great road across the moor.'
'Ah, my dear son, what was that?' she asked.
'They were three honourable knights,' he said. 'And, mother, I will be
a knight also.'
With a great shriek his mother swooned away, and the women turned him
from the room and said he had slain his mother.
Much grieved was Perceval that he had hurt his mother, and so, taking
his store of pointed sticks, he went off into the forest, and strayed
there a long time, torn between his love for his mother, and the
strange restlessness which the sight of the three warriors had caused
in him.
As he wandered, troubled, his quick ear caught the clang of metal,
though he knew not what it was. And swiftly he ran towards the sound a
long way, until he came into a clearing, and found two knights on
horseback doing mighty battle. One bore a red shield and the other a
green one.
He looked eagerly at this strange sight, and the blood sang in his
veins. And then he saw that the green knight was of slighter frame than
the other, and was weakening before the strokes of the red knight.
Full of anger at the sight, Perceval launched one of his hard-wood
javelins at the red knight. With such force did it go, and so true was
the aim, that it pierced the coif of the knight, and entered between
the neck and the head, and the red knight swayed and then clattered to
the ground, dead.
The green knight came and thanked Perceval for thus saving his life.
'Are knights then so easy to slay?' asked the lad. 'Methought that none
might pierce through the hauberk of a knight, and I sorrow that I have
slain him, not thinking what I did.'
'He was a full evil knight,' said the other, 'and deserved death richly
for his many villainies and oppressions of weak orphans and friendless
widows.'
The knight took the body of the dead knight to be buried in a chapel,
and told Perceval he could have the horse. But the lad would not have
it, though he longed greatly to possess it, and the green knight took
it with him.
Then Perceval went home, sad, yet wild with wonder at what he had done.
He found his mother well again, but very sorrowful. And for fear of
giving her pain, he did not tell her of the knight he had slain.
She called him to her, and said:
'Dear son of mine, it seems I may not keep thy fate from thee. The
blood of thy warlike generations before thee may not be quenched,
whatever fond and foolish plans I made to keep thee from knowledge of
battle and weapons. Dear son, dost thou desire to ride forth into the
world?'
'Yes, mother, of a truth,' said Perceval. 'I shall not be happy more
until I go.'
'Go forward, then,' she said weeping, 'and God be with thee, my dear
son. And as I have no man who is strong of his hands, thou must go
alone, yet will I give thee gold for thy proper garnishing and lodging.
But make all the haste ye may to the court of King Arthur at
Caerleon-upon-Usk, for there are the best and the boldest and the most
worshipful of knights. And the king will give thee knighthood. And
wherever thou seest a church, go kneel and repeat thy prayers therein;
and if thou hearest an outcry, go quickly and defend the weak, the poor
and the unprotected. And be ever tender towards women, my son, and
remember that thy mother loves thee and prays for thy stay in health
and life. And come thou to see me within a little while.'
And he thanked her, saying he would do naught that should shame her,
but would remember all the nobleness of her teaching; also, that he
would return to see her within a little while.
Perceval went to the stable and took a bony, piebald horse, which
seemed the strongest, and he pressed a pallet of straw into the
semblance of a saddle, and with pieces of leather and wood he imitated
the trappings he had seen on the horses of the knights.
Then, after taking leave of his mother, he rode forth, sad at first for
leaving her in sorrow and tears, but afterwards glad that now he was
going into the world to become a knight. And for armour he had a rough
jerkin, old and moth-eaten, and for arms he had a handful of
sharp-pointed sticks of hard wood.
He journeyed southwards two days and two nights along the great
straight road, which went through the deep dark forests, over desert
places and over the high mountains. And all that time he ate nothing
but wild berries, for he had not thought to bring food with him.
While he was yet but a little way from the court of King Arthur, a
stranger knight, tall and big, in black armour, had ridden into the
hall where sat Gwenevere the queen, with a few of the younger knights
and her women. The page of the chamber was serving the queen with wine
in a golden goblet richly wrought, which Lancelot had taken from a
knight whom he had lately slain.
The stranger knight had alighted before the chair of Gwenevere, and all
had seen that full of rage and pride was his look. And he caught sight
of the goblet in the hand of Gwenevere, and he snatched it from her,
spilling the wine over her dress and dashing it even into her face.
'Now am I well lighted here,' he said, 'for this is the very goblet
which thy robber knight Sir Lancelot reaved from my brother, Sir
Wilder. And if any of you knights here desire to wrest this goblet from
me, or to avenge the insult I have done your queen, let him come to the
meadow beside the ford, and I will slay him, ay, if it be that traitor
Sir Lancelot himself.'
All the young knights hung their heads as he mounted his horse and
insolently rode out of the hall; for it seemed to them that no one
would have done so daring an outrage unless, like Sir Garlon whom Balin
slew, he fought with evil magic, so that the strength and prowess of
the mightiest knight would be put to naught.
Then Perceval entered the hall, and at sight of him upon his rough
piebald horse, with its uncouth trappings, and the old and mouldy
jerkin upon the youth, the knights and others broke forth in excessive
laughter, as much at the sight as to cover their discomfiture and fear
of the knight who had just gone.
But Perceval took no note of their laughter, but rode up the hall to
where Sir Kay the seneschal stood, wrathful at the outrage on the queen
which he had not dared to avenge instantly. And Perceval looked about
and saw a knight more richly dressed than the others, and, turning to
Kay, he said:
'Tell me, tall man, is that King Arthur yonder?'
'What wouldst thou with Arthur, knave?' asked Kay angrily.
'My mother told me to seek King Arthur,' responded Perceval,' and he
will give me the honour of knighthood.'
'By my faith, thou farmer's churl,' said Kay, 'thou art richly equipped
indeed with horse and arms to have that honour.'
Thereupon the others shouted with laughter, and commenced to throw
sticks at Perceval, or the bones left by the dogs upon the floor.
Then a dwarf pressed forward between the laughing crowd and saluted
Perceval. And the lad rejoiced to recognise him. It was Tod, who had
been his friend among the trolls of the mountains, and with Tod was his
wife. They had come to the court of Arthur, and had craved harbourage
there, and the king of his kindness had granted it them. But by reason
of the prophecy which the trolls knew of concerning the great renown
which Perceval was to gain, they had been dumb of speech since they had
last seen the young man.
And now at sight of him their tongues were loosed, and they ran and
kissed his feet, and cried together:
'The welcome of Heaven be unto thee, goodly Perceval, son of Earl
Evroc! Chief of warriors art thou, and stainless flower of knighthood!'
'Truly,' said Kay wrathfully, 'thou art an ill-conditioned pair, to
remain a year mute at King Arthur's court, and now before the face of
goodly knights to acclaim this churl with the mouldy coat, chief of
warriors and flower of knighthood!'
In his rage he beat Tod the dwarf such a blow, that the poor troll fell
senseless to the ground; and the troll-wife he kicked, so that she was
dashed among the dogs, who bit her.
'Tall man,' said Perceval, and men marvelled to see the high look on
his face and the cold scorn in his eyes, 'I will have vengeance on thee
for the insult and ill-treatment thou hast done these two poor dwarfs.
But tell me now which of these knights is Arthur?'
'Away with thee,' shouted Kay, enraged. 'If thou wouldst see Arthur, go
to the knight with the goblet who waits for thee at the ford, and take
the goblet from him, and slay him. Then when thou comest back clad in
his armour, we will speak further with thee.'
'I will do so, angry man,' said Perceval, and amid the shouts of
laughter and the sneers of the crowd he turned his horse's head and
rode out of the hall.
Going to the meadow beside the ford, he saw a knight riding up and
down, proud of his strength and valour.
'Tell me, fellow,' said the knight, who bore on his shield the device
of a black tower on a red field, 'didst thou see any one coming after
me from the court yonder?'
'The tall man that was there,' said Perceval, 'bade me to come to thee,
and I am to overthrow thee and to take from thee the goblet, and as for
thy horse and thy arms I am to have them myself.'
'Silence, prating fool!' shouted the knight, 'go back to the court and
tell Arthur to come himself, or to send a champion to fight me, or I
will not wait, and great will be his shame.'
'By my faith,' said Perceval, 'whether thou art willing or unwilling,
it is I that will have thy horse and arms and the goblet.'
And he prepared to throw his javelin-sticks.
In a proud rage the knight ran at him with uplifted lance, and struck
him a violent blow with the shaft between the neck and the shoulder.
'Haha! lad,' said Perceval, and laughed, 'that was as shrewd a blow as
any the trolls gave me when they taught me their staff play; but now I
will play with thee in my own way.'
Thereupon he threw one of the pointed sticks at the knight, with such
force and with such sureness of aim that it went in between the bars of
his vizor and pierced the eye, and entered into the brain of the
knight. Whereupon he fell from his horse lifeless.
And it befell that a little while after Perceval had left the court,
Sir Owen came in, and was told of the shameful wrong put upon the queen
by the unknown knight, and how Sir Kay had sent a mad boy after the
knight to slay him.
'Now, by my troth,' said Owen to Kay, 'thou wert a fool to send that
foolish lad after the strong knight. For either he will be overthrown,
and the knight will think he is truly the champion sent on behalf of
the queen, whom the knight so evilly treated, and so an eternal
disgrace will light on Arthur and all of us; or, if he is slain, the
disgrace will be the same, and the mad young man's life will be thrown
away.'
Thereupon Sir Owen made all haste, and rode swiftly to the meadow,
armed; but when he reached the place, he found a youth in a mouldy old
jerkin pulling a knight in rich armour up and down the grass.
'By'r Lady's name!' cried Sir Owen, 'what do you there, tall youth?'
'This iron coat,' said Perceval, stopping as he spoke, 'will never come
off him.'
Owen alighted marvelling, and went to the knight and found that he was
dead, and saw the manner of his death, and marvelled the more. He
unloosed the knight's armour and gave it to Perceval.
'Here, good soul,' he said, 'are horse and armour for thee. And well
hast thou merited them, since thou unarmed hast slain so powerful a
knight as this.'
He helped Perceval put on his armour, and when he was fully dressed
Owen marvelled to see how nobly he bore himself.
'Now come you with me,' he said, 'and we will go to King Arthur, and
you shall have the honour of knighthood from the good king himself.'
'Nay, that will I not,' said Perceval, and mounted the dead knight's
horse. 'But take thou this goblet to the queen, and tell the king that
wherever I be, I will be his man, to slay all oppressors, to succour
the weak and the wronged, and to aid him in whatever knightly
enterprise he may desire my aid. But I will not enter his court until I
have encountered the tall man there who sent me hither, to revenge upon
him the wrong he did to my friends, Tod the dwarf and his wife.'
And with this Perceval said farewell and rode off. Sir Owen went back
to the court, and told Arthur and the queen all these things. Men
marvelled who the strange young man could be, and many sought Tod and
his wife to question them, but nowhere could they be found.
Greater still was their marvelling when, as the weeks passed, knights
came and yielded themselves to King Arthur, saying that Perceval had
overcome them in knightly combat, and had given them their lives on
condition that they went to King Arthur's court and yielded themselves
up to him and his mercy. The king and all his court reproved Kay for
his churlish manner, and for his having driven so splendid a youth from
the court.
And Perceval rode ever forward. He came one day towards the gloaming to
a lonely wood in the fenlands, where the wind shivered like the breath
of ghosts among the leaves, and there was not a track or trace of man
or beast, and no birds piped. And soon, as the wind shrilled, and the
rain began to beat down like thin grey spears, he saw a vast castle
rise before him, and when he made his way towards the gate, he found
the way so overgrown with weeds that hardly could he push his horse
between them. And on the very threshold the grass grew thick and high,
as if the door had not been opened for a hundred winters.
He battered on the door with the butt of his lance; and long he waited,
while the cold rain drove and the wind snarled.
After a little while a voice came from above the gateway, and glancing
up he saw a damsel looking through an opening in the battlements.
'Choose thou, chieftain,' said she, 'whether I shall open unto thee
without announcing thee, or whether I shall tell her that rules here
that thou wishest to enter.'
'Say that I am here,' said Perceval. 'And if she will not house me for
the night, then will I go forward.'
Soon the maiden came back and opened the door for him, and his horse
she led into the stable, where she fed it; and Perceval she brought
into the hall. When he came into the light and looked at the girl, he
thought he had never seen another of so fair an aspect.
She had an old garment of satin upon her, which had once been rich, but
was now frayed and tattered; and fairer was her skin than the bloom of
the rose, and her hair and eyebrows were like the sloe for blackness,
and on her cheeks was the redness of poppies. Her eyes were like deep
pools in a dark wood. And he thought that, though she was very
beautiful, there was great arrogance in her look and cruelty in her
lips.
When Perceval went towards the dais of the hall he saw a tall and
stately lady in the high seat, old of years and reverend of aspect,
though sorrowful. Several handmaids sat beside her, sad of face and
tattered of dress. All welcomed him right kindly. Then they sat at
meat, and gave the young man the best cheer that they had.
When it was time to go to rest, the lady said:
'It were well for you, chieftain, that you sleep not in this castle.'
'Wherefore,' said Perceval, 'seeing that the storm beats wildly without
and there is room here for many?'
'For this reason,' said the lady, 'that I would not that so handsome
and kindly a youth as you seem should suffer the doom which must light
upon this my castle at dawn.'
'Tell me,' said Perceval, 'what is this castle, and what is the doom
you speak of?'
'This castle is named the Castle of Weeds,' replied the lady, 'and the
lands about it for many miles belonged to my husband, the Earl Mador.
And he was a bold and very valiant man; and he slew Maelond, the eldest
son of Domna, the great witch of Glaive, and ever thereafter things
were not well with him. For she and her eight evil sisters laid a curse
upon him. And that in spite of this, that he slew Maelond in fair
fight, for all that he was a false and powerful wizard. And Domna came
to my husband, when he was worn with a strange sickness, and as he lay
on his deathbed. And she said she should revenge herself upon his
daughter and mine, this maiden here, when she shall be full twice nine
years of age. And she will be of that age ere dawn to-morrow morn, and
at the hour will the fierce Domna and her fearful sisters come, and
with tortures slay all that are herein, and take my dear daughter
Angharad, and use her cruelly.'
The maiden who had opened to Perceval was that daughter, and she
laughed harshly as her mother spoke.
'Fear not for me, mother,' she cried. 'They will deck me in rich robes,
and I shall not pine for fair raiment, as I have pined these ten years
with thee.'
The lady looked sadly upon her as she heard her words.
'I fear not, my daughter, that they will take thy life,' she said, 'but
I dread this--that they will destroy thy soul!'
And Angharad laughed and said:
'What matter, so it be that I live richly while I live!'
'Nay, nay,' said Perceval, and in his voice was a great scorn, 'it is
evil to speak thus, and it belies your beauty, fair maiden. Rather a
life of poverty than one of shamefulness and dishonour. Thus is it with
all good knights and noble dames, and thus was it with our dear Lord.'
Then turning to the lady, he said:
'Lady, I think these evil witches will not hurt thee. For the little
help that I may give to thee, I will stay this night with thee.'
After he had prayed at the altar in the ruined chapel of the castle,
they led him to a bed in the hall, where he slept.
And just before the break of day there came a dreadful outcry, with
groans and shrieks and terrible screams and moanings, as if all the
evil that could be done was being done upon poor wretches out in the
dark.
Perceval leapt from his couch, and with naught upon him but his vest
and doublet, he went with his sword in hand to the gate, and there he
saw two poor serving-men struggling with a hag dressed all in armour.
Behind her came eight others. And their eyes, from between the bars of
their helms, shone with a horrible red fire, and from each point of
their armour sparks flashed, and the swords in their grisly hands
gleamed with a blue flame, so fierce and so terrible that it scorched
the eyes to look upon them.
But Perceval dashed upon the foremost witch, and with his sword beat
her with so great a stroke that she fell to the ground, and the helm on
her head was flattened to the likeness of a dish.
When she fell, the light of her eyes and her sword went out, and the
armour all seemed to wither away, and she was nothing but an old ugly
woman in rags. And she cried out:
'Thy mercy, good Perceval, son of Evroc, and the mercy of Heaven!'
'How knowest thou, hag,' said he, 'that I am Perceval?'
'By the destiny spun by the powers of the Underworld,' she said, 'and
the foreknowledge that I should suffer harm from thee. And I knew not
that thou wert here, or I and my sisters would have avoided thee. But
it is fated,' she went on, 'that thou come with us to learn all that
may be learned of the use of arms. For there are none in Britain to
compare with us for the knowledge of warfare.'
Then Perceval remembered what he had heard the trolls--the people of
the Underworld--say, though he had not understood their meaning. 'The
stainless knight,' they said, 'shall gain from evil greater strength,
and with it he may confound all evil.'
'If it be thus fated,' he said, 'I will go with thee. But first thou
shalt swear that no evil shall happen to the lady of this castle nor to
her daughter, nor to any that belong to them.'
'It shall be so,' said the witch, 'if, when the time comes, thou art
strong enough to overcome my power. But if thou failest, Angharad is
mine to do with as I will.'
Then Perceval took leave of the lady of the Castle of Weeds, and of
Angharad. And the lady thanked him with tears for saving their lives,
but the girl was cold and scornful and said no word of thanks. Then
Perceval went with the witches to their Castle of Glaive.
He stayed with them for a year and a day, learning such knowledge of
arms, and gaining such strength, that it was marvel to see the feats
which he performed. And while he lived with them they strove to bend
him to their wills, for they saw how great a knight he would become in
prowess and in knightly deeds. They tempted him every hour and every
day, telling him what earthly power, what riches and what great
dominions would be his, if he would but swear fealty to the chief
witch, Domna, and fight for her against King Arthur and his proud
knights.
Perceval prayed daily for strength to withstand the poison of their
tongues, and evermore he held himself humble and gentle, and thought
much of his widowed mother in her lonely home in the northern wastes,
and of the promise he had made her. Sometimes he thought of Angharad,
how beautiful she was, and how sad it was that she had so cold a heart,
and was so cruel in her words.
Anon the witch Domna came to him, and said that he had now learned all
that she could teach him, and he must go and prove himself against
greater powers than he had ever yet known. If he prevailed not in that
battle, the ladies of the Castle of Weeds would become the prey of the
witches, and greater power of evil would they have in the world than
ever before. Then she gave him a horse and a full suit of black armour.
So Perceval took the horse, and armed himself and rode forth. And anon
he came to a hermit's cell beside a ruined chapel, and he alighted and
went into the chapel, and stripped himself, and laid all his armour,
his lance, and his sword, before the high altar.
Prayerfully he gave his arms to the service of God, and devoted them
one by one to do only knightly and pure deeds, to rescue the oppressed
and the weak, to put down the proud, and to cherish the humble.
And as he ended praying, the armour stirred of itself, and though it
had been black before, now did the darkness fade from it, and it all
became a pure white. While he marvelled, a faint light glowed over
hauberk, helm, shield, sword and lance, and there was an exceeding
sweet savour wafted through the place. And ghostily, as in a silver
mist, he saw above the altar the likeness of a spear, and beside it a
dish or salver. And at the wondrous sight his breath stayed on his
lips. Then slowly the vision faded from his sight.
He arrayed himself in his armour that was now of a dazzling white, and
he rode forth and thought to go towards Camelot, where was the court of
King Arthur. But he felt that some power drew him aside through the
desolate ways of a hoar forest, where all the trees were ancient and
big, and all bearded with long moss.
In a little while he saw a vast castle reared upon a rock in the midst
of the forest. He rode up to it, and marvelled that it was all so
quiet. Then he beat upon the door with the butt of his lance, and the
door opened, and he entered into the wide dark hall. On the pallets
under the wall he saw men lying as if dead. And in the high seat at the
head of the hall sat a king, old and white, but richly clothed, and he
seemed dead like all the rest. All were clad in garments of an ancient
kind, as if they had lived and died a thousand years agone, yet had not
rotted into dust. On the floor, about the wide heap of ashes where the
fire had burned, the hounds still lay as if asleep, and on the posts
the hawks sat stiff upon their perches.
Much did Perceval marvel at this strange sight, but most of all he
marvelled to see where a shaft of light from a narrow window gleamed
across the hall full upon a shield hung on the fire-pillar beside the
high seat in which the king sat like one dead.
Perceval caused his horse to pick its way through the hall, and he
approached the shield. And he saw that it was of shining white, but
whiter than the whiteness of his own, and in the centre thereof was a
heart. As he sat looking thereat, he marvelled to see that the heart
seemed to stir as if it were alive, and began to throb and move as if
it beat. Then the whiteness of the shield began to dazzle like to a
light that mortal eyes could not bear.
He lifted his hand and took the shield by its strap from the peg on
which it hung, and as he did so, a great sigh arose from within the
hall, as if at one time many sleepers awoke. And looking round, he saw
how all the men that had seemed dead were now on their knees, with bent
heads and folded hands as if in prayer.
The king in the high seat stirred and sat upright, and looked at
Perceval with a most sweet smile.
'The blessing of God is upon thee, young White Knight,' said he, 'and
now is my watch and ward all ended, and with these my faithful
companions may I go.'
'Tell me, sir,' said Perceval, 'what means this?'