The Nativity of Galahad
_Here followeth the story of the nativity of Sir Galahad and of how Sir
Gawaine heard a miraculous prophecy concerning the Achievement of the
Holy Grail, and of how it was prophesied that Sir Galahad should achieve
that holy chalice. Also it shall be told how the infant Galahad was
confided to the care of Sir Bors de Ganis, who alone knew what then
became of him, until in due time he was manifested to the world as the
greatest and the most puissant knight who ever lived._
[Illustration: Merlin Prophesieth from a Cloud of Mist:]
[Illustration]
Chapter First
_How Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir Gawaine went forth in search of Sir
Launcelot. How they parted company, and what befell Sir Gawaine
thereafter._
Now the history hath been told of those things that happened to several
of the knights who went forth in quest of Sir Launcelot after that he
went mad as aforetold; to wit, the history hath been told of Sir
Percival and of Sir Ewaine and of Sir Sagramore and of Sir Ector de
Maris. Here followeth an account of that which befell Sir Gawaine, when
he, together with Sir Bors de Ganis, also went forth in search of Sir
Launcelot.
After they two had left the court of King Arthur they joined company for
a while. Thus travelling together as companions in arms, they met with
several adventures, some of which are told in histories of chivalry and
some of which are not. In such companionship there passed the spring and
the summer and by and by it was the fall of the year.
[Sidenote: _How Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors rode forth together._]
Now some there be who love the summer time the best and some there be
that love the spring; yet others still there be who love the autumn the
best of all. And certes each season hath its beauties, so that one
cannot wonder that there are some who love the beauties of the fall
above the beauties of all other seasons. For in that time of the year
there comes the nutting season, when country folk take joy in being
abroad in the hazel thickets, gathering the bright brown fruits of the
hazel bushes. Then are days so clear and frosty, all early in the
morning, that it is as though the whole vault of heaven were made of
clear crystal. Then, when you look into the cold blue shadows of the
wayside bank, there you behold everywhere the sparkling of many myriads
of bright points of light where the thin frosts catch the shining of the
early and yet slanting sun. Then do the birds cry with a wilder note as
though heralding the approach of dreary winter. Then do the squirrels
gambol in the dry, dead foliage in search of their winter store of food.
Then is all the world clad very gloriously in russet and gold, and when
the bright and jolly sun shines down through the thin yellow leaves of
the woodland, all the earth appears to be illuminated with a wonderful
splendor of golden light, so that it may be that even the glory of
Paradise is not more wonderful than that unusual radiance.
Such was the world of autumn in which in the latter part of their
journeyings in company those two noble knights made progress together.
For anon they would ride along the smooth and dusty highways, where were
hedgerows, growing thin of leaves but all bright with red and purple
berries; and anon they would be riding through some thin woodland where
the dry and fallen leaves rustled under foot with a sound like to a
faint thunder of multitudinous rustlings; and anon they would be
journeying along the wolds where the wind blew strong and free and the
great white clouds sailed very smoothly and solemnly across the sky
above their heads.
[Sidenote: _They meet Sir Percival and Sir Sagramore._]
So travelling ever in that wise--sometimes here, sometimes there--they
came one day in the early morning to where there was a smooth and
shining lake, the chill waters whereof were all asmoke in the gentle
warmth of the newly risen sun. And here were sedge and reeds, all fading
brown and yellow, and at many places, wild fowl, disturbed at their
coming, would spring up with loud and noisy splashings from the
entangled water. So as they went beside that lake they beheld two
knights coming toward them, riding side by side in the sunlight. And
when they four had met together and had saluted one another and had
bespoken one another, they found that those two knights were Sir
Percival and Sir Sagramore, and that they also were journeying as armed
companions, as aforetold of in this history.
So they four went a little farther to where there was a pleasant
thatched farmhouse not far distant from the roadside, and there they
broke their fast with bread and milk and fresh laid eggs and honey,
which the farmer's wife served to them.
[Sidenote: _Sir Sagramore telleth of the Adventure of the Fountain._]
Then Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors besought Sir Percival and Sir Sagramore
for news, and therewith they two told Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors how they
had parted with Sir Ewaine and how that he had gone upon that Adventure
of the Fountain. Then Sir Sagramore told them how it had befallen with
him upon that same adventure, and to all this Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors
listened very intently. And after Sir Sagramore had ended his story, Sir
Bors and Sir Gawaine asked him many questions concerning those
happenings, and he answered all that they asked him. Then Sir Gawaine
said: "Well, Messire, I wot that all this mischief of which thou tellest
us was brewed by that sorceress the Lady Vivien. Well I know her, and
often have I had reason to chide her in times gone by for the mischiefs
she was continually plotting against innocent folk. Now I have a mind to
turn aside from my present quest and to find that lady and to bring her
to repentance. And if I may not bring her to repentance then I shall
compel her to undo all these mischiefs she hath done in this matter of
the Fountain." Then Sir Sagramore said: "Sir, hearken to me and let be,
or else thou wilt entangle thyself in those mischiefs also."
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine seeketh the Lady Vivien._]
So spake Sir Sagramore very wisely, but Sir Gawaine would not listen to
what he said; otherwise he declared and affirmed that he would go and
find the Lady Vivien and have speech with her so that he would either
persuade or else compel her to better conduct. So ere Sir Percival and
Sir Sagramore had departed from that farmhouse, Sir Gawaine had
diligently inquired the way in which he should go so as to be likely to
find the Lady Vivien, and after that he bade Sir Sagramore and Sir
Percival farewell, and he bade Sir Bors farewell, and so took horse and
rode away in quest of the Lady Vivien.
Now after Sir Gawaine had thus parted company with those other knights,
he travelled all alone upon his way for the entire day, and that night
he lodged in the woodland, near to where there was a fountain of clear
pure water. And as he had no other shelter he wrapped himself in his
cloak and laid his head upon his helmet and so fell asleep with great
comfort and peace of mind.
So also he awoke very cheerfully in the dawning of the day, and laying
aside his armor he went to the fountain of water near to which he had
reposed and bathed himself therein and so was refreshed.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine findeth the Lady Vivien._]
Now after that and while Sir Gawaine was still unarmed, he was suddenly
aware that several people were coming thitherward toward him through
the yellow woodlands, and when they had come pretty near he beheld that
those who approached were a company in attendance upon a lady. And he
beheld that the company and the lady who rode in the midst of that
company were clad all in flame-colored satin, so that the entire
woodland was illuminated, as it were, by a great shining, flaming fire.
And when that lady had come pretty nigh to Sir Gawaine, he knew who she
was and wist that she was the Lady Vivien.
Then Sir Gawaine went to meet that lady, and he laid his hand upon the
bridle rein of her palfrey and he said: "Lady, if I mistake not, thou
art the Lady Vivien."
Quoth she: "Yea, I am that one, and thou, I perceive, art Sir Gawaine."
To the which Sir Gawaine said, "Yea, I am he," and he said, "I have come
hither with the especial purpose of having speech with thee."
Upon this the Lady Vivien looked at Sir Gawaine very strangely, and by
and by she said, "What is it thou wouldst have of me, Messire?"
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine rebuketh the Lady Vivien._]
Sir Gawaine said: "Lady, I am informed that thou hast done much mischief
to a certain valley called the Valley of the Fountain, and I know that
through this mischief thou hast brought mischance upon many good worthy
knights. Now what I would have to say to thee is this: I would beseech
thee to remove all of those mischievous enchantments from that Valley of
the Fountain and so set that valley free from the ills that happen to
it. This I beseech thee of thy gentleness to do, but if thou wilt not do
it because I so beseech thee, then I will compel thee here and now to
remove those enchantments."
Then the Lady Vivien's brows drew together into a frown and her cheeks
grew very red and her eyes shown like sparks of fire, and she said:
"Hah, Messire, methinks thou art very saucy in thy speech. What is it to
thee what mischiefs I may do to others? Lo! I do no mischiefs to thee,
wherefore this is none of thy affairs. Now I bid thee straightway to
take thy hand from off my bridle rein or else a greater ill than thou
hast any thought of will speedily befall thee."
Sir Gawaine said: "I will not take away my hand until thou hast promised
me to do that thing which I have demanded of thee and to remove the
enchantments of the Valley of the Fountain."
The Lady Vivien said, "Take away thy hand, Messire!" Sir Gawaine said,
"I will not."
Then the Lady Vivien cried out: "Thou fool! Then thank thyself for what
thou shalt suffer."
Now the Lady Vivien had in her hand a long white wand and as she spake
she lifted this wand and smote Sir Gawaine with it upon the shoulder.
And as she smote him she cried out: "Quit the shape that thou now hast
and take instead the shape of a misshapen dwarf."
[Sidenote: _The Lady Vivien bewitcheth Sir Gawaine._]
Then as she cried in that shrill and piercing voice, there befell a very
wonderful thing, for, upon the instant, it happened in that wise as she
commanded. For Sir Gawaine immediately began to shrink and to shrivel so
that in the space one might count five he had ceased to be what he was
and became instead a misshapen and diminutive dwarf.
Then all they of the Lady Vivien's party laughed and laughed until all
the woods echoed with their mirth. And thus laughing, they took their
departure, and rode away from that place, leaving Sir Gawaine standing
there all bewildered and astonished with terror at what had befallen
him.
So he stood for a little, like one in a maze, but after those others had
entirely gone, he suddenly awoke, as it were, to his woful case. Then
straightway he began running hither and thither, as though he had gone
mad. And he ran in this direction and in that direction, seeking for the
Lady Vivien, but nowhere could he discover any sign of her or her court.
And ever as he ran he cried aloud in a voice of exceeding agony, "Have
mercy! Have mercy!" But, as aforesaid, the lady and those who were with
her had disappeared, and only the lonely woodlands surrounded him. Yet
it appeared to him that he heard the sound of mocking laughter echoing
through the forest, though whether that was really so or whether he was
cheated by his fancy he could not certainly tell.
So after a while Sir Gawaine flung himself down upon the earth and wept
with despair. Then after another while he bestirred himself and prayed
God for help and wiped his eyes. And after that he gathered together the
pieces of his armor which he could not now wear upon his shrunken and
misshapen body, and he carried these pieces of armor away and hid them
in a cave which he had observed not far distant from that place. Then he
mounted upon his horse and rode away, not knowing whither to turn or
what to do in the direful trouble that had fallen upon him.
Now after he had ridden for a while in that way, perched high upon his
horse like some diminutive and withered ape, being still in the
woodlands, he was aware of the sound of voices and of horses' hoofs
coming toward him and then he was further aware of a company approaching
from a distance through the half-naked forest.
[Sidenote: _The Forest company behold Sir Gawaine as a dwarf._]
Then Sir Gawaine was filled with a great panic of shame, and he thought
of naught but how he might hide himself and his misshapen body from
those who were coming. But ere he was able to hide himself, those others
had catched sight of him. And they saw how singularly small and
deformed and withered was his shape, wherefore they shouted aloud and
gave chase to him as though he had been a wild creature. So they pursued
him for a long distance and at last they came up with him and surrounded
him.
Then, finding that he could not escape, Sir Gawaine leaped down from his
horse's back, and flinging himself upon the ground he covered his face
with his hands and sought to bury it, as it were, under the earth, so
that they who had caught him might not behold the shame of his misshapen
countenance. But they dragged him to his feet and they pulled his hands
away from his face and beheld it what it was. Then, when they beheld
that his face was like the face of an ape they all shouted aloud again
and again with laughter.
Then he who was the chief of that party said: "Who are you and how is it
that a misshapen dwarf such as you should be riding about here in the
forest upon a noble and knightly war-horse?" To the which Sir Gawaine
said: "Sir, a great misfortune hath befallen me, and I am not he whom I
was a little while ago." So said Sir Gawaine, and when they heard his
speech they thought he jested wherefore they laughed again and again
with a great uproar of laughter.
[Sidenote: _They mock at Sir Gawaine._]
Then he who had spoken to Sir Gawaine turned to those others and said,
"This poor creature is mad," but Sir Gawaine cried out: "Nay, I am not
mad, but very miserable and unfortunate. For this morning I was a noble
knight of royal lineage and now I am what you behold me."
At this speech they who heard laughed more than ever, for they thought
no otherwise than that this poor dwarf was mad and was making sport for
them.
Then he who had before spoken to Sir Gawaine spake still again, saying:
"Sirrah, you are to know that the pet dwarf of the lady of the castle at
which we dwell hath died only a few days ago. Now I will that you shall
go with us to her, and that you shall serve her instead of the other
creature who is dead. For certes you are the smallest and the most
misshapen elf that ever I beheld in all of my life. What think you of
this? If you go with us you shall have meat and drink in plenty and you
shall have good clothes and lodging and fifty bright silver pennies a
year for your hire."
Then Sir Gawaine cried out in a voice of great anguish: "I will not go
with you for such a service. For if you did but know who I am and what
it is that hath befallen me, you would know that such as I are not they
to take such service upon them, nor am I one to make sport for a lady
by exhibiting the miserable condition into which I have fallen from an
one time high estate."
Thus said Sir Gawaine in a great agony of spirit, but still those that
heard him did but laugh. Then seeing that he was of no mind to go with
them, they bound his hands and his feet together so that he could not
escape and so they constrained him to go whether he would or not.
After that they departed out of that forest and away therefrom, and by
and by Sir Gawaine beheld that they were approaching a castle and that
the castle was a very noble, stately, and lordly dwelling place.
[Sidenote: _They bring Sir Gawaine to the castle of a lady._]
So they came to the castle and entered into the courtyard thereof, and
after they had so arrived, he who was the leader of that party took Sir
Gawaine up to a certain place where the lady of the castle was, and he
said to her: "Lady, behold this dwarf; we have caught him in the
woodlands and have brought him to you to serve you instead of that
creature who died a while since. Saw ye ever such a wonderful dwarf as
this?"
Then the lady of the castle looked upon Sir Gawaine and beheld how
exceedingly diminutive he was and how exceedingly misshapen. And she was
astonished at his appearance, and she said to him, "Who art thou, and
whence comest thou?" She spake with such kindness and gentleness that
Sir Gawaine was emboldened to tell her of his misfortune wherefore he
cried out: "Lady, if I would tell you you would not believe me, for I am
not what I appear to be, but am something altogether different. This
morning I was a noble knight, but I have been enchanted and now I am
what you behold me."
[Sidenote: _The lady pitieth Sir Gawaine._]
At this the lady of the castle also thought that Sir Gawaine was
certainly mad, wherefore she said: "This poor creature is not in his
senses. Take him hence and treat him very kindly. Let him be fed and
clothed and then chain him with a very light chain of silver so that he
may not escape until he hath become used to this place, and yet so that
he may not be burdened with these chains."
So spoke the lady very kindly and gently, but Sir Gawaine was filled
full of an utter despair at her words. So he was taken away and fed like
to some pet creature and he was chained as the lady had said and ever he
wept for pure despair.
Now the lady of that castle was very tender of heart, wherefore she
pitied Sir Gawaine because he appeared to be so misshapen and deformed.
So ever she spoke kindly and gently to him and she would not suffer that
any of the people of the castle should torment him. Thus it was that
though at first Sir Gawaine was minded to escape from the castle, yet
afterward he would not escape, for he said to himself: "Why should I
leave this place; and where can I, poor wretch that I be, find a better
and kinder shelter in my misfortunes than I have at this castle?" So he
became gentle and tractable and would not have quitted that place even
if he could have done so.
[Sidenote: _How Sir Gawaine dwelleth at the castle._]
And Sir Gawaine abode in that castle for more than a year, and ever the
lady treated him with kindness and with gentle tenderness and ever he
treated her with such courtliness as a knight royal might bestow upon a
lady. So great was his courtliness of demeanor that the lady marvelled
much thereat, yea, insomuch that she said to herself: "Certes this poor
creature must have been reared in a noble court or else he must have
dwelt a long time in such a place, for to have learned such courtliness
of manner as he showeth."
And sometimes it befell that the lady would question Sir Gawaine as to
what had happened to him in times gone by; but Sir Gawaine had taught
himself wisdom upon that point and now he would tell her nothing; for he
was aware that whenever he had been moved to speak about himself and
what had befallen him, then they who heard him would think him to be
mad, and would laugh at him and mock him, wherefore he would no longer
give any one the chance to declare that he was mad. So ever he held his
peace and ever the lady of the castle wondered how it was that he had
come to have so much of gentleness and dignity of demeanor.
So that winter and another winter passed, and during all that time Sir
Gawaine abode at the castle of the gentle lady as aforesaid. Then came
the springtime and the summertime again, and the season when all the
trees were green and bosky and when the days were warm and balmy once
more.
Now it befell about the middle of that summer that the lord and the lady
of the castle whereof Sir Gawaine was now the dwarf went forth ahawking,
and a very gay court of the castle folk went with them. With these the
lady took her dwarf, for it was now come that she could hardly ever bear
to be parted from him. And it befell that when the heat of the day had
come the lord of the castle gave orders that a pavilion should be
pitched in a pleasant shady place, and there he and his lady took their
midday meal and rested until the sun should shed a less fervid heat.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine beholdeth the golden bird._]
That time Sir Gawaine was wandering very sadly about the skirts of the
forest, making great moan of that enchantment that lay upon him. So as
he wandered he was suddenly aware of a bird with plumage of gold that
sat upon the ground at a little distance, regarding him with eyes that
were very bright and shining. Now when Sir Gawaine beheld that bird, his
heart leaped very strangely in his breast, for he bethought him that
this was that same golden bird of the Lady Nymue of the Lake which she
had sent to him one time before to guide him to the valley where Sir
Pellias was abiding. For it hath been aforetime told in that Book of
King Arthur (which hath been written before this book) how that same
golden bird had conducted Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine and Sir Marhaus of
Ireland through the forest to where Sir Pellias was at that time in
great trouble and anxiety of soul. So Sir Gawaine, beholding that bird
there in the forest, wist that it was the Lady Nymue's bird, and he
thought that if he should follow it now, maybe it might bring him to the
Lady of the Lake, and that she would release him from his deformity.
So Sir Gawaine went back to that pavilion whence he had come, and he
took a palfrey that he found there, and no one stayed him, for the dwarf
was now permitted to go whithersoever he pleased. So Sir Gawaine mounted
the palfrey and departed without saying a single word to any one, and no
one stayed him in his going.
So Sir Gawaine came again to where he had seen the bird and the bird was
still sitting upon the ground where he had first beheld it.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine followeth the golden bird into the forest._]
Then as Sir Gawaine approached the bird it took wing and flew with
shrill chirping to a little distance and then settled again upon the
ground. And when Sir Gawaine approached it again, again it took wing and
flew chirping to a little distance. So ever it flew and so ever Sir
Gawaine followed, and thus it conducted him into the forest and away
from that place where was the pavilion of the lord and lady.
Thus ever the golden bird led the way and ever Sir Gawaine followed,
until, at last, the bird brought Sir Gawaine out of the forest and to a
strange place which he had never beheld before. For beyond the edge of
the woodland he beheld a dreary valley, naked and bare, and covered all
over with a great multitude of stones and rocks. And in that valley
could be seen no sign of vegetation or of herbage of any sort, but only
those naked and desolate rocks and stones all shining bright in the heat
of the sun as though they were ribs of stones shining in a furnace of
fire.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine beholdeth the cloudy mist._]
And Sir Gawaine beheld that in the centre of the valley there was a
cloud of thick mist in the shape of a solid pillar of smoke. And he
beheld that that cloud of mist moved not in any way but remained fixed
in its place as it were a pillar of stone.
Then Sir Gawaine looked for that golden bird and he beheld it perched
upon the high branches of a tree near by. And he saw that the bird had
folded its wings as though to rest, wherefore he knew that there must
be somewhat at this place for him to undertake, and that the bird must
have conducted him to this place for that purpose.
So Sir Gawaine, in that enchanted appearance of a dwarf, went down into
the valley and drew near to that pillar of mist. And he came close to
the cloud and he stood and looked upon it. Then as he so stood, a voice
issued of a sudden out of the midst of the cloud saying, "Gawaine!
Gawaine! is it thou who art there?" And Sir Gawaine was astonished
beyond all measure that a voice should thus address him from out of the
midst of the pillar of cloud, for he had long since ceased to think that
any creature, mortal or otherwise, would know him in the guise into
which the Lady Vivien had bewitched him.
But though he was so astonished, yet he answered in the voice of the
dwarf, saying, "Who art thou who callest upon the name of Gawaine, the
son of Lot of Orkney?"
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine heareth the voice of Merlin._]
Then the voice replied: "I who speak to thee am Merlin. Here for twelve
years have I been lying asleep, enclosed in a coffer of stone, yet once
in every six years I awake for one hour of life and at the end of that
hour I relapse into sleep again. This is my time for waking, and so hast
thou been brought hither that thou mightest hear that prophecy that I
have to utter.
"And this is my prophecy:
[Sidenote: _Of the prophecy of Merlin._]
"The Sacred Grail that has been lost to the earth for so long shall be
brought back to that earth again. Yea, the time draweth nigh and now is
when he who shall achieve the Quest of that Holy Chalice is about to be
born into the world."
And the voice from out of the cloud continued, saying:
"When that babe is born into the world he shall be taken away by that
knight who is most worthy to handle him, and after he hath been taken
away he shall be hidden by that knight from the eyes of man until his
time hath come.
"You, who are a sinful man, may not have that babe in your keeping, but
there is one who hath but little of sin and he may do so. So do you
according to the ordination of this command:
"Follow that golden-winged thing that hath conducted you hither and it
will lead you to where you may become purified of your enchantment.
After that you shall follow that golden bird still farther and it will
lead you to where you shall find Sir Bors de Ganis. He it is who is most
worthy in all of the world at this present for to handle that babe, and
so he shall care for him and shall hide him in a place of safety until
his time shall be come.
"Bid Sir Bors to follow that golden bird along with you and it shall
bring you both to where you shall find that wonderful infant aforesaid.
"Thereafter, when that babe shall have been taken away by Sir Bors, go
you forth and proclaim to all men that when eighteen years have passed,
then shall the Knights of the Round Table depart in quest of the Holy
Grail. And do you proclaim this prophecy: that when that Grail hath been
recovered, then soon after shall come the end of the Round Table, and so
shall end the days of all this chivalry that shall forever be remembered
to all the world.
"And this is the prophecy of the Grail which you have been brought
hither to hear, so go you forth and declare it abroad so that all good
worthy knights may know that this prophecy hath been uttered."
So spake that voice, and then it ceased and Sir Gawaine listened for a
while, but still it spake no more. Then Sir Gawaine cried out aloud:
"Merlin, what may I do to free thee from the enchantment that lieth upon
thee?" And he waited for a reply, but no reply was vouchsafed him. And
he cried out again, "Merlin, what may I do to free thee from where thou
liest?" but still no answer was given to him.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine striveth to enter the cloud of mist._]
Then Sir Gawaine went forward with intent to enter that cloud of mist,
but lo! it was like to a wall of adamant and he could nowhere enter into
it. And he strove at several places but still there was no place where
he might penetrate it. For the enchantment that lay upon that pillar of
mist was so potent that it was not possible for any one to enter it
saving only the enchantress Vivien, who herself had created that cloud
by her powerful enchantments.
And ever Sir Gawaine called repeatedly upon the name of Merlin, but at
no time did Merlin answer him. Then by and by Sir Gawaine was aware that
the golden bird that had brought him to that place was flitting hither
and thither near by, as though it were very restless to depart. So Sir
Gawaine was aware that it behooved him presently to quit that place
whither he might never return again. So once more he called aloud upon
Merlin, saying, "Farewell, Merlin," and it appeared to him that he heard
a voice, very faint and distant as though sounding from a dream that is
fading, and he seemed that voice said, "Farewell."
Thereafter Sir Gawaine mounted his palfrey and turned him about and
departed from that place, still in the guise of a dwarf, and so that
prophecy of Merlin was completed.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Of the sleep of Merlin._]
And never more after that time was the voice of Merlin heard again, for
no one saving Sir Gawaine ever found that valley with its pillar of
cloud. Yet it may be that Merlin did but sleep, for it was prophesied
of him that at the ending of the age he should come forth again into the
world, but whether he should come forth in the spirit or in the flesh,
no one knew. Yea, there be many who opine that Merlin hath awakened
again and is alive this very day, for such miracles are performed in
these times that it is hardly possible to suppose otherwise than that
the spirit of Merlin is in the world once more. Wherefore it is that
many suppose that he is now again alive, though haply in the spirit.
* * * * *
Now followeth the story of the birth of Galahad, who was the most famous
knight who ever lived in the world and who achieved the Quest of the
Grail as was foretold by Merlin in that prophecy herein recounted. So I
pray you to read that story as it shall presently be told.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Sir Bors de Ganis, the good:]
[Illustration]
Chapter Second
_How Sir Bors and Sir Gawaine came to a priory in the forest, and how
Galahad was born at that place._
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine cometh to the magic lake._]
So Sir Gawaine followed the golden bird away from that valley of
enchantment where Merlin lay bound in sleep in the stone coffer (and
concerning that stone coffer and the enchantment of Merlin it was
aforetold of at length in the Book of King Arthur). And ever he followed
that winged golden creature both long and far, and ever the bird ceased
not to flit before him, but led him onward in a certain direction. So
thus it befell that toward the evening of that same day Sir Gawaine,
still following the golden bird, came out of the forest again and to a
wonderful place, lit by a strange golden light that was not like the
light of the moon nor like the light of the sun nor like any other kind
of light that was to be found in the world of mortal man. For though it
was toward evening when Sir Gawaine came to that place, yet everywhere
there was that golden radiance both upon earth and in the sky. And in
this light Sir Gawaine beheld a wide and circular lake, very still and
shining, and without any ripple upon the face thereof, so that it was
rather like to a lake of crystal than to a lake of water. And all about
the margin of the lake there bloomed an incredible number of tall
flowers, both lily flowers and asphodels.
Then, as Sir Gawaine drave his horse forward through those flowers, he
became aware that this was that magic lake where dwelt the Lady Nymue of
the Lake and where dwelt Sir Pellias who was her lord and the
knight-champion of the lake--for he had beheld that lake aforetime by
moonlight when he had followed Sir Pellias to that place.
Now as Sir Gawaine thus advanced amidst the flowers, he was aware that a
little distance away there stood a pavilion of green satin adorned with
golden figures of cherubim and so he went forward toward that pavilion,
for ever the golden bird led him thitherward.
So as he came toward that pavilion there issued forth therefrom a lady
who came to meet him. And that lady was clad all in a garment of shining
green; and she wore about her neck many bright and glistering ornaments
of gold inset with stones about her wrists and arms. And her hair was
perfectly black and her face was white like to ivory for whiteness and
her eyes were black and shining like to two jewels set in ivory. And Sir
Gawaine immediately knew that lady who she was and that she was the Lady
of the Lake herself; for so she appeared to King Arthur and so she
appeared to several others, as you may read of if it should please you
in those volumes of this history that were written before this volume.
So the Lady of the Lake came forward to meet Sir Gawaine, and she beheld
Sir Gawaine how that he was bewitched into the guise of a dwarf as
aforetold. And the lady said: "Certes, Messire, this is a great
misfortune that hath befallen thee. Now I prithee come with me until I
make an end of thy enchantment."
So the Lady of the Lake took the horse of Sir Gawaine by the bridle, and
she led the horse through those flowers for some little distance, and so
brought him to the margin of the waters of the lake. And when they had
come there the Lady of the Lake stooped and dipped up some of the water
of the lake into her hand; and she flung the water upon Sir Gawaine,
crying out in a high and piercing voice: "Cease from thy present shape,
and assume that shape that is thine own!"
[Sidenote: _The Lady of the Lake healeth Sir Gawaine of his
enchantment._]
Therewith, upon an instant, the enchantment that had rested upon Sir
Gawaine was released from him and he became himself again, resuming his
own knightly appearance instead of that semblance of a misshapen dwarf
into which the enchantment of the Lady Vivien had cast him.
Then Sir Gawaine leaped down from off the back of that poor palfrey upon
which he had been riding, and he kneeled down before that fair and
gentle Lady of the Lake, and he set the palms of his hands together and
gave her words of pure gratitude beyond stint that she had removed that
enchantment from him. And ever the Lady of the Lake looked down upon Sir
Gawaine and smiled very kindly upon him. And she said: "Messire, abide
this night in yonder pavilion, for it hath been prepared for thee to
rest in. To-morrow, after thou hast thus rested and refreshed thyself,
then thou shalt go forward upon thy way again."
[Sidenote: _The Lady of the Lake departeth._]
Then the Lady of the Lake gave her hand to Sir Gawaine and he took it
and kissed it. And after that she turned and approached the lake, and at
that time the sky was all golden both with the glory of the fading day
and with that other glory, the strange magic light that embalmed that
wonderful lake as aforetold. And Sir Gawaine, still kneeling upon the
strand of the lake, beheld that the Lady of the Lake reached the water,
and stretched forth her foot and set it upon the surface of the lake as
though the water had been a sheet of clear glass. And as soon as that
lady thus touched the water of the lake, she immediately disappeared
from sight, and thenceforth was seen no more at that time.
After that Sir Gawaine arose from where he kneeled, and he went toward
the pavilion and as he approached it there came forth two esquires to
meet him. And those esquires were people of the lake, for they also were
clad in garments of green like the garments of the Lady of the Lake, and
those garments also shone with a singular lustre as did her garments.
And their hair was perfectly black and each wore a fillet of gold about
his head.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine is served by the people of the lake._]
These came to Sir Gawaine and conducted him to the pavilion and into the
pavilion. In the pavilion was a couch and Sir Gawaine seated himself
thereon, and after he had done so the two esquires brought a table of
gold and placed it before him. Then they spread a napkin of white linen
upon the table and anon they set before Sir Gawaine a very bounteous
feast of various meats, and of manchets of white bread and of divers
wines both red and white. So Sir Gawaine ate and drank and refreshed
himself, and meantime the two esquires of the lake served him in all
ways.
After that Sir Gawaine laid him down to sleep, and he slept very
peacefully and gently and without any anxiety whatsoever. And when the
morning had come he bestirred himself and presently there came to him
those two esquires and aided him to arise. And they brought new rich
garments for him to wear, and they brought him food wherewith to refresh
himself, and after that they brought him a suit of splendid armor,
polished like a mirror and inlaid with various singular devices in gold.
Then those esquires of the lake armed Sir Gawaine and brought him forth
from the pavilion, and Sir Gawaine beheld a noble and lordly war-horse
caparisoned in all ways, and in all ways fitting for a Knight Royal to
ride upon. And the esquire said to him: "Sir, this is your horse, and it
hath been purveyed expressly for you."
So Sir Gawaine viewed the war-horse and saw how noble it was, and he
mounted upon it with great joy of possession and he gave thanks without
measure to those two esquires who had served him. After that he rode
away from that place with such lightness of heart and with such peace
and happiness of spirit as doth not often come to any man in this life.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine followeth the golden bird once more._]
Then presently there came that golden bird once more and flitted before
Sir Gawaine as it had aforetime done, chirping very shrilly the while.
And Sir Gawaine followed the bird once more as aforetime, and it led him
as it had before done ever in a certain direction. So it brought him
onward in that wise until about the middle of the day, what time he came
forth into an open place of the forest and there beheld before him the
forest hermitage several times mentioned in these histories.
And Sir Gawaine saw that a noble black war-horse stood beside that
forest sanctuary, and he saw that a great spear leaned against a tree
beside the hermitage and that a shield hung from the spear. And when Sir
Gawaine had come close enough he knew by the device upon that shield
that it was Sir Bors de Ganis who was there at the hermitage.
Now as Sir Gawaine approached the cell of the hermit of the forest, the
horse of Sir Bors neighed aloud, and the horse of Sir Gawaine neighed in
answer. Therewith, as though that neighing had been a summons, the door
of the hut opened and the hermit appeared in the doorway, shading his
eyes with his hand from the glare of the sun. So when he perceived that
it was Sir Gawaine who approached that lonely place he cried out aloud:
"Welcome Sir Gawaine! Welcome to this place! Sir Bors is here and
awaiting thee. For it hath been told him in a dream that thou wouldst
meet him here at this time to-day, and so he is here awaiting thy coming
in fulfillment of that dream."
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine meets Sir Bors again._]
So Sir Gawaine dismounted from his horse and he entered the cell of the
hermit and there he beheld Sir Bors kneeling at prayer at a little
altar, and Sir Gawaine stood and waited until Sir Bors had finished his
orisons. And when Sir Bors had crossed himself and had arisen to his
feet, he turned with great joy and took Sir Gawaine into his arms; and
either embraced the other and either kissed the other upon the cheek.
After that they sat down and the hermit brought them food and they ate
of the simple fare of the hermit's cell, and meantime Sir Gawaine told
Sir Bors all that had happened to him since they had parted company. To
all that was said Sir Bors listened with deep attention, for he was
much, astonished at that which had befallen Sir Gawaine and at the
enchantment he had suffered at the hands of the Lady Vivien. And indeed
it was, of a surety, a very wonderful adventure, such as any one might
well have marvelled to hear tell of.
But when Sir Gawaine told Sir Bors concerning the prophecy of Merlin,
then Sir Bors became all enwrapped as with a certain exaltation of
spirit. Wherefore, when Sir Gawaine had finished that part of his
story, Sir Bors cried out: "How wonderful is this miracle that thou
tellest me! Know ye that certain things of this sort have been presented
before me of late in several dreams, but lo! now they have been
manifested to thee in reality." And he said: "Let us straightway arise
and go forth hence, for methinks that even now we have tarried too long
in performing the bidding of this prophecy." Accordingly they arose and
they gave thanks in full measure to that good old hermit and they bade
him farewell. Thereafter they went forth and mounted their horses and
took shield and spear in hand and departed thence, and after they had so
departed, straightway the golden bird appeared once more and flew
chirping before them.
Then Sir Bors, beholding the bird, said: "Lo! is not yonder the bird
that has been sent to lead us upon our way?" And Sir Gawaine said, "Yea;
that is it." And then Sir Bors said, "Let us follow it apace."
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors follow the golden bird._]
[Sidenote: _They come to the priory of the valley._]
So they followed the bird, and ever it flew before them, leading them
upon the way. Thus they travelled for a long while, until at last,
toward the sloping of the afternoon, they became aware that the forest
wherein they rode was becoming thinner. And anon they were aware of the
ringing of a bell somewhere not a great distance away. And the bird led
them toward where that bell was ringing, and so in a little pass they
came forth out of the forest and into a very fertile valley. And there
was a smooth river, not very broad, that flowed down through the valley,
and beside the river there was a fair priory, not large in size but very
comely, with white walls and red roofs and many shining windows, very
bright in the sun. And all about the priory were fair fields and
orchards and gardens, all illuminated very bright and warm, in the full
light of the slanting sun that was now turning all the world to gold by
its bright, yellow and very glorious shining.
So when Sir Bors and Sir Gawaine entered this pleasant plain, the golden
bird that had led them thitherward suddenly chirped very loud and
shrill, and straightway flew high aloft into the air and immediately
disappeared over the tree tops. Thereupon those two champions knew with
certainty that this must be the place whither they were to come, and
they wist that here they should doubtless find that young child of which
the prophecy of Merlin had spoken. So they went forward toward the
priory with a certain awe, as not knowing what next of mystery was to
happen to them.
[Sidenote: _They meet Sir Lavaine._]
So as they approached that holy place, the gateway of the priory was
suddenly opened, and there came forth a young knight of a very noble
and haughty appearance, and both Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors knew that one,
that he was Sir Lavaine, the brother of the Lady Elaine, and whilom the
companion in arms of Sir Launcelot of the Lake. And as they drew more
near they beheld that the face of Sir Lavaine was very sad and that he
smiled not at all as he gave them greeting, saying: "Ye are welcome,
Messires, and ye come none too soon, for we have been waiting for you
since the morning." And he said, "Dismount and come with me."
So Sir Bors and Sir Gawaine dismounted from their horses and straightway
there came several attendants and took the steeds and led them away to
stable. Then Sir Lavaine turned, and he beckoned with his hand, and Sir
Bors and Sir Gawaine followed after as he had commanded them to do. So
Sir Lavaine brought them through several passageways and from place to
place until at last he brought them to a small cell of the priory, very
cold and bare and white as snow.
[Sidenote: _They behold the Lady Elaine._]
In the centre of the cell there lay a couch and upon the couch there lay
a figure as still as death and Sir Bors and Sir Gawaine beheld that it
was the Lady Elaine who lay there. Her hair lay spread out all over the
pillow of the couch, shining like to pure gold, and in the midst of the
hair her face shone very white, like to pure clear wax for whiteness.
Her eyes looked, as it were, from out of a faint shadow and gazed ever
straight before her and she never stirred nor moved her gaze as Sir Bors
and Sir Gawaine and Sir Lavaine entered her cell; for it was as though
her looks were fixed upon something very strange that she beheld a great
distance away.
[Sidenote: _They behold the young child._]
Then Sir Lavaine, speaking in a whisper, said, "Come near and behold,"
and thereupon Sir Bors and Sir Gawaine came close to the couch upon
which the Lady Elaine lay. So when they had come nigh, Sir Lavaine
lifted the coverlet very softly and they beheld that a new-born babe lay
beside the lady upon that couch. Then they wist that that babe was the
child of Sir Launcelot of the Lake and the Lady Elaine; and they wist
that this was the babe of whom Merlin had spoken in his prophecy. For
the child was very wonderfully beautiful, and it was as though a certain
clear radiance of light shone forth from its face; and it lay so
perfectly still that it was like as though it did not live. So Sir Bors
and Sir Gawaine knew because of these and several other things that this
must indeed be that very child whom they had come to find. Yea, it was
as though a voice from a distance said: "Behold! this is that one who
shall achieve the Quest of the Holy Grail according to the prophecy of
Merlin."
So Sir Bors and Sir Gawaine kneeled down beside the bed and set their
palms together, and Sir Lavaine stood near them, and for a while all was
very silent in that place. Then suddenly the Lady Elaine spake in that
silence in a voice very faint and remote but very clear, and as she
spake she turned not her eyes toward any one of them, but gazed ever
straight before her. And she said, "Sir Bors, art thou there?" and Sir
Bors said, "Yea, Lady."
[Sidenote: _The Lady Elaine bespeaketh Sir Bors._]
Then she said: "Behold this child and look you upon him, for this is he
who shall achieve the Quest of the Holy Grail and shall bring it back to
the earth again. So he shall become the greatest knight that ever the
world beheld. But though he shall be the greatest champion at arms that
ever lived, yet also he shall be gentle and meek and without sin,
innocent like to a little child. And because he is to be so high in
chivalry and so pure of life, therefore his name shall be called
Galahad." And she said again, "Sir Bors, art thou there?" and he said,
"Yea, Lady."
She said: "My time draweth near, for even now I behold the shining gates
of Paradise, though it yet is that I behold them faintly, as through a
vapor of mist. Yet anon that mist shall pass, and I shall behold those
gates very near by and shining in glory; for soon I shall quit this
troubled world for that bright and beautiful country. Nevertheless, I
shall leave behind me this child who lieth beside me, and his life shall
enlighten that world from which I am withdrawing." Then she said for the
third time, "Sir Bors, art thou there?" And Sir Bors wept, and he said,
"Yea, Lady, I am here."
Then the Lady Elaine said: "Take thou this child and bear him hence unto
a certain place that thou shalt find. Thou shalt know that place because
there shall go before thee a bird with golden plumage, and it shall show
thee where thou art to take this child. Leave the child at that place
whither the bird shall lead thee, and tell no man where that place is.
For this child must hide in secret until the time shall come when he
shall be manifested to the world." And she said, "Hearest thou me, Sir
Bors?" And Sir Bors, still weeping, said, "Yea, Lady."
Then she said: "Go and tarry not in thy going, for the ending is very
near. Wait not until that end cometh, but go immediately and do as I
have asked thee to do."
[Sidenote: _Sir Bors departeth with the young child._]
Then, still weeping, Sir Bors arose from where he kneeled, and he took
the young child and he wrapped it in his cloak and he went out thence
and was gone, taking the babe with him.
And this while Sir Gawaine and Sir Lavaine also wept, and ever Sir
Gawaine still kneeled and Sir Lavaine stood beside him.
Such is the story of the nativity of Sir Galahad, who afterward achieved the Quest
of the Holy Grail as was prophesied in the prophecy of Merlin.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _The passing of Elaine the Fair._]
That same day the Lady Elaine died about the middle watch of the night,
departing from this world in great peace and good content, and Sir
Gawaine and Sir Lavaine were with her at the time of her passing.
Then Sir Gawaine said, weeping, "Let me go and fetch Sir Launcelot of
the Lake hither." But Sir Lavaine, speaking very sternly, said: "Let be
and bring him not, for he is not worthy to be brought hither. But as for
you, do you depart, for I have yet that to do I would do alone. So go
you immediately and return unto the court of the King. But when you have
come to the King's court, I charge you to say nothing unto any one
concerning the birth of the child Galahad, nor of how this sweet, fair
lady is no more, for I have a certain thing to do that I would fain
perform before those things are declared. So when you have come to court
say nothing of these matters of which I have spoken." To the which Sir
Gawaine said, "Messire, it shall be as you desire in all things."
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine departeth from the priory._]
So immediately Sir Gawaine went forth and called for his horse, and they
brought his horse to him and he mounted and departed from that place,
leaving Sir Lavaine alone with his dead.
And it remaineth here to be said that Sir Gawaine went directly from
that place to the court of the King, and when he had come there he told
only of those adventures that had happened to him when the Lady Vivien
had bewitched him. But of those other matters: to wit, of the nativity
of Galahad and of the death of the Lady Elaine, he said naught to any
one but concealed those things for the time being in his own heart.
Yet ever he pondered those things and meditated upon them in the silent
watches of the night. For the thought of those things filled him at once
with joy and with a sort of terror; with hope and with a manner of
despair; wherefore his spirit was troubled because of those things which
he had beheld, for he knew not what their portent might be.
[Illustration: The Barge of the Dead]
[Illustration]
Conclusion
Now after Sir Bors had departed and after Sir Gawaine had departed as
aforesaid--the one at the one time and the other at the other--there
came several of those of the priory to that cell of death. And they
lifted up that still and peaceful figure and bare it away to the chapel
of the priory. And they laid it upon a bier in the chapel and lit
candles around about the bier, and they chanted all night in the chapel
a requiem to the repose of the gentle soul that was gone. And when the
morning light had dawned Sir Lavaine came to that chapel when the
candles were still alight in the dull gray of the early day and he
kneeled for a long time in prayer beside the bier.
Thereafter and when he had ended his prayers, he arose and departed from
that place, and he went to the people of the priory, and he said to
them, "Whither is it that this river floweth?" They say: "It floweth
down from this place past the King's town of Camelot, and thence it
floweth onward until it floweth into the sea to the southward."
[Sidenote: _Sir Lavaine findeth a boat._]
Sir Lavaine said, "Is there ere a boat at this place that may float upon
the river?" And they say to him: "Yea, Messire, there is a barge and
there is a man that saileth that barge and that man is deaf and dumb
from birth." At that Sir Lavaine said: "I pray you to bring me to where
that deaf and dumb bargeman is."
So one of those to whom he spake took him to a certain place where was
that barge, and the deaf and dumb bargeman. And the bargeman was a very
old man with a long beard as white as snow and he gazed very steadfastly
upon Sir Lavaine as he drew near thitherward. So Sir Lavaine came close
to the bargeman and he made signs to him, asking him if he would ferry
him down the stream to the King's town, and the dumb bargeman understood
what Sir Lavaine would have and he made signs in answer that it should
be as Sir Lavaine desired.
[Sidenote: _Sir Lavaine with the dead lady departeth in the barge._]
After that Sir Lavaine gave command that the barge should be hung and
draped all with white samite embroidered with silver and he gave command
that a couch of white samite should be established upon the barge, and
the covering of the couch was also embroidered with silver. So when all
was in readiness there came forth a procession from the chapel, bearing
that still and silent figure, and they brought it to the barge and laid
it upon the couch of white samite that had been prepared for it.
Thereafter Sir Lavaine entered the barge and took his station in the bow
of the boat and the deaf and dumb man took his station in the stern
thereof.
Then the bargeman trimmed the sail and so the barge drew slowly away
from that place, many standing upon the landing-stage and watching its
departure.
[Sidenote: _So they descend the flood._]
And after that the barge floated gently down the smooth stream of the
river, and ever the deaf and dumb man guided it upon its way. And anon
they floated down betwixt banks of rushes, with here and there a row of
pollard willow-trees and thickets of alder. And all about them was the
pleasant weather of the summertime, with everything abloom with grace
and beauty.
Then anon, departing from those marshy stretches with their rushes and
their willows and their alders, they drifted past some open
meadow-lands, with fields and uplands all trembling in the still hot
sunlight. And after that they came to a more populous country where were
several small towns and villages with here and there a stone bridge
crossing the river. And at those places of habitation many came and
stood upon a bridge beneath which they passed, and others stood upon the
smooth and grassy banks of the stream and gazed in awe at that wonderful
barge as it drifted by adown the flood. And they who thus gazed would
whisper and marvel at what they beheld and would cross themselves for
awe and terror.
So ever they floated onward until at last they came to within sight of
the town of Camelot.
After that, in a little they came to the town and as they passed by the
town walls, lo! a great multitude of people came and stood upon the
walls and gazed down upon that white bedraped barge and those who were
within. And all the people whispered to one another in awe, saying:
"What is this and what doth it portend? Is this real or is it a vision
that we behold?"
[Sidenote: _So they come to Camelot._]
But ever that barge drifted onward past the walls and past those who
stood thereon, and so, at last, it came to a landing-place of stone
steps not far distant from the castle of the King. There the dumb
bargeman made fast the barge to the iron rings of the landing-stage, and
so that strange voyage was ended.
Now at that time King Arthur and many of the lords and some of the
ladies of his court sat at feast in the royal hall of the castle, and
amongst those was Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. So as they sat
thus, there came one of a sudden running into the hall as in affright,
and thereat all looked upon him and wondered wherefore he came into the
hall in that way. Then King Arthur said, "What ails thee that thou
comest hither to us thus?"
[Sidenote: _King Arthur heareth news of the barge._]
Then he who came kneeled before King Arthur, and he said: "Lord, here is
a wonderful thing. For down by the river there hath come a barge to the
landing-stairs of the castle, and that barge is hung all with white
samite embroidered with silver. And in the barge and upon a couch of
white samite there lieth a dead lady so beautiful that I do not think
her like is to be found in all of the earth. And a dumb man sits in the
stern of the boat, and a noble young knight sits in the bow of the boat
with his face shrouded in his mantle as though for grief. And that
knight sits there as silent and as motionless as the dead lady, and the
dumb man sits there also, like to an image of a man rather than a man of
flesh and blood. Wherefore it is that I have come hither to bring you
word of this wonderful thing."
Then King Arthur said: "This is indeed a most singular story that thou
tellest us. Now let us all straightway go and see what this portendeth."
So the King arose from where he sat, and he descended therefrom, and he
went forth out of the hall, and all who were there went with him.
[Sidenote: _King Arthur and his court go to where is the barge._]
Now first of all there went King Arthur, and among those who were last
there went Sir Launcelot of the Lake. For when he had heard of that dead
lady he bethought him of the Lady Elaine and of how she was even then in
tender health, wherefore he repented him with great bitterness of heart
that he was not with her at that time instead of lingering at court as
he did. And he said to himself: "Suppose that she should die like to
this dead lady in the barge--what would I do if that should have
happened unto me?" So it was that his feet lagged because of his heavy
thoughts, and so it was that he was near the last who came to the
riverside where was that barge as aforesaid.
Now, there were many of the towns folk standing there, but upon King
Arthur's coming all those made way for him, and so he came and stood
upon the upper step of the landing-stairs and looked down into the boat.
And he beheld that figure that was lying there and knew it that it was
the Lady Elaine who lay there dead.
Then the King looked for a little upon that dead figure as it were in a
sort of terror, and then he said, "Where is Sir Launcelot?"
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot beholdeth the dead._]
Now when the King so spake, they who stood there made way, and Sir
Launcelot came through the press and stood also at the head of the
stairs and looked down into the barge. Then of a sudden--as it were in
an instant of time--he beheld with his very eyes that thing which he had
been thinking of anon; for there before him and beneath him lay in very
truth the dead image of that dear lady of whom he had been thinking only
a moment before.
Then it was as though Sir Launcelot had suddenly been struck with a
shaft of death, for he neither moved nor stirred. Nay, it was not to be
perceived that he even so much as breathed. But ever he stood there
gazing down into that boat as though he had forgotten for that while
that there was anybody else in all of the world saving only himself and
that dead lady. And many of those who were there looked upon the face of
Sir Launcelot, and they beheld that his countenance was altogether as
white as the face of that dead figure who lay in the barge beneath them.
[Sidenote: _Sir Lavaine accuseth Sir Launcelot._]
Then a great hush of silence fell over all and every voice was stilled,
and at that hush of silence Sir Lavaine lifted the hood from his face
and looked up from where he sat in the boat at the feet of the dead
lady, and so beheld Sir Launcelot where he stood. Then upon the instant
Sir Lavaine stood up in the barge and he cried out in a great loud harsh
voice: "Hah! art thou there, thou traitor knight? Behold the work that
thou hast done; for this that thou beholdest is thy handiwork. Thou hast
betrayed this lady's love for the love of another, and so thou hast
brought her to her death!"
So said Sir Lavaine before all those who were there, but it was as
though Sir Launcelot heard him not, for ever he stood as though he were
a dead man and not a living man of flesh and blood. Then of a sudden he
awoke, as it were, to life, and he clasped the back of his hands across
his eyes, and cried out in a voice as though that voice tore his heart
asunder, "Remorse! Remorse! Remorse!" saying those words three times
over in that wise.
Then he shut his lips tight as though to say no more, and thereupon
turned and went away from that place.
[Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot departeth._]
And he turned neither to this side nor to that, but went straight to the
castle of the King, and there ordered that his horse should be brought
forth to him upon the instant. So when his horse was brought he mounted
it and rode away; and he bade farewell to no one, and no one was there
when he thus departed.
So for a long while Sir Launcelot rode he knew not whither, but after a
while he found himself in the forest not far away from the cell of the
hermit of the forest. And he beheld the hermit of the forest, that he
stood in an open plat of grass in front of his cell and that he was
feeding the wild birds of the woodland; for the little feathered
creatures were gathered in great multitudes about him, some resting upon
his head and some upon his shoulders and some upon his hands. And a wild
doe and a fawn of the forest browsed near by and all was full of peace
and good content.
But at the coming of Sir Launcelot, all those wild creatures took alarm;
the birds they flew chirping away, and the doe and the fawn they fled
away into the thickets of the forest. For they wist, by some instinct,
that a man of sin and sorrow was coming thitherward; wherefore they were
afeared and fled away in that wise.
But Sir Launcelot thought nothing of this, but leaped from his horse,
and ran to the hermit and flung himself down upon the ground before him
and embraced him about the feet. And the hermit was greatly astonished
and said, "What ails thee, Sir Launcelot?" Whereunto Sir Launcelot cried
out: "Woe is me! Woe is me! I have sinned very grievously and have been
grievously punished and now my heart is broken!"
Then the hermit perceived that some great misfortune had befallen Sir
Launcelot, wherefore he lifted Sir Launcelot to his feet and after that
he brought him into his cell. And after they were in the cell together,
he said: "Now tell me what ails thee, Sir Launcelot. For I believe that
in telling me thou shalt find a great deal of ease."
So Sir Launcelot confessed everything to the hermit--yea, everything to
the very bottom of his soul, and the good, holy man hearkened to him.
Then after Sir Launcelot had said all that lay upon his heart, the
hermit sat for a while in silence, communing with his spirit. And after
a while he said: "Messire, God telleth me that if thy sin hath been
grievous, so also hath thy punishment been full sore. Wherefore
meseemeth I speak what God would have me say when I tell thee that
though neither thou nor any man may undo that which is done, nor
recommit that which is committed, yet there is this which thou or any
man mayest do. Thou mayst bathe thy soul in repentance as in a bath of
clear water (for repentance is not remorse but something very different
from remorse), and that having so bathed thyself thou mayst clothe
thyself as in a fresh raiment of new resolve. So bathed and so clad,
thou mayst stand once more upon thy feet and mayst look up to God and
say: 'Lo, God! I am Thy handiwork. I have sinned and have done great
evil, yet I am still Thy handiwork, who hath made me what I am. So,
though I may not undo that which I have done, yet I may, with Thy aid,
do better hereafter than I have done heretofore.'
"For every man may sin, and yet again may sin; yet still is he God's
handiwork, and still God is near by His handiwork to aid him ever to a
fresh endeavor to righteousness.
"So, though thou hast sinned, thou art still the creation of God and may
yet do His will in the world who hath sent thee hither."
Then Sir Launcelot wept, and he said, "There is much comfort in thy
words."
After that he abode for three days in the cell of the hermit and at the
end of that time he went forth again into the world, a broken yet a
contrite man, and one full of a strong resolve to make good the life
that God thenceforth intended him to live.
So by and by you shall hear of further adventures that befell him; yet
not at this place.
So it was with Sir Launcelot, and now it only remaineth to be said that,
after his departure from the King's court as aforesaid, they brought the
dead figure of the Lady Elaine to the minster at Camelot and there high
mass was said for the peace of her pure and gentle soul. So for two days
(what time Sir Launcelot was bathing himself in the waters of repentance
as aforetold) that figure lay in state in the minster and with many
candles burning about it, and then it was buried in the minster and a
monument of marble was erected to the memory of that kind and loving
spirit that had gone.
* * * * *
So endeth the history of the Nativity of Galahad and so therewith this
book also cometh to an end.
Yet after a while, if God giveth me life to finish that work which I
have undertaken in writing these histories (and I pray He may give me to
finish that and several other things), then I shall tell you many things
more than these. For I shall tell you how Sir Launcelot came back again
into the world, and I shall tell you of the history of the Quest of the
Grail, and I shall tell you of other knights who came in later days to
make the court of King Arthur even more glorious than it was before.
Already two histories have been written concerning these things and this
makes the third, and another, I believe, will complete that work which I
have assigned myself to do; wherefore, as was said, I pray that God may
grant that I shall be able to finish that fourth book and so end my work
that I have here undertaken. Amen.
THE END
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation has been standardised.
Spelling inconsistencies occur throughout this text.
Page 11, "Befel" changed to "Befell" (What Befell him)
Page 32, "ne'ertheless" changed to "ne'theless" (ne'theless, I cannot
find)
Page 36, "shie d" changed to "shield" (bare that shield.)
Page 78, "Lynnette" changed to "Lynette" (Lynette telleth Sir)
Page 84, "Grandregarde" changed to "Grandregard" (hight Granderegard)
Page 98, "Axaltalese" changed to "Axatalese" (Gringamore said to
Axatalese)
Page 98, "Layonesse" changed to "Layonnesse" (Layonnesse and the damsel)
Page 99, "Layonesse" changed to "Layonnesse" (my sister, the Lady
Layonnesse)
Page 101, "the" changed to "then" (even then upon her way)
Page 102, "Geharis" changed to "Gaheris" (Sir Gaheris wondered)
Page 139, "Palamedes" changed to "Palamydes" (meeting Sir Palamydes)
Page 151, "thust" changed to "thrust" (thrust into her bosom)
Page 153, "Chavelier" changed to "Chevalier" (in which le Chevalier)
Page 176, "Adred" changed to "adread" (The lady is adread)
Page 181, "than" changed to "that" (that the other was)
Page 195, "knowst" changed to "knowest" (How knowest thou)
Page 214, "travered" changed to "traversed" (had traversed various)
Page 275, "Percivant" changed to "Percevant" (captive was Sir Percevant)
Page 282, "Le" changed to "le" (hight, le Chevalier)
Page 297, "Ne'ertheless" changed to "Ne'theless" (Ne'theless, now that)