Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table 8

Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table 8

As they sat dumb, for their tongues felt as if they could speak nothing, there floated in

the hall the Holy Graal, and over it a veil of white samite, so that

none might see it nor who bare it. But sweet odours filled the place,

and every Knight had set before him the food he loved best; and after

that the Holy Vessel departed suddenly, they wist not where. When it had

gone their tongues were loosened, and the King gave thanks for the

wonders that they had been permitted to see. After that he had finished,

Sir Gawaine stood up and vowed to depart the next morning in quest of

the Holy Graal, and not to return until he had seen it. "But if after a

year and a day I may not speed in my quest," said he, "I shall come

again, for I shall know that the sight of it is not for me." And many of

the Knights there sitting swore a like vow.

 

But King Arthur, when he heard this, was sore displeased. "Alas!" cried

he unto Sir Gawaine, "you have undone me by your vow. For through you is

broken up the fairest fellowship, and the truest of knighthood, that

ever the world saw, and when they have once departed they shall meet no

more at the Table Round, for many shall die in the quest. It grieves me

sore, for I have loved them as well as my own life." So he spoke, and

paused, and tears came into his eyes. "Ah, Gawaine, Gawaine! you have

set me in great sorrow."

 

"Comfort yourself," said Sir Lancelot, "for we shall win for ourselves

great honour, much more if we die in this wise than in any other, since

die we must." But the King would not be comforted, and the Queen and all

the Court were troubled also for the love which they bore these Knights.

Now among the company sat a young Knight whose name was Galahad. He had

already achieved fame by his deeds in the field and tourney, and the

Queen marvelled at the likeness he bore to Sir Lancelot. She asked him

whence he came, and of what country, and if he was son to Sir Lancelot.

And King Arthur did him great honour, and he rested him in his own bed.

And next morning the King and Queen went into the Minster, and the

Knights followed them, dressed all in armour, save only their shields

and their helmets. When the service was finished the King would know how

many of the fellowship had sworn to undertake the quest of the Graal,

and they were counted, and found to number a hundred and fifty. They

bade farewell, and mounted their horses, and rode through the streets of

Camelot, and there was weeping of both rich and poor, and the King could

not speak for weeping. And at sunrise they all parted company with each

other, and every Knight took the way he best liked.

 

 

III.

The Adventure of Sir Galahad.

 

Now Sir Galahad had as yet no shield, and he rode four days without

meeting any adventure, till at last he came to a White Abbey, where he

dismounted and asked if he might sleep there that night. The brethren

received him with great reverence, and led him to a chamber, where he

took off his armour, and then saw that he was in the presence of two

Knights. "Sirs," said Sir Galahad, "what adventure brought you hither?"

"Sir," replied they, "we heard that within this Abbey is a shield that

no man may hang round his neck without being dead within three days, or

some mischief befalling him. And if we fail in the adventure, you shall

take it upon you." "Sirs," replied Sir Galahad, "I agree well thereto,

for as yet I have no shield."

 

So on the morn they arose and heard Mass, and then a monk led them

behind an altar where hung a shield white as snow, with a red cross in

the middle of it. "Sirs," said the monk, "this shield can be hung round

no Knight's neck, unless he be the worthiest Knight in the world, and

therefore I counsel you to be well advised."

 

"Well," answered one of the Knights, whose name was King Bagdemagus, "I

know truly that I am not the best Knight in the world, but yet shall I

try to bear it," and he bore it out of the Abbey. Then he said to Sir

Galahad, "I pray you abide here still, till you know how I shall speed,"

and he rode away, taking with him a squire to send tidings back to Sir

Galahad.

 

After King Bagdemagus had ridden two miles he entered a fair valley, and

there met him a goodly Knight seated on a white horse and clad in white

armour. And they came together with their spears, and Sir Bagdemagus was

borne from his horse, for the shield covered him not at all. Therewith

the strange Knight alighted and took the white shield from him, and gave

it to the squire, saying, "Bear this shield to the good Knight Sir

Galahad that thou hast left in the Abbey, and greet him well from me."

 

"Sir," said the squire, "what is your name?"

 

"Take thou no heed of my name," answered the Knight, "for it is not for

thee to know, nor for any earthly man."

 

"Now, fair Sir," said the squire, "tell me for what cause this shield

may not be borne lest ill befalls him who bears it."

 

"Since you have asked me," answered the Knight, "know that no man shall

bear this shield, save Sir Galahad only."

 

Then the squire turned to Bagdemagus, and asked him whether he were

wounded or not. "Yes, truly," said he, "and I shall hardly escape from

death;" and scarcely could he climb on to his horse's back when the

squire brought it near him. But the squire led him to a monastery that

lay in the valley, and there he was treated of his wounds, and after

long lying came back to life. After the squire had given the Knight into

the care of the monks, he rode back to the Abbey, bearing with him the

shield. "Sir Galahad," said he, alighting before him, "the Knight that

wounded Bagdemagus sends you greeting, and bids you bear this shield,

which shall bring you many adventures."

 

"Now blessed be God and fortune," answered Sir Galahad, and called for

his arms, and mounted his horse, hanging the shield about his neck.

Then, followed by the squire, he set out. They rode straight to the

hermitage, where they saw the White Knight who had sent the shield to

Sir Galahad. The two Knights saluted each other courteously, and then

the White Knight told Sir Galahad the story of the shield, and how it

had been given into his charge. Afterwards they parted, and Sir Galahad

and his squire returned unto the Abbey whence they came.

 

The monks made great joy at seeing Sir Galahad again, for they feared he

was gone for ever; and as soon as he was alighted from his horse they

brought him unto a tomb in the churchyard where there was night and day

such a noise that any man who heard it would be driven nigh mad, or else

lose his strength. "Sir," they said, "we deem it a fiend." Sir Galahad

drew near, all armed save his helmet, and stood by the tomb. "Lift up

the stone," said a monk, and Galahad lifted it, and a voice cried, "Come

thou not nigh me, Sir Galahad, for thou shalt make me go again where I

have been so long." But Galahad took no heed of him, and lifted the

stone yet higher, and there rushed from the tomb a foul smoke, and in

the midst of it leaped out the foulest figure that ever was seen in the

likeness of a man. "Galahad," said the figure, "I see about thee so many

angels that my power dare not touch thee." Then Galahad, stooping down,

looked into the tomb, and he saw a body all armed lying there, with a

sword by his side. "Fair brother," said Galahad, "let us remove this

body, for he is not worthy to be in this churchyard, being a false

Christian man."

 

[Illustration: SIR GALAHAD opens the tomb]

 

This being done they all departed and returned unto the monastery, where

they lay that night, and the next morning Sir Galahad knighted Melias

his squire, as he had promised him aforetime. So Sir Galahad and Sir

Melias departed thence, in quest of the Holy Graal, but they soon went

their different ways and fell upon different adventures. In his first

encounter Sir Melias was sore wounded, and Sir Galahad came to his help,

and left him to an old monk who said that he would heal him of his

wounds in the space of seven weeks, and that he was thus wounded because

he had not come clean to the quest of the Graal, as Sir Galahad had

done. Sir Galahad left him there, and rode on till he came to the Castle

of Maidens, which he alone might enter who was free from sin. There he

chased away the Knights who had seized the castle seven years agone, and

restored all to the Duke's daughter, who owned it of right. Besides this

he set free the maidens who were kept in prison, and summoned all those

Knights in the country round who had held their lands of the Duke,

bidding them do homage to his daughter. And in the morning one came to

him and told him that as the seven Knights fled from the Castle of

Maidens they fell upon the path of Sir Gawaine, Sir Gareth, and Sir

Lewaine, who were seeking Sir Galahad, and they gave battle: and the

seven Knights were slain by the three Knights. "It is well," said

Galahad, and he took his armour and his horse and rode away.

 

So when Sir Galahad left the Castle of Maidens he rode till he came to a

waste forest, and there he met with Sir Lancelot and Sir Percivale; but

they knew him not, for he was now disguised. And they fought together,

and the two knights were smitten down out of the saddle. "God be with

thee, thou best Knight in the world," cried a nun who dwelt in a

hermitage close by; and she said it in a loud voice, so that Lancelot

and Percivale might hear. But Sir Galahad feared that she would make

known who he was, so he spurred his horse and struck deep into the

forest before Sir Lancelot and Sir Percivale could mount again. They

knew not which path he had taken, so Sir Percivale turned back to ask

advice of the nun, and Sir Lancelot pressed forward.

 

 

IV.

How Sir Lancelot saw a Vision, and repented of his Sins.

 

He halted when he came to a stone cross, which had by it a block of

marble, while nigh at hand stood an old chapel. He tied his horse to a

tree, and hung his shield on a branch, and looked into the chapel, for

the door was waste and broken. And he saw there a fair altar covered

with a silken cloth, and a candlestick which had six branches, all of

shining silver. A great light streamed from it, and at this sight Sir

Lancelot would fain have entered in, but he could not. So he turned back

sorrowful and dismayed, and took the saddle and bridle off his horse,

and let him pasture where he would, while he himself unlaced his helm,

and ungirded his sword, and lay down to sleep upon his shield, at the

foot of the cross.

 

As he lay there, half waking and half sleeping, he saw two white

palfreys come by, drawing a litter, wherein lay a sick Knight. When they

reached the cross they paused, and Sir Lancelot heard the Knight say, "O

sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me, and when shall the Holy

Vessel come by me through which I shall be blessed? For I have endured

long, though my ill deeds were few." Thus he spoke, and Sir Lancelot

heard it, and of a sudden the great candlestick stood before the cross,