Britain had lost King Arthur their lord, and were in sore danger of
losing all their land, therefore had they sent Sir Gariët to seek Sir
Gawain, and Sir Lancelot, since they twain were without peer, the most
valiant knights of the court. Sir Perceval might well be accounted the
third, but 'twas not for long that he practised knighthood; nevertheless
he brought many into sore stress, even as ye have heard.
When Sir Gariët had come before the hermitage, Sir Gawain came forth
with haste from the chapel on to the road, as one who was blithe beyond
measure when he beheld his brother; and he said, "God give ye good day,
that ye come, brother, and that I see ye! Never was I so joyful of
aught, since that I was born."
Sir Gariët alighted on the turf when he saw his brother; and as he came
nigh to him he took him in his arms saying: "Alas, brother, woe is me!
How hath this so chanced? Methinks ye have suffered harm, and been in
such sore strife that 'tis a marvel an ye be healed, and escape with
life, ye seem to me in such evil case." Thus spake Sir Gariët. And Sir
Gawain said, "I have never a limb but feeleth the smart of wounds, yet
am I whole of heart, and shall heal myself right well. But let that tale
be, and make known to me the errand upon which ye ride that ye be now
come hither. Fain would I know the truth."
Quoth Sir Gariët, "That will I tell ye."
Thus went the twain into the chapel, where they found that good man,
the hermit, and Morien, who was black of face and of limb. Then was Sir
Gariët somewhat in fear, when he saw him so great of limb and of such
countenance. This marked well his brother, Sir Gawain, and he gave him
to wit of the knight, and of his name, who he was, and whence he came,
ere he asked him aught; for he saw well that he somewhat misdoubted him
when he saw the good knight Morien of such countenance.
So sat they down together, and each bade the other welcome, and made
much joy of their meeting. But Sir Gawain was more desirous than I may
tell ye of knowing wherefore Sir Gariët, his brother, came thither, till
he brought him to that point that he spake the truth concerning what had
chanced to King Arthur, and told how the worst had befallen him. "King
Arthur is taken captive! As he fared on a day to hunt in a great forest,
as he was wont to do, there came upon him the greatest company of armed
men that I may tell ye of, in these few words, who were all the King of
the Saxons' men. They were in such force that they took King Arthur, who
foresaw naught of this, and had but few folk with him, as he but went
a-hunting. Thereof are his people sore troubled, and the queen above
all--she is well nigh distraught in that the king is captive. She knows
not whither the folk who took him in the forest have led him, or what
may since have befallen him. Thereof is many a heart sorrowful. The
forest standeth by the sea shore, whence came the folk who took the king
by force, and led him whither they would. They who rode with King Arthur
were unarmed, and defenceless; their strength was not worth a groat.
Thereto have we another woe; the Irish King hath come into the land, and
made war; one town hath he already won, and layeth siege to another. He
hath made his boast that he will win all Arthur's land, hill and vale,
castle and town (this is his intent), and bring all under his hand ere
he quit our land. Of this is the queen sore afraid, and they who be with
her, they look not to escape. Had ye, brother, been in the land, and
Perceval, and Lancelot, then had we never come to such a pass, for there
liveth no man so bold that he durst withstand ye three in any venture
that might chance. Now hath my lady the queen taken counsel, and sent
messengers far and near into every land to seek ye and Lancelot in this
her sore need. And I be one of these messengers, and have ridden as
swiftly as my steed might bear me from Arthur's Court hitherward, and
ever have I sought tidings of ye, till at length men told me, and I knew
that ye twain had come over to this cross, to this parting of the ways.
And beyond the border did men tell me that would I ride hither I must
fare for long upon the road ere I found a soul, man or woman, who lived,
and was of the faith of Christendom. Against this did I prepare myself,
and brought with me food, meat and bread, lest I had need thereof, and
cool clear wine in two flasks that hang here by my saddle, that I might
lay my hand on them when I had need thereto."
Then laughed Sir Gawain the bold when he heard him speak of food, and
said that he had come thither in a good hour since they had no victuals,
much or little, nor drink there within, nor knew they where they might
find any had he brought none with him. But God had thought upon them
betimes, and Mary, His Blessed Mother.
Then quoth Sir Gariët his brother, "Let us eat and drink, and begin our
meal, as we have need to do--but where is Sir Lancelot, that I see
him not here? Sir Gawain, brother, tell me, for fain would I know the
truth?"
And Sir Gawain spake, "He rode hence a while ago to seek Sir Perceval."
Sir Gariët answered and said, "That ye vex yourselves thus to seek him,
'tis labour lost, for tidings have come to court that Perceval hath
become hermit, and doeth penance for his sins. He hath learnt the truth;
did he seek till Doomsday that which he went forth to seek, the spear
and the grail, he would find them not; that cometh altogether from his
sin against his mother whereas he left her in the forest, and would
no more remain with women--then did she die for sorrow. That sin hath
hindered him, did he otherwise come upon them, of winning the spear and
the grail. He must be pure and clean from all stain, from all sin (so is
it now declared for truth) who would have the spear at his will, and the
grail. For sorrow at this hath Perceval betaken himself to a hermitage,
thereof have tidings come to court, even as he willed that it should be
made known. And concerning his brother Sir Agloval, of him did they tell
that he lay sick, with his uncle, sorely wounded; but the messenger did
us to wit that he was like to be healed, that do I tell ye, Sir Gawain.
Now let us eat, and go on our way to the queen with honour, that doth my
lady require of ye and of Sir Lancelot, upon your faith to her. But I am
sore vexed that he hath thus escaped me!"
When Morien, the son of Sir Agloval, had heard and understood this tale,
he asked forthwith if any there within could give him true tidings
and make known to him the road to the hermitage whither his uncle had
betaken himself, and where his father lay wounded; since he would fain
know thereof.
Their host quoth straightway, "He that had a boat at his will and a
favouring wind might be there ere even." He said that he knew the
hermit; "And 'twixt water and land 'tis a good fifteen mile thither,
that do I know for a truth, for oft-times have I heard men speak thereof
since I came hither. Now hearken to what I tell ye," (thus he spake to
Morien) "over the arm of the sea, there where ye cross, neither more
nor less, on the further shore is there a forest, to all seeming the
greatest men may wot of, and the wildest--'tis long withal and wide. But
as ye come thither, to one side, at the entering in of the forest, they
who would seek it may find the hermitage within but a short distance,
even as it were the mountance of a mile. Of this be ye sure, with never
a doubt."
"So help me God," quoth Morien, "an it fall out according to my will
there shall I be ere even. And may I but see my father, an good luck
befall me, I turn not from that goal, e'en if I find the man who gave me
life, but ere I depart he shall keep the vow that he sware to my mother
when he aforetime parted from her, and left her sorrowing sore, even
that he would wed her, and make her his wife. Rather would I, ere even,
be flayed with a sharp knife than refrain from this. Were he twofold my
father he might well be in fear of death, should he fail to keep his
oath, and ride with me to the Moorish land." He began to make ready as
one who would straightway ride thence.
Then spake Sir Gariët, "An God will, it shall fall out better than ye
say, 'twixt ye and your father; we will eat and drink, and I rede ye, an
ye be wise, ye shall bethink ye well ere ye do aught save good to your
father. I conjure ye by the faith that ye owe to our Lady, and by the
honour of knighthood, that ye do my bidding, and let your thoughts be
of good, and not of evil, and hearken Sir Gawain's rede, thereof shall
never harm befall ye--he shall give ye the best counsel."
And Morien answered that were he fain to do.
Herewith they left speaking of this matter, and Sir Gariët brought forth
a napkin, white and clean, and spread it before the knights, as is meet
for noble folk, and those worthy of honour. Then he brought forth more
than seven loaves, white as snow, that he had with him, and laid them
upon the napkin before the knights. He brought forth ham and venison
that he had bidden make ready, there, where he had lain over night,
since that men told him he drew near to the wilderness whither had gone
the knights whom he sought, and who rode before him. Since he was upon
their track he had risen long ere 'twas day, and now came thither with
the sun-rising. He brought forth also clear wine, two good bottles full.
He was not altogether dull in that he had so well bethought him, and
brought food with him lest peradventure he have need thereof. 'Twas
right welcome to them who now partook of it; and through these good
victuals forgat they all their tribulation, as they ate and drank. They
were above measure joyful, those three knights, at that time, and with
them the hermit, for they would in no wise forget him, but he must eat
and drink with them.
When the meal was ended then Morien thought to ride on his way. But the
good knight Sir Gariët said, "Sir Knight ye will do better to abide than
to depart in this haste, in short while shall ye have trouble an ye seek
your father. Follow ye our counsel; 'tis now high day, did ye come in
safety to the ships it would be o'er late ere ye came to the other
side."
Quoth Sir Gawain his brother, as one wise in counsel, "Knight I will
tell ye what ye shall do; from haste cometh seldom good that abideth to
honour. Therefore tarry over night with us, since ye may not achieve
your goal this day; and I will make ready my weapons as best I may; I
must needs be better healed ere I have strength to ride whither I would.
Tomorrow shall it fare better with me. Then will we ride, without delay,
so soon as it be daylight. If God will I shall be more at ease in limbs
and at heart, and I shall have less pain than I have as at this while. I
have no mind to abide here behind ye, nor to hinder ye and cause ye to
delay when ye would fain ride hence, as I know right well! Here have I
foes nigh at hand, who have wrought me harm, and were ready to do yet
more did they know me to be here, in this place."
Then did Morien after his counsel, and abode there throughout the night,
and told all the adventures that had befallen him. And Sir Gawain made
ready his harness and his weapons, and scoured and polished them, and
tested them where they were mishandled. But that which grieved him the
most was his sorrow for his good sword which he had thus lost, for it
was a sword of choice.
What boots it to make long my tale? The morrow as the day dawned, and
shed beauty over hill and vale, they rode forth together, and Sir Gawain
the Father of Adventure with them. They would not spare themselves. Then
said Sir Gawain he would fare in quest of Sir Lancelot who departed with
him from court when he left King Arthur, since he might not well, for
his honour, return without him. He wist not how it had gone with him;
and would fain learn how his venture had fallen out and return in short
space, would God prosper him, and bring Sir Lancelot with him to the aid
of the queen. On this was his mind set, nor would he do otherwise, for
any man's prayer.
With this was Sir Gariët but ill-pleased; he said Sir Gawain would do
better to return, and take the place of his uncle, and care for the land
and comfort the folk. But this he would not do, howsoe'er he prayed him,
but said he must first seek Sir Lancelot, and learn if harm had befallen
him. Sir Gariët gave him his sword, which was good and bright; then took
they leave, each of the other, for Sir Gawain would not return ere he
had spoken with Sir Lancelot, saying that the good fellowship betwixt
them twain should not be broken by his default; but that he would bring
him again to the court of King Arthur, and keep his covenant.
When they were thus made ready, armed and fittingly clad, they mounted
their steeds as they who would ride on their way. They took leave of the
good man, their host, and departed thence.
Sir Gawain had chosen his road, and Sir Gariët and Sir Morien bare him
company for a space, as it were the mountance of a mile. Each spake his
mind to the other. Sir Gawain said he would return with Sir Lancelot as
swiftly as he might, and put to shame the folk who had led his uncle
captive; and he quoth, "Brother, tell this to my lady the queen, and
bear her greeting in all good faith and loyalty. 'Tis not my will that
ye ride further, nor tarry longer with me, since 'twill profit ye
naught!"
Then Sir Gariët and Sir Morien turned their bridle. They commended Sir
Gawain to the care of God and all His saints, and so did he them. Each
saw the other's tears spring from their eyes and run down even to their
beards when they parted asunder. I may not tell ye how oft and how
warmly Sir Gawain thanked Morien, that he had saved his life that day on
the field, where he had of a surety been slain had not God and that good
knight come to his aid. Now will I here cease speaking of Sir Gawain and
tell of Sir Morien. The adventure doeth us to wit that when Sir Morien
and Sir Gariët had parted from Sir Gawain, they rode once more to the
crossways, for they had made a compact that they should not part before
that they had found his father, Sir Agloval. Thus they rode both
together, for Morien sware an oath that, would Sir Gariët ride with him,
he would e'en pray his uncle and his father to come to the aid of the
queen, King Arthur's wife, and help her to win back her land. On this
covenant and on this behest would Sir Gariët ride with him and bear
Morien company.
As they came to the ships, Morien told him how it had fared with him
before when he thought to make the crossing, and he said that he found
no living soul among all that he saw there who would let him into his
ship, since he seemed to them so huge, and black withal.
"They counted themselves for lost, deeming that I were the devil, and
were sore afeard, and put out to sea. Now see, Sir Gariët, what counsel
ye may find, and how we may so contrive that we cross the water; doubt
ye not that an they once behold me and know me they will straightway set
sail again and put to sea. I fear me we may not cross over!"
Quoth Sir Gariët: "By what ye tell me, methinks 'twere better that I
ride on ahead, and hire me a ship. Ye shall follow on softly; and let me
once come therein, and have my steed aboard and the boatman in my power,
he shall not depart hence ere that ye be come thither. May my soul be
lost if he do!" Further spake the knight Sir Gariët: "Even should he be
beside himself when he first see ye, I shall not let him free ere he
have taken us to the further shore, or I shall have from him such
forfeit 'twere better for him to be sunken and drowned in the depths of
the sea!"
Then answered Morien: "Ye have found the best counsel that may be
devised. Now ride ye without delay, and hire us a boat, good and strong,
that may well carry us over the water. I shall abide behind, and wait
till ye have done your part. I will do even as ye shall counsel!"
Thus they agreed together, and Sir Gariët rode alone till he came to
the ships, where he found a boat that pleased him well. He offered the
boatman money enow to take him to the further side with no delay. He
gave him the gold in his hand, and he made him ready and hoisted sail
and rigging. Of this did he swiftly repent. Even as the steed was aboard
and all was ready for the crossing came Morien riding, blacker than any
son of man whom Christian eyes had e'er beheld. And the boatman was fain
to flee when he beheld him and he drew nigh to him, for he had seen him
aforetime. He deemed that he should surely die of fear, and scarce might
move a limb.
Then Sir Gariët asked him: "Sir boatman, what aileth thee? By Heaven, it
availeth thee naught; thou shall ferry us over swiftly. Now make us no
ado, or this shall be thy last day. By the Lord who made us, of what art
thou afraid? This is not the devil! Hell hath he never seen! 'Tis but my
comrade; let him in. I counsel thee straitly!"
Then must the boatman obey, though he liked it but ill. He saw that
better might not be: he might neither leap out of the boat nor otherwise
escape. So soon as he had in his boat Morien, of whom he was sore
afraid, in that he was so huge, and had shipped his steed, which was in
seeming over-strong, he pushed the boat from shore and put out to sea.
He feared him greatly, even as one who deems that he is lost.
When Morien had sat himself down he did off his helmet of steel. Then
the boatman deemed that he was a dead man, and prayed for mercy,
beholding his face, for he though he might scarce be a Christian. Sir
Gariët asked of him tidings, if there had passed that way two knights,
of whom the one bestrode a red horse and wore red armour, and the other
bare the badge of King Arthur. If he might tell him aught of them he
besought him to do so; an he knew where they yet abode he would give him
great thanks.
The boatman said: "'Tis not long since that they were even in my boat;
the one knight ware red armour and had with him a red steed, and the
other was wounded and bare King Arthur's badge; and I know full well,"
quoth the boatman, "the knights who bear that badge, by that same token
shall ye yourself be one of King Arthur's knights. They would both cross
over, and I ferried them to the further side. 'Twas to them an unknown
land; that did I hear well from their speech. Methought that they were
ill at ease, I wist not wherefore. I saw that the one wept so that the
tears fell thick adown his face. And when I had brought them to the
other side the knight, who was glad thereof, asked me if I knew where
stood a hermitage wherein a hermit dwelt. That did I shew him--no more
and no less."
Thus fared they, having heard the tale and speaking of the twain, till
that they touched the sand. Then did the boatman shew them the way they
should ride thence to where the hermitage stood, and declared to them
the road. Thus left they the boatman, who was much rejoiced to be safely
quit of them. But the knights went on their way till they knew that they
drew near to the hermitage, and came even unto it. Then they dismounted,
and made fast their steeds before the door, and cried with a loud voice
to those within: "Let us in! Open of your goodwill!" A lad came to the
door and asked them what they desired, and if aught ailed them that they
required aid.
Then Sir Gariët spake, and said that an it were pleasing to them, they
would fain have speech with the hermit and with Sir Agloval. And the
messenger went his way to the twain, and told them how two knights stood
without the gate. "The one is a goodly man to look upon and well armed,
and so, forsooth, is the other, but his armour and his limbs, so far as
I might see, were blacker than soot or pitch. I wot not if ye know aught
of them or of their errand. They said that they would fain speak with
ye, and they prayed me straitly, the twain of them, that I should come
hither and tell ye this."
Sir Agloval, who deemed this passing strange, went, as best he might,
to the gate, and his uncle the hermit followed him with no delay. Sir
Agloval looked through the wicket, and was ware of Sir Gariët, Sir
Gawain's brother, and bethought him how that he belonged to King
Arthur's court and was worthy of great honour, for though he were not so
well known throughout the land as was his brother Sir Gawain, yet was he
a strong knight and bold, and a doer of valiant deeds.
When they beheld each other they gave fair and courteous greeting, the
one to the other, and Sir Gariët spake. "May He who can do all things
shew favour and honour to ye Sir Knight, and to all who be with ye there
within!"
Sir Agloval looked upon Morien, and marked right well the fashion of
him, and marvelled within himself what manner of knight he might well be
who bare such guise. And Morien stood before him and asked him if he yet
remembered how, seeking for Sir Lancelot, he came into the land of the
Moors, and how he there loved a maiden, and plighted to her his troth,
and how she granted to him her favours ere he departed from her upon his
quest. He asked him if he yet thought thereupon, how, when he departed
from the land he pledged his word to her that he would return, so soon
as might be, to the country of the Moors, for her profit and for her
honour? Did he yet think upon this?
Sir Agloval made answer: "Sir Knight, I make no denial, yet have I
but seldom been at rest. I rode in quest of Sir Lancelot awhile; and
thereafter had I but little respite, since I brought my brother to
court, where he was held in high honour, and so soon as he was made
knight must I ride forth with him upon a journey which he would in no
wise delay; for he was fain to avenge the harm done to our father many a
year agone--that must ye understand. My brother knew well that our foes
had taken to themselves the heritage that should have been ours, when
they drave my father forth. This would he avenge, and spare not, and
herein had we much strife ere we might regain it; but now have we done
so much that we have won back our heritage and slain all those who had
possessed themselves of our land. That so many years have fled since I
sware to the maiden that I would return to her, that came of necessity.
Now have I failed to keep mine oath, and needs must that I bethink me
well, and seek counsel in the matter. I know not, and have no true
tidings, whether that lady of whom ye speak be living or dead; naught do
I know thereof!"
Quoth Morien: "But I shall tell ye more thereof! She to whom ye gave
your troth yet liveth and is my mother, and ye, Sir Knight, are my
father! If ye will come with me, at her prayer and mine, then will ye do
well and courteously. Ye begat me upon her who should be your wife, had
ye kept your oath. Now bethink ye well, and say if ye will come or no.
When ye parted from my mother she bare me though she knew it not. Thus,
Sir Knight, did the matter fall out."
Sir Agloval made answer: "By Heaven Sir Knight, I believe ye, every
whit. That which the lady claimeth from me, in that I have thus betrayed
her and foresworn mine oath, that will I make good, by the help of God.
I will yet win her grace. Come ye to me here within to mine uncle and my
brother, they shall counsel us well when they hear our tale--so shall we
be more at ease."
With that he undid the wicket. 'Twould have done any heart good, who
understood their speech, to see how Sir Agloval and Morien embraced and
kissed each other. Any heart would have been the gladder who had
seen and heard their gestures and their words, and in what love and
friendship they betook themselves within, where they were right well
received. Sir Agloval forthwith made known to his uncle and to Sir
Perceval the true tale of his doings, and how that his son had come
hither.
When Sir Perceval heard this, never did knight receive so glad a welcome
as that which he gave unto his nephew; so likewise did the hermit. 'Twas
bliss and fair speech there betwixt those knights, and in their honour
did they bring forth such food and drink as was there within, and
did all they might for their comfort. That even was there naught but
gladness; each made great joy of the other, and erst as the knights were
weary did they get them to sleep, as men are wont to do, till the day
brake, and the sun shone forth.
The knights lay longer abed than did the hermit, who had said and sung
his orisons and his Mass ere day had dawned, or that the knights had
arisen and done on their garments. Then spake Morien to his father, even
as ye shall hear, and said he would ride thence, and was fain to know,
without contention, if he would come with him to his mother, and do that
which he promised when he departed from her, for the sake of God and of
his own honour, and for their profit. He told how they had been deprived
of their rightful heritage which had fallen to his mother from her
father. "'Twas altogether denied her by the law of the land; yet 'twas
the shame rather than the loss that grieved her, in that men called her
son fatherless, and she might bring no proof of her word, nor shew them
to their face the man who had begotten me!"
Then said Sir Agloval, his father: "I will tell ye out and out how the
thing stands with me, and tell ye all my counsel. Believe me well, I
will not lie to ye in one word." And Morien hearkened and answered that
he believed him fully.