whither, he was sorry. He called the light-hearted Sir Gawain and
said to him:
"Go forth, take this diamond and seek the stranger knight. Do
not cease from your search till you have left the diamond in his
hand."
Then Arthur went to the queen. She had been ill and had not
attended the tournament. When the king told her all that had
happened, she cried:
"A stranger knight! My lord, my lord! That was our dear Sir
Lancelot. He was fighting in disguise."
"Alas! he is hurt," said the king. "Perhaps he is dying. He said
that he would not fight. He should have told me that he meant to
fight in disguise. The truth, my queen, is always best."
"Yes, my good lord, I know it," she said. "If I had but let our
Lancelot tell the truth, perhaps he would not have been wounded.
You would have called on his kinsmen to cease."
For many days the king and Guinevere waited in deep anxiety for
news of Sir Lancelot. Meantime, Sir Gawain rode forth and sought
for the great knight in vain. At last he came to the castle of
Astolat, where he was welcomed by the lord and Sir Torre and the
fair Elaine. He told them the result of the tournament, and how
the stranger knight had won. They showed him Sir Lancelot's
shield.
"Ah!" said Elaine, when he had told them the name of the unknown
knight, "I knew that he must be great."
Sir Gawain guessed by the expression of her beautiful face that
she loved Sir Lancelot. So he said:
"Fair maiden, when he returns here for his shield, give him this
diamond, which is the prize he won. Perhaps he will prize it the
more because you put it into his hand."
Then Sir Gawain bade them farewell and rode off, lightly singing.
When he told Arthur what he had done, the king said:
"You should have done as I bade you, Gawain. Sir Lancelot
deceived me about his disguise, and you have disobeyed me. The
kingdom will surely fail if the king and his rules are not
honored. Obedience is the courtesy due to kings."
Meanwhile the fair Elaine went to her father and said:
"Dear father, let me go and seek the wounded Sir Lancelot and my
brother."
"Nay," said the lord, "it is not a fitting thing for a young
maiden like you to seek a wounded knight. He is not your lover.
It cannot be."
"I would give him his diamond," she said, "and since he is so
sorely wounded, I would take care of him. It is not fitting, my
father, but I cannot live unless I know where he is and how he
does."
Then, because he loved his child very much and had never refused
any request she made of him, the old lord let her go in care of
Sir Torre. The two rode for a long time, until at last, near
Camelot, they met Sir Lavaine. Elaine ran up to him and cried:
"Lavaine, take me to Sir Lancelot."
Sir Lavaine was much astonished that Elaine knew the name of the
stranger knight. He was glad to see her, because he thought she
could help his friend. Sir Lancelot seemed glad to see her, too,
and the beautiful maiden cared for him so tenderly that the old
hermit said he never could have recovered without her nursing.
When he was well enough, they all rode to the castle of Astolat.
There Sir Lancelot remained for a few days; then he took his
shield and prepared to return to Camelot. Before he went he asked
Elaine if he could not do something for her in return for her
care of him.
She grew very pale and then she said:
"I am going to say something which I should not. I love you. Take
me with you to Camelot."
Sir Lancelot said very gently:
"My poor little maiden, if I had meant to take a wife, I should
have wedded earlier. All the court knows that I love only the
king and the queen. You do not really love me. Some day you will
marry a young knight, and then I shall give you many castles and
much land as a dowry."
"I will have nothing of all that," said Elaine.
She turned away and climbed up to the tower, while her father
said to Sir Lancelot:
"I pray you, be discourteous in some way so that she will cease
to love you. Such love is madness."
"It is not my habit to be discourteous," said Sir Lancelot.
"However, when she stands at the turret window to wave me
farewell, I will not look up at her."
Sir Lancelot rode sadly away, and did not look up at the window
where Elaine stood. She watched him till he disappeared, and then
she fell in a swoon. Day after day she pined away, and one
morning she said to her father:
"Dear father, I am going to die. When I am dead, take my bed and
cover it with rich draperies. Then dress me in my most beautiful
clothes; put a letter I have here in my hand, and lay me on the
bed. Set it on a barge, and let our dumb servant steer it down
the river to Camelot."
Her father wept, and promised to do all that she asked.
Sir Lancelot had gone to the Court, where he was received with
great rejoicing. For many days the knights and ladies held great
feasting in his honor, and the king and the queen would hardly
allow him to leave their presence. One day while the three stood
looking out of the palace window, they saw a black barge come
slowly down the river.
It stopped at the palace door, and the king, going down, saw on
it the beautiful maiden Elaine, pale in death. She was dressed in
white satin, and bore a lily in her left hand and a letter in her
right. The king ordered two of his knights, the good Sir Galahad
and Sir Perceval, to carry Elaine into his great hall. Then
Arthur read the letter, which said:
"Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake: I, Elaine, the maid
of Astolat, come to take my last farewell of you, for you left me
without a farewell. I loved you, and my love had no return, and
so I died."
The knights and ladies wept. Sir Lancelot said to Arthur:
"My king, I grieve for the death of this maiden, but as I did not
love her, I could not wed her."
The king answered:
"You are not to blame, Sir Lancelot. The world has in it much
that is sad as well as much that is joyous. There are happenings
for which no human being can be blamed. It would be a fitting
deed, however, if you had this maiden richly buried."
Sir Lancelot ordered a splendid funeral, such as should be given
to a queen. Over Elaine's grave was raised a beautiful tomb on
which was carved her figure, with the left hand holding a lily;
at her feet lay the shield of Sir Lancelot, and the sad story of
her death was written on the tomb in letters of gold and blue.
[Illustration: Two Crossed Swords and a Shield]
[Illustration] THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL
In Arthur's Court there were many virtuous knights and ladies,
but the best of all was a beautiful maiden, sister to Sir
Perceval. She was so good that the evil in the world oppressed
her, and she could be happy only when she was praying for all
people to be made better.
Once a good old man told her what was meant by the Holy Grail.
"Grail," he said, "is the word for the cup out of which our Lord
Jesus drank, the night that he held the last supper with his
disciples. Therefore, it is called holy. There is a tradition
which says that for a long time after the death of Christ the
Holy Grail remained on earth, and any one who was sick and
touched it was healed at once. But then people grew to be so
wicked that it disappeared from earth. It is said that if a
person in our day were only good enough, he could see the Holy
Grail."
"Really see it?" asked the maiden, eagerly, "or see it in a
vision?"
"I do not know," answered the good old man, "but either one would
be a great happiness. For a real sight of it, or a vision, would
show the person who saw it that he was sinless."
Then the beautiful maiden prayed more than ever. She became so
thin and pale that it seemed as if she were almost transparent,
and at last she lay dying. One morning she sent for her brother,
Sir Perceval, and for his friend, Sir Galahad.
Sir Perceval and Sir Galahad were the two best knights in
Arthur's Court. They were not so powerful as Sir Lancelot or Sir
Geraint or Sir Gareth, but they had purer souls than these. When
they came to the bedside of the maiden, she said:
"Oh, my brother and my friend, I have seen the Holy Grail. Last
night I was awakened by a sound like the music of a silver horn
across the hills. It was more beautiful music than any I have
ever heard. Then through my window shone a long cold beam of
silver light, and slowly across that beam came the Holy Grail. It
was red like a beautiful rose, and the light reflected from it
covered all the walls with a rosy color. And then it vanished.
Now I beg you to seek it; and go to the hall of Arthur and tell
all the other knights to take the quest. If they can but see the
Grail, it will be a sign that they are good, and that the world
is growing better."
As she spoke, Sir Galahad's face wore an expression so like her
own that Sir Perceval was amazed. But the maiden took from the
side of her bed a sword-belt, and gave it to Sir Galahad.
"Fair knight," she said, "I have made this golden belt of my
hair, and woven on it, in crimson and silver thread, the device
of the Holy Grail. Put on this belt, bind your sword to it, and
go forth; for you, too, shall see the Holy Grail."
Then Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval went away quietly, for they saw
that the beautiful maiden had not long to live. That night they
went to Arthur's hall. The king was absent with the queen, but
most of the knights of the Round Table were there, and to them
Sir Galahad and Sir Perceval told the vision that Sir Perceval's
sister had seen.
As they spoke, suddenly the torches in the hall were
extinguished; there was a loud sound like thunder and a sudden
cracking of the roof. Then a beam of light, seven times stronger
than day, streamed into the room. Across the beam stole the Holy
Grail. But it was covered by a luminous cloud, so that its shape
could not be seen. Slowly it vanished away.
There was silence in the hall for a long time; the knights were
awe-struck and could not speak. At last Sir Perceval rose in his
seat and said in a low tone:
"My sister saw the vision of the Holy Grail, but I, because I am
more sinful, have seen it covered with a cloud. Yet because I
wish to see it, I vow to spend twelve months and a day in search
of it. I will pray, and live as holy a life as I can, and
perhaps this vision will be mine."
Then good Sir Bors, the cousin of Sir Lancelot, made the same
vow, as did also Sir Galahad and Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain and
many others. After the vows had been taken, King Arthur entered.
When all had been explained to him, his face grew sorrowful.
"If I had been here," he said, "I should not have allowed you to
swear the vow. None of you really saw the Grail; you say it was
covered with a cloud."
Then Sir Galahad cried out:
"My king, I saw the Grail, all crimson like a ruby, and I heard a
voice which said, 'O Galahad, O Galahad, follow me!'"
"Ah, Galahad," said the king, tenderly, "you are fit for this
quest, this search, but the others are not. Sir Lancelot is our
strongest warrior, but he is not like Sir Galahad. Most of you,
my knights, are men with strength and will to right wrongs; that
is the work you are fitted for. You have fought in twelve great
battles with the heathen, but only one of you is fit for this
holiest of visions. Yet go, and fulfill your vow."
The faces of the knights were downcast. The king continued:
"While you are gone, I shall need your strength here at home, but
you will be following a wandering fire. Many of you will never
return."
All the company felt sad. The next day when the knights departed
upon their quest, the king could hardly speak for grief, and many
of the knights and ladies wept. Those who had sworn the vow went
together to the great gate of the city of Camelot, and there they
separated.
During the next twelvemonth many a poor laborer who had been
wronged came to Arthur's Court to find a knight who would fight
for him, and many a poor widow and maiden. But because so many of
the knights of the Round Table were absent there was little help
to be had, and Arthur's face grew sadder and sadder as time went
on.
At last, after the twelvemonth and the day had passed, those in
Camelot began to look for the return of the knights who had taken
the vow. Alas, though they waited all day long, only Sir Gawain,
Sir Bors, Sir Perceval, and Sir Lancelot returned. In the evening
the knights of the Round Table assembled in the great hall. When
each was seated, the king rose, and said to those who had been
upon the quest:
"My lords, I need only look at your faces to know that you have
fared ill. I dare not think of those of you who have not come
back. And now, Perceval, my knight who, next to Galahad, has the
purest soul, tell me what has happened to you."
Sir Perceval rose slowly from his chair and said:
"Dear my liege, when I left your court on the sad morning that we
all set forth, I did not feel the grief that many of the other
knights felt. I had been fighting so well, so many lances had
gone down before my stroke, that I was full of confidence in what
I could do.
"I rode happily, planning all the great victories I should win.
I was sure if I righted a great many wrongs, I should soon see
the Grail. But after many days I began to grow weary. I was
riding through rough forests, and the branches bruised me and my
horse; there seemed to be no great deeds to do. I could not even
slay wild beasts, and so be of use to the poor country people. My
bed was on the hard ground, and my food was wild berries.
"One day I came to a great castle, and here I decided to rest.
When I entered, I was warmly greeted and brought to the princess
of the castle. I found her to be one whom I had loved long ago in
her father's court. I was but a young squire and she was a great
princess, and so I had gone away without telling her how dear I
held her.
"She greeted me kindly, and after a time she began to love me.
Soon I wondered whether I was fit to see the Holy Grail. I
thought perhaps I was one of those who were pursuing a wandering
fire. And then the people of the castle begged me to marry their
princess, and be their lord and live a happy and easeful life.
"One night I awoke, and thought longingly of the Holy Grail.
Whether I were fit to see the vision or not, I had at least sworn
to seek it for a year and a day. And yet, I had not tried two
months! I rose hastily, dressed, and left the castle. Then for
many days I prayed and mourned. At last I sought a holy hermit,
and told him all I had done and thought since I had left Arthur's
Court.
"The good hermit, after a short silence, said: 'My son, you have
not true humility. You have been too proud of your strength, and
too sure in the beginning that you were fit for the vision. You
have always thought first of yourself and your own glory, and not
of the good you could do.'
"I went into the chapel of this hermit, and prayed to be relieved
of the sin of pride. As I prayed, Sir Galahad entered. He was
clad in silver armor, and his face looked like that of an angel.
"'Oh, my brother,' he said, 'have you not seen the Grail?' And
after I had answered, he said:
"'From the moment when I left the court of our king, the vision
has been with me. It is faint in the daytime, but at night it
shines blood red. I see it on the mountains, and in the lakes,
and on the marshes. It has made me so strong that everywhere I am
able to do good. I have broken down many evil customs. I have
fought with pagan hordes and been victor, all because of this
blessed vision. Perceval, I have not long to live. I am going to
the great city above, which is more beautiful than any earthly
city. Come out with me this night, and before you die you shall
see this vision.'
"Then I followed Sir Galahad out of the chapel. We climbed a hill
which was steep and rugged, Sir Galahad going first, and his
silver armor guiding me. When we came to the top, a storm broke
over us, and the lightning seemed to follow us as we descended
the hill on the other side. At the bottom of it there was a great
black swamp, leading to the sea. It was crossed by a huge bridge
built by some forgotten king. Here Sir Galahad left me and ran
over the bridge till he reached the sea. His armor shone like a
star, far away at the edge of the water. And then I saw him no
more.
[Illustration: _"And across it slowly moved the Holy Grail"_]
"I knelt on the black ground and wept, and wished that I were as
good as Sir Galahad, and could do deeds as he did, not to win
glory, but to help those who needed help. And as I wept, I was
aware of a great light over me. I looked up and saw a silver
beam, and across it slowly moved the Holy Grail. It was no longer
muffled in a cloud, but shone crimson as a ruby.
"I made my way back to the chapel and prayed all the rest of the
night. In the morning I found Sir Galahad's body by the sea. He
was beautiful as a saint, though he was worn and thin from long
self-sacrifice. I buried him and then turned my steps to Camelot.
"And now, my lord Arthur, I shall never fight again. I shall
become a monk and pass my life in prayer as my sister did. Among
my brother monks, there will be very many little deeds of
service I can do. Thus will I spend my life."
All the knights were very much moved and the king looked
affectionately at Sir Perceval, but he did not speak to him. He
turned to Sir Gawain and said:
"Sir Gawain, was this quest for you?"
Then Sir Gawain, always light-hearted and easily turned away from
one thing to another, said:
"Nay, my king, such a search is not for one like me. In a little
time I became tired. I talked to a holy man who told me that I
was not fit for such a vision. So I journeyed till I came to a
field with silk pavilions and very many knights and ladies. And
with them I lived happily for the year."
The good king looked displeased, but his face grew tender as he
turned to Sir Bors.
"Bors," he said, "good, faithful, and honest you have ever been.
Tell me what you have seen."
Sir Bors, who stood near Sir Lancelot, said:
"My lord Arthur, after I had started on the quest, I was told
that madness had fallen upon my kinsman, Sir Lancelot. This so
grieved me that I had but little heart to seek for the Holy
Grail. Yet I sought for it. I believed that if God meant me to
see the vision he would send it.
"I traveled till I came to a people who were heathen. They knew
much of magic, but nothing of God. I stayed with them, and tried
to teach them our faith, but they were angry because I would not
believe in their gods, and they put me into prison.
"I was there many months in darkness and cold. But I tried to be
patient, and prayed that my patience would count for something,
although I could not do any good deeds. I had at least been
faithful though I failed.
"One night a stone slipped from my prison wall, and I could see a
space of sky, with seven stars set across it. Then slowly across
the space glided the Holy Grail. My happiness was great, for I
had seen the vision.
"The next morning, a maiden who had been secretly converted to
our religion released me from prison, and I came hither."
Then the king spoke to Sir Lancelot.
"My Lancelot, the mightiest of us all, have you succeeded in this
quest?"
Then Sir Lancelot groaned.
"O, king!" he cried, "your mightiest, yes; and yet, far better it
would be if I were like Sir Galahad. A great sin is on my soul,
and it was to be rid of this sin that I undertook the quest of
the Holy Grail. A hermit told me that only by putting this sin
away should I ever see the vision. I strove so hard against it
that my old sickness came upon me. I became mad, and rode up and
down among waste places, fighting with small men who overthrew
me. The day has been when the very sound of my name would have
made them tremble.
"At last I came to the sea and saw a boat anchored near the
shore. I stepped into it, loosed the anchor, and floated away.
For seven days I sailed, and at last I came to an old castle. I
entered and heard a voice singing. I followed it up, up for a
thousand steps. At last I came to a door, which burst open before
me. Perhaps I dreamed, and yet I believe I saw the Holy Grail,
though it was veiled and guarded by great angels. I thought I saw
all this, and then I swooned away. When I came to myself, I was
alone in the room. It was many days before I made my way back to
Camelot."
For a long time there was silence in the hall, and then Sir
Gawain said:
"Sir king, I can fight, and I always shall fight for you. But I
do not believe in this vision. All the knights were mad, like Sir
Lancelot. They did not really have the vision; it was but fancy."
Then the king spoke gravely to Sir Gawain.
"Sir Gawain, you are indeed not fit for such a vision, but you
should not doubt that others have seen it. I was right, my
knights, when I said that most of you would follow a wandering
fire. How many of those who left me have not returned, and never
will!"
The knights looked at the empty chairs. The king went on:
"Sir Galahad was the only one who completely saw the vision. He
was indeed blessed, and fit for such a quest. You who were unfit
should have stayed with me to help govern this land."
The knights were silent and sad; then the king said:
"My dear knights whom I love, always remember this: whether you
seek for a vision, or do humble service as Sir Perceval will for
his fellow-monks, or fight to right wrongs as Sir Lancelot does,
whatever you do your aim must be to make yourself useful to the
world by the work for which you are best fitted."
The king rose from the Round Table and left the company, Sir
Lancelot following him. Then the other knights departed, one by
one, and the great hall was left empty, with its shields
glimmering in the moonlight.
[Illustration: The Knight with the Sword]
[Illustration] THE DEATH OF ARTHUR
King Arthur's Round Table had lasted many years, and the knights
had done much to help the people of the country; yet there were
traitors to the king among his own subjects. One of these
traitors made war in a distant part of the kingdom, and Arthur
went with most of his knights to punish him. His nephew, Sir
Modred, the brother of Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth, ruled in his
stead at Camelot.
Now Sir Modred was a wicked knight. He hated the king and the
queen, and Sir Lancelot. Since King Arthur was absent a long
time, Sir Modred had the opportunity of doing much harm. He let
evil go unpunished; he allowed bad customs to come into the
country; and at last he raised a rebellion against the good
king.
When Arthur returned to Camelot to quell this rebellion, he had
lost many of his faithful knights. Sir Hector was dead, and Sir
Ulfius and Sir Brastias; Sir Kay was dead, and Sir Bors, and Sir
Gawain. Sir Lancelot was far away. Sir Bedivere alone remained of
those who had been with Arthur since he had first ruled in Wales
and Britain.
The king and Sir Bedivere, with the help of such knights as still
were faithful, tried to put down those rebels. They drove the
traitors back until they came at length to Lyonnesse by the sea.
Here the last great battle took place.
The night before the battle, Sir Bedivere heard the king praying.
Then Arthur slept, and when he awakened he called to his friend:
"Sir Bedivere," he said, "I have had a dream. I thought that Sir
Gawain came to me and told me that to-morrow I shall die."
"My lord, it is but a dream," answered Sir Bedivere. "You are
great; you have done much good which will last forever, and you
will live many years yet to perform many gracious acts. The day
will soon dawn, and you will win the battle."
Arthur shook his head.
"This is not like my other battles. I have no heart for it. It is
hard to slay my own people, even if they are traitors."
Day came, but no sun. A cold white mist lay over land and sea. It
chilled the knights to the bone. And when the battle began, the
mist was so thick that no one could see with whom he was
fighting. Friends slew each other, not knowing whom they killed.
Some could not fight at all, for it seemed to them that those
moving on the battle-field were ghosts of warriors long since
slain. There was many a noble deed and many a base one done in
that mist.
The fighting went on with clashing of lances and shields
throughout the afternoon, and then the sounds grew fainter, till
there was silence. At last, towards sunset, a wind from the west
blew the mist away. Then Arthur, with Sir Bedivere by his side,
looked over the field of battle. He saw but one man standing;
all the rest were dead on the seashore. And the tide had risen,
and was swaying the helpless hands, and tumbling up and down the
hollow helmets and the broken spears that once had fought with
Rome. The king's face was white, and his voice was low as he said
to Sir Bedivere:
"There lie my slain, who have died for me. I am king only of the
dead."
"Nay, lord," said Sir Bedivere. "You are king everywhere still.
Now strike a kingly stroke against the one traitor who still
stands."