THE SANGREAL, OR HOLY GRAAL
The Sangreal was the cup from which our Saviour drank at his last
supper. He was supposed to have given it to Joseph of Arimathea,
who carried it to Europe, together with the spear with which the
soldier pierced the Saviour's side. From generation to generation,
one of the descendants of Joseph of Arimathea had been devoted to
the guardianship of these precious relics; but on the sole
condition of leading a life of purity in thought, word, and deed.
For a long time the Sangreal was visible to all pilgrims, and its
presence conferred blessings upon the land in which it was
preserved. But at length one of those holy men to whom its
guardianship had descended so far forgot the obligation of his
sacred office as to look with unhallowed eye upon a young female
pilgrim whose robe was accidentally loosened as she knelt before
him. The sacred lance instantly punished his frailty,
spontaneously falling upon him, and inflicting a deep wound. The
marvellous wound could by no means be healed, and the guardian of
the Sangreal was ever after called "Le Roi Pescheur,"--The Sinner
King. The Sangreal withdrew its visible presence from the crowds
who came to worship, and an iron age succeeded to the happiness
which its presence had diffused among the tribes of Britain.
"But then the times
Grew to such evil that the Holy cup
Was caught away to heaven and disappear'd."
--The Holy Grail.
We have told in the history of Merlin how that great prophet and
enchanter sent a message to King Arthur by Sir Gawain, directing
him to undertake the recovery of the Sangreal, informing him at
the same time that the knight who should accomplish that sacred
quest was already born, and of a suitable age to enter upon it.
Sir Gawain delivered his message, and the king was anxiously
revolving in his mind how best to achieve the enterprise, when, at
the vigil of Pentecost, all the fellowship of the Round Table
being met together at Camelot, as they sat at meat, suddenly there
was heard a clap of thunder, and then a bright light burst forth,
and every knight, as he looked on his fellow, saw him, in seeming,
fairer than ever before. All the hall was filled with sweet odors,
and every knight had such meat and drink as he best loved. Then
there entered into the hall the Holy Graal, covered with white
samite, so that none could see it, and it passed through the hall
suddenly, and disappeared. During this time no one spoke a word,
but when they had recovered breath to speak King Arthur said,
"Certainly we ought greatly to thank the Lord for what he hath
showed us this day." Then Sir Gawain rose up, and made a vow that
for twelve months and a day he would seek the Sangreal, and not
return till he had seen it, if so he might speed. When they of the
Round Table heard Sir Gawain say so, they arose, the most part of
them, and vowed the same. When King Arthur heard this, he was
greatly displeased, for he knew well that they might not gainsay
their vows. "Alas!" said he to Sir Gawain, "you have nigh slain me
with the vow and promise that ye have made, for ye have bereft me
of the fairest fellowship that ever were seen together in any
realm of the world; for when they shall depart hence, I am sure
that all shall never meet more in this world."
SIR GALAHAD
At that time there entered the hall a good old man, and with him
he brought a young knight, and these words he said: "Peace be with
you, fair lords." Then the old man said unto King Arthur, "Sir, I
bring you here a young knight that is of kings' lineage, and of
the kindred of Joseph of Arimathea, being the son of Dame Elaine,
the daughter of King Pelles, king of the foreign country." Now the
name of the young knight was Sir Galahad, and he was the son of
Sir Launcelot du Lac; but he had dwelt with his mother, at the
court of King Pelles, his grandfather, till now he was old enough
to bear arms, and his mother had sent him in the charge of a holy
hermit to King Arthur's court. Then Sir Launcelot beheld his son,
and had great joy of him. And Sir Bohort told his fellows, "Upon
my life, this young knight shall come to great worship." The noise
was great in all the court, so that it came to the queen. And she
said, "I would fain see him, for he must needs be a noble knight,
for so is his father." And the queen and her ladies all said that
he resembled much unto his father; and he was seemly and demure as
a dove, with all manner of good features, that in the whole world
men might not find his match. And King Arthur said, "God make him
a good man, for beauty faileth him not, as any that liveth."
Then the hermit led the young knight to the Siege Perilous; and he
lifted up the cloth, and found there letters that said, "This is
the seat of Sir Galahad, the good knight;" and he made him sit in
that seat. And all the knights of the Round Table marvelled
greatly at Sir Galahad, seeing him sit securely in that seat, and
said, "This is he by whom the Sangreal shall be achieved, for
there never sat one before in that seat without being mischieved."
On the next day the king said, "Now, at this quest of the Sangreal
shall all ye of the Round Table depart, and never shall I see you
again altogether; therefore I will that ye all repair to the
meadow of Camelot, for to just and tourney yet once more before ye
depart." But all the meaning of the king was to see Sir Galahad
proved. So then were they all assembled in the meadow. Then Sir
Galahad, by request of the king and queen, put on his harness and
his helm, but shield would he take none for any prayer of the
king. And the queen was in a tower, with all her ladies, to behold
that tournament. Then Sir Galahad rode into the midst of the
meadow; and there he began to break spears marvellously, so that
all men had wonder of him, for he surmounted all knights that
encountered with him, except two, Sir Launcelot and Sir Perceval.
"So many knights, that all the people cried,
And almost burst the barriers in their heat,
Shouting 'Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval!'"
--Sir Galahad
Then the king, at the queen's request, made him to alight, and
presented him to the queen; and she said, "Never two men resembled
one another more than he and Sir Launcelot, and therefore it is no
marvel that he is like him in prowess."
Then the king and the queen went to the minster, and the knights
followed them. And after the service was done they put on their
helms and departed, and there was great sorrow. They rode through
the streets of Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and
poor; and the king turned away, and might not speak for weeping.
And so they departed, and every knight took the way that him best
liked.
Sir Galahad rode forth without shield, and rode four days, and
found no adventure. And on the fourth day he came to a white
abbey; and there he was received with great reverence, and led to
a chamber. He met there two knights, King Bagdemagus and Sir
Uwaine, and they made of him great solace. "Sirs," said Sir
Galahad, "what adventure brought you hither?" "Sir," said they,
"it is told us that within this place is a shield, which no man
may bear unless he be worthy; and if one unworthy should attempt
to bear it, it shall surely do him a mischief." Then King
Bagdemagus said, "I fear not to bear it, and that shall ye see to-
morrow."
So on the morrow they arose, and heard mass; then King Bagdemagus
asked where the adventurous shield was. Anon a monk led him behind
an altar, where the shield hung, as white as snow; but in the
midst there was a red cross. Then King Bagdemagus took the shield,
and bare it out of the minster; and he said to Sir Galahad, "If it
please you, abide here till ye know how I shall speed."
Then King Bagdemagus and his squire rode forth: and when they had
ridden a mile or two, they saw a goodly knight come towards them,
in white armor, horse and all; and he came as fast as his horse
might run, with his spear in the rest; and King Bagdemagus
directed his spear against him, and broke it upon the white
knight, but the other struck him so hard that he broke the mails,
and thrust him through the right shoulder, for the shield covered
him not, and so he bare him from his horse. Then the white knight
turned his horse and rode away.
Then the squire went to King Bagdemagus, and asked him whether he
were sore wounded or not. "I am sore wounded," said he, "and full
hardly shall I escape death." Then the squire set him on his
horse, and brought him to an abbey; and there he was taken down
softly, and unarmed, and laid in a bed, and his wound was looked
to, for he lay there long, and hardly escaped with his life. And
the squire brought the shield back to the abbey.
The next day Sir Galahad took the shield, and within a while he
came to the hermitage, where he met the white knight, and each
saluted the other courteously. "Sir," said Sir Galahad, "can you
tell me the marvel of the shield?" "Sir," said the white knight,
"that shield belonged of old to the gentle knight, Joseph of
Arimathea; and when he came to die he said, 'Never shall man bear
this shield about his neck but he shall repent it, unto the time
that Sir Galahad the good knight bear it, the last of my lineage,
the which shall do many marvellous deeds.'" And then the white
knight vanished away.
SIR GAWAIN
After Sir Gawain departed, he rode many days, both toward and
forward, and at last he came to the abbey where Sir Galahad took
the white shield. And they told Sir Gawain of the marvellous
adventure that Sir Galahad had done. "Truly," said Sir Gawain, "I
am not happy that I took not the way that he went, for, if I may
meet with him, I will not part from him lightly, that I may
partake with him all the marvellous adventures which he shall
achieve." "Sir," said one of the monks, "he will not be of your
fellowship." "Why?" said Sir Gawain. "Sir," said he, "because ye
be sinful, and he is blissful." Then said the monk, "Sir Gawain,
thou must do penance for thy sins." "Sir, what penance shall I
do?" "Such as I will show," said the good man. "Nay," said Sir
Gawain, "I will do no penance, for we knights adventurous often
suffer great woe and pain." "Well," said the good man; and he held
his peace. And Sir Gawain departed.
Now it happened, not long after this, that Sir Gawain and Sir
Hector rode together, and they came to a castle where was a great
tournament. And Sir Gawain and Sir Hector joined themselves to the
party that seemed the weaker, and they drove before them the other
party. Then suddenly came into the lists a knight, bearing a white
shield with a red cross, and by adventure he came by Sir Gawain,
and he smote him so hard that he clave his helm and wounded his
head, so that Sir Gawain fell to the earth. When Sir Hector saw
that, he knew that the knight with the white shield was Sir
Galahad, and he thought it no wisdom to abide him, and also for
natural love, that he was his uncle. Then Sir Galahad retired
privily, so that none knew where he had gone. And Sir Hector
raised up Sir Gawain, and said, "Sir, me seemeth your quest is
done." "It is done," said Sir Gawain; "I shall seek no further."
Then Gawain was borne into the castle, and unarmed, and laid in a
rich bed, and a leech found to search his wound. And Sir Gawain
and Sir Hector abode together, for Sir Hector would not away till
Sir Gawain were whole.