THE SANGREAL (_Continued_)
SIR BOHORT
WHEN Sir Bohort departed from Camelot he met with a religious man,
riding upon an ass; and Sir Bohort saluted him. “What are ye?” said the
good man. “Sir,” said Sir Bohort, “I am a knight that fain would be
counselled in the quest of the Sangreal.” So rode they both together
till they came to a hermitage; and there he prayed Sir Bohort to dwell
that night with him. So he alighted, and put away his armor, and prayed
him that he might be confessed. And they went both into the chapel, and
there he was clean confessed. And they ate bread and drank water
together. “Now,” said the good man, “I pray thee that thou eat none
other till thou sit at the table where the Sangreal shall be.” “Sir,”
said Sir Bohort, “but how know ye that I shall sit there?” “Yea,” said
the good man, “that I know well; but there shall be few of your fellows
with you.” Then said Sir Bohort, “I agree me thereto.” And the good man
when he had heard his confession found him in so pure a life and so
stable that he marvelled thereof.
On the morrow, as soon as the day appeared, Sir Bohort departed thence,
and rode into a forest unto the hour of midday. And there befell him a
marvellous adventure. For he met, at the parting of two ways, two
knights that led Sir Lionel, his brother, all naked, bound upon a strong
hackney, and his hands bound before his breast; and each of them held in
his hand thorns wherewith they went beating him, so that he was all
bloody before and behind; but he said never a word, but, as he was great
of heart, he suffered all that they did to him as though he had felt
none anguish. Sir Bohort prepared to rescue his brother. But he looked
on the other side of him, and saw a knight dragging along a fair
gentlewoman, who cried out, “Saint Mary! succor your maid!” And when she
saw Sir Bohort, she called to him, and said, “By the faith that ye owe
to knighthood, help me!” When Sir Bohort heard her say thus he had such
sorrow that he wist not what to do. “For if I let my brother be he must
be slain, and that would I not for all the earth; and if I help not the
maid I am shamed for ever.” Then lift he up his eyes and said, weeping,
“Fair Lord, whose liegeman I am, keep Sir Lionel, my brother, that none
of these knights slay him, and for pity of you, and our Lady’s sake, I
shall succor this maid.”
Then he cried out to the knight, “Sir knight, lay your hand off that
maid, or else ye be but dead.” Then the knight set down the maid, and
took his shield, and drew out his sword. And Sir Bohort smote him so
hard that it went through his shield and habergeon, on the left
shoulder, and he fell down to the earth. Then came Sir Bohort to the
maid, “Ye be delivered of this knight this time.” “Now,” said she, “I
pray you lead me there where this knight took me.” “I shall gladly do
it,” said Sir Bohort. So he took the horse of the wounded knight, and
set the gentlewoman upon it, and brought her there where she desired to
be. And there he found twelve knights seeking after her; and when she
told them how Sir Bohort had delivered her, they made great joy, and
besought him to come to her father, a great lord, and he should be right
welcomed. “Truly,” said Sir Bohort, “that may not be; for I have a great
adventure to do.” So he commended them to God and departed.
Then Sir Bohort rode after Sir Lionel, his brother, by the trace of
their horses. Thus he rode seeking, a great while. Then he overtook a
man clothed in a religious clothing, who said, “Sir Knight, what seek
ye?” “Sir,” said Sir Bohort, “I seek my brother, that I saw within a
little space beaten of two knights.” “Ah, Sir Bohort, trouble not
thyself to seek for him, for truly he is dead.” Then he showed him a
new-slain body, lying in a thick bush; and it seemed him that it was the
body of Sir Lionel. And then he made such sorrow that he fell to the
ground in a swoon, and lay there long. And when he came to himself
again, he said, “Fair brother, since the fellowship of you and me is
sundered, shall I never have joy again; and now He that I have taken for
my Master, He be my help!” And when he had said thus he took up the body
in his arms, and put it upon the horse. And then he said to the man,
“Canst thou tell me the way to some chapel, where I may bury this body?”
“Come on,” said the man, “here is one fast by.” And so they rode till
they saw a fair tower, and beside it a chapel. Then they alighted both,
and put the body into a tomb of marble.
Then Sir Bohort commended the good man unto God, and departed. And he
rode all that day, and harbored with an old lady. And on the morrow he
rode unto the castle in a valley, and there he met with a yeoman. “Tell
me,” said Sir Bohort, “knowest thou of any adventure?” “Sir,” said he,
“here shall be, under this castle, a great and marvellous tournament.”
Then Sir Bohort thought to be there, if he might meet with any of the
fellowship that were in quest of the Sangreal; so he turned to a
hermitage that was on the border of the forest. And when he was come
hither, he found there Sir Lionel his brother, who sat all armed at the
entry of the chapel door. And when Sir Bohort saw him, he had great joy,
and he alighted off his horse, and said, “Fair brother, when came ye
hither?” As soon as Sir Lionel saw him he said, “Ah, Sir Bohort, make ye
no false show, for, as for you, I might have been slain, for ye left me
in peril of death to go succor a gentlewoman; and for that misdeed I now
assure you but death, for ye have right well deserved it.” When Sir
Bohort perceived his brother’s wrath he kneeled down to the earth and
cried him mercy, holding up both his hands, and prayed him to forgive
him. “Nay,” said Sir Lionel, “thou shalt have but death for it, if I
have the upper hand; therefore leap upon thy horse and keep thyself, and
if thou do not I will run upon thee there as thou standest on foot, and
so the shame shall be mine, and the harm thine, but of that I reck not.”
When Sir Bohort saw that he must fight with his brother or else die, he
wist not what to do. Then his heart counselled him not so to do,
inasmuch as Sir Lionel was his elder brother, wherefore he ought to bear
him reverence. Yet kneeled he down before Sir Lionel’s horse’s feet, and
said, “Fair brother, have mercy upon me and slay me not.” But Sir Lionel
cared not, for the fiend had brought him in such a will that he should
slay him. When he saw that Sir Bohort would not rise to give him battle,
he rushed over him, so that he smote him with his horse’s feet to the
earth, and hurt him sore, that he swooned of distress. When Sir Lionel
saw this he alighted from his horse for to have smitten off his head;
and so he took him by the helm, and would have rent it from his head.
But it happened that Sir Colgrevance, a knight of the Round Table, came
at that time thither, as it was our Lord’s will; and then he beheld how
Sir Lionel would have slain his brother, and he knew Sir Bohort, whom he
loved right well.
Then leapt he down from his horse and took Sir Lionel by the shoulders,
and drew him strongly back from Sir Bohort, and said, “Sir Lionel, will
ye slay your brother?” “Why,” said Sir Lionel, “will ye stay me? If ye
interfere in this I will slay you, and him after.” Then he ran upon Sir
Bohort, and would have smitten him; but Sir Colgrevance ran between
them, and said, “If ye persist to do so any more, we two shall meddle
together.” Then Sir Lionel defied him, and gave him a great stroke
through the helm. Then he drew his sword, for he was a passing good
knight, and defended himself right manfully. So long endured the battle,
that Sir Bohort rose up all anguishly, and beheld Sir Colgrevance, the
good knight, fight with his brother for his quarrel. Then was he full
sorry and heavy, and thought that if Sir Colgrevance slew him that was
his brother he should never have joy, and if his brother slew Sir
Colgrevance the shame should ever be his.
Then would he have risen for to have parted them, but he had not so much
strength to stand on his feet; so he staid so long that Sir Colgrevance
had the worse; for Sir Lionel was of great chivalry and right hardy.
Then cried Sir Colgrevance, “Ah, Sir Bohort, why come ye not to bring me
out of peril of death, wherein I have put me to succor you?” With that,
Sir Lionel smote off his helm and bore him to the earth. And when he had
slain Sir Colgrevance he ran upon his brother as a fiendly man, and gave
him such a stroke that he made him stoop. And he that was full of
humility prayed him, “for God’s sake leave this battle, for if it
befell, fair brother, that I slew you, or ye me, we should be dead of
that sin.” “Pray ye not me for mercy,” said Sir Lionel. Then Sir Bohort,
all weeping, drew his sword, and said, “Now God have mercy upon me,
though I defend my life against my brother.” With that Sir Bohort lifted
up his sword, and would have smitten his brother. Then he heard a voice
that said, “Flee, Sir Bohort, and touch him not.” Right so alighted a
cloud between them, in the likeness of a fire and a marvellous flame, so
that they both fell to the earth, and lay there a great while in a
swoon. And when they came to themselves, Sir Bohort saw that his brother
had no harm; and he was right glad, for he dread sore that God had taken
vengeance upon him. Then Sir Lionel said to his brother, “Brother,
forgive me, for God’s sake, all that I have trespassed against you.” And
Sir Bohort answered, “God forgive it thee, and I do.”
With that Sir Bohort heard a voice say, “Sir Bohort, take thy way anon,
right to the sea, for Sir Perceval abideth thee there.” So Sir Bohort
departed, and rode the nearest way to the sea. And at last he came to an
abbey that was nigh the sea. That night he rested him there, and in his
sleep there came a voice unto him and bade him go to the sea-shore. He
started up, and made a sign of the cross on his forehead, and armed
himself, and made ready his horse and mounted him, and at a broken wall
he rode out, and came to the sea-shore. And there he found a ship,
covered all with white samite. And he entered into the ship; but it was
anon so dark that he might see no man, and he laid him down and slept
till it was day. Then he awaked, and saw in the middle of the ship a
knight all armed, save his helm. And then he knew it was Sir Perceval de
Galis, and each made of other right great joy. Then said Sir Perceval,
“We lack nothing now but the good knight Sir Galahad.”
SIR LAUNCELOT (_Resumed_)
It befell upon a night Sir Launcelot arrived before a castle, which was
rich and fair. And there was a postern that was opened toward the sea,
and was open without any keeping, save two lions kept the entry; and the
moon shined clear. Anon Sir Launcelot heard a voice that said,
“Launcelot, enter into the castle, where thou shalt see a great part of
thy desire.” So he went unto the gate, and saw the two lions; then he
set hands to his sword, and drew it. Then there came suddenly as it were
a stroke upon the arm, so sore that the sword fell out of his hand, and
he heard a voice that said, “O man of evil faith, wherefore believest
thou more in thy armor than in thy Maker?” Then said Sir Launcelot,
“Fair Lord, I thank thee of thy great mercy, that thou reprovest me of
my misdeed; now see I well that thou holdest me for thy servant.” Then
he made a cross on his forehead, and came to the lions; and they made
semblance to do him harm, but he passed them without hurt, and entered
into the castle, and he found no gate nor door but it was open. But at
the last he found a chamber whereof the door was shut; and he set his
hand thereto, to have opened it, but he might not. Then he listened, and
heard a voice which sung so sweetly that it seemed none earthly thing;
and the voice said, “Joy and honor be to the Father of heaven.” Then Sir
Launcelot kneeled down before the chamber, for well he wist that there
was the Sangreal in that chamber. Then said he, “Fair, sweet Lord, if
ever I did anything that pleased thee, for thy pity show me something of
that which I seek.” And with that he saw the chamber door open, and
there came out a great clearness, that the house was as bright as though
all the torches of the world had been there. So he came to the chamber
door, and would have entered; and anon a voice said unto him, “Stay, Sir
Launcelot, and enter not.” And he withdrew him back, and was right heavy
in his mind. Then looked he in the midst of the chamber, and saw a table
of silver, and the holy vessel, covered with red samite, and many angels
about it; whereof one held a candle of wax burning, and another held a
cross, and the ornaments of the altar.
“O, yet methought I saw the Holy Grail,
All pall’d in crimson samite, and around
Great angels, awful shapes, and wings and eyes.”
—_The Holy Grail._
Then for very wonder and thankfulness Sir Launcelot forgot himself and
he stepped forward and entered the chamber. And suddenly a breath that
seemed intermixed with fire smote him so sore in the visage that
therewith he fell to the ground, and had no power to rise. Then felt he
many hands about him, which took him up and bare him out of the chamber,
without any amending of his swoon, and left him there, seeming dead to
all the people. So on the morrow, when it was fair daylight, and they
within were arisen, they found Sir Launcelot lying before the chamber
door. And they looked upon him and felt his pulse, to know if there were
any life in him. And they found life in him, but he might neither stand
nor stir any member that he had. So they took him and bare him into a
chamber, and laid him upon a bed, far from all folk, and there he lay
many days. Then the one said he was alive, and the others said nay. But
said an old man, “He is as full of life as the mightiest of you all, and
therefore I counsel you that he be well kept till God bring him back
again.” And after twenty-four days he opened his eyes; and when he saw
folk he made great sorrow, and said, “Why have ye wakened me? for I was
better at ease than I am now.” “What have ye seen?” said they about him.
“I have seen,” said he, “great marvels that no tongue can tell, and more
than any heart can think.” Then they said, “Sir, the quest of the
Sangreal is achieved right now in you, and never shall ye see more of it
than ye have seen.” “I thank God,” said Sir Launcelot, “of his great
mercy, for that I have seen, for it sufficeth me.” Then he rose up and
clothed himself; and when he was so arrayed they marvelled all, for they
knew it was Sir Launcelot the good knight. And after four days he took
his leave of the lord of the castle, and of all the fellowship that were
there, and thanked them for their great labor and care of him. Then he
departed, and turned to Camelot, where he found King Arthur and Queen
Guenever; but many of the knights of the Round Table were slain and
destroyed, more than half. Then all the court was passing glad of Sir
Launcelot; and he told the king all his adventures that had befallen him
since he departed.
SIR GALAHAD
Now, when Sir Galahad had rescued Perceval from the twenty knights, he
rode into a vast forest, wherein he abode many days. Then he took his
way to the sea, and it befell him that he was benighted in a hermitage.
And the good man was glad when he saw he was a knight-errant. And when
they were at rest, there came a gentlewoman knocking at the door; and
the good man came to the door to wit what she would. Then she said, “I
would speak with the knight which is with you.” Then Galahad went to
her, and asked her what she would. “Sir Galahad,” said she, “I will that
ye arm you, and mount upon your horse, and follow me; for I will show
you the highest adventure that ever knight saw.” Then Galahad armed
himself and commended himself to God, and bade the damsel go before, and
he would follow where she led.
So she rode as fast as her palfrey might bear her, till she came to the
sea; and there they found the ship where Sir Bohort and Sir Perceval
were, who cried from the ship, “Sir Galahad, you are welcome; we have
waited you long.” And when he heard them, he asked the damsel who they
were. “Sir,” said she, “leave your horse here, and I shall leave mine,
and we will join ourselves to their company.” So they entered into the
ship, and the two knights received them both with great joy. For they
knew the damsel, that she was Sir Perceval’s sister. Then the wind arose
and drove them through the sea all that day and the next, till the ship
arrived between two rocks, passing great and marvellous; but there they
might not land, for there was a whirlpool; but there was another ship,
and upon it they might go without danger. “Go we thither,” said the
gentlewoman, “and there we shall see adventures, for such is our Lord’s
will.” Then Sir Galahad blessed him, and entered therein, and then next
the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bohort and Sir Perceval. And when they
came on board they found there the table of silver, and the Sangreal,
which was covered with red samite. And they made great reverence
thereto, and Sir Galahad prayed a long time to our Lord, that at what
time he should ask to pass out of this world he should do so; and a
voice said to him, “Galahad, thou shalt have thy request; and when thou
askest the death of they body, thou shalt have it, and then shalt thou
find the life of thy soul.”
And anon the wind drove them across the sea, till they came to the city
of Sarras. Then took they out of the ship the table of silver, and Sir
Perceval and Sir Bohort took it before, and Sir Galahad came behind, and
right so they went to the city. And at the gate of the city they saw an
old man, a cripple.
“And Sir Launfal said, ‘I behold in thee
An image of Him who died on the tree.
Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns,
Thou also hast had the world’s buffets and scorns;
And to thy life were not denied
The wounds in thy hands and feet and side.
Mild Mary’s son, acknowledge me;
Behold, through Him I give to thee!’”
—_Lowell’s Holy Grail._
Then Galahad called him, and bade him help to bear this heavy thing.
“Truly,” said the old man, “it is ten years since I could not go but
with crutches.” “Care thou not,” said Sir Galahad, “but arise up, and
show thy good will.” Then the old man rose up, and assayed, and found
himself as whole as ever he was; and he ran to the table, and took one
part with Sir Galahad.
When they came to the city it chanced that the king was just dead, and
all the city was dismayed, and wist not who might be their king. Right
so, as they were in counsel, there came a voice among them, and bade
them choose the youngest knight of those three to be their king. So they
made Sir Galahad king, by all the assent of the city. And when he was
made king, he commanded to make a chest of gold and of precious stones
to hold the holy vessel. And every day the three companions would come
before it and make their prayers.
Now at the year’s end, and the same day of the year that Sir Galahad
received the crown, he got up early, and, with his fellows, came to
where the holy vessel was; and they saw one kneeling before it that had
about him a great fellowship of angels; and he called Sir Galahad, and
said, “Come, thou servant of the Lord, and thou shalt see what thou hast
much desired to see.” And Sir Galahad’s mortal flesh trembled right hard
when he began to behold the spiritual things. Then said the good man,
“Now wottest thou who I am?” “Nay,” said Sir Galahad. “I am Joseph of
Arimathea, whom our Lord hath sent here to thee, to bear thee
fellowship.” Then Sir Galahad held up his hands toward heaven, and said,
“Now, blessed Lord, would I not longer live, if it might please thee.”
And when he had said these words, Sir Galahad went to Sir Perceval and
to Sir Bohort and kissed them, and commended them to God. And then he
kneeled down before the table, and made his prayers, and suddenly his
soul departed, and a great multitude of angels bare his soul up to
heaven, so as the two fellows could well behold it. Also they saw come
from heaven a hand, but they saw not the body; and the hand came right
to the vessel and bare it up to heaven. Since then was there never one
so hardy as to say that he had seen the Sangreal on earth any more.
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