SIR LAUNCELOT'S REPENTANCE
When Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of Maidens, he rode till
he came to a waste forest, and there he met with Sir Launcelot and Sir
Percivale, but they knew him not, for he was new disguised. Right so,
Sir Launcelot dressed his spear, and brake it upon Sir Galahad; and Sir
Galahad smote him so again, that he smote down horse and man. Then he
drew his sword, and dressed him unto Sir Percivale, and smote him so on
the helm that, had not the sword swerved, Sir Percivale had been slain,
and with the stroke he fell out of his saddle.
This joust was done tofore the hermitage where a recluse dwelt, and,
when she saw Sir Galahad ride, she said, "God be with thee, best knight
of the world. Ah, verily, if yonder two knights had known thee as well
as I do, they would not have encountered with thee."
When Sir Galahad heard her say so, he was sore adread to be known.
Therefore he smote his horse with his spurs, and rode at a great pace
away from them. Then perceived they both that he was Galahad, and up
they gat on their horses, and rode fast after him, but in a while he
was out of their sight. Then they turned again with heavy cheer, and
Sir Percivale said, "Let us ask some tidings at yonder recluse."
"Do as ye list," said Sir Launcelot. So Sir Percivale turned back, but
Sir Launcelot rode on across and endlong in a wild forest, and held no
path, but as wild adventure led him. At last he came to a stone cross,
which pointed two ways, and by the cross was a stone that was of
marble; but it was so dark that he might not wit what it was.
Sir Launcelot looked about him, and saw an old chapel. There he
expected to find people, so he tied his horse, and took off his shield
and hung it upon a tree. Then he went to the chapel door, and found it
waste and broken. Within he saw a fair altar full richly arrayed with
cloth of clean silk, and there stood a fair clean candlestick of silver
which bare six great candles.
When Sir Launcelot saw this light, he had great will to enter into the
chapel, but he could find no place where he might enter. Then was he
passing heavy and dismayed. He returned to his horse, took off his
saddle and bridle, and let him pasture. Then he unlaced his helm, and
ungirded his sword, and laid himself down to sleep upon his shield
tofore the cross.
[Illustration: Sir Launcelot at the Cross]
So he fell on sleep, and half waking and half sleeping he saw in a
vision two fair white palfreys come toward him, bearing in a litter a
sick knight. When he was nigh the cross he abode still, and Sir
Launcelot heard him say, "Oh, sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow leave
me? and when shall the holy vessel come by me, wherethrough I shall be
blessed? For I have endured thus long for little trespass."
A full great while lamented the knight thus, and always Sir Launcelot
heard it. Then he saw the candlestick with the six tapers come before
the cross, yet he saw nobody that brought it. Also there came a table
of silver, and the sacred vessel of the Holy Grail upon it.
Therewith the sick knight sat up, and, holding up both hands, he prayed
that he might be whole of his malady. Then on his hands and knees he
went so nigh that he touched the holy vessel, and kissed it, and anon
he was whole. Then he said, "Lord God, I thank thee, for I am healed
of this sickness."
When the holy vessel had been there a great while, it went unto the
chapel, with the candlestick and the light, so that Launcelot wist not
what became of it, for he was overtaken with a feeling of his sin, so
that he had no power to arise and follow the holy vessel.
Then the sick knight raised himself up, and kissed the cross. Anon his
squire brought him his arms, and asked his lord how he did. "Verily,"
said he, "I thank God, right well; through the holy vessel I am healed.
But I have great marvel of this sleeping knight, that had no power to
awake when the Holy Grail was brought hither."
"I dare right well say," said the squire, "that he dwelleth in some
deadly sin, whereof he has never repented."
"By my faith," said the knight, "whatsoever he be, he is unhappy, for,
as I deem, he is of the fellowship of the Round Table, the which is
entered into the quest of the Holy Grail."
"Sir," said the squire, "here I have brought you all your arms, save
your helm and your sword. By my assent now may ye take this knight's
helm and his sword."
So he did, and when he was clean armed, he took Sir Launcelot's horse,
for he was better than his own, and so they departed from the cross.
Anon Sir Launcelot awoke, and bethought him what he had seen there, and
whether it were a dream or not. Right so heard he a voice that said:
"Sir Launcelot, more hard than is stone, more bitter than is wood, and
more naked and barer than is the fig tree, go thou from hence, and
withdraw thee from this holy place."
When Sir Launcelot heard this he was passing heavy, and wist not what
to do. So he arose, sore weeping, and cursed the time when he was
born, for he thought never to have honour more. Then he went to the
cross, and found his helm, his sword, and his horse taken away. Then
he called himself a very wretch, and the most unhappy of all knights.
And he said: "My sin and my wickedness have brought me unto great
dishonour. When I sought worldly adventures from worldly desires, I
ever achieved them, and had the better in every place, and never was I
discomfited in any quarrel, were it right or wrong. But now when I
take upon me the adventures of holy things, I see and understand that
mine old sin hindereth and shameth me, so that I had no power to stir
or to speak when the Holy Grail appeared afore me."
Thus he sorrowed till it was day, and he heard the birds sing. Then
somewhat he was comforted, but, when he missed his horse and his
harness, he wist well God was displeased with him. He departed from
the cross on foot into a forest, and came to a hermitage, and a hermit
therein. There Launcelot kneeled down and cried on the Lord for mercy,
and begged the hermit for charity to hear his confession.
"With a good will," said the good man; "art thou of King Arthur's
court, and of the fellowship of the Round Table?"
"Yea, forsooth," was the answer, "and my name is Sir Launcelot of the
Lake, that hath been right well said of; but now my good fortune is
changed, for I am the worst wretch of the world."
The hermit beheld him, and had marvel how he was humbled.
"Sir," said he, "thou oughtest to thank God more than any knight
living, for He hath caused thee to have more worldly honour than any
other knight that now liveth. For thy presumption in taking upon thee,
while in deadly sin, to be in His presence through the sacred vessel,
that was the cause that thou mightest not see it with worldly eyes, for
He will not appear where such sinners be, unless to their great hurt
and shame. There is no knight living now that ought to give God so
great thanks as thou; for He hath given thee beauty, seemliness, and
great strength, above all other knights. Therefore thou art the more
beholden unto God than any other man to love Him and fear Him; for thy
strength and manhood will little avail thee if God be against thee."
Then Sir Launcelot wept with heavy cheer, for he knew the hermit said
sooth.
"Sir," said the good man, "hide none old sin from me."
"Truly," said Sir Launcelot, "that were me full loath to disclose, for
one thing that I have done I never disclosed these fourteen years, and
for that may I now blame my shamelessness and my misadventure."
Then he told there that good man all his life, and how he had loved a
queen unmeasurably, and out of measure long. "And," said he, "all my
great deeds of arms that I have done, I did the most part for that
queen's sake. For her sake would I battle, were it right or wrong; and
never did I battle wholly for God's sake, but for to win honour and to
make myself better beloved, and little or naught I thanked God for it.
I pray you counsel me."
"I will counsel thee," said the hermit, "if thou wilt assure me that
thou wilt never come into that queen's companionship when thou canst
prevent it." This Sir Launcelot solemnly promised, whereupon the good
man said, "Look that thy heart and mouth accord, and I assure thee that
thou shalt have more honour than ever thou hadst. For it seemeth well
God loveth thee, and in all the world men shall not find one knight to
whom He hath given so much grace as He hath given thee; He hath given
thee beauty with seemliness; He hath given thee wit, discretion to know
good from evil; He hath given thee prowess and hardiness; and He hath
given thee to work so largely that thou hast had at all times the
better wheresoever thou camest. And now our Lord will suffer thee no
longer, but that thou shalt know Him, whether thou wilt or nilt.
"Why the voice called thee bitterer than wood was because, where
overmuch sin dwelleth, there may be but little sweetness; wherefore
thou art likened to an old rotten tree. Why thou art harder than stone
is because thou wilt not leave thy sin for any goodness that God hath
sent thee; therefore thou art more than any stone, and never wouldest
thou be made soft, neither by water nor by fire,--that is, the heat of
the Holy Ghost may not enter in thee.
"Now shall I show thee why thou art more naked and barer than the fig
tree. It befell that our Lord on Palm Sunday preached in Jerusalem,
and there He found in the people that all hardness was harboured in
them, and there He found in all the town not one that would harbour
Him. And then He went without the town, and found in the midst of the
way a fig tree, the which was right fair and well garnished of leaves,
but fruit had it none. Then our Lord cursed the tree that bare no
fruit; that likeneth the fig tree unto Jerusalem, that had leaves and
no fruit. So thou, Sir Launcelot, when the Holy Grail was brought
afore thee, He found in thee no fruit, nor good thought, nor good will,
and thou wert befouled with sin."
"Verily," said Sir Launcelot, "all that ye have said is true, and from
henceforward I undertake by the grace of God never to be so wicked as I
have been, but to follow knighthood and to do feats of arms."
Then the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot to such penance as he might
do, and to sue knighthood, and so blessed him, and prayed him to abide
there all that day. "I will well," said Sir Launcelot, "for I have
neither helm, nor horse, nor sword."
"As for that," said the good man, "I shall help you ere to-morn to a
horse and all that belongeth unto you." And so Sir Launcelot repented
him greatly.