hight Lisais; and
the fifth hight Jonas, he departed out of his country and
went into Wales, and took there 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, the 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 on 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 thou knewest the
daughter of King Pelles fleshly, and on her thou begattest
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 one of thy begetting on King Pelles'
daughter, 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,
meseemeth 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 mickle 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 everych shall bear his own burden. 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.

CHAPTER V

How Sir Launcelot jousted with many knights, and
how he was taken.

AND then 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 diverse 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 everych 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 struck
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[1] he might not lift up his arms for
to give one stroke, so that he weened never to have borne
arms; and then they all took 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. 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

[1] So W. de Worde; Caxton ``but.''

him with few words. And then Sir Launcelot made great
sorrow, For never or now was I never at tournament nor
jousts 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 he was 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 alighted 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 toward 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.

CHAPTER VI

How Sir Launcelot told his advision to a woman, and
how she expounded it to him.

AND then he told her altogether word by word, and the
truth how it befell him at the tournament. And after
told her his advision 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, sithen ye be set among the
knights of heavenly adventures, if adventure fell thee
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 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 [over]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 Sangreal. 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 chose 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 inclinest to that party for bobaunce
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 Sangreal unto the white knights, but thou was so feeble
of good belief and faith that thou mightest not abide it for
all the teaching of the good man, but anon thou turnest
to the sinners, and that caused thy misadventure that thou
should'st 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 advision 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 commended 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.

of Sir Gawaine, the which is the sixteenth book.>

BOOK XVI

CHAPTER 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 Whitsuntide until 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 everych 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 loath I am to follow further in strange countries.
One thing marvelled me, said Sir Ector, I have met with
twenty knights, fellows of mine, and all they complain as
I do. I have 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; but he is as we be,
but if he took more pain upon him. But an these four
be met together they will be loath that any man meet with
them; for an they fail of the Sangreal it is in waste of all
the remnant to recover it.

Thus Ector and Gawaine rode more than eight days,
and on a Saturday they found an old chapel, the which
was wasted that there seemed no man thither repaired;
and there they alighted, and set their spears at the door,
and in they entered into the chapel, and there made their
orisons a great while, and set them down in the sieges of
the chapel. And as they spake of one thing and other,
for heaviness they fell asleep, and there befell them both
marvellous adventures. Sir Gawaine him seemed he
came into a meadow full of herbs and flowers, and there
he saw a rack of bulls, an hundred and fifty, that were
proud and black, save three of them were all white, and
one had a black spot, and the other two were so fair and
so white that they might be no whiter. And these three
bulls which were so fair were tied with two strong cords.
And the remnant of the bulls said among them: Go we
hence to seek better pasture. And so some went, and
some came again, but they were so lean that they might
not stand upright; and of the bulls that were so white,
that one came again and no mo. But when this white bull
was come again among these other there rose up a great
cry for lack of wind that failed them; and so they
departed one here and another there: this advision befell
Gawaine that night.

CHAPTER II

Of the advision of Sir Ector, and how he jousted with Sir
Uwaine les Avoutres, his sworn brother.

BUT to Ector de Maris befell another vision the contrary.
For it seemed him that his brother, Sir Launcelot, and
he alighted out of a chair and leapt upon two horses,
and the one said to the other: Go we seek that we shall
not find. And him thought that a man beat Sir Launcelot,
and despoiled him, and clothed him in another array,
the which was all full of knots, and set him upon an ass,
and so he rode till he came to the fairest well that ever he
saw; and Sir Launcelot alighted and would have drunk
of that well. And when he stooped to drink of the water
the water sank from him. And when Sir Launcelot saw
that, he turned and went thither as the head came from.
And in the meanwhile he trowed that himself and Sir
Ector rode till that they came to a rich man's house
where there was a wedding. And there he saw a king the
which said: Sir knight, here is no place for you. And
then he turned again unto the chair that he came from.

Thus within a while both Gawaine and Ector awaked,
and either told other of their advision, the which marvelled
them greatly. Truly, said Ector, I shall never be merry
till I hear tidings of my brother Launcelot. Now as they
sat thus talking they saw an hand showing unto the elbow,
and was covered with red samite, and upon that hung a
bridle not right rich, and held within the fist a great
candle which burned right clear, and so passed afore them,
and entered into the chapel, and then vanished away and
they wist not where. And anon came down a voice which
said: Knights of full evil faith and of poor belief, these
two things have failed you, and therefore ye may not come
to the adventures of the Sangreal.

Then first spake Gawaine and said: Ector, have ye
heard these words? Yea truly, said Sir Ector, I heard
all. Now go we, said Sir Ector, unto some hermit that
will tell us of our advision, for it seemeth me we labour
all in vain. And so they departed and rode into a valley,
and there met with a squire which rode on an hackney,
and they saluted him fair. Sir, said Gawaine, can thou
teach us to any hermit? Here is one in a little mountain,
but it is so rough there may no horse go thither, and
therefore ye must go upon foot; there shall ye find a poor
house, and there is Nacien the hermit, which is the holiest
man in this country. And so they departed either from
other.

And then in a valley they met with a knight all armed,
which proffered them to joust as far as he saw them. In
the name of God, said Sir Gawaine, sith I departed from
Camelot there was none proffered me to joust but once.
And now, sir, said Ector, let me joust with him. Nay,
said Gawaine, ye shall not but if I be beat; it shall not
for-think me then if ye go after me. And then either
embraced other to joust and came together as fast as their
horses might run, and brast their shields and the mails,
and the one more than the other; and Gawaine was
wounded in the left side, but the other knight was smitten
through the breast, and the spear came out on the other
side, and so they fell both out of their saddles, and in the
falling they brake both their spears.

Anon Gawaine arose and set his hand to his sword,
and cast his shield afore him. But all for naught was it,
for the knight had no power to arise against him. Then
said Gawaine: Ye must yield you as an overcome man, or
else I may slay you. Ah, sir knight, said he, I am but
dead, for God's sake and of your gentleness lead me here
unto an abbey that I may receive my Creator. Sir, said
Gawaine, I know no house of religion hereby. Sir, said
the knight, set me on an horse to-fore you, and I shall
teach you. Gawaine set him up in the saddle, and he
leapt up behind him for to sustain him, and so came to
an abbey where they were well received; and anon he
was unarmed, and received his Creator. Then he prayed
Gawaine to draw out the truncheon of the spear out of his
body. Then Gawaine asked him what he was, that knew
him not. I am, said he, of King Arthur's court, and was
a fellow of the Round Table, and we were brethren sworn
together; and now Sir Gawaine, thou hast slain me, and
my name is Uwaine les Avoutres, that sometime was son
unto King Uriens, and was in the quest of the Sangreal;
and now forgive it thee God, for it shall ever be said that
the one sworn brother hath slain the other.

CHAPTER III

How Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector came to an hermitage to be
confessed, and how they told to the hermit their advisions.

ALAS, said Gawaine, that ever this misadventure is befallen
me. No force, said Uwaine, sith I shall die this death, of
a much more worshipfuller man's hand might I not die;
but when ye come to the court recommend me unto my
lord, King Arthur, and all those that be left alive, and for
old brotherhood think on me. Then began Gawaine to
weep, and Ector also. And then Uwaine himself and Sir
Gawaine drew out the truncheon of the spear, and anon
departed the soul from the body. Then Sir Gawaine and
Sir Ector buried him as men ought to bury a king's son,
and made write upon his name, and by whom he was
slain.

Then departed Gawaine and Ector, as heavy as they
might for their misadventure, and so rode till that they
came to the rough mountain, and there they tied their
horses and went on foot to the hermitage. And when
they were come up they saw a poor house, and beside
the chapel a little courtelage, where Nacien the hermit
gathered worts, as he which had tasted none other meat
of a great while. And when he saw the errant knights he
came toward them and saluted them, and they him again.
Fair lords, said he, what adventure brought you hither?
Sir, said Gawaine, to speak with you for to be confessed.
Sir, said the hermit, I am ready. Then they told him so
much that he wist well what they were. And then he
thought to counsel them if he might.

Then began Gawaine first and told him of his advision
that he had had in the chapel, and Ector told him all as it is
afore rehearsed. Sir, said the hermit unto Sir Gawaine, the
fair meadow and the rack therein ought to be understood the
Round Table, and by the meadow ought to be understood
humility and patience, those be the things which be always
green and quick; for men may no time overcome humility
and patience, therefore was the Round Table founded,
and the chivalry hath been at all times so by the fraternity
which was there that she might not be overcome; for men
said she was founded in patience and in humility. At the
rack ate an hundred and fifty bulls; but they ate not in
the meadow, for their hearts should be set in humility and
patience, and the bulls were proud and black save only
three. By the bulls is to understand the fellowship of
the Round Table, which for their sin and their wickedness
be black. Blackness is to say without good or virtuous
works. And the three bulls which were white save only
one that was spotted: the two white betoken Sir Galahad
and Sir Percivale, for they be maidens clean and without
spot; and the third that had a spot signifieth Sir Bors de
Ganis, which trespassed but once in his virginity, but
sithen he kept himself so well in chastity that all is forgiven
him and his misdeeds. And why those three were
tied by the necks, they be three knights in virginity and
chastity, and there is no pride smitten in them. And the
black bulls which said: Go we hence, they were those
which at Pentecost at the high feast took upon them to go
in the quest of the Sangreal without confession: they
might not enter in the meadow of humility and patience.
And therefore they returned into waste countries, that
signifieth death, for there shall die many of them: everych
of them shall slay other for sin, and they that shall
escape shall be so lean that it shall be marvel to see them.
And of the three bulls without spot, the one shall come
again, and the other two never.

CHAPTER IV

How the hermit expounded their advision.

THEN spake Nacien unto Ector: Sooth it is that Launcelot
and ye came down off one chair: the chair betokeneth
mastership and lordship which ye came down from. But
ye two knights, said the hermit, ye go to seek that ye shall
never find, that is the Sangreal; for it is the secret thing of
our Lord Jesu Christ. What is to mean that Sir Launcelot
fell down off his horse: he hath left pride and taken him
to humility, for he hath cried mercy loud for his sin, and
sore repented him, and our Lord hath clothed him in his
clothing which is full of knots, that is the hair that he
weareth daily. And the ass that he rode upon is a beast
of humility, for God would not ride upon no steed, nor
upon no palfrey; so in ensample that an ass betokeneth
meekness, that thou sawest Sir Launcelot ride on in thy
sleep. And the well whereas the water sank from him
when he should have taken thereof, and when he saw he
might not have it, he returned thither from whence he
came, for the well betokeneth the high grace of God, the
more men desire it to take it, the more shall be their
desire. So when he came nigh the Sangreal, he meeked
him that he held him not a man worthy to be so nigh the
Holy Vessel, for he had been so defouled in deadly sin by
the space of many years; yet when he kneeled to drink of
the well, there he saw great providence of the Sangreal.
And for he had served so long the devil, he shall have
vengeance four-and-twenty days long, for that he hath
been the devil's servant four-and-twenty years. And
then soon after he shall return unto Camelot out of this
country, and he shall say a part of such things as he hath
found.

Now will I tell you what betokeneth the hand with the
candle and the bridle: that is to understand the Holy
Ghost where charity is ever, and the bridle signifieth
abstinence. For when she is bridled in Christian man's
heart she holdeth him so short that he falleth not in deadly
sin. And the candle which sheweth clearness and sight
signifieth the right way of Jesu Christ. And when he
went and said: Knights of poor faith and of wicked
belief, these three things failed, charity, abstinence, and
truth; therefore ye may not attain that high adventure of
the Sangreal.

CHAPTER V

Of the good counsel that the hermit gave to them.

CERTES, said Gawaine, soothly have ye said, that I see it
openly. Now, I pray you, good man and holy father, tell
me why we met not with so many adventures as we were
wont to do, and commonly have the better. I shall tell
you gladly, said the good man; the adventure of the
Sangreal which ye and many other have undertaken the
quest of it and find it not, the cause is for it appeareth
not to sinners. Wherefore marvel not though ye fail
thereof, and many other. For ye be an untrue knight
and a great murderer, and to good men signifieth other
things than murder. For I dare say, as sinful as Sir
Launcelot hath been, sith that he went into the quest of
the Sangreal he slew never man, nor nought shall, till that
he come unto Camelot again, for he hath taken upon him
for to forsake sin. And nere that he nis not stable, but
by his thought he is likely to turn again, he should be next
to enchieve it save Galahad, his son. But God knoweth his
thought and his unstableness, and yet shall he die right an
holy man, and no doubt he hath no fellow of no earthly
sinful man. Sir, said Gawaine, it seemeth me by your words
that for our sins it will not avail us to travel in this quest
Truly, said the good man, there be an hundred such as ye
be that never shall prevail, but to have shame. And when
they had heard these voices they commended him unto
God.

Then the good man called Gawaine, and said: It is
long time passed sith that ye were made knight, and never
sithen thou servedst thy Maker, and now thou art so old
a tree that in thee is neither life nor fruit; wherefore bethink
thee that thou yield to Our Lord the bare rind, sith
the fiend hath the leaves and the fruit. Sir, said Gawaine
an I had leisure I would speak with you, but my fellow
here, Sir Ector, is gone, and abideth me yonder beneath
the hill. Well, said the good man, thou were better to be
counselled. Then departed Gawaine and came to Ector,
and so took their horses and rode till they came to a
forester's house, which harboured them right well. And
on the morn they departed from their host, and rode long
or they could find any adventure.

CHAPTER VI

How Sir Bors met with an hermit, and how he was confessed
to him, and of his penance enjoined to him.

WHEN Bors was departed from Camelot he met with a
religious man riding on an ass, and Sir Bors saluted him.
Anon the good man knew him that he was one of the
knights-errant that was in the quest of the Sangreal.
What are ye? said the good man. Sir, said he, I am
a knight that fain would be counselled in the quest of the
Sangreal, for he shall have much earthly worship that may
bring it to an end. Certes, said the good man, that is sooth,
for he shall be the best knight of the world, and the fairest
of all the fellowship. But wit you well there shall none
attain it but by cleanness, that is pure confession.

So rode they together till that they came to an hermitage.
And there he prayed Bors to dwell all that night
with him. And so he alighted and put away his armour,
and prayed him that he might be confessed; and so they
went into the chapel, and there he was clean confessed, and
they ate bread and drank water together. Now, said the
good man, I pray thee that thou eat none other till that
thou sit at the table where the Sangreal shall be. Sir, said
he, I agree me thereto, but how wit ye that I shall sit
there. Yes, said the good man, that know I, but there
shall be but few of your fellows with you. All is welcome,
said Sir Bors, that God sendeth me. Also, said the good
man, instead of a shirt, and in sign of chastisement, ye
shall wear a garment; therefore I pray you do off all your
clothes and your shirt: and so he did. And then he took
him a scarlet coat, so that should be instead of his shirt till
he had fulfilled the quest of the Sangreal; and the good
man found in him so marvellous a life and so stable, that
he marvelled and felt that he was never corrupt in fleshly
lusts, but in one time that he begat Elian le Blank.

Then he armed him, and took his leave, and so
departed. And so a little from thence he looked up into
a tree, and there he saw a passing great bird upon an old
tree, and it was passing dry, without leaves; and the bird
sat above, and had birds, the which were dead for hunger.
So smote he himself with his beak, the which was great
and sharp. And so the great bird bled till that he died
among his birds. And the young birds took the life by
the blood of the great bird. When Bors saw this he wist
well it was a great tokening; for when he saw the great
bird arose not, then he took his horse and yede his way.
So by evensong, by adventure he came to a strong tower
and an high, and there was he lodged gladly.

CHAPTER VII

How Sir Bors was lodged with a lady, and how he took upon
him for to fight against a champion for her land.

AND when he was unarmed they led him into an high
tower where was a lady, young, lusty, and fair. And she
received him with great joy, and made him to sit down by
her, and so was he set to sup with flesh and many dainties.
And when Sir Bors saw that, he bethought him on his
penance, and bade a squire to bring him water. And so
he brought him, and he made sops therein and ate them.
Ah, said the lady, I trow ye like not my meat. Yes,
truly, said Sir Bors, God thank you, madam, but I may
eat none other meat this day. Then she spake no more
as at that time, for she was loath to displease him. Then
after supper they spake of one thing and other.

With that came a squire and said: Madam, ye must
purvey you to-morn for a champion, for else your sister
will have this castle and also your lands, except ye can
find a knight that will fight to-morn in your quarrel
against Pridam le Noire. Then she made sorrow and
said: Ah, Lord God, wherefore granted ye to hold my
land, whereof I should now be disherited without reason
and right? And when Sir Bors had heard her say thus,
he said: I shall comfort you. Sir, said she, I shall tell
you there was here a king that hight Aniause, which held
all this land in his keeping. So it mishapped he loved a
gentlewoman a great deal elder than I. So took he her
all this land to her keeping, and all his men to govern;
and she brought up many evil customs whereby she put to
death a great part of his kinsmen. And when he saw that,
he let chase her out of this land, and betook it me, and all
this land in my demesnes. But anon as that worthy king
was dead, this other lady began to war upon me, and hath
destroyed many of my men, and turned them against me,
that I have well-nigh no man left me; and I have nought
else but this high tower that she left me. And yet she
hath promised me to have this tower, without I can find a
knight to fight with her champion.

Now tell me, said Sir Bors, what is that Pridam le
Noire? Sir, said she, he is the most doubted man of this
land. Now may ye send her word that ye have found a
knight that shall fight with that Pridam le Noire in God's
quarrel and yours. Then that lady was not a little glad,
and sent word that she was purveyed, and that night Bors
had good cheer; but in no bed he would come, but laid
him on the floor, nor never would do otherwise till that
he had met with the quest of the Sangreal.

CHAPTER VIII

Of an advision which Sir Bors had that night, and how he
fought and overcame his adversary.

AND anon as he was asleep him befell a vision, that there
came to him two birds, the one as white as a swan, and
the other was marvellous black; but it was not so great
as the other, but in the likeness of a Raven. Then the
white bird came to him, and said: An thou wouldst give
me meat and serve me I should give thee all the riches of
the world, and I shall make thee as fair and as white as I
am. So the white bird departed, and there came the black
bird to him, and said: An thou wolt, serve me to-morrow
and have me in no despite though I be black, for wit thou
well that more availeth my blackness than the other's
whiteness. And then he departed.

And he had another vision: him thought that he
came to a great place which seemed a chapel, and there he
found a chair set on the left side, which was worm-eaten
and feeble. And on the right hand were two flowers like
a lily, and the one would have benome the other's whiteness,
but a good man departed them that the one touched
not the other; and then out of every flower came out
many flowers, and fruit great plenty. Then him thought
the good man said: Should not he do great folly that
would let these two flowers perish for to succour the
rotten tree, that it fell not to the earth? Sir, said he, it
seemeth me that this wood might not avail. Now keep
thee, said the good man, that thou never see such adventure
befall thee.

Then he awaked and made a sign of the cross in midst
of the forehead, and so rose and clothed him. And there
came the lady of the place, and she saluted him, and he
her again, and so went to a chapel and heard their service.
And there came a company of knights, that the lady had
sent for, to lead Sir Bors unto battle. Then asked he his
arms. And when he was armed she prayed him to take a
little morsel to dine. Nay, madam, said he, that shall I
not do till I have done my battle, by the grace of God.
And so he leapt upon his horse, and departed, all the
knights and men with him. And as soon as these two
ladies met together, she which Bors should fight for
complained her, and said: Madam, ye have done me wrong
to bereave me of my lands that King Aniause gave me,
and full loath I am there should be any battle. Ye shall
not choose, said the other lady, or else your knight withdraw
him.

Then there was the cry made, which party had the
better of the two knights, that his lady should rejoice all
the land. Now departed the one knight here, and the
other there. Then they came together with such a
raundon that they pierced their shields and their hauberks,
and the spears flew in pieces, and they wounded either
other sore. Then hurtled they together, so that they fell
both to the earth, and their horses betwixt their legs; and
anon they arose, and set hands to their swords, and smote
each one other upon the heads, that they made great
wounds and deep, that the blood went out of their bodies.
For there found Sir Bors greater defence in that knight
more than he weened. For that Pridam was a passing
good knight, and he wounded Sir Bors full evil, and he
him again; but ever this Pridam held the stour in like
hard. That perceived Sir Bors, and suffered him till he
was nigh attaint. And then he ran upon him more and
more, and the other went back for dread of death. So in
his withdrawing he fell upright, and Sir Bors drew his
helm so strongly that he rent it from his head, and gave
him great strokes with the flat of his sword upon the
visage, and bade him yield him or he should slay him.
Then he cried him mercy and said: Fair knight, for God's
love slay me not, and I shall ensure thee never to war
against thy lady, but be alway toward her. Then Bors
let him be; then the old lady fled with all her knights.

CHAPTER IX

How the lady was returned to her lands by the battle of Sir
Bors, and of his departing, and how he met Sir Lionel
taken and beaten with thorns, and also of a maid which
should have been devoured.

SO then came Bors to all those that held lands of his lady,
and said he should destroy them but if they did such
service unto her as longed to their lands. So they did
their homage, and they that would not were chased out of
their lands. Then befell that young lady to come to her
estate again, by the mighty prowess of Sir Bors de Ganis.
So when all the country was well set in peace, then Sir
Bors took his leave and departed; and she thanked him
greatly, and would have given him great riches, but he
refused it.

Then he rode all that day till night, and came to an
harbour to a lady which knew him well enough, and made
of him great Joy. Upon the morn, as soon as the day
appeared, Bors departed from thence, and so rode into a
forest unto the hour of midday, and there befell him a
marvellous adventure. So he met at the departing of the
two ways two knights that led Lionel, his brother, all
naked, bounden upon a strong hackney, and his hands
bounden to-fore his breast. And everych of them held
in his hands thorns wherewith they went beating him so
sore that the blood trailed down more than in an hundred
places of his body, so that he was all blood to-fore and
behind, but he said never a word; as he which was great
of heart he suffered all that ever they did to him, as
though he had felt none anguish.

Anon Sir Bors dressed him to rescue him that was his
brother; and so he looked upon the other side of him,
and saw a knight which brought a fair gentlewoman, and
would have set her in the thickest place of the forest for
to have been the more surer out of the way from them
that sought him. And she which was nothing assured
cried with an high voice: Saint Mary succour your maid.
And anon she espied where Sir Bors came riding. And
when she came nigh him she deemed him a knight of the
Round Table, whereof she hoped to have some comfort;
and then she conjured him: By the faith that he ought
unto Him in whose service thou art entered in, and for
the faith ye owe unto the high order of knighthood, and
for the noble King Arthur's sake, that I suppose made
thee knight, that thou help me, and suffer me not to be
shamed of this knight. When Bors heard her say thus he
had so much sorrow there he nist not what to do. For if
I let my brother be in adventure he must be slain, and
that would I not for all the earth. And if I help not the
maid she is shamed for ever, and also she shall lose her
virginity the which she shall never get again. Then lift
he up his eyes and said weeping: Fair sweet Lord Jesu
Christ, whose liege man I am, keep Lionel, my brother,
that these knights slay him not, and for pity of you, and
for Mary's sake, I shall succour this maid.

CHAPTER X

How Sir Bors left to rescue his brother, and rescued the
damosel; and how it was told him that Lionel was dead.

THEN dressed he him unto the knight the which had the
gentlewoman, and then he cried: Sir knight, let your
hand off that maiden, or ye be but dead. And then he
set down the maiden, and was armed at all pieces save he
lacked his spear. Then he dressed his shield, and drew
out his sword, and Bors smote him so hard that it went
through his shield and habergeon on the left shoulder.
And through great strength he beat him down to the
earth, and at the pulling out of Bors' spear there he
swooned. Then came Bors to the maid and said: How
seemeth it you? of this knight ye be delivered at this
time. Now sir, said she, I pray you lead me thereas this
knight had me. So shall I do gladly: and took the horse
of the wounded knight, and set the gentlewoman upon
him, and so brought her as she desired. Sir knight, said
she, ye have better sped than ye weened, for an I had lost
my maidenhead, five hundred men should have died for it.
What knight was he that had you in the forest? By my
faith, said she, he is my cousin. So wot I never with what
engine the fiend enchafed him, for yesterday he took me
from my father privily; for I, nor none of my father's
men, mistrusted him not, and if he had had my maidenhead
he should have died for the sin, and his body shamed and
dishonoured for ever. Thus as she stood talking with
him there came twelve knights seeking after her, and anon
she told them all how Bors had delivered her; then they
made great joy, and besought him to come to her father,
a great lord, and he should be right welcome. Truly, said
Bors, that may not be at this time, for I have a great
adventure to do in this country. So he commended them
unto God and departed.

Then Sir Bors rode after Lionel, his brother, by the
trace of their horses, thus he rode seeking a great while.
Then he overtook a man clothed in a religious clothing;
and rode on a strong black horse blacker than a berry, and
said: Sir knight, what seek you? Sir, said he, I seek my
brother that I saw within a while beaten with two knights.
Ah, Bors, discomfort you not, nor fall into no wanhope;
for I shall tell you tidings such as they be, for truly he is
dead. Then showed he him a new slain body lying in a
bush, and it seemed him well that it was the body of Lionel,
and then he made such a sorrow that he fell to the earth
all in a swoon, and lay a great while there. And when he
came to himself he said: Fair brother, sith the company
of you and me is departed shall I never have joy in my
heart, and now He which I have taken unto my master,
He be my help. And when he had said thus he took his
body lightly in his arms, and put it upon the arson of his
saddle. And then he said to the man: Canst thou tell me
unto some chapel where that I may bury this body? Come
on, said he, here is one fast by; and so long they rode
till they saw a fair tower, and afore it there seemed an old
feeble chapel. And then they alighted both, and put him
into a tomb of marble.

CHAPTER XI

How Sir Bors told his dream to a priest, which he had
dreamed, and of the counsel that the priest gave to him.

NOW leave we him here, said the good man, and go we
to our harbour till to-morrow; we will come here again
to do him service. Sir, said Bors, be ye a priest? Yea
forsooth, said he. Then I pray you tell me a dream that
befell to me the last night. Say on, said he. Then he
began so much to tell him of the great bird in the forest,
and after told him of his birds, one white, another black,
and of the rotten tree, and of the white flowers. Sir, I
shall tell you a part now, and the other deal to-morrow.
The white fowl betokeneth a gentlewoman, fair and rich,
which loved thee paramours, and hath loved thee long;
and if thou warn her love she shall go die anon, if thou
have no pity on her. That signifieth the great bird, the
which shall make thee to warn her. Now for no fear that
thou hast, ne for no dread that thou hast of God, thou
shalt not warn her, but thou wouldst not do it for to be
holden chaste, for to conquer the loos of the vain glory of
the world; for that shall befall thee now an thou warn
her, that Launcelot, the good knight, thy cousin, shall die.
And therefore men shall now say that thou art a manslayer,
both of thy brother, Sir Lionel, and of thy cousin, Sir
Launcelot du Lake, the which thou mightest have saved and
rescued easily, but thou weenedst to rescue a maid which
pertaineth nothing to thee. Now look thou whether it
had been greater harm of thy brother's death, or else to
have suffered her to have lost her maidenhood. Then
asked he him: Hast thou heard the tokens of thy dream
the which I have told to you? Yea forsooth, said Sir Bors,
all your exposition and declaring of my dream I have well
understood and heard. Then said the man in this black
clothing: Then is it in thy default if Sir Launcelot, thy
cousin, die. Sir, said Bors, that were me loath, for wit ye
well there is nothing in the world but I had liefer do it
than to see my lord, Sir Launcelot du Lake, to die in my
default. Choose ye now the one or the other, said the
good man.

And then he led Sir Bors into an high tower, and there
he found knights and ladies: those ladies said he was
welcome, and so they unarmed him. And when he was
in his doublet men brought him a mantle furred with
ermine, and put it about him; and then they made him
such cheer that he had forgotten all his sorrow and anguish,
and only set his heart in these delights and dainties, and
took no thought more for his brother, Sir Lionel, neither
of Sir Launcelot du Lake, his cousin. And anon came
out of a chamber to him the fairest lady than ever he saw,
and more richer beseen than ever he saw Queen Guenever
or any other estate. Lo, said they, Sir Bors, here is the
lady unto whom we owe all our service, and I trow she be
the richest lady and the fairest of all the world, and the
which loveth you best above all other knights, for she will
have no knight but you. And when he understood that
language he was abashed. Not for then she saluted him,
and he her; and then they sat down together and spake
of many things, in so much that she besought him to be
her love, for she had loved him above all earthly men, and
she should make him richer than ever was man of his age.
When Bors understood her words he was right evil at ease,
which in no manner would not break chastity, so wist not
he how to answer her.

CHAPTER XII

How the devil in a woman's likeness would have had Sir
Bors to have lain by her, and how by God's grace he
escaped.

ALAS, said she, Bors, shall ye not do my will? Madam,
said Bors, there is no lady in the world whose will I will
fulfil as of this thing, for my brother lieth dead which was
slain right late. Ah Bors, said she, I have loved you long
for the great beauty I have seen in you, and the great
hardiness that I have heard of you, that needs ye must lie
by me this night, and therefore I pray you grant it me.
Truly, said he, I shall not do it in no manner wise. Then
she made him such sorrow as though she would have died.
Well Bors, said she, unto this have ye brought me, nigh
to mine end. And therewith she took him by the hand,
and bade him behold her. And ye shall see how I shall
die for your love. Ah, said then he, that shall I never see.

Then she departed and went up into an high battlement,
and led with her twelve gentlewomen; and when
they were above, one of the gentlewomen cried, and said:
Ah, Sir Bors, gentle knight have mercy on us all, and
suffer my lady to have her will, and if ye do not we must
suffer death with our lady, for to fall down off this high
tower, and if ye suffer us thus to die for so little a thing
all ladies and gentlewomen will say or you dishonour.
Then looked he upward, they seemed all ladies of great
estate, and richly and well beseen. Then had he of them
great pity; not for that he was uncounselled in himself
that liefer he had they all had lost their souls than he his,
and with that they fell adown all at once unto the earth.
And when he saw that, he was all abashed, and had thereof
great marvel. With that he blessed his body and his
visage. And anon he heard a great noise and a great cry,
as though all the fiends of hell had been about him; and
therewith he saw neither tower, nor lady, nor gentlewoman,
nor no chapel where he brought his brother to. Then
held he up both his hands to the heaven, and said: Fair
Father God, I am grievously escaped; and then he took
his arms and his horse and rode on his way.

Then he heard a clock smite on his right hand; and
thither he came to an abbey on his right hand, closed
with high walls, and there was let in. Then they supposed
that he was one of the quest of the Sangreal, so they led
him into a chamber and unarmed him. Sirs, said Sir
Bors, if there be any holy man in this house I pray you
let me speak with him. Then one of them led him unto
the Abbot, which was in a chapel. And then Sir Bors
saluted him, and he him again. Sir, said Bors, I am a
knight-errant; and told him all the adventure which he
had seen. Sir Knight, said the Abbot, I wot not what ye
be, for I weened never that a knight of your age might
have been so strong in the grace of our Lord Jesu Christ.
Not for then ye shall go unto your rest, for I will not
counsel you this day, it is too late, and to-morrow I shall
counsel you as I can.

CHAPTER XIII

Of the holy communication of an Abbot to Sir Bors, and how
the Abbot counselled him.

AND that night was Sir Bors served richly; and on the
morn early he heard mass, and the Abbot came to him,
and bade him good morrow, and Bors to him again. And
then he told him he was a fellow of the quest of the Sangreal,
and how he had charge of the holy man to eat bread
and water. Then [said the Abbot]: Our Lord Jesu Christ
showed him unto you in the likeness of a soul that suffered
great anguish for us, since He was put upon the cross, and
bled His heart-blood for mankind: there was the token
and the likeness of the Sangreal that appeared afore you,
for the blood that the great fowl bled revived the chickens
from death to life. And by the bare tree is betokened
the world which is naked and without fruit but if it come
of Our Lord. Also the lady for whom ye fought for, and
King Aniause which was lord there-to-fore, betokeneth
Jesu Christ which is the King of the world. And that ye
fought with the champion for the lady, this it betokeneth:
for when ye took the battle for the lady, by her shall ye
understand the new law of Jesu Christ and Holy Church;
and by the other lady ye shall understand the old law and
the fiend, which all day warreth against Holy Church,
therefore ye did your battle with right. For ye be Jesu
Christ's knights, therefore ye ought to be defenders of
Holy Church. And by the black bird might ye understand
Holy Church, which sayeth I am black, but he is
fair. And by the white bird might men understand the
fiend, and I shall tell you how the swan is white without-
forth, and black within: it is hypocrisy which is without
yellow or pale, and seemeth without-forth the servants of
Jesu Christ, but they be within so horrible of filth and
sin, and beguile the world evil. Also when the fiend
appeared to thee in likeness of a man of religion, and
blamed thee that thou left thy brother for a lady, so led
thee where thou seemed thy brother was slain, but he is
yet alive; and all was for to put thee in error, and bring
thee unto wanhope and lechery, for he knew thou were
tender hearted, and all was for thou shouldst not find the
blessed adventure of the Sangreal. And the third fowl
betokeneth the strong battle against the fair ladies which
were all devils. Also the dry tree and the white lily: the
dry tree betokeneth thy brother Lionel, which is dry
without virtue, and therefore many men ought to call him the
rotten tree, and the worm-eaten tree, for he is a murderer
and doth contrary to the order of knighthood. And the
two white flowers signify two maidens, the one is a knight
which was wounded the other day, and the other is the
gentlewoman which ye rescued; and why the other flower
drew nigh the other, that was the knight which would
have defouled her and himself both. And Sir Bors, ye
had been a great fool and in great peril for to have seen
those two flowers perish for to succour the rotten tree, for
an they had sinned together they had been damned; and
for that ye rescued them both, men might call you a very
knight and servant of Jesu Christ.

CHAPTER XIV

How Sir Bors met with his brother Sir Lionel, and how
Sir Lionel would have slain Sir Bors.

THEN went Sir Bors from thence and commended the
Abbot unto God. And then he rode all that day, and
harboured with an old lady. And on the morn he rode
to a castle in a valley, and there he met with a yeoman
going a great pace toward a forest. Say me, said Sir Bors,
canst thou tell me of any adventure? Sir, said he, here
shall be under this castle a great and a marvellous
tournament. Of what folks shall it be? said Sir Bors. The
Earl of Plains shall be in the one party, and the lady's
nephew of Hervin on the other party. Then Bors
thought to be there if he might meet with his brother
Sir Lionel, or any other of his fellowship, which were in
the quest of the Sangreal. And then he turned to an
hermitage that was in the entry of the forest.

And when he was come thither he found there Sir
Lionel, his brother, which sat all armed at the entry of
the chapel door for to abide there harbour till on the
morn that the tournament shall be. And when Sir Bors
saw him he had great joy of him, that it were marvel to
tell of his joy. And then he alighted off his horse, and
said: Fair sweet brother, when came ye hither? Anon
as Lionel saw him he said: Ah Bors, ye may not make
none avaunt, but as for you I might have been slain;
when ye saw two knights leading me away beating me,
ye left me for to succour a gentlewoman, and suffered me
in peril of death; for never erst ne did no brother to
another so great an untruth. And for that misdeed now
I ensure you but death, for well have ye deserved it;
therefore keep thee from henceforward, and that shall ye
find as soon as I am armed. When Sir Bors understood
his brother's wrath he kneeled down to the earth and cried
him mercy, holding up both his hands, and prayed him to
forgive him his evil will. Nay, said Lionel, that shall
never be an I may have the higher hand, that I make
mine avow to God, thou shalt have death for it, for it
were pity ye lived any longer.

Right so he went in and took his harness, and mounted
upon his horse, and came to-fore him and said: Bors,
keep thee from me, for I shall do to thee as I would to a
felon or a traitor, for ye be the untruest knight that ever
came out of so worthy an house as was King Bors de
Ganis which was our father, therefore start upon thy
horse, and so shall ye be most at your advantage. And
but if ye will I will run upon you thereas ye stand upon
foot, and so the shame shall be mine and the harm yours,
but of that shame ne reck I nought.

When Sir Bors saw that he must fight with his brother
or else to die, he nist what to do; then his heart counselled
him not thereto, inasmuch as Lionel was born or he,
wherefore he ought to bear him reverence; yet kneeled
he down afore Lionel's horse's feet, and said: Fair sweet
brother, have mercy upon me and slay me not, and have
in remembrance the great love which ought to be between
us twain. What Sir Bors said to Lionel he rought not,
for the fiend had brought him in such a will that he should
slay him. Then when Lionel saw he would none other,
and that he would not have risen to give him battle, he
rashed over him so that he smote Bors with his horse,
feet upward, to the earth, and hurt him so sore that he
swooned of distress, the which he felt in himself to have
died without confession. So when Lionel saw this, he
alighted off his horse to have smitten off his head. And
so he took him by the helm, and would have rent it from
his head. Then came the hermit running unto him,
which was a good man and of great age, and well had
heard all the words that were between them, and so fell
down upon Sir Bors.

CHAPTER XV

How Sir Colgrevance fought against Sir Lionel for to save
Sir Bors, and how the hermit was slain.

THEN he said to Lionel: Ah gentle knight, have mercy
upon me and on thy brother, for if thou slay him thou
shalt be dead of sin, and that were sorrowful, for he is
one of the worthiest knights of the world, and of the best
conditions. So God help me, said Lionel, sir priest, but
if ye flee from him I shall slay you, and he shall never the
sooner be quit. Certes, said the good man, I have liefer
ye slay me than him, for my death shall not be great
harm, not half so much as of his. Well, said Lionel, I
am greed; and set his hand to his sword and smote him
so hard that his head yede backward. Not for that he
restrained him of his evil will, but took his brother by the
helm, and unlaced it to have stricken off his head, and
had slain him without fail. But so it happed, Colgrevance
a fellow of the Round Table, came at that time thither as
Our Lord's will was. And when he saw the good man
slain he marvelled much what it might be. And then he
beheld Lionel would have slain his brother, and knew Sir
Bors which he loved right well. Then stert he down and
took Lionel by the shoulders, and drew him strongly
aback from Bors, and said: Lionel, will ye slay your
brother, the worthiest knight of the world one? and that
should no good man suffer. Why, said Lionel, will ye
let me? therefore if ye entermete you in this I shall slay
you, and him after. Why, said Colgrevance, is this
sooth that ye will slay him? Slay him will I, said
he, whoso say the contrary, for he hath done so much
against me that he hath well deserved it. And so ran
upon him, and would have smitten him through the
head, and Sir Colgrevance ran betwixt them, and said:
An ye be so hardy to do so more, we two shall meddle
together.

When Lionel understood his words he took his shield
afore him, and asked him what that he was. And he told
him, Colgrevance, one of his fellows. Then Lionel defied
him, and gave him a great stroke through the helm.
Then he drew his sword, for he was a passing good
knight, and defended him right manfully. So long dured
the battle that Bors rose up all anguishly, and beheld [how]
Colgrevance, the good knight, fought with his brother
for his quarrel; then was he full sorry and heavy, and
thought if Colgrevance slew him that was his brother he
should never have joy; and if his brother slew Colgrevance
the shame should ever be mine. Then would he
have risen to have departed them, but he had not so
much might to stand on foot; so he abode him so long
till Colgrevance had the worse, for Lionel was of great
chivalry and right hardy, for he had pierced the hauberk
and the helm, that he abode but death, for he had lost
much of his blood that it was marvel that he might stand
upright. Then beheld he Sir Bors which sat dressing him
upward and said: Ah, Bors, why come ye not to cast me
out of peril of death, wherein I have put me to succour
you which were right now nigh the death? Certes, said
Lionel, that shall not avail you, for none of you shall bear
others warrant, but that ye shall die both of my hand.
When Bors heard that, he did so much, he rose and put
on his helm. Then perceived he first the hermit-priest
which was slain, then made he a marvellous sorrow upon
him.

CHAPTER XVI

How Sir Lionel slew Sir Colgrevance, and how after he
would have slain Sir Bors.

THEN oft Colgrevance cried upon Sir Bors: Why will
ye let me die here for your sake? if it please you that I
die for you the death, it will please me the better for to
save a worthy man. With that word Sir Lionel smote off
the helm from his head. Then Colgrevance saw that he
might not escape; then he said: Fair sweet Jesu, that I
have misdone have mercy upon my soul, for such sorrow
that my heart suffereth for goodness, and for alms deed
that I would have done here, be to me aligement of
penance unto my soul's health. At these words Lionel
smote him so sore that he bare him to the earth. So he
had slain Colgrevance he ran upon his brother as a fiendly
man, and gave him such a stroke that he made him stoop.
And he that was full of humility prayed him for God's
love to leave this battle: For an it befell, fair brother,
that I slew you or ye me, we should be dead of that sin.
Never God me help but if I have on you mercy, an I may
have the better hand. Then drew Bors his sword, all
weeping, and said: Fair brother, God knoweth mine
intent. Ah, fair brother, ye have done full evil this day
to slay such an holy priest the which never trespassed.
Also ye have slain a gentle knight, and one of our fellows.
And well wot ye that I am not afeard of you greatly, but
I dread the wrath of God, and this is an unkindly war,
therefore God show miracle upon us both. Now God
have mercy upon me though I defend my life against my
brother: with that Bors lift up his hand and would have
smitten his brother.

CHAPTER XVII

How there came a voice which charged Sir Bors to touch
him not, and of a cloud that came between them.

AND then he heard a voice that said: Flee Bors, and
touch him not, or else thou shalt slay him. Right so
alighted a cloud betwixt them in likeness of a fire and
a marvellous flame, that both their two shields brent.
Then were they sore afraid, that they fell both to the
earth, and lay there a great while in a swoon. And when
they came to themself, Bors saw that his brother had no
harm; then he held up both his hands, for he dread God
had taken vengeance upon him. With that he heard a
voice say: Bors, go hence, and bear thy brother no longer
fellowship, but take thy way anon right to the sea, for Sir
Percivale abideth thee there. Then he said to his brother:
Fair sweet brother, forgive me for God's love all that I
have trespassed unto you. Then he answered: God forgive
it thee and I do gladly.

So Sir Bors departed from him and rode the next way
to the sea. And at the last by fortune he came to an
abbey which was nigh the sea. That night Bors rested
him there; and in his sleep there came a voice to him
and bade him go to the sea. Then he stert up and made
a sign of the cross in the midst of his forehead, and
took his harness, and made ready his horse, and mounted
upon him; and at a broken wall he rode out, and rode so
long till that he came to the sea. And on the strand he
found a ship covered all with white samite, and he alighted,
and betook him to Jesu Christ. And as soon as he entered
into the ship, the ship departed into the sea, and went so
fast that him seemed the ship went flying, but it was soon
dark so that he might know no man, and so he slept till
it was day. Then he awaked, and saw in midst of the
ship a knight lie all armed save his helm. Then knew he
that it was Sir Percivale of Wales, and then he made of
him right great joy; but Sir Percivale was abashed of him,
and he asked him what he was. Ah, fair sir, said Bors,
know ye me not? Certes, said he, I marvel how ye came
hither, but if Our Lord brought ye hither Himself. Then
Sir Bors smiled and did off his helm. Then Percivale
knew him, and either made great joy of other, that it was
marvel to hear. Then Bors told him how he came into
the ship, and by whose admonishment; and either told
other of their temptations, as ye have heard to-forehand.
So went they downward in the sea, one while backward,
another while forward, and everych comforted other, and
oft were in their prayers. Then said Sir Percivale: We
lack nothing but Galahad, the good knight.

Gawaine, Ector de Maris, and Sir Bors de Ganis,
and Sir Percivale. And here followeth the seven-
teenth book, which is of the noble knight Sir
Galahad.>

BOOK XVII

CHAPTER I

How Sir Galahad fought at a tournament, and how he was
known of Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris.

NOW saith this story, when Galahad had rescued Percivale
from the twenty knights, he yede tho into a waste forest
wherein he rode many journeys; and he found many
adventures the which he brought to an end, whereof the
story maketh here no mention. Then he took his way
to the sea on a day, and it befell as he passed by a castle
where was a wonder tournament, but they without had
done so much that they within were put to the worse, yet
were they within good knights enough. When Galahad
saw that those within were at so great a mischief that men
slew them at the entry of the castle, then he thought to
help them, and put a spear forth and smote the first that
he fell to the earth, and the spear brake to pieces. Then
he drew his sword and smote thereas they were thickest,
and so he did wonderful deeds of arms that all they
marvelled. Then it happed that Gawaine and Sir Ector
de Maris were with the knights without. But when they
espied the white shield with the red cross the one said to
the other: Yonder is the good knight, Sir Galahad, the
haut prince: now he should be a great fool which should
meet with him to fight. So by adventure he came by Sir
Gawaine, and he smote him so hard that he clave his helm
and the coif of iron unto his head, so that Gawaine fell
to the earth; but the stroke was so great that it slanted
down to the earth and carved the horse's shoulder in two.

When Ector saw Gawaine down he drew him aside,
and thought it no wisdom for to abide him, and also for
natural love, that he was his uncle. Thus through his
great hardiness he beat aback all the knights without.
And then they within came out and chased them all
about. But when Galahad saw there would none turn
again he stole away privily, so that none wist where he was
become. Now by my head, said Gawaine to Ector, now
are the wonders true that were said of Launcelot du Lake,
that the sword which stuck in the stone should give me
such a buffet that I would not have it for the best castle
in this world; and soothly now it is proved true, for
never ere had I such a stroke of man's hand. Sir, said
Ector, meseemeth your quest is done. And yours is not
done, said Gawaine, but mine is done, I shall seek no
further. Then Gawaine was borne into a castle and unarmed
him, and laid him in a rich bed, and a leech found
that he might live, and to be whole within a month.
Thus Gawaine and Ector abode together, for Sir Ector
would not away till Gawaine were whole.

And the good knight, Galahad, rode so long till he
came that night to the Castle of Carboneck; and it befell
him thus that he was benighted in an hermitage. So the
good man was fain when he saw he was a knight-errant.
Tho when they were at rest there came a gentlewoman
knocking at the door, and called Galahad, and so the good
man came to the door to wit what she would. Then she
called the hermit: Sir Ulfin, I am a gentlewoman that
would speak with the knight which is with you. Then
the good man awaked Galahad, and bade him: Arise, and
speak with a gentlewoman that seemeth hath great need
of you. Then Galahad went to her and asked her what
she would. Galahad, said she, I will that ye arm you,
and mount upon your horse and follow me, for I shall
show you within these three days the highest adventure
that ever any knight saw. Anon Galahad armed him, and
took his horse, and commended him to God, and bade the
gentlewoman go, and he would follow thereas she liked.

CHAPTER II

How Sir Galahad rode with a damosel, and came to the ship
whereas Sir Bors and Sir Percivale were in.

SO she rode as fast as her palfrey might bear her, till that
she came to the sea, the which was called Collibe. And
at the night they came unto a castle in a valley, closed
with a running water, and with strong walls and high;
and so she entered into the castle with Galahad, and there
had he great cheer, for the lady of that castle was the
damosel's lady. So when he was unarmed, then said the
damosel: Madam, shall we abide here all this day? Nay,
said she, but till he hath dined and till he hath slept a
little. So he ate and slept a while till that the maid called
him, and armed him by torchlight. And when the maid
was horsed and he both, the lady took Galahad a fair child
and rich; and so they departed from the castle till they
came to the seaside; and there they found the ship where
Bors and Percivale were in, the which cried on the ship's
board: Sir Galahad, ye be welcome, we have abiden you
long. And when he heard them he asked them what they
were. Sir, said she, leave your horse here, and I shall
leave mine; and took their saddles and their bridles with
them, and made a cross on them, and so entered into the
ship. And the two knights received them both with great
joy, and everych knew other; and so the wind arose, and
drove them through the sea in a marvellous pace. And
within a while it dawned.

Then did Galahad off his helm and his sword, and
asked of his fellows from whence came that fair ship.
Truly, said they, ye wot as well as we, but of God's grace;
and then they told everych to other of all their hard
adventures, and of their great temptations. Truly, said
Galahad, ye are much bounden to God, for ye have escaped
great adventures; and had not the gentlewoman been I
had not come here, for as for you I weened never to have
found you in these strange countries. Ah Galahad, said
Bors, if Launcelot, your father, were here then were we
well at ease, for then meseemed we failed nothing. That
may not be, said Galahad, but if it pleased Our Lord.

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 an
thou fail I shall not help thee. Then said the gentlewoman:
Percivale, wot ye what I am? Certes, said he,
nay, to my witting. Wit ye well, said she, that I am thy
sister, which am daughter of King Pellinore, and therefore
wit ye well ye are the man in the world that I most love;
and if ye be not in perfect belief of Jesu Christ enter not
in no manner of wise, for then should ye perish the ship,
for he is so perfect he will suffer no sinner in him. When
Percivale understood that she was his very sister he was
inwardly glad, and said: Fair sister, I shall enter therein,
for if I be a miscreature or an untrue knight there shall I
perish.

CHAPTER III

How Sir Galahad entered into the ship, and of a fair bed
therein, with other marvellous things, and of a sword.

IN the meanwhile Galahad blessed him, and entered therein;
and then next the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bors and Sir
Percivale. And when they were in, it was so marvellous
fair and rich that they marvelled; and in midst of the
ship was a fair bed, and 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
colours that any man might find, and everych of the
colours 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
Euphrates; 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 begrip him at the
handles but one; but he shall pass all other. In the name
of God, said Percivale, I shall assay to handle it. So he
set his hand to the sword, but he might not begrip it.
By my faith, said he, now have I failed. Bors set his
hand thereto and failed.

Then Galahad beheld the sword and saw letters like
blood that said: Let see who shall assay to draw me out
of my sheath, but if he be more hardier than any 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 sirs, said the gentlewoman,
wit ye well that the drawing of this sword is warned to
all men save all only to you. Also this ship arrived in
the realm of Logris; 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 afterward 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 afeard 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
sithen increased neither 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 that
dolorous stroke. And when King Hurlame saw this
sword so carving, he turned again to fetch the scabbard,
and so came into this ship and entered, and put up the
sword in the sheath. And as soon as he had done it
he fell down dead afore the bed. Thus was the sword
proved, that none ne drew it but he were dead or maimed.
So lay he there till a maiden came into the ship and cast
him out, for there was no man so hardy of the world to
enter into that ship for the defence.

CHAPTER IV

Of the marvels of the sword and of the scabbard.

AND then beheld they the scabbard, it seemed to be of a
serpent's skin, and thereon were letters of gold and silver.
And the girdle was but poorly to come to, and not able
to sustain such a rich sword. And the letters said: He
which shall wield me sought to be more harder than any
other, if he bear me as truly as me ought to be borne.
For the body of him which I ought to hang by, he shall
not be shamed in no place while he is girt with this girdle,
nor never none be so hardy to do away this girdle; for
it ought not be done away but by the hands of a maid,
and that she be a king's daughter and queen's, and she
must be a maid all the days of her life, both in will and in
deed. And if she break her virginity she shall die the
most villainous death that ever died any woman. Sir, said
Percivale, turn this sword that we may see what is on the
other side. And it was red as blood, with black letters as
any coal, which said: He that shall praise me most, most
shall he find me to blame at a great need; and to whom I
should be most debonair shall I be most felon, and that
shall be at one time.

Fair brother, said she to Percivale, it befell after a
forty year after the passion of Jesu Christ that Nacien, the
brother-in-law of King Mordrains, was borne into a town
more than fourteen days' journey from his country, by the
commandment of Our Lord, into an isle, into the parts of
the West, that men cleped the Isle of Turnance. So befell
it that he found this ship at the entry of a rock, and he
found the bed and this sword as we have heard now. Not
for then he had not so much hardiness to draw it; and
there he dwelled an eight days, and at the ninth day there
fell a great wind which departed him out of the isle, and
brought him to another isle by a rock, and there he found
the greatest giant that ever man might see. Therewith
came that horrible giant to slay him; and then he looked
about him and might not flee, and he had nothing to
defend him with. So he ran to his sword, and when he
saw it naked he praised it much, and then he shook it,
and therewith he brake it in the midst. Ah, said Nacien,
the thing that I most praised ought I now most to blame,
and therewith he threw the pieces of his sword over his
bed. And after he leapt over the board to fight with the
giant, and slew him.

And anon he entered into the ship again, and the wind
arose, and drove him through the sea, that by adventure
he came to another ship where King Mordrains was, which
had been tempted full evil with a fiend in the Port of
Perilous Rock. And when that one saw the other they
made great joy of other, and either told other of their
adventure, and how the sword failed him at his most need
When Mordrains saw the sword he praised it much: But
the breaking was not to do but by wickedness of thy
selfward, for thou art in some sin. And there he took the
sword, and set the pieces together, and they soldered as
fair as ever they were to-fore; and there put he the sword
in the sheath, and laid it down on the bed. Then heard
they a voice that said: Go out of this ship a little while,
and enter into the other, for dread ye fall in deadly sin,
for and ye be found in deadly sin ye may not escape but
perish: and so they went into the other ship. And as
Nacien went over the board he was smitten with a sword
on the right foot, that he fell down noseling to the ship's
board; and therewith he said: O God, how am I hurt.
And then there came a voice and said: Take thou that
for thy forfeit that thou didst in drawing of this sword,
therefore thou receivest a wound, for thou were never
worthy to handle it, as the writing maketh mention. In
the name of God, said Galahad, ye are right wise of these
works.

CHAPTER V

How King Pelles was smitten through both thighs because he
drew the sword, and other marvellous histories.

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 him through both the
thighs, and never sith might he be healed, nor nought
shall to-fore we come to him. Thus, said she, was not
King Pelles, your grandsire, maimed for his hardiness?
In the name of God, damosel, 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 colours were the spindles, and of
natural colour within, and without any painting. These
spindles, said the damosel, 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 on. 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 for she had no coffer to keep it
in, she put it in the earth. 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 was a token a maiden planted it. But after God
came to Adam, and bade him know his wife fleshly as
nature required. So lay Adam with his wife under the
same tree; and anon the tree which was white was full
green as any grass, and all that came out of it; and in
the same time that they medled together there was Abel
begotten: thus was the tree long of green colour. And
so it befell many days after, under the same tree Caym
slew Abel, whereof befell great marvel. For anon as
Abel had received the death under the green tree, it lost
the green colour and became red; and that was in tokening
of the blood. And anon all the plants died thereof,
but the tree grew and waxed marvellously fair, and it was
the fairest tree and the most delectable that any man might
behold and see; and so died the plants that grew out of
it to-fore that Abel was slain under it. So long dured
the tree till that Solomon, King David's son, reigned, and
held the land after his father. This Solomon was wise
and knew all the virtues of stones and trees, and so he
knew the course of the stars, and many other divers things.
This Solomon had an evil wife, wherethrough he weened
that there had been no good woman, and so he despised
them in his books. So answered a voice him once:
Solomon, if heaviness come to a man by a woman, ne
reck thou never; for yet shall there come a woman
whereof there shall come greater joy to man an hundred
times more than this heaviness giveth sorrow; and that
woman shall be born of thy lineage. Tho 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 yerde
of his lineage. Nay, said the voice, but there shall come
a man which shall be a maid, and the last of your blood,
and he shall be as good a knight as Duke Josua, thy
brother-in-law.

CHAPTER VI

How Solomon took David's sword by the counsel of his
wife, and of other matters marvellous.

NOW have I certified thee of that thou stoodest 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 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 knights of chivalry which
have been to-fore him and shall come after him, moreover
I shall tell you, said she, ye shall go into Our Lord's
temple, where is King David's sword, your father, the
which is the marvelloust and the 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 subtly 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
ye have made all this I shall let make a girdle thereto, such
as shall please me.

All this King Solomon did let make as she devised,
both the ship and all the remnant. And when the ship
was ready in the sea 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 feet, and the
girdles were of hemp, and therewith the king was angry.
Sir, wit ye well, said she, that I have none so high a thing
which were worthy to sustain so high 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 should never rot for
no manner of weather. Yet went that lady and made a
carpenter to come to the 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 he, this is the
tree the which our first mother planted. Do it, said she,
or else I shall destroy thee. Anon as he 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 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 upon the selar of the bed. When
Solomon saw this, he said to his wife: Ye have done
marvellously, for though all the world were here right
now, he could not devise 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. Now shall ye hear
a wonderful tale of King Solomon and his wife.

CHAPTER VII

A wonderful tale of King Solomon and his wife.

THAT night lay Solomon before the ship with little
fellowship. And when he was asleep 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 sprent 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 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 saith the history that a great while the three
fellows beheld the bed and the three spindles. Then they
were at certain that they were of natural colours without
painting. Then they lift up a cloth which was above the
ground, and there found a rich purse by seeming. And
Percivale 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 Percivale's
sister, dismay you not, for by the leave of God I shall let
make a girdle to the sword, such one as shall long thereto.
And then she opened a box, and took out girdles which
were seemly wrought with golden threads, and upon that
were set full precious stones, and a rich buckle of gold.
Lo, lords, said she, here is a girdle that ought to be set
about the sword. And wit ye well the greatest part of
this girdle was made of my hair, which I loved well while
that 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 be well
found, said Sir Bors, for certes ye have put us out of great
pain, wherein we should have entered ne had your tidings
been.

Then went the gentlewoman and set it on the girdle of
the sword. Now, said the fellowship, what is the 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 sheath, Mover of Blood; for no man that hath
blood in him ne shall never see the one part of the sheath
which was made of the Tree of Life. Then they said to
Galahad: In the name of Jesu Christ, and pray you that
ye gird you with this sword which hath been desired so
much in the realm of Logris. Now let me begin, said
Galahad, to grip this sword for to give you courage; but
wit ye well it longeth no more to me than it doth to you.
And then he gripped about it with his fingers a great deal;
and then she girt 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 the worthiest
knight of the world. Damosel, said 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 to the other.
And anon the wind drove them into the sea a great pace,
but they had no victuals: but it befell that they came on
the morn to a castle that men call Carteloise, that was in
the marches of Scotland. And when they had passed the
port, the gentlewoman said: Lords, here be men arriven
that, an they wist that ye were of King Arthur's court, ye
should be assailed anon. Damosel, said Galahad, He that
cast us out of the rock shall deliver us from them.

CHAPTER VIII

How Galahad and his fellows came to a castle, and how they
were fought withal, and how they slew their adversaries,
and other matters.

SO it befell as they spoke thus there came a squire by them,
and asked what they were; and they said they were of
King Arthur's house. Is that sooth? said he. Now by
my head, said he, ye be ill arrayed; and then turned he
again unto the cliff fortress. And within a while they
heard an horn blow. Then a gentlewoman came to them,
and asked them of whence they were; and they told her.
Fair lords, said she, for God's love turn again if ye may,
for ye be come unto your death. Nay, they said, we will
not turn again, for He shall help us in whose service we be
entered in. Then as they stood talking there came knights
well armed, and bade them yield them or else to die. That
yielding, said they, shall be noyous to you. And therewith
they let their horses run, and Sir Percivale smote the
foremost to the earth, and took his horse, and mounted
thereupon, and the same did Galahad. Also Bors served
another so, for they had no horses in that country, for they
left their horses when they took their ship in other countries.
And so when they were horsed then began they to
set upon them; and they of the castle fled into the strong
fortress, and the three knights after them into the castle,
and so alighted on foot, and with their swords slew them
down, and gat into the hall.

Then when they beheld the great multitude of people
that they had slain, they held themself great sinners.
Certes, said Bors, I ween an God had loved them that we
should not have had power to have slain them thus. But
they have done so much against Our Lord that He would
not suffer them to reign no longer. Say ye not so, said
Galahad, for if they misdid against God, the vengeance is
not ours, but to Him which hath power thereof.

So came there out of a chamber a good man which was
a priest, and bare God's body in a cup. And when he saw
them which lay dead in the hall he was all abashed; and
Galahad did off his helm and kneeled down, and so did his
two fellows. Sir, said they, have ye no dread of us, for
we be of King Arthur's court. Then asked the good man
how they were slain so suddenly, and they told it him.
Truly, said the good man, an ye might live as long as the
world might endure, ne might ye have done so great an
alms-deed as this. Sir, said Galahad, I repent me much,
inasmuch as they were christened. Nay, repent you not,
said he, for they were not christened, and I shall tell you
how that I wot of this castle. Here was Lord Earl Hernox
not but one year, and he had three sons, good knights of
arms, and a daughter, the fairest gentlewoman that men
knew. So those three knights loved their sister so sore
that they brent in love, and so they lay by her, maugre her
head. And for she cried to her father they slew her, and
took their father and put him in prison, and wounded him
nigh to the death, but a cousin of hers rescued him. And
then did they great untruth: they slew clerks and priests,
and made beat down chapels, that Our Lord's service might
not be served nor said. And this same day her father sent
to me for to be confessed and houseled; but such shame
had never man as I had this day with the three brethren,
but the earl bade me suffer, for he said they should not
long endure, for three servants of Our Lord should destroy
them, and now it is brought to an end. And by this may
ye wit that Our Lord is not displeased with your deeds.
Certes, said Galahad, an it had not pleased Our Lord, never
should we have slain so many men in so little a while.

And then they brought the Earl Hernox out of prison
into the midst of the hall, that knew Galahad anon, and yet
he saw him never afore but by revelation of Our Lord.

CHAPTER IX

How the three knights, with Percivale's sister, came unto
the same forest, and of an hart and four lions, and
other things.

THEN began he to weep right tenderly, and said: Long
have I abiden your coming, but for God's love hold me in
your arms, that my soul may depart out of my body in so
good a man's arms as ye be. Gladly, said Galahad. And
then one said on high, that all heard: Galahad, well hast
thou avenged me on God's enemies. Now behoveth thee
to go to the Maimed King as soon as thou mayest, for he
shall receive by thee health which he hath abiden so long.
And therewith the soul departed from the body, and
Galahad made him to be buried as him ought to be.

Right so departed the three knights, and Percivale's
sister with them. And so they came into a waste forest,
and there they saw afore them a white hart which four
lions led. Then they took them to assent for to follow
after for to know whither they repaired; and so they rode
after a great pace till that they came to a valley, and thereby
was an hermitage where a good man dwelled, and the hart
and the lions entered also. So when they saw all this they
turned to the chapel, and saw the good man in a religious
weed and in the armour of Our Lord, for he would sing
mass of the Holy Ghost; and so they entered in and heard
mass. And at the secrets of the mass they three saw the
hart become a man, the which marvelled them, and set him
upon the altar in a rich siege; and saw the four lions were
changed, the one to the form of a man, the other to the
form of a lion, and the third to an eagle, and the fourth
was changed unto an ox. Then took they their siege
where the hart sat, and went out through a glass window,
and there was nothing perished nor broken; and they heard
a voice say: In such a manner entered the Son of God in
the womb of a maid Mary, whose virginity ne was perished
ne hurt. And when they heard these words they fell down
to the earth and were astonied; and therewith was a great
clearness.

And when they were come to theirself again they went
to the good man and prayed him that he would say them
truth. What thing have ye seen? said he. And they told
him all that they had seen. Ah lords, said he, ye be welcome;
now wot I well ye be the good knights the which
shall bring the Sangreal to an end; for ye be they unto
whom Our Lord shall shew great secrets. And well ought
Our Lord be signified to an hart, for the hart when he is
old he waxeth young again in his white skin. Right so
cometh again Our Lord from death to life, for He lost
earthly flesh that was the deadly flesh, which He had taken
in the womb of the blessed Virgin Mary; and for that cause
appeared Our Lord as a white hart without spot. And
the four that were with Him is to understand the four
evangelists which set in writing a part of Jesu Christ's
deeds that He did sometime when He was among you an
earthly man; for wit ye well never erst ne might no knight
know the truth, for ofttimes or this Our Lord showed Him
unto good men and unto good knights, in likeness of an
hart, but I suppose from henceforth ye shall see no more.
And then they joyed much, and dwelled there all that day.
And upon the morrow when they had heard mass they
departed and commended the good man to God: and so
they came to a castle and passed by. So there came a
knight armed after them and said: Lords, hark what I shall
say to you.

CHAPTER X

How they were desired of a strange custom, the which they
would not obey; wherefore they fought and slew many
knights.

THIS gentlewoman that ye lead with you is a maid?
Sir, said she, a maid I am. Then he took her by the
bridle and said: By the Holy Cross, ye shall not escape
me to-fore ye have yolden the custom of this castle. Let
her go, said Percivale, ye be not wise, for a maid in what
place she cometh is free. So in the meanwhile there came
out a ten or twelve knights armed, out of the castle, and
with them came gentlewomen which held a dish of silver.
And then they said: This gentlewoman must yield us
the custom of this castle. Sir, said a knight, what maid
passeth hereby shall give this dish full of blood of her
right arm. Blame have ye, said Galahad, that brought
up such customs, and so God me save, I ensure you of
this gentlewoman ye shall fail while that I live. So God
me help, said Percivale, I had liefer be slain. And I also,
said Sir Bors. By my troth, said the knight, then shall
ye die, for ye may not endure against us though ye were
the best knights of the world.

Then let they run each to other, and the three fellows
beat the ten knights, and then set their hands to their
swords and beat them down and slew them. Then there
came out of the castle a three score knights armed. Fair
lords, said the three fellows, have mercy on yourself and
have not ado with us. Nay, fair lords, said the knights
of the castle, we counsel you to withdraw you, for ye be
the best knights of the world, and therefore do no more,
for ye have done enough. We will let you go with this
harm, but we must needs have the custom. Certes, said
Galahad, for nought speak ye. Well, said they, will ye die?
We be not yet come thereto, said Galahad. Then began
they to meddle together, and Galahad, with the strange
girdles, drew his sword, and smote on the right hand and
on the left hand, and slew what that ever abode him, and
did such marvels that there was none that saw him but
weened he had been none earthly man, but a monster.
And his two fellows halp him passing well, and so they
held the journey everych in like hard till it was night:
then must they needs depart.

So came in a good knight, and said to the three
fellows: If ye will come in to-night and take such harbour
as here is ye shall be right welcome, and we shall ensure
you by the faith of our bodies, and as we be true knights,
to leave you in such estate to-morrow as we find you,
without any falsehood. And as soon as ye know of the
custom we dare say ye will accord therefore. For God's
love, said the gentlewoman, go thither and spare not for
me. Go we, said Galahad; and so they entered into the
chapel. And when they were alighted they made great
joy of them. So within a while the three knights asked
the custom of the castle and wherefore it was. What it
is, said they, we will say you sooth.

CHAPTER XI

How Sir Percivale's sister bled a dish full of blood for to
heal a lady, wherefore she died; and how that the
body was put in a ship.

THERE is in this castle a gentlewoman which we and this
castle is hers, and many other. So it befell many years
agone there fell upon her a malady; and when she had
lain a great while she fell unto a measle, and of no leech
she could have no remedy. But at the last an old man
said an she might have a dish full of blood of a maid and
a clean virgin in will and in work, and a king's daughter,
that blood should be her health, and for to anoint her
withal; and for this thing was this custom made. Now,
said Percivale's sister, fair knights, I see well that this
gentlewoman is but dead. Certes, said Galahad, an ye
bleed so much ye may die. Truly, said she, an I die for
to heal her I shall get me great worship and soul's health,
and worship to my lineage, and better is one harm than
twain. And therefore there shall be no more battle, but
to-morn I shall yield you your custom of this castle. And
then there was great joy more than there was to-fore, for
else had there been mortal war upon the morn; notwithstanding
she would none other, whether they wold or nold.

That night were the three fellows eased with the best;
and on the morn they heard mass, and Sir Percivale's
sister bade bring forth the sick lady. So she was, the
which was evil at ease. Then said she: Who shall let
me blood? So one came forth and let her blood, and she
bled so much that the dish was full. Then she lift up
her hand and blessed her; and then she said to the lady:
Madam, I am come to the death for to make you whole,
for God's love pray for me. With that she fell in a
swoon. Then Galahad and his two fellows start up to
her, and lift her up and staunched her, but she had bled
so much that she might not live. Then she said when
she was awaked: Fair brother Percivale, I die for the
healing of this lady, so I require you that ye bury me
not in this country, but as soon as I am dead put me in
a boat at the next haven, and let me go as adventure will
lead me; and as soon as ye three come to the City of
Sarras, there to enchieve the Holy Grail, ye shall find me
under a tower arrived, and there bury me in the spiritual
place; for I say you so much, there Galahad shall be
buried, and ye also, in the same place.

Then Percivale understood these words, and granted
it her, weeping. And then said a voice: Lords and
fellows, to-morrow at the hour of prime ye three shall
depart everych from other, till the adventure bring you
to the Maimed King. Then asked she her Saviour; and
as soon as she had received it the soul departed from the
body. So the same day was the lady healed, when she
was anointed withal. Then Sir Percivale made a letter of
all that she had holpen them as in strange adventures, and
put it in her right hand, and so laid her in a barge, and
covered it with black silk; and so the wind arose, and
drove the barge from the land, and all knights beheld it
till it was out of their sight. Then they drew all to the
castle, and so forthwith there fell a sudden tempest and a
thunder, lightning, and rain, as all the earth would have
broken. So half the castle turned up-so-down. So it
passed evensong or the tempest was ceased.

Then they saw afore them a knight armed and
wounded hard in the body and in the head, that said: O
God, succour me for now it is need. After this knight
came another knight and a dwarf, which cried to them
afar: Stand, ye may not escape. Then the wounded knight
held up his hands to God that he should not die in such
tribulation. Truly, said Galahad, I shall succour him for
His sake that he calleth upon. Sir, said Bors, I shall do
it, for it is not for you, for he is but one knight. Sir, said
he, I grant. So Sir Bors took his horse, and commended
him to God, and rode after, to rescue the wounded knight.
Now turn we to the two fellows.

CHAPTER XII

How Galahad and Percivale found in a castle many tombs
of maidens that had bled to death.

NOW saith the story that all night Galahad and Percivale
were in a chapel in their prayers, for to save Sir Bors. So
on the morrow they dressed them in their harness toward
the castle, to wit what was fallen of them therein. And
when they came there they found neither man nor woman
that he ne was dead by the vengeance of Our Lord.
With that they heard a voice that said: This vengeance
is for blood-shedding of maidens. Also they found at the
end of the chapel a churchyard, and therein might they
see a three score fair tombs, and that place was so fair and
so delectable that it seemed them there had been none
tempest, for there lay the bodies of all the good maidens
which were martyred for the sick lady's sake. Also they
found the names of everych, and of what blood they were
come, and all were of kings' blood, and twelve of them
were kings' daughters. Then they departed and went
into a forest. Now, said Percivale unto Galahad, we
must depart, so pray we Our Lord that we may meet
together in short time: then they did off their helms and
kissed together, and wept at their departing.

CHAPTER XIII

How Sir Launcelot entered into the ship where Sir Percivale's
sister lay dead, and how he met with Sir Galahad,
his son.

NOW saith the history, that when Launcelot was come to
the water of Mortoise, as it is rehearsed before, he was in
great peril, and so he laid him down and slept, and took
the 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 armour, and enter into the first
ship that thou shalt find. And when he heard these words
he start up and saw great clearness about him. And then
he lift up his hand and blessed him, and so took his arms
and made him ready; and so by adventure he came by a
strand, and found a ship the which was without sail or oar.
And as soon as he was within the ship there he felt the
most sweetness that ever he felt, and he was fulfilled with
all thing that he thought on or desired. Then he said:
Fair sweet Father, Jesu Christ, I wot not in what joy
I am, for this joy passeth all earthly joys that ever I was
in. And so in this joy he laid him down to the ship's
board, and slept till day. And when he awoke he found
there a fair bed, and therein lying a gentlewoman dead,
the which was Sir Percivale's sister. And as Launcelot
devised her, he espied in her right hand a writ, the which
he read, the which told him all the adventures that ye
have heard to-fore, and of what lineage she was come. So
with this gentlewoman Sir Launcelot was a month and
more. If ye would ask how he lived, He that fed the
people of Israel with manna in the desert, so was he fed;
for every day when he had said his prayers he was sustained
with the grace of the Holy Ghost.

So on a night he went to play him by the water 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 thereas 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 kin
would, the which is no need here to be rehearsed. And
there everych 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, 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 hilt, and the
scabbard. Truly, said Launcelot, never erst knew I of so
high adventures done, and so marvellous and strange.
So dwelt 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; but for those adventures were with
wild beasts, and not in the quest of the Sangreal, therefore
the tale maketh here no mention thereof, for it would be
too long to tell of all those adventures that befell them.

CHAPTER XIV

How a knight brought unto Sir Galahad a horse, and bade
him come from his father, Sir Launcelot.

SO after, on a Monday, it befell that they arrived in the
edge of a forest to-fore a cross; and then saw they a
knight armed all in white, and was richly horsed, and led
in his right hand a white horse; and so he came to the
ship, and saluted the two knights on the High Lord's
behalf, and said: Galahad, sir, ye have been long enough
with your father, come out of the ship, and start upon
this horse, and go where the adventures shall lead thee in
the quest of the Sangreal. Then he went to his father
and kissed him sweetly, and said: Fair sweet father, I wot
not when I shall see you more till I see the body of Jesu
Christ. I pray you, said Launcelot, pray ye to the High
Father that He hold me in His service. And so he took
his horse, and there they heard a voice that said: Think
for to do well, for the one shall never see the other before
the dreadful day of doom. Now, son Galahad, said
Launcelot, since we shall depart, and never see other, I
pray to the High Father to conserve me and you both.
Sir, said Galahad, no prayer availeth so much as yours
And therewith Galahad entered into the forest.

And the wind arose, and drove Launcelot more than a
month throughout the sea, where he slept but little, but
prayed to God that he might see some tidings of the
Sangreal. 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 toward 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 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 heard he a voice say:
O man of evil faith and poor belief, wherefore trowest
thou more on thy harness than in thy Maker, for He
might more avail thee than thine armour, in whose
service that thou art set. Then said Launcelot: Fair
Father Jesu Christ, I thank thee of Thy great mercy that
Thou reprovest me of my misdeed; now see I well that
ye hold me for your servant. Then took he again his
sword and put it up in his sheath, and made a cross in his
forehead, and came to the lions, and they made semblaunt
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.

CHAPTER XV

How Sir Launcelot was to-fore the door of the chamber
wherein the Holy Sangreal was.

THEN he enforced him mickle to undo the door. Then
he listened and heard a voice which sang so sweetly that
it seemed none earthly thing; and him thought the voice
said: Joy and honour be to the Father of Heaven. Then
Launcelot kneeled down to-fore the chamber, for well
wist he that there was the Sangreal within that chamber.
Then said he: Fair sweet Father, Jesu Christ, if ever I
did thing that pleased Thee, Lord for Thy pity never
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 for-think 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,
whereof one held a candle of wax burning, and the other
held a cross, and the ornaments of an altar. And before
the Holy Vessel he saw a good man clothed as a priest.
And it seemed that he was at the sacring of the mass. And
it seemed to Launcelot that above the priest's hands were
three men, whereof the two put the youngest by likeness
between the priest's hands; and so he lift it up right high,
and it seemed to show so to the people. And then
Launcelot marvelled not a little, for him thought the
priest was so greatly charged of the figure that him
seemed that he should fall to the earth. And when he
saw none about him that would help him, then came he to
the door a great pace, and said: Fair Father Jesu Christ,
ne take it for no sin though I help the good man which
hath great need of help.

Right so entered he into the chamber, and came
toward the table of silver; and when he came nigh he felt
a breath, that him thought it was intermeddled with fire,
which smote him so sore in the visage that him thought it
brent his visage; and therewith he fell to the earth, and
had no power to arise, as he that was so araged, that had
lost the power of his body, and his hearing, and his seeing.
Then felt he many hands about him, which took him up
and bare him out of the chamber door, without any
amending of his swoon, and left him there, seeming dead
to all people.

So upon the morrow when it was fair day they within
were arisen, and found Launcelot lying afore the chamber
door. All they marvelled how that he came in, and so
they looked upon him, and felt his pulse to wit whether
there were any life in him; and so they found life in him,
but he might not stand nor stir no member that he had.
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; and so he lay four days. Then the one
said he was alive, and the other said, Nay. In the name
of God, said an old man, for I do you verily to wit he is
not dead, but he is so full of life as the mightiest of you
all; and therefore I counsel you that he be well kept till
God send him life again.

CHAPTER XVI

How Sir launcelot had lain four-and-twenty days and as
many nights as a dead man, and other divers matters.

IN such manner they kept Launcelot four-and-twenty
days and all so many nights, that ever he lay still as a
dead man; and at the twenty-fifth day befell him after
midday that he opened his eyes. And when he saw folk
he made great sorrow, and said: Why have ye awaked
me, for I was more at ease than I am now. O Jesu
Christ, who might be so blessed that might see openly
thy great marvels of secretness there where no sinner may
be! What have ye seen? said they about him. I
have seen, said he, so great marvels that no tongue may
tell, and more than any heart can think, and had not my
son been here afore me I had seen much more.

Then they told him how he had lain there four-and-twenty
days and nights. Then him thought it was
punishment for the four-and-twenty years that he had
been a sinner, wherefore Our Lord put him in penance
four-and-twenty days and nights. Then looked Sir
Launcelot afore him, and saw the hair which he had
borne nigh a year, for that he for-thought him right
much that he had broken his promise unto the hermit,
which he had avowed to do. Then they asked how it
stood with him. Forsooth, said he, I am whole of body,
thanked be Our Lord; therefore, sirs, for God's love tell
me where I am. Then said they all that he was in the
castle of Carbonek.

Therewith came a gentlewoman and brought him
a shirt of small linen cloth, but he changed not there,
but took the hair to him again. Sir, said they, the
quest of the Sangreal is achieved now right in you, that
never shall ye see of the Sangreal no more than ye have
seen. Now I thank God, said Launcelot, of His great
mercy of that I have seen, for it sufficeth me; for as I
suppose no man in this world hath lived better than I
have done to enchieve that I have done. And therewith
he took the hair and clothed him in it, and above that he
put a linen shirt, and after a robe of scarlet, fresh and
new. And when he was so arrayed they marvelled all,
for they knew him that he was Launcelot, the good
knight. And then they said all: O my lord Sir Launcelot,
be that ye? And he said: Truly I am he.

Then came word to King Pelles that the knight that
had lain so long dead was Sir Launcelot. Then was the
king right glad, and went to see him. And when Launcelot
saw him come he dressed him against him, and there
made the king great joy of him. And there the king
told him tidings that his fair daughter was dead. Then
Launcelot was right heavy of it, and said: Sir, me
forthinketh the death of your daughter, for she was a full
fair lady, fresh and young. And well I wot she bare the
best knight that is now on the earth, or that ever was sith
God was born. So the king held him there four days,
and on the morrow he took his leave at King Pelles
and at all the fellowship, and thanked them of their great
labour.

Right so as they sat at their dinner in the chief salle,
then was so befallen that the Sangreal had fulfilled the table
with all manner of meats that any heart might think. So
as they sat they saw all the doors and the windows of the
place were shut without man's hand, whereof they were
all abashed, and none wist what to do.

And then it happed suddenly a knight came to the
chief door and knocked, and cried: Undo the door. But
they would not. And ever he cried: Undo; but they
would not. And at last it noyed them so much that
the king himself arose and came to a window there where
the knight called. Then he said: Sir knight, ye shall
not enter at this time while the Sangreal is here, and
therefore go into another; for certes ye be none of the
knights of the quest, but one of them which hath served
the fiend, and hast left the service of Our Lord: and he
was passing wroth at the king's words. Sir knight, said
the king, sith ye would so fain enter, say me of what
country ye be. Sir, said he, I am of the realm of Logris,
and my name is Ector de Maris, and brother unto my
lord, Sir Launcelot. In the name of God, said the king,
me for-thinketh of what I have said, for your brother is
here within. And when Ector de Maris understood that
his brother was there, for he was the man in the world
that he most dread and loved, and then he said: Ah God,
now doubleth my sorrow and shame. Full truly said the
good man of the hill unto Gawaine and to me of our
dreams. Then went he out of the court as fast as his
horse might, and so throughout the castle.

CHAPTER XVII

How Sir Launcelot returned towards Logris, and of other
adventures which he saw in the way.

THEN King Pelles came to Sir Launcelot and told him
tidings of his brother, whereof he was sorry, that he wist
not what to do. So Sir Launcelot departed, and took his
arms, and said he would go see the realm of Logris,
which I have not seen in twelve months. And there
with he commended the king to God, and so rode through
many realms. And at the last he came to a white abbey,
and there they made him that night great cheer; and on
the morn he rose and heard mass. And afore an altar
he found a rich tomb, which was newly made; and then
he took heed, and saw the sides written with gold which
said: Here lieth King Bagdemagus of Gore, which King
Arthur's nephew slew; and named him, Sir Gawaine.
Then was not he a little sorry, for Launcelot loved him
much more than any other, and had it been any other
than Gawaine he should not have escaped from death to
life; and said to himself: Ah Lord God, this is a great
hurt unto King Arthur's court, the loss of such a man.
And then he departed and came to the abbey where
Galahad did the adventure of the tombs, and won the
white shield with the red cross; and there had he great
cheer all that night.

And on the morn 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, Percivale,
and Bors, which that he knew by the letter of the dead
damosel, 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 leave we this story and speak of Galahad.

CHAPTER XVIII

How Galahad came to King Mordrains, and of other matters
and adventures.

NOW, saith the story, Galahad rode many journeys in
vain. And at the last he came to the abbey where King
Mordrains was, and when he heard that, he thought he
would abide to see him. And upon the morn, when he
had heard mass, Galahad came unto King Mordrains, and
anon the king saw him, which had lain blind of long time.
And then he dressed him against him, and said: Galahad,
the servant of Jesu Christ, whose coming I have abiden
so long, now embrace me and let me rest on thy breast,
so that I may rest between thine arms, for thou art a
clean virgin above all knights, as the flower of the lily in
whom virginity is signified, and thou art the rose the
which is the flower of all good virtues, and in colour of
fire. For the fire of the Holy Ghost is taken so in thee
that my flesh which was all dead of oldness is become young
again. Then Galahad heard his words, then he embraced
him and all his body. Then said he: Fair Lord Jesu
Christ, now I have my will. Now I require thee, in this
point that I am in, thou come and visit me. And anon
Our Lord heard his prayer: therewith the soul departed
from the body.

And then Galahad put him in the earth as a king
ought to be, and so departed and so came into a perilous
forest where he found the well the which boileth with
great waves, as the tale telleth to-fore. And as soon as
Galahad set his hand thereto it ceased, so that it brent no
more, and the heat departed. For that it brent it was a
sign of lechery, the which was that time much used. But
that heat might not abide his pure virginity. And this
was taken in the country for a miracle. And so ever
after was it called Galahad's well.

Then by adventure he came into the country of Gore,
and into the abbey where Launcelot had been to-forehand,
and found the tomb of King Bagdemagus, but he was
founder thereof, Joseph of Aramathie's son; and the tomb
of Simeon where Launcelot had failed. Then he looked into
a croft under the minster, and there he saw a tomb which
brent full marvellously. Then asked he the brethren what
it was. Sir, said they, a marvellous adventure that may
not be brought unto none end but by him that passeth
of bounty and of knighthood all them of the Round
Table. I would, said Galahad, that ye would lead me
thereto. Gladly, said they, and so led him till a cave.
And he went down upon greses, and came nigh the
tomb. And then the flaming failed, and the fire staunched,
the which many a day had been great. Then came there
a voice that said: Much are ye beholden to thank Our
Lord, the which hath given you a good hour, that ye may
draw out the souls of earthly pain, and to put them into
the joys of paradise. I am of your kindred, the which hath
dwelled in this heat this three hundred winter and
four-and-fifty to be purged of the sin that I did against Joseph of
Aramathie. Then Galahad took the body in his arms and
bare it into the minster. And that night lay Galahad in
the abbey; and on the morn he gave him service, and put
him in the earth afore the high altar.

CHAPTER XIX

How Sir Percivale and Sir Bors met with Sir Galahad,
and how they came to the castle of Carbonek, and other
matters.

SO departed he from thence, and commended the brethren
to God; and so he rode five days till that he came to the
Maimed King. And ever followed Percivale the five days,
asking where he had been; and so one told him how the
adventures of Logris were enchieved. So on a day it befell
that they came out of a great forest, and there they met at
traverse with Sir Bors, the which rode alone. It is none
need to tell if they were glad; and them he saluted, and
they yielded him honour and good adventure, and everych
told other. Then said Bors: It is mo than a year and
an half that I ne lay ten times where men dwelled, but in
wild forests and in mountains, but God was ever my
comfort.

Then rode they a great while till that they came to the
castle of Carbonek. And when they were entered within
the castle King Pelles knew them; then there was great
joy, for they wist well by their coming that they had
fulfilled the quest of the Sangreal. Then Eliazar, King
Pelles' son, brought to-fore them the broken sword
wherewith Joseph was stricken through the thigh. Then
Bors set his hand thereto, if that he might have soldered
it again; but it would not be. Then he took it to Percivale,
but he had no more power thereto than he. Now
have ye it again, said Percivale to Galahad, for an it be ever
enchieved by any bodily man ye must do it. And then he
took the pieces and set them together, and they seemed
that they had never been broken, and as well as it had
been first forged. And when they within espied that the
adventure of the sword was enchieved, then they gave the
sword to Bors, for it might not be better set; for he was
a good knight and a worthy man.

And a little afore even the sword arose great and
marvellous, and was full of great heat that many men fell
for dread. And anon alighted a voice among them, and
said: They that ought not to sit at the table of Jesu
Christ arise, for now shall very knights be fed. So they
went thence, all save King Pelles and Eliazar, his son, the
which were holy men, and a maid which was his niece;
and so these three fellows and they three were there, no
mo. Anon they saw knights all armed came in at the
hall door, and did off their helms and their arms, and said
unto Galahad: Sir, we have hied right much for to be
with you at this table where the holy meat shall be
departed. Then said he: Ye be welcome, but of whence
be ye? So three of them said they were of Gaul, and
other three said they were of Ireland, and the other three
said they were of Denmark. So as they sat thus there
came out a bed of tree, of a chamber, the which four
gentlewomen brought; and in the bed lay a good man
sick, and a crown of gold upon his head; and there in the
midst of the place they set him down, and went again
their way. Then he lift up his head, and said: Galahad,
Knight, ye be welcome, for much have I desired your
coming, for in such pain and in such anguish I have been
long. But now I trust to God the term is come that my
pain shall be allayed, that I shall pass out of this world so
as it was promised me long ago. Therewith a voice said:
There be two among you that be not in the quest of the
Sangreal, and therefore depart ye.

CHAPTER XX
How Galahad and his fellows were fed of the Holy Sangreal,
and how Our Lord appeared to them, and other things.

THEN King Pelles and his son departed. And therewithal
beseemed them that there came a man, and four angels
from heaven, clothed in likeness of a bishop, and had a
cross in his hand; and these four angels bare him up in a
chair, and set him down before the table of silver where
upon the Sangreal was; and it seemed that he had in
midst of his forehead letters the which said: See ye here
Joseph, the first bishop of Christendom, the same which Our
Lord succoured in the city of Sarras in the spiritual place.
Then the knights marvelled, for that bishop was dead
more than three hundred year to-fore. O knights, said
he, marvel not, for I was sometime an earthly man.
With that they heard the chamber door open, and there
they saw angels; and two bare candles of wax, and the
third a towel, and the fourth a spear which bled marvellously,
that three drops fell within a box which he held
with his other hand. And they set the candles upon the
table, and the third the towel upon the vessel, and the
fourth the holy spear even upright upon the vessel. And
then the bishop made semblaunt as though he would have
gone to the sacring of the mass. And then he took an
ubblie which was made in likeness of bread. And at the
lifting up there came a figure in likeness of a child, and
the visage was as red and as bright as any fire, and smote
himself into the bread, so that they all saw it that the
bread was formed of a fleshly man; and then he put it
into the Holy Vessel again, and then he did that longed
to a priest to do to a mass. And then he went to Galahad
and kissed him, and bade him go and kiss his fellows: and
so he did anon. Now, said he, servants of Jesu Christ,
ye shall be fed afore this table with sweet meats that never
knights tasted. And when he had said, he vanished away.
And they set them at the table in great dread, and made
their prayers.

Then looked they and saw a man come out of the
Holy Vessel, that had all the signs of the passion of Jesu
Christ, bleeding all openly, and said: My knights, and
my servants, and my true children, which be come out of
deadly life into spiritual life, I will now no longer hide me
from you, but ye shall see now a part of my secrets and of
my hidden things: now hold and receive the high meat which
ye have so much desired. Then took he himself the Holy
Vessel and came to Galahad; and he kneeled down, and
there he received his Saviour, and after him so received all
his fellows; and they thought it so sweet that it was
marvellous to tell. Then said he to Galahad: Son,
wottest thou what I hold betwixt my hands? Nay, said
he, but if ye will tell me. This is, said he, the holy dish
wherein I ate the lamb on Sheer-Thursday. And now hast
thou seen that thou most desired to see, but yet hast thou
not seen it so openly as thou shalt see it in the city of
Sarras in the spiritual place. Therefore thou must go
hence and bear with thee this Holy Vessel; for this night
it shall depart from the realm of Logris, that it shall never
be seen more here. And wottest thou wherefore? For
he is not served nor worshipped to his right by them of
this land, for they be turned to evil living; therefore I
shall disherit them of the honour which I have done them.
And therefore go ye three to-morrow unto the sea, where
ye shall find your ship ready, and with you take the sword
with the strange girdles, and no more with you but Sir
Percivale and Sir Bors. Also I will that ye take with you
of the blood of this spear for to anoint the Maimed King,
both his legs and all his body, and he shall have his health.
Sir, said Galahad, why shall not these other fellows go with
us? For this cause: for right as I departed my apostles
one here and another there, so I will that ye depart; and
two of you shall die in my service, but one of you shall
come again and tell tidings. Then gave he them his
blessing and vanished away.

CHAPTER XXI

How Galahad anointed with the blood of the spear the
Maimed King, and of other adventures.

AND Galahad went anon to the spear which lay upon the
table, and touched the blood with his fingers, and came
after to the Maimed King and anointed his legs. And
therewith he clothed him anon, and start upon his feet out
of his bed as an whole man, and thanked Our Lord that
He had healed him. And that was not to the worldward,
for anon he yielded him to a place of religion of
white monks, and was a full holy man. That same night
about midnight came a voice among them which said:
My sons and not my chief sons, my friends and not my
warriors, go ye hence where ye hope best to do and as I
bade you. Ah, thanked' be Thou, Lord, that Thou wilt
vouchsafe to call us, Thy sinners. Now may we well
prove that we have not lost our pains. And anon in
all haste they took their harness and departed. But the
three knights of Gaul, one of them hight Claudine, King
Claudas' son, and the other two were great gentlemen.
Then prayed Galahad to everych of them, that if they
come to King Arthur's court that they should salute my
lord, Sir Launcelot, my father, and all the fellowship[1] of
the Round Table; and prayed them if that they came on
that part that they should not forget it.

Right so departed Galahad, Percivale and Bors with
him; and so they rode three days, and then they came to
a rivage, and found the ship whereof the tale speaketh of

[1] So W. de Worde; Caxton ``of them.''

to-fore. And when they came to the board they found in
the midst the table of silver which they had left with the
Maimed King, and the Sangreal which was covered with
red samite. Then were they glad to have such things in
their fellowship; and so they entered and made great
reverence thereto; and Galahad fell in his prayer long time
to Our Lord, that at what time he asked, that he should
pass out of this world. So much he prayed till a voice
said to him: Galahad, thou shalt have thy request; and
when thou askest the death of thy body thou shalt have it,
and then shalt thou find the life of the soul. Percivale
heard this, and prayed him, of fellowship that was between
them, to tell him wherefore he asked such things. That
shall I tell you, said Galahad; the other day when we saw
a part of the adventures of the Sangreal I was in such a joy
of heart, that I trow never man was that was earthly. And
therefore I wot well, when my body is dead my soul shall
be in great joy to see the blessed Trinity every day, and
the majesty of Our Lord, Jesu Christ.

So long were they in the ship that they said to Galahad:
Sir, in this bed ought ye to lie, for so saith the scripture.
And so he laid him down and slept a great while; and
when he awaked he looked afore him and saw the city of
Sarras. And as they would have landed they saw the ship
wherein Percivale had put his sister in. Truly, said
Percivale, in the name of God, well hath my sister holden us
covenant. Then took they out of the ship the table of
silver, and he took it to Percivale and to Bors, to go to-fore,
and Galahad came behind. And right so they went to the
city, and at the gate of the city they saw an old man
crooked. Then Galahad called him and bade him help to
bear this heavy thing. Truly, said the old man, it is ten
year ago that I might not go but with crutches. Care thou
not, said Galahad, and arise up and shew thy good will.
And so he assayed, and found himself as whole as ever he
was. Than ran he to the table, and took one part against
Galahad. And anon arose there great noise in the city,
that a cripple was made whole by knights marvellous that
entered into the city.

Then anon after, the three knights went to the water,
and brought up into the palace Percivale's sister, and buried
her as richly as a king's daughter ought to be. And when
the king of the city, which was cleped Estorause, saw the
fellowship, he asked them of whence they were, and what
thing it was that they had brought upon the table of silver.
And they told him the truth of the Sangreal, and the power
which that God had sent there. Then the king was a
tyrant, and was come of the line of paynims, and took them
and put them in prison in a deep hole.

CHAPTER XXII

How they were fed with the Sangreal while they were in
prison, and how Galahad was made king.

BUT as soon as they were there Our Lord sent them the
Sangreal, through whose grace they were always fulfilled
while that they were in prison. So at the year's end it
befell that this King Estorause lay sick, and felt that he
should die. Then he sent for the three knights, and they
came afore him; and he cried them mercy of that he had
done to them, and they forgave it him goodly; and he died
anon. When the king was dead all the city was dismayed,
and wist not who might be their king. Right so as they
were in counsel there came a voice among them, and bade
them choose the youngest knight of them three to be their
king: For he shall well maintain you and all yours. So
they made Galahad king by all the assent of the holy city,
and else they would have slain him. And when he was
come to behold the land, he let make above the table of
silver a chest of gold and of precious stones, that hilled the
Holy Vessel. And every day early the three fellows
would come afore it, and make their prayers.

Now at the year's end, and the self day after Galahad
had borne the crown of gold, he arose up early and his
fellows, and came to the palace, and saw to-fore them the
Holy Vessel, and a man kneeling on his knees in likeness
of a bishop, that had about him a great fellowship of angels,
as it had been Jesu Christ himself; and then he arose and
began a mass of Our Lady. And when he came to the
sacrament of the mass, and had done, anon he called
Galahad, and said to him: Come forth the servant of Jesu
Christ, and thou shalt see that thou hast much desired to
see. And then he began to tremble right hard when the
deadly flesh began to behold the spiritual things. Then he
held up his hands toward heaven and said: Lord, I thank
thee, for now I see that that hath been my desire many a
day. Now, blessed Lord, would I not longer live, if it
might please thee, Lord. And therewith the good man
took Our Lord's body betwixt his hands, and proffered it
to Galahad, and he received it right gladly and meekly.
Now wottest thou what I am? said the good man. Nay,
said Galahad. I am Joseph of Aramathie, the which Our
Lord hath sent here to thee to bear thee fellowship; and
wottest thou wherefore that he hath sent me more than any
other? For thou hast resembled me in two things; in
that thou hast seen the marvels of the Sangreal, in that
thou hast been a clean maiden, as I have been and am.

And when he had said these words Galahad went
to Percivale and kissed him, and commended him
to God; and so 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
as soon as ye see him, bid him remember of this
unstable world. And therewith he kneeled down to-fore
the table and made his prayers, and then suddenly his
soul departed to Jesu Christ, and a great multitude of
angels bare his soul up to heaven, that the two fellows
might well behold it. Also the two fellows saw come from
heaven an hand, but they saw not the body. And then it
came right to the Vessel, and took it and the spear, and so
bare it up to heaven. Sithen was there never man so hardy
to say that he had seen the Sangreal.

CHAPTER XXIII

Of the sorrow that Percivale and Bors made when Galahad
was dead: and of Percivale how he died, and other
matters.

WHEN Percivale and Bors saw Galahad dead they made
as much sorrow as ever did two men. And if they had
not been good men they might lightly have fallen in
despair. And the people of the country and of the city
were right heavy. And then he was buried; and as soon
as he was buried Sir Percivale yielded him to an hermitage
out of the city, and took a religious clothing. And Bors
was alway with him, but never changed he his secular
clothing, for that he purposed him to go again into the
realm of Logris. Thus a year and two months lived Sir
Percivale in the hermitage a full holy life, and then passed
out of this world; and Bors let bury him by his sister and
by Galahad in the spiritualities.

When Bors saw that he was in so far countries as in the
parts of Babylon he departed from Sarras, and armed him
and came to the sea, and entered into a ship; and so it
befell him in good adventure he came into the realm of
Logris; and he rode so fast till he came to Camelot where
the king was. And then was there great joy made of him
in the court, for they weened all he had been dead,
forasmuch as he had been so long out of the country. And
when they had eaten, the king made great clerks to come
afore him, that they should chronicle of the high adventures
of the good knights. When Bors had told him of
the adventures of the Sangreal, such as had befallen him
and his three fellows, that was Launcelot, Percivale,
Galahad, and himself, there Launcelot told the adventures of
the Sangreal that he had seen. All this was made in great
books, and put up in almeries at Salisbury. 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 Percivale, for I buried them with
mine own hands in the city of Sarras. Also, Sir Launcelot,
Galahad prayed you to remember of this unsiker 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, while 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
asunder whilst our lives may last. Sir, said he, I will as
ye will.

drawn out of French into English, the which is a
story chronicled for one of the truest and the holiest
that is in this world, the which is the xvii book.

And here followeth the eighteenth book.>

BOOK XVIII

CHAPTER I

Of the joy King Arthur and the queen had of the achievement
of the Sangreal; and how Launcelot fell to his old
love again.

SO after the quest of the Sangreal was fulfilled, and all
knights that were left alive were come again unto the
Table Round, as the book of the Sangreal maketh
mention, then was there great joy in the court; and in
especial King Arthur and Queen Guenever made great
joy of the remnant that were come home, and passing
glad was the king and the queen of Sir Launcelot and of
Sir Bors, for they had been passing long away in the
quest of the Sangreal.

Then, as the book saith, Sir Launcelot began to resort
unto Queen Guenever again, and forgat the promise and
the perfection that he made in the quest. For, as the
book saith, had not Sir Launcelot been in his privy
thoughts and in his mind so set inwardly to the queen
as he was in seeming outward to God, there had no
knight passed him in the quest of the Sangreal; but
ever his thoughts were privily on the queen, and so
they loved together more hotter than they did to-forehand,
and had such privy draughts together, that many in the
court spake of it, and in especial Sir Agravaine, Sir
Gawaine's brother, for he was ever open-mouthed.

So befell that Sir Launcelot had many resorts of ladies
and damosels that daily resorted unto him, that besought
him to be their champion, and in all such matters of right
Sir Launcelot applied him daily to do for the pleasure of
Our Lord, Jesu Christ. And ever as much as he might
he withdrew him from the company and fellowship of
Queen Guenever, for to eschew the slander and noise;
wherefore the queen waxed wroth with Sir Launcelot.
And upon a day she called Sir Launcelot unto her chamber,
and said thus: Sir Launcelot, I see and feel daily that thy
love beginneth to slake, for thou hast no joy to be in my
presence, but ever thou art out of this court, and quarrels
and matters thou hast nowadays for ladies and gentlewomen
more than ever thou wert wont to have aforehand.

Ah madam, said Launcelot, in this ye must hold me
excused for divers causes; one is, I was but late in the
quest of the Sangreal; and I thank God of his great
mercy, and never of my desert, that I saw in that my
quest as much as ever saw any sinful man, and so was it
told me. And if I had not had my privy thoughts to
return to your love again as I do, I had seen as great
mysteries as ever saw my son Galahad, outher Percivale,
or Sir Bors; and therefore, madam, I was but late in that
quest. Wit ye well, madam, it may not be yet lightly
forgotten the high service in whom I did my diligent
labour. Also, madam, wit ye well that there be many
men speak of our love in this court, and have you and me
greatly in await, as Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred; and
madam, wit ye well I dread them more for your sake than
for any fear I have of them myself, for I may happen to
escape and rid myself in a great need, where ye must
abide all that will be said unto you. And then if that ye
fall in any distress through wilful folly, then is there none
other remedy or help but by me and my blood. And wit
ye well, madam, the boldness of you and me will bring us
to great shame and slander; and that were me loath to see
you dishonoured. And that is the cause I take upon me
more for to do for damosels and maidens than ever I did
to-fore, that men should understand my joy and my delight
is my pleasure to have ado for damosels and maidens.

CHAPTER II

How the queen commanded Sir Launcelot to avoid the court,
and of the sorrow that Launcelot made.

ALL this while the queen stood still and let Sir Launcelot
say what he would. And when he had all said she brast
out a-weeping, and so she sobbed and wept a great while.
And when she might speak she said: Launcelot, now I
well understand that thou art a false recreant knight and
a common lecher, and lovest and holdest other ladies, and
by me thou hast disdain and scorn. For wit thou well,
she said, now I understand thy falsehood, and therefore
shall I never love thee no more. And never be thou so
hardy to come in my sight; and right here I discharge
thee this court, that thou never come within it; and I
forfend thee my fellowship, and upon pain of thy head
that thou see me no more. Right so Sir Launcelot departed
with great heaviness, that unnethe he might sustain
himself for great dole-making.

Then he called Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir
Lionel, and told them how the queen had forfended him
the court, and so he was in will to depart into his own
country. Fair sir, said Sir Bors de Ganis, ye shall not
depart out of this land by mine advice. Ye must remember
in what honour ye are renowned, and called the
noblest knight of the world; and many great matters ye
have in hand. And women in their hastiness will do
ofttimes that sore repenteth them; and therefore by mine
advice ye shall take your horse, and ride to the good
hermitage here beside Windsor, that sometime was a good
knight, his name is Sir Brasias, and there shall ye abide
till I send you word of better tidings. Brother, said Sir
Launcelot, wit ye well I am full loath to depart out of
this realm, but the queen hath defended me so highly,
that meseemeth she will never be my good lady as she
hath been. Say ye never so, said Sir Bors, for many
times or this time she hath been wroth with you, and
after it she was the first that repented it. Ye say well,
said Launcelot, for now will I do by your counsel, and
take mine horse and my harness, and ride to the hermit
Sir Brasias, and there will I repose me until I hear some
manner of tidings from you; but, fair brother, I pray
you get me the love of my lady, Queen Guenever, an ye
may Sir, said Sir Bors, ye need not to move me of such
matters, for well ye wot I will do what I may to please
you.

And then the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, departed
with right heavy cheer suddenly, that none earthly creature
wist of him, nor where he was become, but Sir Bors. So
when Sir Launcelot was departed, the queen outward
made no manner of sorrow in showing to none of his
blood nor to none other. But wit ye well, inwardly, as
the book saith, she took great thought, but she bare it
out with a proud countenance as though she felt nothing
nor danger.

CHAPTER III

How at a dinner that the queen made there was a knight
enpoisoned, which Sir Mador laid on the queen.

AND then the queen let make a privy dinner in London
unto the knights of the Round Table. And all was for
to show outward that she had as great joy in all other
knights of the Table Round as she had in Sir Launcelot.
All only at that dinner she had Sir Gawaine and his
brethren, that is for to say Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir
Gareth, and Sir Mordred. Also there was Sir Bors de
Ganis, Sir Blamore de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir
Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lionel,
Sir Palomides, Safere his brother, Sir La Cote Male Taile,
Sir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Brandiles, Sir Kay le Seneschal,
Sir Mador de la Porte, Sir Patrise, a knight of Ireland,
Aliduk, Sir Astamore, and Sir Pinel le Savage, the which
was cousin to Sir Lamorak de Galis, the good knight that
Sir Gawaine and his brethren slew by treason. And so
these four-and-twenty knights should dine with the queen
in a privy place by themself, and there was made a great
feast of all manner of dainties.

But Sir Gawaine had a custom that he used daily at
dinner and at supper, that he loved well all manner of
fruit, and in especial apples and pears. And therefore
whosomever dined or feasted Sir Gawaine would commonly
purvey for good fruit for him, and so did the queen for
to please Sir Gawaine; she let purvey for him all manner
of fruit, for Sir Gawaine was a passing hot knight of
nature. And this Pinel hated Sir Gawaine because of his
kinsman Sir Lamorak de Galis; and therefore for pure
envy and hate Sir Pinel enpoisoned certain apples for to
enpoison Sir Gawaine. And so this was well unto the
end of the meat; and so it befell by misfortune a good
knight named Patrise, cousin unto Sir Mador de la Porte,
to take a poisoned apple. And when he had eaten it he
swelled so till he brast, and there Sir Patrise fell down
suddenly dead among them.

Then every knight leapt from the board ashamed, and
araged for wrath, nigh out of their wits. For they wist
not what to say; considering Queen Guenever made the
feast and dinner, they all had suspicion unto her. My
lady, the queen, said Gawaine, wit ye well, madam, that
this dinner was made for me, for all folks that know my
condition understand that I love well fruit, and now I see
well I had near been slain; therefore, madam, I dread me
lest ye will be shamed. Then the queen stood still and was
sore abashed, that she nist not what to say. This shall
not so be ended, said Sir Mador de la Porte, for here
have I lost a full noble knight of my blood; and therefore
upon this shame and despite I will be revenged to the
utterance. And there openly Sir Mador appealed the
queen of the death of his cousin, Sir Patrise. Then stood
they all still, that none would speak a word against him,
for they all had great suspicion unto the queen because
she let make that dinner. And the queen was so abashed
that she could none other ways do, but wept so heartily
that she fell in a swoon. With this noise and cry came
to them King Arthur, and when he wist of that trouble he
was a passing heavy man.

CHAPTER IV

How Sir Mador appeached the queen of treason, and there
was no knight would fight for her at the first time.

AND ever Sir Mador stood still afore the king, and ever
he appealed the queen of treason; for the custom was
such that time that all manner of shameful death was
called treason. Fair lords, said King Arthur, me repenteth
of this trouble, but the case is so I may not have
ado in this matter, for I must be a rightful judge; and
that repenteth me that I may not do battle for my wife,
for as I deem this deed came never by her. And therefore
I suppose she shall not be all distained, but that some
good knight shall put his body in jeopardy for my queen
rather than she shall be brent in a wrong quarrel. And
therefore, Sir Mador, be not so hasty, for it may happen
she shall not be all friendless; and therefore desire
thou thy day of battle, and she shall purvey her of some
good knight that shall answer you, or else it were to me
great shame, and to all my court.

My gracious lord, said Sir Mador, ye must hold me
excused, for though ye be our king in that degree, ye are
but a knight as we are, and ye are sworn unto knighthood
as well as we; and therefore I beseech you that ye be not
displeased, for there is none of the four-and-twenty knights
that were bidden to this dinner but all they have great
suspicion unto the queen. What say ye all, my lords?
said Sir Mador. Then they answered by and by that they
could not excuse the queen; for why she made the dinner,
and either it must come by her or by her servants. Alas,
said the queen, I made this dinner for a good intent, and
never for none evil, so Almighty God me help in my
right, as I was never purposed to do such evil deeds, and
that I report me unto God.

My lord, the king, said Sir Mador, I require you as
ye be a righteous king give me a day that I may have
justice. Well, said the king, I give the day this day
fifteen days that thou be ready armed on horseback in the
meadow beside Westminster. And if it so fall that there
be any knight to encounter with you, there mayst thou
do the best, and God speed the right. And if it so fall
that there be no knight at that day, then must my queen
be burnt, and there she shall be ready to have her judgment.
I am answered, said Sir Mador. And every
knight went where it liked them.

So when the king and the queen were together the
king asked the queen how this case befell. The queen
answered: So God me help, I wot not how or in what
manner. Where is Sir Launcelot? said King Arthur; an
he were here he would not grudge to do battle for you.
Sir, said the queen, I wot not where he is, but his brother
and his kinsmen deem that he be not within this realm.
That me repenteth, said King Arthur, for an he were here
he would soon stint this strife. Then I will counsel you,
said the king, and unto Sir Bors: That ye will do battle
for her for Sir Launcelot's sake, and upon my life he will
not refuse you. For well I see, said the king, that none
of these four-and-twenty knights that were with you at
your dinner where Sir Patrise was slain, that will do battle
for you, nor none of them will say well of you, and that
shall be a great slander for you in this court. Alas, said
the queen, and I may not do withal, but now I miss Sir
Launcelot, for an he were here he would put me soon
to my heart's ease. What aileth you, said the king, ye
cannot keep Sir Launcelot upon your side? For wit ye
well, said the king, who that hath Sir Launcelot upon his
part hath the most man of worship in the world upon his
side. Now go your way, said the king unto the queen,
and require Sir Bors to do battle for you for Sir Launcelot's
sake.

CHAPTER V

How the queen required Sir Bors to fight for her, and how
he granted upon condition; and how he warned Sir
Launcelot thereof.

SO the queen departed from the king, and sent for Sir
Bors into her chamber. And when he was come she
besought him of succour. Madam, said he, what would
ye that I did? for I may not with my worship have ado
in this matter, because I was at the same dinner, for dread
that any of those knights would have me in suspicion.
Also, madam, said Sir Bors, now miss ye Sir Launcelot,
for he would not have failed you neither in right nor in
wrong, as ye have well proved when ye have been in
danger; and now ye have driven him out of this country,
by whom ye and all we were daily worshipped by; therefore,
madam, I marvel how ye dare for shame require
me to do any thing for you, in so much ye have chased
him out of your country by whom we were borne up and
honoured. Alas, fair knight, said the queen, I put me
wholly in your grace, and all that is done amiss I will
amend as ye will counsel me. And therewith she kneeled
down upon both her knees, and besought Sir Bors to have
mercy upon her: Outher I shall have a shameful death,
and thereto I never offended.

Right so came King Arthur, and found the queen
kneeling afore Sir Bors; then Sir Bors pulled her up, and
said: Madam, ye do me great dishonour. Ah, gentle
knight, said the king, have mercy upon my queen, courteous
knight, for I am now in certain she is untruly
defamed. And therefore, courteous knight, said the king,
promise her to do battle for her, I require you for the
love of Sir Launcelot. My lord, said Sir Bors, ye require
me the greatest thing that any man may require me; and
wit ye well if I grant to do battle for the queen I shall
wrath many of my fellowship of the Table Round. But
as for that, said Bors, I will grant my lord that for my
lord Sir Launcelot's sake, and for your sake I will at that
day be the queen's champion unless that there come by
adventure a better knight than I am to do battle for her.
Will ye promise me this, said the king, by your faith?
Yea sir, said Sir Bors, of that I will not fail you, nor her
both, but if there come a better knight than I am, and
then shall he have the battle. Then was the king and the
queen passing glad, and so departed, and thanked him
heartily.

So then Sir Bors departed secretly upon a day, and
rode unto Sir Launcelot thereas he was with the hermit,
Sir Brasias, and told him of all their adventure. Ah Jesu,
said Sir Launcelot, this is come happily as I would have
it, and therefore I pray you make you ready to do battle,
but look that ye tarry till ye see me come, as long as ye
may. For I am sure Mador is an hot knight when he is
enchafed, for the more ye suffer him the hastier will he
be to battle. Sir, said Bors, let me deal with him, doubt
ye not ye shall have all your will. Then departed Sir
Bors from him and came to the court again. Then was
it noised in all the court that Sir Bors should do battle
for the queen; wherefore many knights were displeased
with him, that he would take upon him to do battle in
the queen's quarrel; for there were but few knights in
all the court but they deemed the queen was in the
wrong, and that she had done that treason.

So Sir Bors answered thus to his fellows of the Table
Round: Wit ye well, my fair lords, it were shame to us
all an we suffered to see the most noble queen of the
world to be shamed openly, considering her lord and our
lord is the man of most worship in the world, and most
christened, and he hath ever worshipped us all in all
places. Many answered him again: As for our most
noble King Arthur, we love him and honour him as well
as ye do, but as for Queen Guenever we love her not,
because she is a destroyer of good knights. Fair lords,
said Sir Bors, meseemeth ye say not as ye should say, for
never yet in my days knew I never nor heard say that
ever she was a destroyer of any good knight. But at all
times as far as ever I could know she was a maintainer of
good knights; and ever she hath been large and free of
her goods to all good knights, and the most bounteous
lady of her gifts and her good grace, that ever I saw or
heard speak of. And therefore it were shame, said Sir
Bors, to us all to our most noble king's wife, an we
suffered her to be shamefully slain. And wit ye well,
said Sir Bors, I will not suffer it, for I dare say so much,
the queen is not guilty of Sir Patrise's death, for she owed
him never none ill will, nor none of the four-and-twenty
knights that were at that dinner; for I dare say for good
love she bade us to dinner, and not for no mal engine,
and that I doubt not shall be proved hereafter, for
howsomever the game goeth, there was treason among us.
Then some said to Sir Bors: We may well believe your
words. And so some of them were well pleased, and
some were not so.

CHAPTER VI

How at the day Sir Bors made him ready for to fight for the
queen; and when he would fight how another discharged
him.

THE day came on fast until the even that the battle
should be. Then the queen sent for Sir Bors and asked
him how he was disposed. Truly madam, said he, I am
disposed in likewise as I promised you, that is for to say
I shall not fail you, unless by adventure there come a
better knight than I am to do battle for you, then,
madam, am I discharged of my promise. Will ye, said
the queen, that I tell my lord Arthur thus? Do as
it shall please you, madam. Then the queen went unto
the king and told him the answer of Sir Bors. Have ye
no doubt, said the king, of Sir Bors, for I call him now
one of the best knights of the world, and the most
profitablest man. And thus it passed on until the morn, and
the king and the queen and all manner of knights that
were there at that time drew them unto the meadow
beside Westminster where the battle should be. And
so when the king was come with the queen and many
knights of the Round Table, then the queen was put
there in the Constable's ward, and a great fire made about
an iron stake, that an Sir Mador de la Porte had the
better, she should be burnt: such custom was used in
those days, that neither for favour, neither for love nor
affinity, there should be none other but righteous
judgment, as well upon a king as upon a knight, and as well
upon a queen as upon another poor lady.

So in this meanwhile came in Sir Mador de la Porte,
and took his oath afore the king, that the queen did this
treason until his cousin Sir Patrise, and unto his oath he
would prove it with his body, hand for hand, who that
would say the contrary. Right so came in Sir Bors de
Ganis, and said: That as for Queen Guenever she is in
the right, and that will I make good with my hands that
she is not culpable of this treason that is put upon her.
Then make thee ready, said Sir Mador, and we shall prove
whether thou be in the right or I. Sir Mador, said Sir
Bors, wit thou well I know you for a good knight. Not
for then I shall not fear you so greatly, but I trust to God
I shall be able to withstand your malice. But this much
have I promised my lord Arthur and my lady the queen,
that I shall do battle for her in this case to the uttermost,
unless that there come a better knight than I am and
discharge me. Is that all? said Sir Mador, either come thou
off and do battle with me, or else say nay. Take your
horse, said Sir Bors, and as I suppose, ye shall not tarry
long but ye shall be answered.

Then either departed to their tents and made them
ready to horseback as they thought best. And anon Sir
Mador came into the field with his shield on his shoulder
and his spear in his hand; and so rode about the place
crying unto Arthur: Bid your champion come forth an
he dare. Then was Sir Bors ashamed and took his horse
and came to the lists' end. And then was he ware where
came from a wood there fast by a knight all armed, upon
a white horse, with a strange shield of strange arms; and
he came riding all that he might run, and so he came to
Sir Bors, and said thus: Fair knight, I pray you be not
displeased, for here must a better knight than ye are have
this battle, therefore I pray you withdraw you. For wit
ye well I have had this day a right great journey, and this
battle ought to be mine, and so I promised you when I
spake with you last, and with all my heart I thank you
of your good will. Then Sir Bors rode unto King Arthur
and told him how there was a knight come that would
have the battle for to fight for the queen. What knight
is he? said the king. I wot not, said Sir Bors, but such
covenant he made with me to be here this day. Now my
lord, said Sir Bors, here am I discharged.

CHAPTER VII
How Sir Launcelot fought against Sir Mador for the queen,
and how he overcame Sir Mador, and discharged the
queen.

THEN the king called to that knight, and asked him if
he would fight for the queen. Then he answered to the
king: Therefore came I hither, and therefore, sir king, he
said, tarry me no longer, for I may not tarry. For anon
as I have finished this battle I must depart hence, for I
have ado many matters elsewhere. For wit you well, said
that knight, this is dishonour to you all knights of the
Round Table, to see and know so noble a lady and so
courteous a queen as Queen Guenever is, thus to be
rebuked and shamed amongst you. Then they all marvelled
what knight that might be that so took the battle upon
him. For there was not one that knew him, but if it were
Sir Bors.

Then said Sir Mador de la Porte unto the king: Now
let me wit with whom I shall have ado withal. And then
they rode to the lists' end, and there they couched their
spears, and ran together with all their might, and Sir
Mador's spear brake all to pieces, but the other's spear
held, and bare Sir Mador's horse and all backward to the
earth a great fall. But mightily and suddenly he avoided
his horse and put his shield afore him, and then drew his
sword, and bade the other knight alight and do battle
with him on foot. Then that knight descended from his
horse lightly like a valiant man, and put his shield afore
him and drew his sword; and so they came eagerly unto
battle, and either gave other many great strokes, tracing
and traversing, racing and foining, and hurtling together
with their swords as it were wild boars. Thus were they
fighting nigh an hour, for this Sir Mador was a strong
knight, and mightily proved in many strong battles. But
at the last this knight smote Sir Mador grovelling upon
the earth, and the knight stepped near him to have pulled
Sir Mador flatling upon the ground; and therewith
suddenly Sir Mador arose, and in his rising he smote that
knight through the thick of the thighs that the blood ran
out fiercely. And when he felt himself so wounded, and
saw his blood, he let him arise upon his feet. And then
he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell to
the earth flatling, and therewith he strode to him to have
pulled off his helm off his head. And then Sir Mador
prayed that knight to save his life, and so he yielded him
as overcome, and released the queen of his quarrel. I will
not grant thee thy life, said that knight, only that thou
freely release the queen for ever, and that no mention be
made upon Sir Patrise's tomb that ever Queen Guenever
consented to that treason. All this shall be done, said Sir
Mador, I clearly discharge my quarrel for ever.

Then the knights parters of the lists took up Sir
Mador, and led him to his tent, and the other knight
went straight to the stair-foot where sat King Arthur;
and by that time was the queen come to the king, and
either kissed other heartily. And when the king saw that
knight, he stooped down to him, and thanked him, and
in likewise did the queen; and the king prayed him to
put off his helmet, and to repose him, and to take a sop
of wine. And then he put off his helm to drink, and then
every knight knew him that it was Sir Launcelot du Lake.
Anon as the king wist that, he took the queen in his hand,
and yode unto Sir Launcelot, and said: Sir, grant mercy
of your great travail that ye have had this day for me and
for my queen. My lord, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well I
ought of right ever to be in your quarrel, and in my lady
the queen's quarrel, to do battle; for ye are the man that
gave me the high order of knighthood, and that day my
lady, your queen, did me great worship, and else I had
been shamed; for that same day ye made me knight,
through my hastiness I lost my sword, and my lady, your
queen, found it, and lapped it in her train, and gave me
my sword when I had need thereto, and else had I been
shamed among all knights; and therefore, my lord Arthur, I
promised her at that day ever to be her knight in right outher
in wrong. Grant mercy, said the king, for this journey;
and wit ye well, said the king, I shall acquit your goodness.

And ever the queen beheld Sir Launcelot, and wept so
tenderly that she sank almost to the ground for sorrow
that he had done to her so great goodness where she
shewed him great unkindness. Then the knights of his
blood drew unto him, and there either of them made great
joy of other. And so came all the knights of the Table
Round that were there at that time, and welcomed him.
And then Sir Mador was had to leech-craft, and Sir
Launcelot was healed of his wound. And then there was
made great joy and mirths in that court.

CHAPTER VIII

How the truth was known by the Maiden of the Lake,
and of divers other matters.

AND so it befell that the damosel of the lake, her name
was Nimue, the which wedded the good knight Sir Pelleas,
and so she came to the court; for ever she did great
goodness unto King Arthur and to all his knights through her
sorcery and enchantments. And so when she heard how
the queen was an-angered for the death of Sir Patrise,
then she told it openly that she was never guilty; and
there she disclosed by whom it was done, and named him,
Sir Pinel; and for what cause he did it, there it was openly
disclosed; and so the queen was excused, and the knight
Pinel fled into his country. Then was it openly known
that Sir Pinel enpoisoned the apples at the feast to that
intent to have destroyed Sir Gawaine, because Sir Gawaine
and his brethren destroyed Sir Lamorak de Galis, to the
which Sir Pinel was cousin unto. Then was Sir Patrise
buried in the church of Westminster in a tomb, and
thereupon was written: Here lieth Sir Patrise of Ireland,
slain by Sir Pinel le Savage, that enpoisoned apples to
have slain Sir Gawaine, and by misfortune Sir Patrise ate
one of those apples, and then suddenly he brast. Also
there was written upon the tomb that Queen Guenever
was appealed of treason of the death of Sir Patrise, by Sir
Mador de la Porte; and there was made mention how
Sir Launcelot fought with him for Queen Guenever, and
overcame him in plain battle. All this was written upon
the tomb of Sir Patrise in excusing of the queen. And
then Sir Mador sued daily and long, to have the queen's
good grace; and so by the means of Sir Launcelot he
caused him to stand in the queen's good grace, and all
was forgiven

Thus it passed on till our Lady Day, Assumption.
Within a fifteen days of that feast the king let cry a great
jousts and a tournament that should be at that day at
Camelot, that is Winchester; and the king let cry that he
and the King of Scots would joust against all that would
come against them. And when this cry was made, thither
came many knights. So there came thither the King of
Northgalis, and King Anguish of Ireland, and the King
with the Hundred Knights, and Galahad, the haut prince,
and the King of Northumberland, and many other noble
dukes and earls of divers countries. So King Arthur
made him ready to depart to these jousts, and would have
had the queen with him, but at that time she would not,
she said, for she was sick and might not ride at that time.
That me repenteth, said the king, for this seven year ye
saw not such a noble fellowship together except at
Whitsuntide when Galahad departed from the court. Truly,
said the queen to the king, ye must hold me excused, I
may not be there, and that me repenteth. And many
deemed the queen would not be there because of Sir
Launcelot du Lake, for Sir Launcelot would not ride with
the king, for he said that he was not whole of the wound
the which Sir Mador had given him; wherefore the king
was heavy and passing wroth. And so he departed
toward Winchester with his fellowship; and so by the
way the king lodged in a town called Astolat, that is now
in English called Guildford, and there the king lay in the
castle.

So when the king was departed the queen called Sir
Launcelot to her, and said thus: Sir Launcelot, ye are
greatly to blame thus to hold you behind my lord; what,
trow ye, what will your enemies and mine say and deem?
nought else but, See how Sir Launcelot holdeth him ever
behind the king, and so doth the queen, for that they
would have their pleasure together. And thus will they
say, said the queen to Sir Launcelot, have ye no doubt
thereof.

CHAPTER IX

How Sir Launcelot rode to Astolat, and received a sleeve to
wear upon his helm at the request of a maid.

MADAM, said Sir Launcelot, I allow your wit, it is of late
come since ye were wise. And therefore, madam, at this
time I will be ruled by your counsel, and this night I will
take my rest, and to-morrow by time I will take my way
toward Winchester. But wit you well, said Sir Launcelot
to the queen, that at that jousts I will be against the king,
and against all his fellowship. Ye may there do as ye
list, said the queen, but by my counsel ye shall not be
against your king and your fellowship. For therein
be full many hard knights of your blood, as ye wot well
enough, it needeth not to rehearse them. Madam, said
Sir Launcelot, I pray you that ye be not displeased with
me, for I will take the adventure that God will send me.

And so upon the morn early Sir Launcelot heard mass
and brake his fast, and so took his leave of the queen and
departed. And then he rode so much until he came to
Astolat, that is Guildford; and there it happed him in the
eventide he came to an old baron's place that hight Sir
Bernard of Astolat. And as Sir Launcelot entered into
his lodging, King Arthur espied him as he did walk in a
garden beside the castle, how he took his lodging, and
knew him full well. It is well, said King Arthur unto the
knights that were with him in that garden beside the
castle, I have now espied one knight that will play his play
at the jousts to the which we be gone toward; I undertake
he will do marvels. Who is that, we pray you tell
us? said many knights that were there at that time. Ye
shall not wit for me, said the king, as at this time. And
so the king smiled, and went to his lodging.

So when Sir Launcelot was in his lodging, and unarmed
him in his chamber, the old baron and hermit came
to him making his reverence, and welcomed him in the
best manner; but the old knight knew not Sir Launcelot.
Fair sir, said Sir Launcelot to his host, I would pray you
to lend me a shield that were not openly known, for mine
is well known. Sir, said his host, ye shall have your
desire, for meseemeth ye be one of the likeliest knights of
the world, and therefore I shall shew you friendship. Sir,
wit you well I have two sons that were but late made
knights, and the eldest hight Sir Tirre, and he was hurt
that same day he was made knight, that he may not ride,
and his shield ye shall have; for that is not known I dare
say but here, and in no place else. And my youngest son
hight Lavaine, and if it please you, he shall ride with you
unto that jousts; and he is of his age strong and wight,
for much my heart giveth unto you that ye should be a
noble knight, therefore I pray you, tell me your name,
said Sir Bernard. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, ye
must hold me excused as at this time, and if God give me
grace to speed well at the jousts I shall come again and
tell you. But I pray you, said Sir Launcelot, in any wise
let me have your son, Sir Lavaine, with me, and that I
may have his brother's shield. All this shall be done,
said Sir Bernard.

This old baron had a daughter that was called that
time the Fair Maiden of Astolat. And ever she beheld
Sir Launcelot wonderfully; and as the book saith, she
cast such a love unto Sir Launcelot that she could never
withdraw her love, wherefore she died, and her name was
Elaine le Blank. So thus as she came to and fro she was
so hot in her love that she besought Sir Launcelot to wear
upon him at the jousts a token of hers. Fair damosel,
said Sir Launcelot, an if I grant you that, ye may say I
do more for your love than ever I did for lady or damosel.
Then he remembered him he would go to the jousts
disguised. And because he had never fore that time
borne no manner of token of no damosel, then he bethought
him that he would bear one of her, that none of
his blood thereby might know him, and then he said:
Fair maiden, I will grant you to wear a token of yours
upon mine helmet, and therefore what it is, shew it me.
Sir, she said, it is a red sleeve of mine, of scarlet, well
embroidered with great pearls: and so she brought it
him. So Sir Launcelot received it, and said: Never did
I erst so much for no damosel. And then Sir Launcelot
betook the fair maiden his shield in keeping, and prayed
her to keep that until that he came again; and so that night
he had merry rest and great cheer, for ever the damosel
Elaine was about Sir Launcelot all the while she might be
suffered.

CHAPTER X

How the tourney began at Winchester, and what knights
were at the jousts; and other things.

SO upon a day, on the morn, King Arthur and all his
knights departed, for their king had tarried three days to
abide his noble knights. And so when the king was
ridden, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine made them ready to
ride, and either of them had white shields, and the red
sleeve Sir Launcelot let carry with him. And so they
took their leave at Sir Bernard, the old baron, and at his
daughter, the Fair Maiden of Astolat. And then they rode
so long till that they came to Camelot, that time called
Winchester; and there was great press of kings, dukes
earls, and barons, and many noble knights. But there Sir
Launcelot was lodged privily by the means of Sir Lavaine
with a rich burgess, that no man in that town was ware
what they were. And so they reposed them there till our
Lady Day, Assumption, as the great feast should be. So
then trumpets blew unto the field, and King Arthur was
set on high upon a scaffold to behold who did best. But
as the French book saith, the king would not suffer Sir
Gawaine to go from him, for never had Sir Gawaine the
better an Sir Launcelot were in the field; and many times
was Sir Gawaine rebuked when Launcelot came into any
jousts disguised.

Then some of the kings, as King Anguish of Ireland
and the King of Scots, were that time turned upon the
side of King Arthur. And then on the other party was
the King of Northgalis, and the King with the Hundred
Knights, and the King of Northumberland, and Sir
Galahad, the haut prince. But these three kings and this
duke were passing weak to hold against King Arthur's
party, for with him were the noblest knights of the world.
So then they withdrew them either party from other, and
every man made him ready in his best manner to do what
he might.

Then Sir Launcelot made him ready, and put the red
sleeve upon his head, and fastened it fast; and so Sir
Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of Winchester
privily, and rode until a little leaved wood behind the
party that held against King Arthur's party, and there
they held them still till the parties smote together. And
then came in the King of Scots and the King of Ireland
on Arthur's party, and against them came the King of
Northumberland, and the King with the Hundred Knights
smote down the King of Northumberland, and the King
with the Hundred Knights smote down King Anguish of
Ireland. Then Sir Palomides that was on Arthur's party
encountered with Sir Galahad, and either of them smote
down other, and either party halp their lords on horseback
again. So there began a strong assail upon both parties.
And then came in Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramore le Desirous,
Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir Griflet le
Fise de Dieu, Sir Mordred, Sir Meliot de Logris, Sir
Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir Safere, Sir Epinogris, Sir
Galleron of Galway. All these fifteen knights were
knights of the Table Round. So these with more other
came in together, and beat aback the King of Northumberland
and the King of Northgalis. When Sir Launcelot
saw this, as he hoved in a little leaved wood, then he said
unto Sir Lavaine: See yonder is a company of good
knights, and they hold them together as boars that were
chafed with dogs. That is truth, said Sir Lavaine.

CHAPTER XI

How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine entered in the field
against them of King Arthur's court, and how Launcelot
was hurt.

NOW, said Sir Launcelot, an ye will help me a little, ye
shall see yonder fellowship that chaseth now these men in
our side, that they shall go as fast backward as they went
forward. Sir, spare not, said Sir Lavaine, for I shall do
what I may. Then Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine came
in at the thickest of the press, and there Sir Launcelot
smote down Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramore, Sir Dodinas, Sir
Kay, Sir Griflet, and all this he did with one spear; and
Sir Lavaine smote down Sir Lucan le Butler and Sir
Bedevere. And then Sir Launcelot gat another spear,
and there he smote down Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and
Sir Mordred, and Sir Meliot de Logris; and Sir Lavaine
smote Ozanna le Cure Hardy. And then Sir Launcelot
drew his sword, and there he smote on the right hand and
on the left hand, and by great force he unhorsed Sir
Safere, Sir Epinogris, and Sir Galleron; and then the
knights of the Table Round withdrew them aback, after
they had gotten their horses as well as they might. O
mercy Jesu, said Sir Gawaine, what knight is yonder that
doth so marvellous deeds of arms in that field? I wot
well what he is, said King Arthur, but as at this time I
will not name him. Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I would say it
were Sir Launcelot by his riding and his buffets that I see
him deal, but ever meseemeth it should not be he, for that
he beareth the red sleeve upon his head; for I wist him
never bear token at no jousts, of lady nor gentlewoman.
Let him be, said King Arthur, he will be better known,
and do more, or ever he depart.

Then the party that was against King Arthur were
well comforted, and then they held them together that
beforehand were sore rebuked. Then Sir Bors, Sir Ector
de Maris, and Sir Lionel called unto them the knights of
their blood, as Sir Blamore de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis, Sir
Aliduke, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Bellangere le
Beuse. So these nine knights of Sir Launcelot's kin
thrust in mightily, for they were all noble knights; and
they, of great hate and despite that they had unto him,
thought to rebuke that noble knight Sir Launcelot, and
Sir Lavaine, for they knew them not; and so they came
hurling together, and smote down many knights of Northgalis
and of Northumberland. And when Sir Launcelot
saw them fare so, he gat a spear in his hand; and there
encountered with him all at once Sir Bors, Sir Ector, and
Sir Lionel, and all they three smote him at once with
their spears. And with force of themself they smote Sir
Launcelot's horse to the earth; and by misfortune Sir
Bors smote Sir Launcelot through the shield into the side,
and the spear brake, and the head left still in his side.

When Sir Lavaine saw his master lie on the ground,
he ran to the King of Scots and smote him to the earth;
and by great force he took his horse, and brought him to
Sir Launcelot, and maugre of them all he made him to
mount upon that horse. And then Launcelot gat a spear
in his hand, and there he smote Sir Bors, horse and man,
to the earth. In the same wise he served Sir Ector and
Sir Lionel; and Sir Lavaine smote down Sir Blamore de
Ganis. And then Sir Launcelot drew his sword, for he
felt himself so sore y-hurt that he weened there to have
had his death. And then he smote Sir Bleoberis such a
buffet on the helm that he fell down to the earth in a
swoon. And in the same wise he served Sir Aliduke and
Sir Galihud. And Sir Lavaine smote down Sir Bellangere,
that was the son of Alisander le Orphelin.

And by this was Sir Bors horsed, and then he came
with Sir Ector and Sir Lionel, and all they three smote
with swords upon Sir Launcelot's helmet. And when he
felt their buffets and his wound, the which was so grievous,
then he thought to do what he might while he might
endure. And then he gave Sir Bors such a buffet that he
made him bow his head passing low; and therewithal he
raced off his helm, and might have slain him; and so
pulled him down, and in the same wise he served Sir
Ector and Sir Lionel. For as the book saith he might
have slain them, but when he saw their visages his heart
might not serve him thereto, but left them there. And
then afterward he hurled into the thickest press of them
all, and did there the marvelloust deeds of arms that ever
man saw or heard speak of, and ever Sir Lavaine, the
good knight, with him. And there Sir Launcelot with
his sword smote down and pulled down, as the French
book maketh mention, mo than thirty knights, and the
most part were of the Table Round; and Sir Lavaine did
full well that day, for he smote down ten knights of the
Table Round.

CHAPTER XII

How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of the
field, and in what jeopardy Launcelot was.

MERCY Jesu, said Sir Gawaine to Arthur, I marvel what
knight that he is with the red sleeve. Sir, said King
Arthur, he will be known or he depart. And then the
king blew unto lodging, and the prize was given by
heralds unto the knight with the white shield that bare
the red sleeve. Then came the King with the Hundred
Knights, the King of Northgalis, and the King of Northumberland,
and Sir Galahad, the haut prince, and said
unto Sir Launcelot: Fair knight, God thee bless, for
much have ye done this day for us, therefore we pray you
that ye will come with us that ye may receive the honour
and the prize as ye have worshipfully deserved it. My
fair lords, said Sir Launcelot, wit you well if I have deserved
thanks I have sore bought it, and that me repenteth, for
I am like never to escape with my life; therefore, fair
lords, I pray you that ye will suffer me to depart where
me liketh, for I am sore hurt. I take none force of none
honour, for I had liefer to repose me than to be lord of
all the world. And therewithal he groaned piteously, and
rode a great wallop away-ward from them until he came
under a wood's side.

And when he saw that he was from the field nigh a
mile, that he was sure he might not be seen, then he said
with an high voice: O gentle knight, Sir Lavaine, help me
that this truncheon were out of my side, for it sticketh so
sore that it nigh slayeth me. O mine own lord, said Sir
Lavaine, I would fain do that might please you, but I
dread me sore an I pull out the truncheon that ye shall be
in peril of death. I charge you, said Sir Launcelot, as ye
love me, draw it out. And therewithal he descended from
his horse, and right so did Sir Lavaine; and forthwithal
Sir Lavaine drew the truncheon out of his side, and he
gave a great shriek and a marvellous grisly groan, and the
blood brast out nigh a pint at once, that at the last he
sank down upon his buttocks, and so swooned pale and
deadly. Alas, said Sir Lavaine, what shall I do? And
then he turned Sir Launcelot into the wind, but so he lay
there nigh half an hour as he had been dead.

And so at the last Sir Launcelot cast up his eyes, and
said: O Lavaine, help me that I were on my horse, for
here is fast by within this two mile a gentle hermit that
sometime was a full noble knight and a great lord of
possessions. And for great goodness he hath taken him
to wilful poverty, and forsaken many lands, and his name
is Sir Baudwin of Brittany, and he is a full noble surgeon
and a good leech. Now let see, help me up that I were
there, for ever my heart giveth me that I shall never die
of my cousin-germain's hands. And then with great pain
Sir Lavaine halp him upon his horse. And then they
rode a great wallop together, and ever Sir Launcelot bled
that it ran down to the earth; and so by fortune they
came to that hermitage the which was under a wood, and
a great cliff on the other side, and a fair water running
under it. And then Sir Lavaine beat on the gate with
the butt of his spear, and cried fast: Let in for Jesu's
sake.

And there came a fair child to them, and asked them
what they would. Fair son, said Sir Lavaine, go and pray
thy lord, the hermit, for God's sake to let in here a knight
that is full sore wounded; and this day tell thy lord I saw
him do more deeds of arms than ever I heard say that any
man did. So the child went in lightly, and then he brought
the hermit, the which was a passing good man. When Sir
Lavaine saw him he prayed him for God's sake of succour.
What knight is he? said the hermit. Is he of the house
of King Arthur, or not? I wot not, said Sir Lavaine,
what is he, nor what is his name, but well I wot I saw him
do marvellously this day as of deeds of arms. On whose
party was he? said the hermit. Sir, said Sir Lavaine, he
was this day against King Arthur, and there he won the
prize of all the knights of the Round Table. I have seen
the day, said the hermit, I would have loved him the
worse because he was against my lord, King Arthur, for
sometime I was one of the fellowship of the Round Table,
but I thank God now I am otherwise disposed. But
where is he? let me see him. Then Sir Lavaine brought
the hermit to him.

CHAPTER XIII

How Launcelot was brought to an hermit for to be healed
of his wound, and of other matters.

AND when the hermit beheld him, as he sat leaning upon
his saddle-bow ever bleeding piteously, and ever the
knight-hermit thought that he should know him, but
he could not bring him to knowledge because he was
so pale for bleeding. What knight are ye, said the
hermit, and where were ye born? My fair lord, said Sir
Launcelot, I am a stranger and a knight adventurous,
that laboureth throughout many realms for to win worship.
Then the hermit advised him better, and saw by a wound
on his cheek that he was Sir Launcelot. Alas, said the
hermit, mine own lord why lain you your name from
me? Forsooth I ought to know you of right, for ye
are the most noblest knight of the world, for well I know
you for Sir Launcelot. Sir, said he, sith ye know me, help
me an ye may, for God's sake, for I would be out of this
pain at once, either to death or to life. Have ye no
doubt, said the hermit, ye shall live and fare right well.
And so the hermit called to him two of his servants, and
so he and his servants bare him into the hermitage, and
lightly unarmed him, and laid him in his bed. And then
anon the hermit staunched his blood, and made him to
drink good wine, so that Sir Launcelot was well refreshed
and knew himself; for in those days it was not the guise
of hermits as is nowadays, for there were none hermits in
those days but that they had been men of worship and of
prowess; and those hermits held great household, and
refreshed people that were in distress.

Now turn we unto King Arthur, and leave we Sir
Launcelot in the hermitage. So when the kings were
come together on both parties, and the great feast should
be holden, King Arthur asked the King of Northgalis and
their fellowship, where was that knight that bare the red
sleeve: Bring him afore me that he may have his laud,
and honour, and the prize, as it is right. Then spake
Sir Galahad, the haut prince, and the King with the
Hundred Knights: We suppose that knight is mischieved,
and that he is never like to see you nor none
of us all, and that is the greatest pity that ever we wist
of any knight. Alas, said Arthur, how may this be, is he
so hurt? What is his name? said King Arthur. Truly,
said they all, we know not his name, nor from whence he
came, nor whither he would. Alas, said the king, this be
to me the worst tidings that came to me this seven year,
for I would not for all the lands I wield to know and wit
it were so that that noble knight were slain. Know ye
him? said they all. As for that, said Arthur, whether
I know him or know him not, ye shall not know for me
what man he is, but Almighty Jesu send me good tidings
of him. And so said they all. By my head, said Sir
Gawaine, if it so be that the good knight be so sore hurt,
it is great damage and pity to all this land, for he is one
of the noblest knights that ever I saw in a field handle a
spear or a sword; and if he may be found I shall find
him, for I am sure he nis not far from this town. Bear
you well, said King Arthur, an ye may find him, unless
that he be in such a plight that he may not wield himself.
Jesu defend, said Sir Gawaine, but wit I shall what he is,
an I may find him.

Right so Sir Gawaine took a squire with him upon
hackneys, and rode all about Camelot within six or seven
mile, but so he came again and could hear no word of
him. Then within two days King Arthur and all the
fellowship returned unto London again. And so as they
rode by the way it happed Sir Gawaine at Astolat to
lodge with Sir Bernard thereas was Sir Launcelot lodged.
And so as Sir Gawaine was in his chamber to repose him
Sir Bernard, the old baron, came unto him, and his
daughter Elaine, to cheer him and to ask him what
tidings, and who did best at that tournament of Winchester.
So God me help, said Sir Gawaine, there were
two knights that bare two white shields, but the one of
them bare a red sleeve upon his head, and certainly he
was one of the best knights that ever I saw joust in field.
For I dare say, said Sir Gawaine, that one knight with the
red sleeve smote down forty knights of the Table Round,
and his fellow did right well and worshipfully. Now
blessed be God, said the Fair Maiden of Astolat, that that
knight sped so well, for he is the man in the world that
I first loved, and truly he shall be last that ever I shall
love. Now, fair maid, said Sir Gawaine, is that good
knight your love? Certainly sir, said she, wit ye well he
is my love. Then know ye his name? said Sir Gawaine.
Nay truly, said the damosel, I know not his name nor
from whence he cometh, but to say that I love him, I
promise you and God that I love him. How had ye
knowledge of him first? said Sir Gawaine.

CHAPTER XIV

How Sir Gawaine was lodged with the lord of Astolat, and
there had knowledge that it was Sir Launcelot that bare
the red sleeve.

THEN she told him as ye have heard to-fore, and how her
father betook him her brother to do him service, and how
her father lent him her brother's, Sir Tirre's, shield: And
here with me he left his own shield. For what cause did
he so? said Sir Gawaine. For this cause, said the damosel,
for his shield was too well known among many noble
knights. Ah fair damosel, said Sir Gawaine, please it you
let me have a sight of that shield. Sir, said she, it is
in my chamber, covered with a case, and if ye will come
with me ye shall see it. Not so, said Sir Bernard till his
daughter, let send for it.

So when the shield was come, Sir Gawaine took off the
case, and when he beheld that shield he knew anon that it
was Sir Launcelot's shield, and his own arms. Ah Jesu
mercy, said Sir Gawaine, now is my heart more heavier
than ever it was to-fore. Why? said Elaine. For I have
great cause, said Sir Gawaine. Is that knight that oweth
this shield your love? Yea truly, said she, my love he is,
God would I were his love. So God me speed, said Sir
Gawaine, fair damosel ye have right, for an he be your
love ye love the most honourable knight of the world, and
the man of most worship. So me thought ever, said the
damosel, for never or that time, for no knight that ever
I saw, loved I never none erst. God grant, said Sir
Gawaine, that either of you may rejoice other, but that
is in a great adventure. But truly, said Sir Gawaine unto
the damosel, ye may say ye have a fair grace, for why
I have known that noble knight this four-and-twenty year,
and never or that day, I nor none other knight, I dare
make good, saw nor heard say that ever he bare token or
sign of no lady, gentlewoman, ne maiden, at no jousts nor
tournament. And therefore fair maiden, said Sir Gawaine,
ye are much beholden to him to give him thanks. But
I dread me, said Sir Gawaine, that ye shall never see him
in this world, and that is great pity that ever was of
earthly knight. Alas, said she, how may this be, is he
slain? I say not so, said Sir Gawaine, but wit ye well
he is grievously wounded, by all manner of signs, and by
men's sight more likelier to be dead than to be alive;
and wit ye well he is the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, for
by this shield I know him. Alas, said the Fair Maiden
of Astolat, how may this be, and what was his hurt?
Truly, said Sir Gawaine, the man in the world that loved
him best hurt him so; and I dare say, said Sir Gawaine,
an that knight that hurt him knew the very certainty that
he had hurt Sir Launcelot, it would be the most sorrow
that ever came to his heart.

Now fair father, said then Elaine, I require you
give me leave to ride and to seek him, or else I wot well
I shall go out of my mind, for I shall never stint till that
I find him and my brother, Sir Lavaine. Do as it liketh
you, said her father, for me sore repenteth of the hurt of
that noble knight. Right so the maid made her ready,
and before Sir Gawaine, making great dole.

Then on the morn Sir Gawaine came to King Arthur,
and told him how he had found Sir Launcelot's shield in
the keeping of the Fair Maiden of Astolat. All that
knew I aforehand, said King Arthur, and that caused me
I would not suffer you to have ado at the great jousts,
for I espied, said King Arthur, when he came in till his
lodging full late in the evening in Astolat. But marvel
have I, said Arthur, that ever he would bear any sign of
any damosel, for or now I never heard say nor knew that
ever he bare any token of none earthly woman. By my
head, said Sir Gawaine, the Fair Maiden of Astolat loveth
him marvellously well; what it meaneth I cannot say, and
she is ridden after to seek him. So the king and all came
to London, and there Sir Gawaine openly disclosed to all
the court that it was Sir Launcelot that jousted best.

CHAPTER XV

Of the sorrow that Sir Bors had for the hurt of Launcelot;
and of the anger that the queen had because Launcelot
bare the sleeve.

AND when Sir Bors heard that, wit ye well he was an
heavy man, and so were all his kinsmen. But when
Queen Guenever wist that Sir Launcelot bare the red
sleeve of the Fair Maiden of Astolat she was nigh out of
her mind for wrath. And then she sent for Sir Bors de
Ganis in all the haste that might be. So when Sir Bors
was come to-fore the queen, then she said: Ah Sir Bors,
have ye heard say how falsely Sir Launcelot hath betrayed
me? Alas madam, said Sir Bors, I am afeard he hath
betrayed himself and us all. No force, said the queen,
though he be destroyed, for he is a false traitor-knight.
Madam, said Sir Bors, I pray you say ye not so, for wit
you well I may not hear such language of him. Why Sir
Bors, said she, should I not call him traitor when he bare
the red sleeve upon his head at Winchester, at the great
jousts? Madam, said Sir Bors, that sleeve-bearing
repenteth me sore, but I dare say he did it to none evil
intent, but for this cause he bare the red sleeve that none
of his blood should know him. For or then we, nor none of
us all, never knew that ever he bare token or sign of maid,
lady, ne gentlewoman. Fie on him, said the queen, yet
for all his pride and bobaunce there ye proved yourself his
better. Nay madam, say ye never more so, for he beat
me and my fellows, and might have slain us an he had
would. Fie on him, said the queen, for I heard Sir
Gawaine say before my lord Arthur that it were marvel to
tell the great love that is between the Fair Maiden of
Astolat and him. Madam, said Sir Bors, I may not warn
Sir Gawaine to say what it pleased him; but I dare say,
as for my lord, Sir Launcelot, that he loveth no lady,
gentlewoman, nor maid, but all he loveth in like much.
And therefore madam, said Sir Bors, ye may say what
ye will, but wit ye well I will haste me to seek him, and
find him wheresomever he be, and God send me good
tidings of him. And so leave we them there, and speak
we of Sir Launcelot that lay in great peril.

So as fair Elaine came to Winchester she sought there
all about, and by fortune Sir Lavaine was ridden to play
him, to enchafe his horse. And anon as Elaine saw him
she knew him, and then she cried aloud until him. And
when he heard her anon he came to her, and then she asked
her brother how did my lord, Sir Launcelot. Who told
you, sister, that my lord's name was Sir Launcelot? Then
she told him how Sir Gawaine by his shield knew him.
So they rode together till that they came to the hermitage,
and anon she alighted.

So Sir Lavaine brought her in to Sir Launcelot; and
when she saw him lie so sick and pale in his bed she might
not speak, but suddenly she fell to the earth down suddenly
in a swoon, and there she lay a great while. And when
she was relieved, she shrieked and said: My lord, Sir
Launcelot, alas why be ye in this plight? and then she
swooned again. And then Sir Launcelot prayed Sir
Lavaine to take her up: And bring her to me. And
when she came to herself Sir Launcelot kissed her, and
said: Fair maiden, why fare ye thus? ye put me to pain;
wherefore make ye no more such cheer, for an ye be come
to comfort me ye be right welcome; and of this little hurt
that I have I shall be right hastily whole by the grace of
God. But I marvel, said Sir Launcelot, who told you my
name? Then the fair maiden told him all how Sir
Gawaine was lodged with her father: And there by your
shield he discovered your name. Alas, said Sir Launcelot,
that me repenteth that my name is known, for I am sure
it will turn unto anger. And then Sir Launcelot compassed
in his mind that Sir Gawaine would tell Queen
Guenever how he bare the red sleeve, and for whom; that
he wist well would turn into great anger.

So this maiden Elaine never went from Sir Launcelot,
but watched him day and night, and did such attendance
to him, that the French book saith there was never woman
did more kindlier for man than she. Then Sir Launcelot
prayed Sir Lavaine to make aspies in Winchester for Sir
Bors if he came there, and told him by what tokens he
should know him, by a wound in his forehead. For well
I am sure, said Sir Launcelot, that Sir Bors will seek me,
for he is the same good knight that hurt me.

CHAPTER XVI

How Sir Bors sought Launcelot and found him in the
hermitage, and of the lamentation between them.

NOW turn we unto Sir Bors de Ganis that came unto
Winchester to seek after his cousin Sir Launcelot. And
so when he came to Winchester, anon there were men
that Sir Lavaine had made to lie in a watch for such a
man, and anon Sir Lavaine had warning; and then Sir
Lavaine came to Winchester and found Sir Bors, and
there he told him what he was, and with whom he was,
and what was his name. Now fair knight, said Sir Bors,
I require you that ye will bring me to my lord, Sir
Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Lavaine, take your horse, and
within this hour ye shall see him. And so they departed,
and came to the hermitage.

And when Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot lie in his bed
pale and discoloured, anon Sir Bors lost his countenance,
and for kindness and pity he might not speak, but wept
tenderly a great while. And then when he might speak
he said thus: O my lord, Sir Launcelot, God you bless,
and send you hasty recover; and full heavy am I of my
misfortune and of mine unhappiness, for now I may call
myself unhappy. And I dread me that God is greatly
displeased with me, that he would suffer me to have such
a shame for to hurt you that are all our leader, and all our
worship; and therefore I call myself unhappy. Alas that
ever such a caitiff-knight as I am should have power by
unhappiness to hurt the most noblest knight of the world.
Where I so shamefully set upon you and overcharged you,
and where ye might have slain me, ye saved me; and so
did not I, for I and your blood did to you our utterance.
I marvel, said Sir Bors, that my heart or my blood would
serve me, wherefore my lord, Sir Launcelot, I ask your
mercy. Fair cousin, said Sir Launcelot, ye be right
welcome; and wit ye well, overmuch ye say for to please
me, the which pleaseth me not, for why I have the same I
sought; for I would with pride have overcome you all,
and there in my pride I was near slain, and that was in
mine own default, for I might have given you warning of
my being there. And then had I had no hurt, for it is an
old said saw, there is hard battle thereas kin and friends
do battle either against other, there may be no mercy but
mortal war. Therefore, fair cousin, said Sir Launcelot,
let this speech overpass, and all shall be welcome that God
sendeth; and let us leave off this matter and let us speak
of some rejoicing, for this that is done may not be
undone; and let us find a remedy how soon that I may
be whole.

Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bedside, and told Sir
Launcelot how the queen was passing wroth with him,
because he wore the red sleeve at the great jousts; and
there Sir Bors told him all how Sir Gawaine discovered it:
By your shield that ye left with the Fair Maiden of
Astolat. Then is the queen wroth, said Sir Launcelot
and therefore am I right heavy, for I deserved no wrath,
for all that I did was because I would not be known.
Right so excused I you, said Sir Bors, but all was in vain,
for she said more largelier to me than I to you now. But
is this she, said Sir Bors, that is so busy about you, that
men call the Fair Maiden of Astolat? She it is, said Sir
Launcelot, that by no means I cannot put her from me.
Why should ye put her from you? said Sir Bors, she is a
passing fair damosel, and a well beseen, and well taught;
and God would, fair cousin, said Sir Bors, that ye could
love her, but as to that I may not, nor I dare not, counsel
you. But I see well, said Sir Bors, by her diligence about
you that she loveth you entirely. That me repenteth,
said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Bors, she is not the first
that hath lost her pain upon you, and that is the more
pity: and so they talked of many more things. And so
within three days or four Sir Launcelot was big and strong
again.

CHAPTER XVII

How Sir Launcelot armed him to assay if he might bear
arms, and how his wounds brast out again.

THEN Sir Bors told Sir Launcelot how there was sworn a
great tournament and jousts betwixt King Arthur and the
King of Northgalis, that should be upon All Hallowmass
Day, beside Winchester. Is that truth? said Sir Launcelot;
then shall ye abide with me still a little while until that I
be whole, for I feel myself right big and strong. Blessed
be God, said Sir Bors. Then were they there nigh a month
together, and ever this maiden Elaine did ever her diligent
labour night and day unto Sir Launcelot, that there was
never child nor wife more meeker to her father and husband
than was that Fair Maiden of Astolat; wherefore Sir Bors
was greatly pleased with her.

So upon a day, by the assent of Sir Launcelot, Sir Bors,
and Sir Lavaine, they made the hermit to seek in woods
for divers herbs, and so Sir Launcelot made fair Elaine to
gather herbs for him to make him a bain. In the meanwhile
Sir Launcelot made him to arm him at all pieces;
and there he thought to assay his armour and his spear, for
his hurt or not. And so when he was upon his horse he
stirred him fiercely, and the horse was passing lusty and
fresh because he was not laboured a month afore. And
then Sir Launcelot couched that spear in the rest. That
courser leapt mightily when he felt the spurs; and he that
was upon him, the which was the noblest horse of the world,
strained him mightily and stably, and kept still the spear
in the rest; and therewith Sir Launcelot strained himself
so straitly, with so great force, to get the horse forward,
that the button of his wound brast both within and
without; and therewithal the blood came out so fiercely that
he felt himself so feeble that he might not sit upon his
horse. And then Sir Launcelot cried unto Sir Bors: Ah,
Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine, help, for I am come to mine end.
And therewith he fell down on the one side to the earth
like a dead corpse. And then Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine
came to him with sorrow-making out of measure. And
so by fortune the maiden Elaine heard their mourning, and
then she came thither; and when she found Sir Launcelot
there armed in that place she cried and wept as she had
been wood; and then she kissed him, and did what she
might to awake him. And then she rebuked her brother
and Sir Bors, and called them false traitors, why they would
take him out of his bed; there she cried, and said she would
appeal them of his death.

With this came the holy hermit, Sir Baudwin of Brittany,
and when he found Sir Launcelot in that plight he
said but little, but wit ye well he was wroth; and then he
bade them: Let us have him in. And so they all bare him
unto the hermitage, and unarmed him, and laid him in his
bed; and evermore his wound bled piteously, but he stirred
no limb of him. Then the knight-hermit put a thing in
his nose and a little deal of water in his mouth. And then
Sir Launcelot waked of his swoon, and then the hermit
staunched his bleeding. And when he might speak he
asked Sir Launcelot why he put his life in jeopardy. Sir,
said Sir Launcelot, because I weened I had been strong, and
also Sir Bors told me that there should be at All Hallowmass
a great jousts betwixt King Arthur and the King of
Northgalis, and therefore I thought to assay it myself
whether I might be there or not. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said
the hermit, your heart and your courage will never be done
until your last day, but ye shall do now by my counsel
Let Sir Bors depart from you, and let him do at that
tournament what he may: And by the grace of God, said
the knight-hermit, by that the tournament be done and ye
come hither again, Sir Launcelot shall be as whole as ye, so
that he will be governed by me.

CHAPTER XVIII

How Sir Bors returned and told tidings of Sir Launcelot;
and of the tourney, and to whom the prize was given.

THEN Sir Bors made him ready to depart from Sir Launcelot;
and then Sir Launcelot said: Fair cousin, Sir Bors,
recommend me unto all them unto whom me ought to
recommend me unto. And I pray you, enforce yourself
at that jousts that ye may be best, for my love; and here
shall I abide you at the mercy of God till ye come again.
And so Sir Bors departed and came to the court of King
Arthur, and told them in what place he had left Sir
Launcelot. That me repenteth, said the king, but since he shall
have his life we all may thank God. And there Sir Bors
told the queen in what jeopardy Sir Launcelot was when
he would assay his horse. And all that he did, madam,
was for the love of you, because he would have been at this
tournament. Fie on him, recreant knight, said the queen,
for wit ye well I am right sorry an he shall have his life.
His life shall he have, said Sir Bors, and who that would
otherwise, except you, madam, we that be of his blood
should help to short their lives. But madam, said Sir Bors,
ye have been oft-times displeased with my lord, Sir
Launcelot, but at all times at the end ye find him a true knight:
and so he departed.

And then every knight of the Round Table that were
there at that time present made them ready to be at that
jousts at All Hallowmass, and thither drew many knights
of divers countries. And as All Hallowmass drew near,
thither came the King of Northgalis, and the King with
the Hundred Knights, and Sir Galahad, the haut prince, of
Surluse, and thither came King Anguish of Ireland, and the
King of Scots. So these three kings came on King Arthur's
party. And so that day Sir Gawaine did great deeds of
arms, and began first. And the heralds numbered that Sir
Gawaine smote down twenty knights. Then Sir Bors de
Ganis came in the same time, and he was numbered that
he smote down twenty knights; and therefore the prize
was given betwixt them both, for they began first and
longest endured. Also Sir Gareth, as the book saith, did
that day great deeds of arms, for he smote down and pulled
down thirty knights. But when he had done these deeds
he tarried not but so departed, and therefore he lost his
prize. And Sir Palomides did great deeds of arms that
day, for he smote down twenty knights, but he departed
suddenly, and men deemed Sir Gareth and he rode together
to some manner adventures.

So when this tournament was done Sir Bors departed
and rode till he came to Sir Launcelot, his cousin; and
then he found him walking on his feet, and there either
made great joy of other; and so Sir Bors told Sir Launcelot
of all the Jousts like as ye have heard. I marvel, said Sir
Launcelot, that Sir Gareth, when he had done such deeds
of arms, that he would not tarry. Thereof we marvelled
all, said Sir Bors, for but if it were you, or Sir Tristram, or
Sir Lamorak de Galis, I saw never knight bear down so
many in so little a while as did Sir Gareth: and anon he
was gone we wist not where. By my head, said Sir Launcelot,
he is a noble knight, and a mighty man and well
breathed; and if he were well assayed, said Sir Launcelot
I would deem he were good enough for any knight that
beareth the life; and he is a gentle knight, courteous, true,
and bounteous, meek, and mild, and in him is no manner
of mal engin, but plain, faithful, and true.

So then they made them ready to depart from the
hermit. And so upon a morn they took their horses and
Elaine le Blank with them; and when they came to Astolat
there were they well lodged, and had great cheer of Sir
Bernard, the old baron, and of Sir Tirre, his son. And so
upon the morn when Sir Launcelot should depart, fair
Elaine brought her father with her, and Sir Lavaine, and
Sir Tirre, and thus she said:

CHAPTER XIX

Of the great lamentation of the Fair Maid of Astolat when
Launcelot should depart, and how she died for his love.

MY lord, Sir Launcelot, now I see ye will depart; now fair
knight and courteous knight, have mercy upon me, and
suffer me not to die for thy love. What would ye that I
did? said Sir Launcelot. I would have you to my husband,
said Elaine. Fair damosel, I thank you, said Sir Launcelot,
but truly, said he, I cast me never to be wedded man.
Then, fair knight, said she, will ye be my paramour? Jesu
defend me, said Sir Launcelot, for then I rewarded your
father and your brother full evil for their great goodness.
Alas, said she, then must I die for your love. Ye shall not
so, said Sir Launcelot, for wit ye well, fair maiden, I might
have been married an I had would, but I never applied me
to be married yet; but because, fair damosel, that ye love
me as ye say ye do, I will for your good will and kindness
show you some goodness, and that is this, that wheresomever
ye will beset your heart upon some good knight that
will wed you, I shall give you together a thousand pound
yearly to you and to your heirs; thus much will I give you,
fair madam, for your kindness, and always while I live to
be your own knight. Of all this, said the maiden, I will
none, for but if ye will wed me, or else be my paramour at
the least, wit you well, Sir Launcelot, my good days are
done. Fair damosel, said Sir Launcelot, of these two things
ye must pardon me.

Then she shrieked shrilly, and fell down in a swoon;
and then women bare her into her chamber, and there she
made over much sorrow; and then Sir Launcelot would
depart, and there he asked Sir Lavaine what he would do.
What should I do, said Sir Lavaine, but follow you, but
if ye drive me from you, or command me to go from you.
Then came Sir Bernard to Sir Launcelot and said to him:
I cannot see but that my daughter Elaine will die for your
sake. I may not do withal, said Sir Launcelot, for that
me sore repenteth, for I report me to yourself, that my
proffer is fair; and me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot, that
she loveth me as she doth; I was never the causer of it,
for I report me to your son I early ne late proffered her
bount nor fair behests; and as for me, said Sir Launcelot,
I dare do all that a knight should do that she is a clean
maiden for me, both for deed and for will. And I am
right heavy of her distress, for she is a full fair maiden,
good and gentle, and well taught. Father, said Sir
Lavaine, I dare make good she is a clean maiden as for my
lord Sir Launcelot; but she doth as I do, for sithen I first
saw my lord Sir Launcelot, I could never depart from him,
nor nought I will an I may follow him.

Then Sir Launcelot took his leave, and so they departed,
and came unto Winchester. And when Arthur
wist that Sir Launcelot was come whole and sound the
king made great joy of him, and so did Sir Gawaine and
all the knights of the Round Table except Sir Agravaine
and Sir Mordred. Also Queen Guenever was wood wroth
with Sir Launcelot, and would by no means speak with
him, but estranged herself from him; and Sir Launcelot
made all the means that he might for to speak with the
queen, but it would not be.

Now speak we of the Fair Maiden of Astolat that
made such sorrow day and night that she never slept, ate,
nor drank, and ever she made her complaint unto Sir
Launcelot. So when she had thus endured a ten days, that
she feebled so that she must needs pass out of this world,
then she shrived her clean, and received her Creator. And
ever she complained still upon Sir Launcelot. Then her
ghostly father bade her leave such thoughts. Then she
said, why should I leave such thoughts? Am I not an
earthly woman? And all the while the breath is in my
body I may complain me, for my belief is I do none offence
though I love an earthly man; and I take God to my
record I loved never none but Sir Launcelot du Lake, nor
never shall, and a clean maiden I am for him and for all
other; and sithen it is the sufferance of God that I shall
die for the love of so noble a knight, I beseech the High
Father of Heaven to have mercy upon my soul, and upon
mine innumerable pains that I suffered may be allegeance
of part of my sins. For sweet Lord Jesu, said the fair
maiden, I take Thee to record, on Thee I was never great
offencer against thy laws; but that I loved this noble
knight, Sir Launcelot, out of measure, and of myself, good
Lord, I might not withstand the fervent love wherefore I
have my death.

And then she called her father, Sir Bernard, and her
brother, Sir Tirre, and heartily she prayed her father that
her brother might write a letter like as she did indite it:
and so her father granted her. And when the letter was
written word by word like as she devised, then she prayed
her father that she might be watched until she were dead.
And while my body is hot let this letter be put in my right
hand, and my hand bound fast with the letter until that I
be cold; and let me be put in a fair bed with all the richest
clothes that I have about me, and so let my bed and all
my richest clothes be laid with me in a chariot unto the
next place where Thames is; and there let me be put
within a barget, and but one man with me, such as ye trust
to steer me thither, and that my barget be covered with
black samite over and over: thus father I beseech you let
it be done. So her father granted it her faithfully, all
things should be done like as she had devised. Then her
father and her brother made great dole, for when this was
done anon she died. And so when she was dead the corpse
and the bed all was led the next way unto Thames, and
there a man, and the corpse, and all, were put into Thames;
and so the man steered the barget unto Westminster, and
there he rowed a great while to and fro or any espied it.

CHAPTER XX

How the corpse of the Maid of Astolat arrived to-fore King
Arthur, and of the burying, and how Sir Launcelot
offered the mass-penny.

SO by fortune King Arthur and the Queen Guenever were
speaking together at a window, and so as they looked into
Thames they espied this black barget, and had marvel
what it meant. Then the king called Sir Kay, and showed
it him. Sir, said Sir Kay, wit you well there is some new
tidings. Go thither, said the king to Sir Kay, and take
with you Sir Brandiles and Agravaine, and bring me ready
word what is there. Then these four knights departed
and came to the barget and went in; and there they found
the fairest corpse lying in a rich bed, and a poor man
sitting in the barget's end, and no word would he speak.
So these four knights returned unto the king again, and
told him what they found. That fair corpse will I see,
said the king. And so then the king took the queen by
the hand, and went thither.

Then the king made the barget to be holden fast,
and then the king and the queen entered with certain
knights with them; and there he saw the fairest woman
lie in a rich bed, covered unto her middle with many
rich clothes, and all was of cloth of gold, and she lay as
though she had smiled. Then the queen espied a letter
in her right hand, and told it to the king. Then the king
took it and said: Now am I sure this letter will tell what
she was, and why she is come hither. So then the king
and the queen went out of the barget, and so commanded
a certain man to wait upon the barget.

And so when the king was come within his chamber,
he called many knights about him, and said that he would
wit openly what was written within that letter. Then the
king brake it, and made a clerk to read it, and this was
the intent of the letter. Most noble knight, Sir Launcelot,
now hath death made us two at debate for your love. I
was your lover, that men called the Fair Maiden of
Astolat; therefore unto all ladies I make my moan, yet
pray for my soul and bury me at least, and offer ye my
mass-penny: this is my last request. And a clean maiden
I died, I take God to witness: pray for my soul, Sir
Launcelot, as thou art peerless. This was all the substance
in the letter. And when it was read, the king, the queen,
and all the knights wept for pity of the doleful complaints.
Then was Sir Launcelot sent for; and when he was come
King Arthur made the letter to be read to him.

And when Sir Launcelot heard it word by word, he
said: My lord Arthur, wit ye well I am right heavy of
the death of this fair damosel: God knoweth I was never
causer of her death by my willing, and that will I report
me to her own brother: here he is, Sir Lavaine. I will
not say nay, said Sir Launcelot, but that she was both fair
and good, and much I was beholden unto her, but she
loved me out of measure. Ye might have shewed her, said
the queen, some bounty and gentleness that might have
preserved her life. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, she would
none other ways be answered but that she would be my
wife, outher else my paramour; and of these two I would
not grant her, but I proffered her, for her good love that
she shewed me, a thousand pound yearly to her, and to her
heirs, and to wed any manner knight that she could find
best to love in her heart. For madam, said Sir Launcelot,
I love not to be constrained to love; for love must arise
of the heart, and not by no constraint. That is truth,
said the king, and many knight's love is free in himself,
and never will be bounden, for where he is bounden
he looseth himself.

Then said the king unto Sir Launcelot: It will be
your worship that ye oversee that she be interred worshipfully.
Sir, said Sir Launcelot, that shall be done as I can
best devise. And so many knights yede thither to behold
that fair maiden. And so upon the morn she was interred
richly, and Sir Launcelot offered her mass-penny; and all
the knights of the Table Round that were there at that
time offered with Sir Launcelot. And then the poor man
went again with the barget. Then the queen sent for Sir
Launcelot, and prayed him of mercy, for why that she had
been wroth with him causeless. This is not the first time,
said Sir Launcelot, that ye had been displeased with me
causeless, but, madam, ever I must suffer you, but what
sorrow I endure I take no force. So this passed on all
that winter, with all manner of hunting and hawking, and
jousts and tourneys were many betwixt many great lords,
and ever in all places Sir Lavaine gat great worship, so
that he was nobly renowned among many knights of the
Table Round.

CHAPTER XXI

Of great jousts done all a Christmas, and of a great jousts and
tourney ordained by King Arthur, and of Sir Launcelot.

THUS it passed on till Christmas, and then every day
there was jousts made for a diamond, who that jousted
best should have a diamond. But Sir Launcelot would
not joust but if it were at a great jousts cried. But Sir
Lavaine jousted there all that Christmas passingly well,
and best was praised, for there were but few that did so
well. Wherefore all manner of knights deemed that Sir
Lavaine should be made knight of the Table Round at
the next feast of Pentecost. So at-after Christmas King
Arthur let call unto him many knights, and there they
advised together to make a party and a great tournament
and jousts. And the King of Northgalis said to Arthur,
he would have on his party King Anguish of Ireland, and
the King with the Hundred Knights, and the King of
Northumberland, and Sir Galahad, the haut prince. And
so these four kings and this mighty duke took part against
King Arthur and the knights of the Table Round. And
the cry was made that the day of the jousts should be
beside Westminster upon Candlemas Day, whereof many
knights were glad, and made them ready to be at that
jousts in the freshest manner.

Then Queen Guenever sent for Sir Launcelot, and said
thus: I warn you that ye ride no more in no jousts nor
tournaments but that your kinsmen may know you. And
at these jousts that shall be ye shall have of me a sleeve of
gold; and I pray you for my sake enforce yourself there,
that men may speak of you worship; but I charge you as
ye will have my love, that ye warn your kinsmen that ye
will bear that day the sleeve of gold upon your helmet.
Madam, said Sir Launcelot, it shall be done. And so
either made great joy of other. And when Sir Launcelot
saw his time he told Sir Bors that he would depart, and
have no more with him but Sir Lavaine, unto the good
hermit that dwelt in that forest of Windsor; his name
was Sir Brasias; and there he thought to repose him, and
take all the rest that he might, because he would be fresh
at that day of jousts.

So Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed, that no
creature wist where he was become, but the noble men of
his blood. And when he was come to the hermitage, wit
ye well he had good cheer. And so daily Sir Launcelot
would go to a well fast by the hermitage, and there he
would lie down, and see the well spring and burble, and
sometime he slept there. So at that time there was a lady
dwelt in that forest, and she was a great huntress, and
daily she used to hunt, and ever she bare her bow with
her; and no men went never with her, but always women,
and they were shooters, and could well kill a deer, both at
the stalk and at the trest; and they daily bare bows and
arrows, horns and wood-knives, and many good dogs they
had, both for the string and for a bait. So it happed this
lady the huntress had abated her dog for the bow at a
barren hind, and so this barren hind took the flight over
hedges and woods. And ever this lady and part of her
women costed the hind, and checked it by the noise of
the hounds, to have met with the hind at some water;
and so it happed, the hind came to the well whereas Sir
Launcelot was sleeping and slumbering. And so when
the hind came to the well, for heat she went to soil, and
there she lay a great while; and the dog came after, and
umbecast about, for she had lost the very perfect feute of
the hind. Right so came that lady the huntress, that
knew by the dog that she had, that the hind was at the
soil in that well; and there she came stiffly and found the
hind, and she put a broad arrow in her bow, and shot at
the hind, and over-shot the hind; and so by misfortune
the arrow smote Sir Launcelot in the thick of the buttock,
over the barbs. When Sir Launcelot felt himself so hurt,
he hurled up woodly, and saw the lady that had smitten
him. And when he saw she was a woman, he said thus:
Lady or damosel, what that thou be, in an evil time bear
ye a bow; the devil made you a shooter.

CHAPTER XXII

How Launcelot after that he was hurt of a gentlewoman
came to an hermit, and of other matters.

NOW mercy, fair sir, said the lady, I am a gentlewoman
that useth here in this forest hunting, and God knoweth I
saw ye not; but as here was a barren hind at the soil in
this well, and I weened to have done well, but my hand
swerved. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, ye have mischieved
me. And so the lady departed, and Sir Launcelot as he
might pulled out the arrow, and left that head still in his
buttock, and so he went weakly to the hermitage ever
more bleeding as he went. And when Sir Lavaine and
the hermit espied that Sir Launcelot was hurt, wit you
well they were passing heavy, but Sir Lavaine wist not
how that he was hurt nor by whom. And then were they
wroth out of measure.

Then with great pain the hermit gat out the arrow's
head out of Sir Launcelot's buttock, and much of his blood
he shed, and the wound was passing sore, and unhappily
smitten, for it was in such a place that he might not sit in
no saddle. Have mercy, Jesu, said Sir Launcelot, I may
call myself the most unhappiest man that liveth, for ever
when I would fainest have worship there befalleth me
ever some unhappy thing. Now so Jesu me help, said Sir
Launcelot, and if no man would but God, I shall be in the
field upon Candlemas Day at the jousts, whatsomever fall
of it: so all that might be gotten to heal Sir Launcelot
was had.

So when the day was come Sir Launcelot let devise
that he was arrayed, and Sir Lavaine, and their horses, as
though they had been Saracens; and so they departed and
came nigh to the field. The King of Northgalis with an
hundred knights with him, and the King of Northumberland
brought with him an hundred good knights, and
King Anguish of Ireland brought with him an hundred
good knights ready to joust, and Sir Galahad, the haut
prince, brought with him an hundred good knights, and
the King with the Hundred Knights brought with him
as many, and all these were proved good knights. Then
came in King Arthur's party; and there came in the
King of Scots with an hundred knights, and King Uriens
of Gore brought with him an hundred knights, and King
Howel of Brittany brought with him an hundred knights,
and Chaleins of Clarance brought with him an hundred
knights, and King Arthur himself came into the field
with two hundred knights, and the most part were
knights of the Table Round, that were proved noble
knights; and there were old knights set in scaffolds for
to judge, with the queen, who did best.

CHAPTER XXIII

How Sir Launcelot behaved him at the jousts, and
other men also.

THEN they blew to the field; and there the King of
Northgalis encountered with the King of Scots, and there
the King of Scots had a fall; and the King of Ireland
smote down King Uriens; and the King of Northumberland
smote down King Howel of Brittany; and Sir Galahad,
the haut prince, smote down Chaleins of Clarance.
And then King Arthur was wood wroth, and ran to the
King with the Hundred Knights, and there King Arthur
smote him down; and after with that same spear King
Arthur smote down three other knights. And then when
his spear was broken King Arthur did passingly well; and
so therewithal came in Sir Gawaine and Sir Gaheris, Sir
Agravaine and Sir Mordred, and there everych of them
smote down a knight, and Sir Gawaine smote down four
knights; and then there began a strong medley, for then
there came in the knights of Launcelot's blood, and Sir
Gareth and Sir Palomides with them, and many knights
of the Table Round, and they began to hold the four
kings and the mighty duke so hard that they were discomfit;
but this Duke Galahad, the haut prince, was a
noble knight, and by his mighty prowess of arms he held
the knights of the Table Round strait enough.

All this doing saw Sir Launcelot, and then he came
into the field with Sir Lavaine as it had been thunder.
And then anon Sir Bors and the knights of his blood
espied Sir Launcelot, and said to them all: I warn you
beware of him with the sleeve of gold upon his head, for
he is himself Sir Launcelot du Lake; and for great
goodness Sir Bors warned Sir Gareth. I am well apaid, said
Sir Gareth, that I may know him. But who is he, said
they all, that rideth with him in the same array? That is
the good and gentle knight Sir Lavaine, said Sir Bors. So
Sir Launcelot encountered with Sir Gawaine, and there by
force Sir Launcelot smote down Sir Gawaine and his horse
to the earth, and so he smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir
Gaheris, and also he smote down Sir Mordred, and all this
was with one spear. Then Sir Lavaine met with Sir
Palomides, and either met other so hard and so fiercely
that both their horses fell to the earth. And then were
they horsed again, and then met Sir Launcelot with Sir
Palomides, and there Sir Palomides had a fall; and so Sir
Launcelot or ever he stint, as fast as he might get spears,
he smote down thirty knights, and the most part of them
were knights of the Table Round; and ever the knights
of his blood withdrew them, and made them ado in other
places where Sir Launcelot came not.

And then King Arthur was wroth when he saw Sir
Launcelot do such deeds; and then the king called unto
him Sir Gawaine, Sir Mordred, Sir Kay, Sir Griflet, Sir
Lucan the Butler, Sir Bedivere, Sir Palomides, Sir Safere,
his brother; and so the king with these nine knights
made them ready to set upon Sir Launcelot, and upon Sir
Lavaine. All this espied Sir Bors and Sir Gareth. Now
I dread me sore, said Sir Bors, that my lord, Sir Launcelot,
will be hard matched. By my head, said Sir Gareth,
I will ride unto my lord Sir Launcelot, for to help him,
fall of him what fall may, for he is the same man that
made me knight. Ye shall not so, said Sir Bors, by my
counsel, unless that ye were disguised. Ye shall see me
disguised, said Sir Gareth; and therewithal he espied a
Welsh knight where he was to repose him, and he was
sore hurt afore by Sir Gawaine, and to him Sir Gareth
rode, and prayed him of his knighthood to lend him his
shield for his. I will well, said the Welsh knight. And
when Sir Gareth had his shield, the book saith it was
green, with a maiden that seemed in it.

Then Sir Gareth came driving to Sir Launcelot all
that he might and said: Knight, keep thyself, for yonder
cometh King Arthur with nine noble knights with him
to put you to a rebuke, and so I am come to bear you
fellowship for old love ye have shewed me. Gramercy,
said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Gareth, encounter ye
with Sir Gawaine, and I shall encounter with Sir Palomides;
and let Sir Lavaine match with the noble King
Arthur. And when we have delivered them, let us three
hold us sadly together. Then came King Arthur with
his nine knights with him, and Sir Launcelot encountered
with Sir Gawaine, and gave him such a buffet that the
arson of his saddle brast, and Sir Gawaine fell to the
earth. Then Sir Gareth encountered with the good
knight Sir Palomides, and he gave him such a buffet that
both his horse and he dashed to the earth. Then encountered
King Arthur with Sir Lavaine, and there either of
them smote other to the earth, horse and all, that they
lay a great while. Then Sir Launcelot smote down Sir
Agravaine, and Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred; and Sir
Gareth smote down Sir Kay, and Sir Safere, and Sir
Griflet. And then Sir Lavaine was horsed again, and he
smote down Sir Lucan the Butler and Sir Bedevere and
then there began great throng of good knights.

Then Sir Launcelot hurtled here and there, and raced
and pulled off helms, so that at that time there might
none sit him a buffet with spear nor with sword; and Sir
Gareth did such deeds of arms that all men marvelled
what knight he was with the green shield, for he smote
down that day and pulled down mo than thirty knights
And, as the French book saith, Sir Launcelot marvelled;
when he beheld Sir Gareth do such deeds, what knight he
might be; and Sir Lavaine pulled down and smote down
twenty knights. Also Sir Launcelot knew not Sir Gareth
for an Sir Tristram de Liones, outher Sir Lamorak de
Galis had been alive, Sir Launcelot would have deemed he
had been one of them twain. So ever as Sir Launcelot
Sir Gareth, Sir Lavaine fought, and on the one side Sir
Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lionel, Sir Lamorak de
Galis, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Pelleas,
and with mo other of King Ban's blood fought upon
another party, and held the King with the Hundred
Knights and the King of Northumberland right strait.

CHAPTER XXIV

How King Arthur marvelled much of the jousting in the field,
and how he rode and found Sir Launcelot.

SO this tournament and this jousts dured long, till it was
near night, for the knights of the Round Table relieved
ever unto King Arthur; for the king was wroth out of
measure that he and his knights might not prevail that
day. Then Sir Gawaine said to the king: I marvel where
all this day [be] Sir Bors de Ganis and his fellowship of Sir
Launcelot's blood, I marvel all this day they be not about
you: it is for some cause said Sir Gawaine. By my head,
said Sir Kay, Sir Bors is yonder all this day upon the right
hand of this field, and there he and his blood do more
worshipfully than we do. It may well be, said Sir Gawaine,
but I dread me ever of guile; for on pain of my life, said
Sir Gawaine, this knight with the red sleeve of gold is
himself Sir Launcelot, I see well by his riding and by his
great strokes; and the other knight in the same colours
is the good young knight, Sir Lavaine. Also that knight
with the green shield is my brother, Sir Gareth, and yet
he hath disguised himself, for no man shall never make
him be against Sir Launcelot, because he made him
knight. By my head, said Arthur, nephew, I believe
you; therefore tell me now what is your best counsel.
Sir, said Sir Gawaine, ye shall have my counsel: let blow
unto lodging, for an he be Sir Launcelot du Lake, and
my brother, Sir Gareth, with him, with the help of that
good young knight, Sir Lavaine, trust me truly it will be
no boot to strive with them but if we should fall ten or
twelve upon one knight, and that were no worship, but
shame. Ye say truth, said the king; and for to say
sooth, said the king, it were shame to us so many as we
be to set upon them any more; for wit ye well, said King
Arthur, they be three good knights, and namely that
knight with the sleeve of gold.

So then they blew unto lodging; but forthwithal King
Arthur let send unto the four kings, and to the mighty
duke, and prayed them that the knight with the sleeve of
gold depart not from them, but that the king may speak
with him. Then forthwithal King Arthur alighted and
unarmed him, and took a little hackney and rode after
Sir Launcelot, for ever he had a spy upon him. And so
he found him among the four kings and the duke; and
there the king prayed them all unto supper, and they
said they would with good will. And when they were
unarmed then King Arthur knew Sir Launcelot, Sir
Lavaine, and Sir Gareth. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said King
Arthur, this day ye have heated me and my knights.

So they yede unto Arthur's lodging all together, and
there was a great feast and great revel, and the prize was
given unto Sir Launcelot; and by heralds they named
him that he had smitten down fifty knights, and Sir
Gareth five-and-thirty, and Sir Lavaine four-and-twenty
knights. Then Sir Launcelot told the king and the
queen how the lady huntress shot him in the forest of
Windsor, in the buttock, with an broad arrow, and how
the wound thereof was that time six inches deep, and in
like long. Also Arthur blamed Sir Gareth because he
left his fellowship and held with Sir Launcelot. My lord,
said Sir Gareth, he made me a knight, and when I saw
him so hard bestead, methought it was my worship to
help him, for I saw him do so much, and so many noble
knights against him; and when I understood that he was
Sir Launcelot du Lake, I shamed to see so many knights
against him alone. Truly, said King Arthur unto Sir
Gareth, ye say well, and worshipfully have ye done and
to yourself great worship; and all the days of my life,
said King Arthur unto Sir Gareth, wit you well I shall
love you, and trust you the more better. For ever, said
Arthur, it is a worshipful knight's deed to help another
worshipful knight when he seeth him in a great danger;
for ever a worshipful man will be loath to see a worshipful
man shamed; and he that is of no worship, and fareth
with cowardice, never shall he show gentleness, nor no
manner of goodness where he seeth a man in any danger,
for then ever will a coward show no mercy; and always a
good man will do ever to another man as he would be
done to himself. So then there were great feasts unto
kings and dukes, and revel, game, and play, and all
manner of noblesse was used; and he that was courteous,
true, and faithful, to his friend was that time cherished.

CHAPTER XXV

How true love is likened to summer.

AND thus it passed on from Candlemass until after Easter,
that the month of May was come, when every lusty heart
beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit; for like
as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and flourish in May,
in like wise every lusty heart that is in any manner a lover,
springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth
unto all lovers courage, that lusty month of May, in
something to constrain him to some manner of thing
more in that month than in any other month, for divers
causes. For then all herbs and trees renew a man and
woman, and likewise lovers call again to their mind old
gentleness and old service, and many kind deeds that
were forgotten by negligence. For like as winter rasure
doth alway arase and deface green summer, so fareth it
by unstable love in man and woman. For in many persons
there is no stability; for we may see all day, for a little
blast of winter's rasure, anon we shall deface and lay apart
true love for little or nought, that cost much thing; this
is no wisdom nor stability, but it is feebleness of nature
and great disworship, whosomever useth this. Therefore,
like as May month flowereth and flourisheth in many
gardens, so in like wise let every man of worship flourish
his heart in this world, first unto God, and next unto the
joy of them that he promised his faith unto; for there
was never worshipful man or worshipful woman, but
they loved one better than another; and worship in arms
may never be foiled, but first reserve the honour to God,
and secondly the quarrel must come of thy lady: and
such love I call virtuous love.

But nowadays men can not love seven night but they
must have all their desires: that love may not endure by
reason; for where they be soon accorded and hasty heat,
soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love nowadays, soon hot
soon cold: this is no stability. But the old love was not
so; men and women could love together seven years, and
no licours lusts were between them, and then was love,
truth, and faithfulness: and lo, in like wise was used love
in King Arthur's days. Wherefore I liken love nowadays
unto summer and winter; for like as the one is hot and the
other cold, so fareth love nowadays; therefore all ye that
be lovers call unto your remembrance the month of May,
like as did Queen Guenever, for whom I make here a little
mention, that while she lived she was a true lover, and
therefore she had a good end.

And here followeth liber xix.>

BOOK XIX

CHAPTER I

How Queen Guenever rode a-Maying with certain knights of
the Round Table and clad all in green.

SO it befell in the month of May, Queen Guenever called
unto her knights of the Table Round; and she gave them
warning that early upon the morrow she would ride a-Maying
into woods and fields beside Westminster. And I
warn you that there be none of you but that he be well
horsed, and that ye all be clothed in green, outher in silk
outher in cloth; and I shall bring with me ten ladies, and
every knight shall have a lady behind him, and every
knight shall have a squire and two yeomen; and I will
that ye all be well horsed. So they made them ready in
the freshest manner. And these were the names of the
knights: Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir Agravaine, Sir Brandiles,
Sir Sagramore le Desirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir
Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir Ladinas of the Forest Savage,
Sir Persant of Inde, Sir Ironside, that was called the Knight
of the Red Launds, and Sir Pelleas, the lover; and these
ten knights made them ready in the freshest manner to ride
with the queen. And so upon the morn they took their
horses with the queen, and rode a-Maying in woods and
meadows as it pleased them, in great joy and delights; for
the queen had cast to have been again with King Arthur
at the furthest by ten of the clock, and so was that time
her purpose.

Then there was a knight that hight Meliagrance, and
he was son unto King Bagdemagus, and this knight had at
that time a castle of the gift of King Arthur within seven
mile of Westminster. And this knight, Sir Meliagrance,
loved passing well Queen Guenever, and so had he done
long and many years. And the book saith he had lain in
await for to steal away the queen, but evermore he forbare
for because of Sir Launcelot; for in no wise he would
meddle with the queen an Sir Launcelot were in her company,
outher else an he were near-hand her. And that
time was such a custom, the queen rode never without a
great fellowship of men of arms about her, and they were
many good knights, and the most part were young men
that would have worship; and they were called the Queen's
Knights, and never in no battle, tournament, nor jousts,
they bare none of them no manner of knowledging of their
own arms, but plain white shields, and thereby they were
called the Queen's Knights. And then when it happed
any of them to be of great worship by his noble deeds,
then at the next Feast of Pentecost, if there were any slain
or dead, as there was none year that there failed but some
were dead, then was there chosen in his stead that was
dead the most men of worship, that were called the Queen's
Knights. And thus they came up all first, or they were
renowned men of worship, both Sir Launcelot and all the
remnant of them.

But this knight, Sir Meliagrance, had espied the queen
well and her purpose, and how Sir Launcelot was not with
her, and how she had no men of arms with her but the ten
noble knights all arrayed in green for Maying. Then he
purveyed him a twenty men of arms and an hundred
archers for to destroy the queen and her knights, for he
thought that time was best season to take the queen.

CHAPTER II

How Sir Meliagrance took the queen and her knights, which
were sore hurt in fighting

SO as the queen had Mayed and all her knights, all were
bedashed with herbs, mosses and flowers, in the best
manner and freshest. Right so came out of a wood Sir
Meliagrance with an eight score men well harnessed, as
they should fight in a battle of arrest, and bade the queen
and her knights abide, for maugre their heads they should
abide. Traitor knight, said Queen Guenever, what cast
thou for to do? Wilt thou shame thyself? Bethink thee
how thou art a king's son, and knight of the Table Round,
and thou to be about to dishonour the noble king that
made thee knight; thou shamest all knighthood and thyself,
and me, I let thee wit, shalt thou never shame, for I had
liefer cut mine own throat in twain rather than thou
shouldest dishonour me. As for all this language, said Sir
Meliagrance, be it as it be may, for wit you well, madam,
I have loved you many a year, and never or now could I
get you at such an advantage as I do now, and therefore I
will take you as I find you.

Then spake all the ten noble knights at once and said:
Sir Meliagrance, wit thou well ye are about to jeopard your
worship to dishonour, and also ye cast to jeopard our
persons howbeit we be unarmed. Ye have us at a great
avail, for it seemeth by you that ye have laid watch upon
us; but rather than ye should put the queen to a shame
and us all, we had as lief to depart from our lives, for an if
we other ways did, we were shamed for ever. Then said
Sir Meliagrance: Dress you as well ye can, and keep the
queen. Then the ten knights of the Table Round drew
their swords, and the other let run at them with their
spears, and the ten knights manly abode them, and smote
away their spears that no spear did them none harm. Then
they lashed together with swords, and anon Sir Kay, Sir
Sagramore, Sir Agravaine, Sir Dodinas, Sir Ladinas, and
Sir Ozanna were smitten to the earth with grimly wounds.
Then Sir Brandiles, and Sir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir
Pelleas fought long, and they were sore wounded, for
these ten knights, or ever they were laid to the ground,
slew forty men of the boldest and the best of them.

So when the queen saw her knights thus dolefully
wounded, and needs must be slain at the last, then for pity
and sorrow she cried Sir Meliagrance: Slay not my noble
knights, and I will go with thee upon this covenant, that
thou save them, and suffer them not to be no more hurt,
with this, that they be led with me wheresomever thou
leadest me, for I will rather slay myself than I will go
with thee, unless that these my noble knights may be in my
presence. Madam, said Meliagrance, for your sake they
shall be led with you into mine own castle, with that ye will
be ruled, and ride with me. Then the queen prayed the
four knights to leave their fighting, and she and they
would not depart. Madam, said Sir Pelleas, we will do as
ye do, for as for me I take no force of my life nor death.
For as the French book saith, Sir Pelleas gave such buffets
there that none armour might hold him.

CHAPTER III

How Sir Launcelot had word how the queen was taken, and
how Sir Meliagrance laid a bushment for Launcelot

THEN by the queen's commandment they left battle, and
dressed the wounded knights on horseback, some sitting,
some overthwart their horses, that it was pity to behold
them. And then Sir Meliagrance charged the queen and
all her knights that none of all her fellowship should
depart from her; for full sore he dread Sir Launcelot du
Lake, lest he should have any knowledging. All this
espied the queen, and privily she called unto her a child of
her chamber that was swiftly horsed, to whom she said:
Go thou, when thou seest thy time, and bear this ring unto
Sir Launcelot du Lake, and pray him as he loveth me that
he will see me and rescue me, if ever he will have joy of
me; and spare not thy horse, said the queen, neither for
water, neither for land. So the child espied his time, and
lightly he took his horse with the spurs, and departed as
fast as he might. And when Sir Meliagrance saw him so
flee, he understood that it was by the queen's commandment
for to warn Sir Launcelot. Then they that were
best horsed chased him and shot at him, but from them all
the child went suddenly. And then Sir Meliagrance said
to the queen: Madam, ye are about to betray me, but I
shall ordain for Sir Launcelot that he shall not come lightly
at you. And then he rode with her, and they all, to his
castle, in all the haste that they might. And by the way
Sir Meliagrance laid in an embushment the best archers
that he might get in his country, to the number of thirty,
to await upon Sir Launcelot, charging them that if they
saw such a manner of knight come by the way upon a
white horse, that in any wise they slay his horse, but in no
manner of wise have not ado with him bodily, for he is
over-hardy to be overcome.

So this was done, and they were come to his castle, but
in no wise the queen would never let none of the ten
knights and her ladies out of her sight, but always they
were in her presence; for the book saith, Sir Meliagrance
durst make no masteries, for dread of Sir Launcelot, insomuch
he deemed that he had warning. So when the child
was departed from the fellowship of Sir Meliagrance,
within a while he came to Westminster, and anon he found
Sir Launcelot. And when he had told his message, and
delivered him the queen's ring: Alas, said Sir Launcelot,
now I am shamed for ever, unless that I may rescue that
noble lady from dishonour. Then eagerly he asked his
armour; and ever the child told Sir Launcelot how the
ten knights fought marvellously, and how Sir Pelleas, and
Sir Ironside, and Sir Brandiles, and Sir Persant of Inde,
fought strongly, but namely Sir Pelleas, there might none
withstand him; and how they all fought till at the last they
were laid to the earth; and then the queen made appointment
for to save their lives, and go with Sir Meliagrance.

Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that most noble lady, that she
should be so destroyed; I had liefer, said Sir Launcelot,
than all France, that I had been there well armed. So
when Sir Launcelot was armed and upon his horse, he
prayed the child of the queen's chamber to warn Sir
Lavaine how suddenly he was departed, and for what cause.
And pray him as he loveth me, that he will hie him after
me, and that he stint not until he come to the castle where
Sir Meliagrance abideth, or dwelleth; for there, said Sir
Launcelot, he shall hear of me an I am a man living, and
rescue the queen and the ten knights the which he traitorously
hath taken, and that shall I prove upon his head, and
all them that hold with him.

CHAPTER IV

How Sir Launcelot's horse was slain, and how Sir Launcelot
rode in a cart for to rescue the queen

THEN Sir Launcelot rode as fast as he might, and the
book saith he took the water at Westminster Bridge, and
made his horse to swim over Thames unto Lambeth.
And then within a while he came to the same place thereas
the ten noble knights fought with Sir Meliagrance. And
then Sir Launcelot followed the track until that he came
to a wood, and there was a straight way, and there the
thirty archers bade Sir Launcelot turn again, and follow
no longer that track. What commandment have ye
thereto, said Sir Launcelot, to cause me that am a knight
of the Round Table to leave my right way? This way
shalt thou leave, other-else thou shalt go it on thy foot,
for wit thou well thy horse shall be slain. That is little
mastery, said Sir Launcelot, to slay mine horse; but as
for myself, when my horse is slain, I give right nought
for you, not an ye were five hundred more. So then they
shot Sir Launcelot's horse, and smote him with many
arrows; and then Sir Launcelot avoided his horse, and
went on foot; but there were so many ditches and hedges
betwixt them and him that he might not meddle with
none of them. Alas for shame, said Launcelot, that ever
one knight should betray another knight; but it is an old
saw, A good man is never in danger but when he is in the
danger of a coward. Then Sir Launcelot went a while,
and then he was foul cumbered of his armour, his shield,
and his spear, and all that longed unto him. Wit ye well
he was full sore annoyed, and full loath he was for to leave
anything that longed unto him, for he dread sore the
treason of Sir Meliagrance.

Then by fortune there came by him a chariot that
came thither for to fetch wood. Say me, carter, said Sir
Launcelot, what shall I give thee to suffer me to leap
into thy chariot, and that thou bring me unto a castle
within this two mile? Thou shalt not come within my
chariot, said the carter, for I am sent for to fetch wood
for my lord, Sir Meliagrance. With him would I speak.
Thou shalt not go with me, said the carter. Then Sir
Launcelot leapt to him, and gave him such a buffet that
he fell to the earth stark dead. Then the other carter,
his fellow, was afeard, and weened to have gone the same
way; and then he cried: Fair lord, save my life, and I
shall bring you where ye will. Then I charge thee, said
Sir Launcelot, that thou drive me and this chariot even
unto Sir Meliagrance's gate. Leap up into the chariot, said
the carter, and ye shall be there anon. So the carter drove on
a great wallop, and Sir Launcelot's horse followed the chariot,
with more than a forty arrows broad and rough in him.

And more than an hour and an half Dame Guenever
was awaiting in a bay window with her ladies, and espied
an armed knight standing in a chariot. See, madam, said
a lady, where rideth in a chariot a goodly armed knight;
I suppose he rideth unto hanging. Where? said the
queen. Then she espied by his shield that he was there
himself, Sir Launcelot du Lake. And then she was ware
where came his horse ever after that chariot, and ever he
trod his guts and his paunch under his feet. Alas, said
the queen, now I see well and prove, that well is him that
hath a trusty friend. Ha, ha, most noble knight, said
Queen Guenever, I see well thou art hard bestead when thou
ridest in a chariot. Then she rebuked that lady that likened
Sir Launcelot to ride in a chariot to hanging. It was foul
mouthed, said the queen, and evil likened, so for to liken the
most noble knight of the world unto such a shameful death.
O Jesu defend him and keep him, said the queen, from
all mischievous end. By this was Sir Launcelot come to
the gates of that castle, and there he descended down, and
cried, that all the castle rang of it: Where art thou, false
traitor, Sir Meliagrance, and knight of the Table Round?
now come forth here, thou traitor knight, thou and thy
fellowship with thee; for here I am, Sir Launcelot du
Lake, that shall fight with you. And therewithal he bare
the gate wide open upon the porter, and smote him under
his ear with his gauntlet, that his neck brast a-sunder.

CHAPTER V

How Sir Meliagrance required forgiveness of the queen, and
how she appeased Sir Launcelot; and other matters

WHEN Sir Meliagrance heard that Sir Launcelot was there
he ran unto Queen Guenever, and fell upon his knee, and
said: Mercy, madam, now I put me wholly into your
grace. What aileth you now? said Queen Guenever;
forsooth I might well wit some good knight would revenge
me, though my lord Arthur wist not of this your work.
Madam, said Sir Meliagrance, all this that is amiss on my
part shall be amended right as yourself will devise, and
wholly I put me in your grace. What would ye that I
did? said the queen. I would no more, said Meliagrance,
but that ye would take all in your own hands, and that ye
will rule my lord Sir Launcelot; and such cheer as may
be made him in this poor castle ye and he shall have until
to-morn, and then may ye and all they return unto Westminster;
and my body and all that I have I shall put in your
rule. Ye say well, said the queen, and better is peace than
ever war, and the less noise the more is my worship.

Then the queen and her ladies went down unto the
knight, Sir Launcelot, that stood wroth out of measure in
the inner court, to abide battle; and ever he bade: Thou
traitor knight come forth. Then the queen came to him
and said: Sir Launcelot, why be ye so moved? Ha,
madam, said Sir Launcelot, why ask ye me that question?
Meseemeth, said Sir Launcelot, ye ought to be more wroth
than I am, for ye have the hurt and the dishonour, for wit
ye well, madam, my hurt is but little for the killing of a
mare's son, but the despite grieveth me much more than
all my hurt. Truly, said the queen, ye say truth; but
heartily I thank you, said the queen, but ye must come in
with me peaceably, for all thing is put in my hand, and all
that is evil shall be for the best, for the knight full sore
repenteth him of the misadventure that is befallen him.
Madam, said Sir Launcelot, sith it is so that ye been
accorded with him, as for me I may not be again it,
howbeit Sir Meliagrance hath done full shamefully to me,
and cowardly. Ah madam, said Sir Launcelot, an I had
wist ye would have been so soon accorded with him I
would not have made such haste unto you. Why say ye
so, said the queen, do ye forthink yourself of your good
deeds? Wit you well, said the queen, I accorded never
unto him for favour nor love that I had unto him, but
for to lay down every shameful noise. Madam, said Sir
Launcelot, ye understand full well I was never willing nor
glad of shameful slander nor noise; and there is neither
king, queen, nor knight, that beareth the life, except my
lord King Arthur, and you, madam, should let me, but I
should make Sir Meliagrance's heart full cold or ever I
departed from hence. That wot I well, said the queen,
but what will ye more? Ye shall have all thing ruled as
ye list to have it. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, so ye be
pleased I care not, as for my part ye shall soon please.

Right so the queen took Sir Launcelot by the bare
hand, for he had put off his gauntlet, and so she went
with him till her chamber; and then she commanded him
to be unarmed. And then Sir Launcelot asked where
were the ten knights that were wounded sore; so she
showed them unto Sir Launcelot, and there they made
great joy of the coming of him, and Sir Launcelot made
great dole of their hurts, and bewailed them greatly. And
there Sir Launcelot told them how cowardly and traitorly
Meliagrance set archers to slay his horse, and how he was
fain to put himself in a chariot. Thus they complained
everych to other; and full fain they would have been
revenged, but they peaced themselves because of the queen.
Then, as the French book saith, Sir Launcelot was called
many a day after le Chevaler du Chariot, and did many
deeds, and great adventures he had. And so leave we of
this tale le Chevaler du Chariot, and turn we to this tale.

So Sir Launcelot had great cheer with the queen, and
then Sir Launcelot made a promise with the queen that the
same night Sir Launcelot should come to a window outward
toward a garden; and that window was y-barred with
iron, and there Sir Launcelot promised to meet her when
all folks were asleep. So then came Sir Lavaine driving
to the gates, crying: Where is my lord, Sir Launcelot du
Lake? Then was he sent for, and when Sir Lavaine saw
Sir Launcelot, he said: My lord, I found well how ye
were hard bestead, for I have found your horse that was
slain with arrows. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, I pray
you, Sir Lavaine, speak ye of other matters, and let ye
this pass, and we shall right it another time when we
best may.

CHAPTER VI

How Sir Launcelot came in the night to the queen and lay
with her, and how Sir Meliagrance appeached the
queen of treason

THEN the knights that were hurt were searched, and soft
salves were laid to their wounds; and so it passed on till
supper time, and all the cheer that might be made them
there was done unto the queen and all her knights. Then
when season was, they went unto their chambers, but in
no wise the queen would not suffer the wounded knights
to be from her, but that they were laid within draughts by
her chamber, upon beds and pillows, that she herself might
see to them, that they wanted nothing.

So when Sir Launcelot was in his chamber that was
assigned unto him, he called unto him Sir Lavaine, and
told him that night he must go speak with his lady, Dame
Guenever. Sir, said Sir Lavaine, let me go with you an
it please you, for I dread me sore of the treason of Sir
Meliagrance. Nay, said Sir Launcelot, I thank you, but
I will have nobody with me. Then Sir Launcelot took
his sword in his hand, and privily went to a place where
he had espied a ladder to-forehand, and that he took under
his arm, and bare it through the garden, and set it up to
the window, and there anon the queen was ready to meet
him. And then they made either to other their complaints
of many divers things, and then Sir Launcelot
wished that he might have come into her. Wit ye well,
said the queen, I would as fain as ye, that ye might come
in to me. Would ye, madam, said Sir Launcelot, with
your heart that I were with you? Yea, truly, said the
queen. Now shall I prove my might, said Sir Launcelot,
for your love; and then he set his hands upon the bars
of iron, and he pulled at them with such a might that he
brast them clean out of the stone walls, and therewithal
one of the bars of iron cut the brawn of his hands
throughout to the bone; and then he leapt into the chamber
to the queen. Make ye no noise, said the queen, for my
wounded knights lie here fast by me. So, to pass upon
this tale, Sir Launcelot went unto bed with the queen, and
he took no force of his hurt hand, but took his pleasaunce
and his liking until it was in the dawning of the day; and
wit ye well he slept not but watched, and when he saw his
time that he might tarry no longer he took his leave and
departed at the window, and put it together as well as he
might again, and so departed unto his own chamber; and
there he told Sir Lavaine how he was hurt. Then Sir
Lavaine dressed his hand and staunched it, and put upon
it a glove, that it should not be espied; and so the queen
lay long in her bed until it was nine of the clock.

Then Sir Meliagrance went to the queen's chamber,
and found her ladies there ready clothed. Jesu mercy,
said Sir Meliagrance, what aileth you, madam, that ye
sleep thus long? And right therewithal he opened the
curtain for to behold her; and then was he ware where
she lay, and all the sheet and pillow was bebled with the
blood of Sir Launcelot and of his hurt hand. When Sir
Meliagrance espied that blood, then he deemed in her
that she was false to the king, and that some of the
wounded knights had lain by her all that night. Ah,
madam, said Sir Meliagrance, now I have found you a
false traitress unto my lord Arthur; for now I prove well
it was not for nought that ye laid these wounded knights
within the bounds of your chamber; therefore I will
call you of treason before my lord, King Arthur. And
now I have proved you, madam, with a shameful deed;
and that they be all false, or some of them, I will make
good, for a wounded knight this night hath lain by you.
That is false, said the queen, and that I will report me
unto them all. Then when the ten knights heard Sir
Meliagrance's words, they spake all in one voice and said
to Sir Meliagrance: Thou sayest falsely, and wrongfully
puttest upon us such a deed, and that we will make good
any of us; choose which thou list of us when we are whole
of our wounds. Ye shall not, said Sir Meliagrance, away
with your proud language, for here ye may all see, said
Sir Meliagrance, that by the queen this night a wounded
knight hath lain. Then were they all ashamed when they
saw that blood; and wit you well Sir Meliagrance was
passing glad that he had the queen at such an advantage,
for he deemed by that to hide his treason. So with this
rumour came in Sir Launcelot, and found them all at a
great array.

CHAPTER VII

How Sir Launcelot answered for the queen, and waged battle
against Sir Meliagrance; and how Sir Launcelot was
taken in a trap

WHAT array is this? said Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Meliagrance
told them what he had found, and showed them
the queen's bed. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, ye did not
your part nor knightly, to touch a queen's bed while it
was drawn, and she lying therein; for I dare say my lord
Arthur himself would not have displayed her curtains, she
being within her bed, unless that it had pleased him to
have lain down by her; and therefore ye have done
unworshipfully and shamefully to yourself. I wot not
what ye mean, said Sir Meliagrance, but well I am sure
there hath one of her wounded knights lain by her this
night, and therefore I will prove with my hands that she
is a traitress unto my lord Arthur. Beware what ye do,
said Launcelot, for an ye say so, an ye will prove it, it
will be taken at your hands.

My lord, Sir Launcelot, said Sir Meliagrance, I rede
you beware what ye do; for though ye are never so good
a knight, as ye wot well ye are renowned the best knight
of the world, yet should ye be advised to do battle in a
wrong quarrel, for God will have a stroke in every battle.
As for that, said Sir Launcelot, God is to be dread; but
as to that I say nay plainly, that this night there lay none
of these ten wounded knights with my lady Queen
Guenever, and that will I prove with my hands, that ye
say untruly in that now. Hold, said Sir Meliagrance,
here is my glove that she is traitress unto my lord,
King Arthur, and that this night one of the wounded
knights lay with her. And I receive your glove, said Sir
Launcelot. And so they were sealed with their signets,
and delivered unto the ten knights. At what day shall
we do battle together? said Sir Launcelot. This day
ight days, said Sir Meliagrance, in the field beside
Westminster. I am agreed, said Sir Launcelot. But now, said
Sir Meliagrance, sithen it is so that we must fight together,
I pray you, as ye be a noble knight, await me with no
treason, nor none villainy the meanwhile, nor none for
you. So God me help, said Sir Launcelot, ye shall right
well wit I was never of no such conditions, for I report
me to all knights that ever have known me, I fared never
with no treason, nor I loved never the fellowship of no
man that fared with treason. Then let us go to dinner,
said Meliagrance, and after dinner ye and the queen and
ye may ride all to Westminster. I will well, said Sir
Launcelot.

Then Sir Meliagrance said to Sir Launcelot: Pleaseth
it you to see the estures of this castle? With a good
will, said Sir Launcelot. And then they went together
from chamber to chamber, for Sir Launcelot dread no
perils; for ever a man of worship and of prowess dreadeth
least always perils, for they ween every man be as they
be; but ever he that fareth with treason putteth oft a man
in great danger. So it befell upon Sir Launcelot that no
peril dread, as he went with Sir Meliagrance he trod on
a trap and the board rolled, and there Sir Launcelot fell
down more than ten fathom into a cave full of straw;
and then Sir Meliagrance departed and made no fare as
that he nist where he was.

And when Sir Launcelot was thus missed they marvelled
where he was become; and then the queen and many of
them deemed that he was departed as he was wont to do
suddenly. For Sir Meliagrance made suddenly to put
away aside Sir Lavaine's horse, that they might all
understand that Sir Launcelot was departed suddenly. So it
passed on till after dinner; and then Sir Lavaine would
not stint until that he ordained litters for the wounded
knights, that they might be laid in them; and so with the
queen and them all, both ladies and gentlewomen and other,
went unto Westminster; and there the knights told King
Arthur how Meliagrance had appealed the queen of high
treason, and how Sir Launcelot had received the glove of
him: And this day eight days they shall do battle afore
you. By my head, said King Arthur, I am afeard Sir
Meliagrance hath taken upon him a great charge; but
where is Sir Launcelot? said the king. Sir, said they all,
we wot not where he is, but we deem he is ridden to some
adventures, as he is ofttimes wont to do, for he hath Sir
Lavaine's horse. Let him be, said the king, he will be
founden, but if he be trapped with some treason.

CHAPTER VIII

How Sir Launcelot was delivered out of prison by a lady,
and took a white courser and came for to keep his day

SO leave we Sir Launcelot lying within that cave in great
pain; and every day there came a lady and brought him
his meat and his drink, and wooed him, to have lain by
him; and ever the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, said her
nay. Sir Launcelot, said she, ye are not wise, for ye may
never out of this prison, but if ye have my help; and
also your lady, Queen Guenever, shall be brent in your
default, unless that ye be there at the day of battle. God
defend, said Sir Launcelot, that she should be brent in my
default; and if it be so, said Sir Launcelot, that I may not
be there, it shall be well understanded, both at the king and
at the queen, and with all men of worship, that I am dead,
sick, outher in prison. For all men that know me will
say for me that I am in some evil case an I be not there
that day; and well I wot there is some good knight either
of my blood, or some other that loveth me, that will take
my quarrel in hand; and therefore, said Sir Launcelot, wit
ye well ye shall not fear me; and if there were no more
women in all this land but ye, I will not have ado with
you. Then art thou shamed, said the lady, and destroyed
for ever. As for world's shame, Jesu defend me, and as
for my distress, it is welcome whatsoever it be that God
sendeth me.

So she came to him the same day that the battle should
be, and said: Sir Launcelot, methinketh ye are too
hard-hearted, but wouldest thou but kiss me once I should
deliver thee, and thine armour, and the best horse that is
within Sir Meliagrance's stable. As for to kiss you, said
Sir Launcelot, I may do that and lose no worship; and
wit ye well an I understood there were any disworship
for to kiss you I would not do it. Then he kissed her,
and then she gat him, and brought him to his armour.
And when he was armed, she brought him to a stable,
where stood twelve good coursers, and bade him choose
the best. Then Sir Launcelot looked upon a white
courser the which liked him best; and anon he commanded
the keepers fast to saddle him with the best saddle
of war that there was; and so it was done as he bade.
Then gat he his spear in his hand, and his sword by his
side, and commended the lady unto God, and said: Lady,
for this good deed I shall do you service if ever it be in
my power.

CHAPTER IX

How Sir Launcelot came the same time that Sir Meliagrance
abode him in the field and dressed him to battle

NOW leave we Sir Launcelot wallop all that he might, and
speak we of Queen Guenever that was brought to a fire to
be brent; for Sir Meliagrance was sure, him thought, that
Sir Launcelot should not be at that battle; therefore he
ever cried upon King Arthur to do him justice, other-else
bring forth Sir Launcelot du Lake. Then was the king
and all the court full sore abashed and shamed that the
queen should be brent in the default of Sir Launcelot.
My lord Arthur, said Sir Lavaine, ye may understand that
it is not well with my lord Sir Launcelot, for an he were
alive, so he be not sick outher in prison, wit ye well he
would be here; for never heard ye that ever he failed his
part for whom he should do battle for. And therefore,
said Sir Lavaine, my lord, King Arthur, I beseech you
give me license to do battle here this day for my lord and
master, and for to save my lady, the queen. Gramercy
gentle Sir Lavaine, said King Arthur, for I dare say all
that Sir Meliagrance putteth upon my lady the queen is
wrong, for I have spoken with all the ten wounded
knights, and there is not one of them, an he were whole
and able to do battle, but he would prove upon Sir
Meliagrance's body that it is false that he putteth upon
my queen. So shall I, said Sir Lavaine, in the defence of
my lord, Sir Launcelot, an ye will give me leave. Now
I give you leave, said King Arthur, and do your best,
for I dare well say there is some treason done to Sir
Launcelot

Then was Sir Lavaine armed and horsed, and suddenly
at the lists' end he rode to perform this battle; and right
as the heralds should cry: Lesses les aler, right so came in
Sir Launcelot driving with all the force of his horse. And
then Arthur cried: Ho! and Abide! Then was Sir
Launcelot called on horseback to-fore King Arthur, and
there he told openly to-fore the king and all, how Sir
Meliagrance had served him first to last. And when the
king, and the queen, and all the lords, knew of the
treason of Sir Meliagrance they were all ashamed on his
behalf. Then was Queen Guenever sent for, and set by the
king in great trust of her champion. And then there was
no more else to say, but Sir Launcelot and Sir Meliagrance
dressed them unto battle, and took their spears; and so
they came together as thunder, and there Sir Launcelot
bare him down quite over his horse's croup. And then
Sir Launcelot alighted and dressed his shield on his
shoulder, with his sword in his hand, and Sir Meliagrance
in the same wise dressed him unto him, and there they
smote many great strokes together; and at the last Sir
Launcelot smote him such a buffet upon the helmet that
he fell on the one side to the earth. And then he cried
upon him aloud: Most noble knight, Sir Launcelot du
Lake, save my life, for I yield me unto you, and I require
you, as ye be a knight and fellow of the Table Round,
slay me not, for I yield me as overcome; and whether I
shall live or die I put me in the king's hands and yours.

Then Sir Launcelot wist not what to do, for he had had
liefer than all the good of the world he might have been
revenged upon Sir Meliagrance; and Sir Launcelot looked
up to the Queen Guenever, if he might espy by any sign
or countenance what she would have done. And then the
queen wagged her head upon Sir Launcelot, as though she
would say: Slay him. Full well knew Sir Launcelot by
the wagging of her head that she would have him dead;
then Sir Launcelot bade him rise for shame and perform
that battle to the utterance. Nay, said Sir Meliagrance, I
will never arise until ye take me as yolden and recreant.
I shall proffer you large proffers, said Sir Launcelot, that
is for to say, I shall unarm my head and my left quarter
of my body, all that may be unarmed, and let bind my
left hand behind me, so that it shall not help me, and
right so I shall do battle with you. Then Sir Meliagrance
started up upon his legs, and said on high: My lord
Arthur, take heed to this proffer, for I will take it, and
let him be disarmed and bounden according to his proffer.
What say ye, said King Arthur unto Sir Launcelot, will ye
abide by your proffer? Yea, my lord, said Sir Launcelot,
I will never go from that I have once said.

Then the knights parters of the field disarmed Sir
Launcelot, first his head, and sithen his left arm, and his
left side, and they bound his left arm behind his back,
without shield or anything, and then they were put
together. Wit you well there was many a lady and
knight marvelled that Sir Launcelot would jeopardy
himself in such wise. Then Sir Meliagrance came with his
sword all on high, and Sir Launcelot showed him openly
his bare head and the bare left side; and when he weened
to have smitten him upon the bare head, then lightly he
avoided the left leg and the left side, and put his right
hand and his sword to that stroke, and so put it on side
with great sleight; and then with great force Sir Launcelot
smote him on the helmet such a buffet that the stroke
carved the head in two parts. Then there was no more
to do, but he was drawn out of the field. And at the
great instance of the knights of the Table Round, the
king suffered him to be interred, and the mention made
upon him, who slew him, and for what cause he was slain;
and then the king and the queen made more of Sir
Launcelot du Lake, and more he was cherished, than ever
he was aforehand.

CHAPTER X

How Sir Urre came into Arthur's court for to be healed of
his wounds, and how King Arthur would begin to handle
him

THEN as the French book maketh mention, there was a
good knight in the land of Hungary, his name was Sir
Urre, and he was an adventurous knight, and in all places
where he might hear of any deeds of worship there would
he be. So it happened in Spain there was an earl's son,
his name was Alphegus, and at a great tournament in
Spain this Sir Urre, knight of Hungary, and Sir Alphegus
of Spain encountered together for very envy; and so
either undertook other to the utterance. And by fortune
Sir Urre slew Sir Alphegus, the earl's son of Spain, but
this knight that was slain had given Sir Urre, or ever he
was slain, seven great wounds, three on the head, and four
on his body and upon his left hand. And this Sir
Alphegus had a mother, the which was a great sorceress;
and she, for the despite of her son's death, wrought by her
subtle crafts that Sir Urre should never be whole, but ever
his wounds should one time fester and another time bleed,
so that he should never be whole until the best knight of
the world had searched his wounds; and thus she made
her avaunt, wherethrough it was known that Sir Urre
should never be whole.

Then his mother let make an horse litter, and put him
therein under two palfreys; and then she took Sir Urre's
sister with him, a full fair damosel, whose name was
Felelolie; and then she took a page with him to keep
their horses, and so they led Sir Urre through many
countries. For as the French book saith, she led him so
seven year through all lands christened, and never she
could find no knight that might ease her son. So she
came into Scotland and into the lands of England, and by
fortune she came nigh the feast of Pentecost until King
Arthur's court, that at that time was holden at Carlisle.
And when she came there, then she made it openly to be
known how that she was come into that land for to heal
her son.

Then King Arthur let call that lady, and asked her
the cause why she brought that hurt knight into that
land. My most noble king, said that lady, wit you well
I brought him hither for to be healed of his wounds, that
of all this seven year he might not be whole. And then
she told the king where he was wounded, and of whom;
and how his mother had discovered in her pride how she
had wrought that by enchantment, so that he should never
be whole until the best knight of the world had searched
his wounds. And so I have passed through all the lands
christened to have him healed, except this land. And if I
fail to heal him here in this land, I will never take more
pain upon me, and that is pity, for he was a good knight,
and of great nobleness. What is his name? said Arthur
My good and gracious lord, she said, his name is Sir Urre
of the Mount. In good time, said the king, and sith ye
are come into this land, ye are right welcome; and wit
you well here shall your son be healed, an ever any
Christian man may heal him. And for to give all other
men of worship courage, I myself will assay to handle
your son, and so shall all the kings, dukes, and earls that
be here present with me at this time; thereto will
I command them, and well I wot they shall obey and do after
my commandment. And wit you well, said King Arthur
unto Urre's sister, I shall begin to handle him, and search
unto my power, not presuming upon me that I am so
worthy to heal your son by my deeds, but I will courage
other men of worship to do as I will do. And then the
king commanded all the kings, dukes, and earls, and all
noble knights of the Round Table that were there that
time present, to come into the meadow of Carlisle. And
so at that time there were but an hundred and ten of the
Round Table, for forty knights were that time away;
and so here we must begin at King Arthur, as is kindly to
begin at him that was the most man of worship that was
christened at that time.

CHAPTER XI

How King Arthur handled Sir Urre, and after him many
other knights of the Round Table

THEN King Arthur looked upon Sir Urre, and the king
thought he was a full likely man when he was whole;
and then King Arthur made him to be taken down off
the litter and laid him upon the earth, and there was laid
a cushion of gold that he should kneel upon. And then
noble Arthur said: Fair knight, me repenteth of thy hurt,
and for to courage all other noble knights I will pray thee
softly to suffer me to handle your wounds. Most noble
christened king, said Urre, do as ye list, for I am at the
mercy of God, and at your commandment. So then
Arthur softly handled him, and then some of his wounds
renewed upon bleeding. Then the King Clarence of
Northumberland searched, and it would not be. And
then Sir Barant le Apres that was called the King with
the Hundred Knights, he assayed and failed; and so did
King Uriens of the land of Gore; so did King Anguish
of Ireland; so did King Nentres of Garloth; so did King
Carados of Scotland; so did the Duke Galahad, the haut
prince; so did Constantine, that was Sir Carados' son of
Cornwall; so did Duke Chaleins of Clarance; so did the
Earl Ulbause; so did the Earl Lambaile; so did the Earl
Aristause.

Then came in Sir Gawaine with his three sons, Sir
Gingalin, Sir Florence, and Sir Lovel, these two were
begotten upon Sir Brandiles' sister; and all they failed.
Then came in Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Mordred,
and the good knight, Sir Gareth, that was of very knighthood
worth all the brethren. So came knights of Launcelot's
kin, but Sir Launcelot was not that time in the court,
for he was that time upon his adventures. Then Sir
Lionel, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Blamore
de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Gahalantine, Sir Galihodin,
Sir Menaduke, Sir Villiars the Valiant, Sir Hebes le
Renoumes. All these were of Sir Launcelot's kin, and all
they failed. Then came in Sir Sagramore le Desirous, Sir
Dodinas le Savage, Sir Dinadan, Sir Bruin le Noire, that
Sir Kay named La Cote Male Taile, and Sir Kay le
Seneschal, Sir Kay de Stranges, Sir Meliot de Logris, Sir
Petipase of Winchelsea, Sir Galleron of Galway, Sir Melion
of the Mountain, Sir Cardok, Sir Uwaine les Avoutres,
and Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy.

Then came in Sir Astamor, and Sir Gromere, Grummor's son,
Sir Crosselm, Sir Servause le Breuse, that was
called a passing strong knight, for as the book saith, the
chief Lady of the Lake feasted Sir Launcelot and Servause
le Breuse, and when she had feasted them both at sundry
times she prayed them to give her a boon. And they
granted it her. And then she prayed Sir Servause that he
would promise her never to do battle against Sir Launcelot
du Lake, and in the same wise she prayed Sir Launcelot
never to do battle against Sir Servause, and so either
promised her. For the French book saith, that Sir
Servause had never courage nor lust to do battle against
no man, but if it were against giants, and against dragons,
and wild beasts. So we pass unto them that at the king's
request made them all that were there at that high feast,
as of the knights of the Table Round, for to search Sir
Urre: to that intent the king did it, to wit which was
the noblest knight among them.

Then came Sir Aglovale, Sir Durnore, Sir Tor, that
was begotten upon Aries, the cowherd's wife, but he was
begotten afore Aries wedded her, and King Pellinore begat
them all, first Sir Tor, Sir Aglovale, Sir Durnore, Sir
Lamorak, the most noblest knight one that ever was in
Arthur's days as for a worldly knight, and Sir Percivale
that was peerless except Sir Galahad in holy deeds, but
they died in the quest of the Sangreal. Then came Sir
Griflet le Fise de Dieu, Sir Lucan the Butler, Sir Bedevere
his brother, Sir Brandiles, Sir Constantine, Sir Cador's son
of Cornwall, that was king after Arthur's days, and Sir
Clegis, Sir Sadok, Sir Dinas le Seneschal of Cornwall, Sir
Fergus, Sir Driant, Sir Lambegus, Sir Clarrus of Cleremont,
Sir Cloddrus, Sir Hectimere, Sir Edward of Carnarvon,
Sir Dinas, Sir Priamus, that was christened by Sir
Tristram the noble knight, and these three were brethren;
Sir Hellaine le Blank that was son to Sir Bors, he begat
him upon King Brandegoris' daughter, and Sir Brian de
Listinoise; Sir Gautere, Sir Reynold, Sir Gillemere, were
three brethren that Sir Launcelot won upon a bridge in
Sir Kay's arms. Sir Guyart le Petite, Sir Bellangere le
Beuse, that was son to the good knight, Sir Alisander le
Orphelin, that was slain by the treason of King Mark.
Also that traitor king slew the noble knight Sir Tristram,
as he sat harping afore his lady La Beale Isoud, with a
trenchant glaive, for whose death was much bewailing of
every knight that ever were in Arthur's days; there was
never none so bewailed as was Sir Tristram and Sir
Lamorak, for they were traitorously slain, Sir Tristram
by King Mark, and Sir Lamorak by Sir Gawaine and his
brethren. And this Sir Bellangere revenged the death of
his father Alisander, and Sir Tristram slew King Mark,
and La Beale Isoud died swooning upon the corse of Sir
Tristram, whereof was great pity. And all that were
with King Mark that were consenting to the death of Sir
Tristram were slain, as Sir Andred and many other.