THE SANGREAL (Continued)
SIR LAUNCELOT
Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and
held no path but as wild adventure lee him.
"My golden spurs now bring to me,
And bring to me my richest mail,
For to-morrow I go over land and sea
In search of the Holy, Holy Grail
Shall never a bed for me be spread,
Nor shall a pillow be under my head,
Till I begin my vow to keep.
Here on the rushes will I sleep,
And perchance there may come a vision true
Ere day create the world anew"
--Lowell's Holy Grail.
And at last he came to a stone cross. Then Sir Launcelot looked
round him, and saw an old chapel. So he tied his horse to a tree,
and put off his shield, and hung it upon a tree; and then he went
into the chapel, and looked through a place where the wall was
broken. And within he saw a fair altar, full richly arrayed with
cloth of silk; and there stood a fair candlestick, which bare six
great candles, and the candlestick was of silver. When Sir
Launcelot saw this sight, he had a great wish to enter the chapel,
but he could find no place where he might enter. Then was he
passing heavy and dismayed. And he returned and came again to his
horse, and took off his saddle and his bridle, and let him
pasture; and unlaced his helm, and ungirded his sword, and laid
him down to sleep upon his shield before the cross.
And as he lay, half waking and half sleeping, he saw come by him
two palfreys, both fair and white, which bare a litter, on which
lay a sick knight. And when he was nigh the cross, he there abode
still. And Sir Launcelot heard him say, "O sweet Lord, when shall
this sorrow leave me, and when shall the holy vessel come by me
whereby I shall be healed?" And thus a great while complained the
knight, and Sir Launcelot heard it. Then Sir Launcelot saw the
candlestick, with the lighted tapers, come before the cross, but
he could see nobody that brought it. Also there came a salver of
silver and the holy vessel of the Sangreal; and therewithal the
sick knight sat him upright, and held up both his hands, and said,
"Fair, sweet Lord, which is here within the holy vessel, take heed
to me, that I may be whole of this great malady." And therewith,
upon his hands and upon his knees, he went so nigh that he touched
the holy vessel and kissed it. And anon he was whole. Then the
holy vessel went into the chapel again, with the candlestick and
the light, so that Sir Launcelot wist not what became of it.
Then the sick knight rose up and kissed the cross; and anon his
squire brought him his arms and asked his lord how he did. "I
thank God right heartily," said he, "for, through the holy vessel,
I am healed. But I have great marvel of this sleeping knight, who
hath had neither grace nor power to awake during the time that the
holy vessel hath been here present." "I dare it right well say,"
said the squire, "that this same knight is stained with some
manner of deadly sin, whereof he was never confessed." So they
departed.
Then anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set himself upright, and
bethought him of what he had seen and whether it were dreams or
not. And he was passing heavy, and wist not what to do. And he
said: "My sin and my wretchedness hath brought me into great
dishonor. For when I sought worldly adventures and worldly
desires, I ever achieved them, and had the better in every place,
and never was I discomfited in any quarrel, were it right or
wrong. And now I take upon me the adventure of holy things, I see
and understand that mine old sin hindereth me, so that I had no
power to stir nor to speak when the holy blood appeared before
me." So thus he sorrowed till it was day, and heard the fowls of
the air sing. Then was he somewhat comforted.
Then he departed from the cross into the forest. And there he
found a hermitage, and a hermit therein, who was going to mass. So
when mass was done Sir Launcelot called the hermit to him, and
prayed him for charity to hear his confession. "With a good will,"
said the good man. And then he told that good man all his life,
and how he had loved a queen unmeasurably many years. "And all my
great deeds of arms that I have done I did 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 better beloved; and little or
naught I thanked God for it. I pray you counsel me."
"I will counsel you," said the hermit, "if ye will insure me that
ye will never come in that queen's fellowship as much as ye may
forbear." And then Sir Launcelot promised the hermit, by his
faith, that he would no more come in her company. "Look that your
heart and your mouth accord," said the good man, "and I shall
insure you that ye shall have more worship than ever ye had."
Then the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot such penance as he might
do, and he assailed Sir Launcelot and made him abide with him all
that day. And Sir Launcelot repented him greatly.
SIR PERCEVAL
Sir Perceval departed and rode till the hour of noon; and he met
in a valley about twenty men of arms. And when they saw Sir
Perceval, they asked him whence he was; and he answered: "Of the
court of King Arthur." Then they cried all at once, "Slay him."
But Sir Perceval smote the first to the earth, and his horse upon
him. 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 cross, come there by adventure. And when he
saw all the knights upon one, he cried out, "Save me that knight's
life." Then he rode 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, that it was marvel to see; and at every stroke he
smote down one, or put him to rebuke, so that they would fight no
more, but fled to a thick forest, and Sir Galahad followed them.
And when Sir Perceval saw him chase them so, he made great sorrow
that his horse was slain. And he wist well it was Sir Galahad.
Then he cried aloud, "Ah, fair knight, abide, and suffer me to do
thanks unto thee; for right well have ye done for me." But Sir
Galahad rode so fast that at last he passed out of his sight. When
Sir Perceval saw that he would not turn, he said, "Now am I a very
wretch, and most unhappy above all other knights." So in his
sorrow he abode all that day till it was night; and then he was
faint, and laid him down and slept till midnight; and then he
awaked and saw before him a woman, who said unto him, "Sir
Perceval, what dost thou here?" He answered, "I do neither good,
nor great ill." "If thou wilt promise me," said she, "that thou
wilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I will lend thee my own
horse, which shall bear thee whither thou wilt." Sir Perceval was
glad of her proffer, and insured her to fulfil all her desire.
"Then abide me here, and I will go fetch you a horse." And so she
soon came again, and brought a horse with her that was inky black.
When Perceval beheld that horse he marvelled, it was so great and
so well apparelled. And he leapt upon him and took no heed of
himself. And he thrust him with his spurs, and within an hour and
less he bare him four days' journey thence, until he came to a
rough water, which roared, and his horse would have borne him into
it. And when Sir Perceval came nigh the brim and saw the water so
boisterous he doubted to overpass it. And then he made the sign of
the cross on his forehead. When the fiend felt him so charged, he
shook off Sir Perceval, and went into the water crying and
roaring; and it seemed unto him that the water burned. Then Sir
Perceval perceived it was a fiend that 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 it was day. Then he saw that he was in a wild
place, that was closed with the sea nigh all about. And Sir
Perceval looked forth over the sea, and saw a ship come sailing
towards him; and it came and stood still under the rock. And when
Sir Perceval saw this, he hied him thither, and found the ship
covered with silk; and therein was a lady of great beauty, and
clothed so richly that none might be better.
And when she saw Sir Perceval, she saluted him, and Sir Perceval
returned her salutation. Then he asked her of her country and her
lineage. And she said, "I am a gentlewoman that am disinherited,
and was once the richest woman of the world." "Damsel," said Sir
Perceval, "who hath disinherited you? for I have great pity of
you." "Sir," said she, "my enemy is a great and powerful lord, and
aforetime he made much of me, so that of his favor and of my
beauty I had a little pride more than I ought to have had. Also I
said a word that pleased him not. So he drove me from his company
and from mine heritage. Therefore I know no good knight nor good
man, but I get him on my side if I may. And for that I know that
thou art a good knight, I beseech thee to help me."
Then Sir Perceval promised her all the help that he might, and she
thanked him.
And at that time the weather was hot, and she called to her a
gentlewoman, and bade her bring forth a pavilion. And she did so,
and pitched 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. Then he
awoke, and asked her if she had any meat, and she said yea, and so
there was set upon the table all manner of meats that he could
think on. Also he drank there the strongest wine that ever he
drank, and therewith he was a little chafed more than he ought to
be. With that he beheld the lady, and he thought she was the
fairest creature that ever he saw. And then Sir Perceval proffered
her love, and prayed her that she would be his. Then she refused
him in a manner, 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 Perceval, wit you well I
shall not give ye my love, unless you swear from henceforth you
will be my true servant, and do no thing but that I shall command
you. Will you insure me this, as ye be a true knight?" "Yea," said
he, "fair lady, by the faith of my body." And as he said this, 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
thereon. Then he made the sign of the cross on his forehead, and
therewith the pavilion shrivelled up, and changed into a smoke and
a black cloud. And the damsel cried aloud, and hasted into the
ship, and so she went with the wind roaring and yelling that it
seemed all the water burned after her. Then Sir Perceval made
great sorrow, and called himself a wretch, saying, "How nigh was I
lost!" Then he took his arms, and departed thence.