‘Sir,’ seyde sir Kay the Stywarde, ‘if ye go now unto youre mete ye shall breke youre olde custom of youre courte, for ye have nat used on thys day to sytte at your mete or that ye have sene some adventure.’
‘Ye sey sothe,’ seyde the kynge, ‘but I had so grete joy of sir Launcelot and of hys cosynes whych bene com to the courte hole and sounde, that I bethought me nat of none olde custom.’
So as they stood spekynge, in com a squyre that seyde unto the kynge, ‘Sir, I brynge unto you mervaylous tydynges.’
‘What be they?’ seyde the kynge.
‘Sir, there ys here bynethe at the ryver a grete stone whych I saw fleete abovyn the watir, and therein I saw stykynge a swerde.’ Than the kynge seyde, ‘I woll se that mervayle.’
So all the knyghtes wente with hym. And whan they cam unto the ryver they founde there a stone fletynge, as hit were of rede marbyll, and therein stake a fayre ryche swerde, and the pomell thereof was of precious stonys wrought with lettirs of golde subtylé. Than the barownes redde the lettirs whych seyde in thys wyse:
‘NEVER SHALL MAN TAKE ME HENSE BUT ONLY HE BY WHOS
SYDE I OUGHT TO HONGE AND HE SHALL BE THE BESTE KNYGHT OF THE WORLDE.’
So whan the kynge had sene the lettirs he seyde unto sir Launcelot, ‘Fayre sir, thys swerde ought to be youres, for I am sure ye be the beste knyght of the worlde.’
Than sir Launcelot answerde full sobirly, ‘Sir, that ys nat my swerde; also, I have no hardines to sette my honde thereto, for hit longith nat to hange be my syde. Also, who that assayth to take hit and faylith of that swerde, he shall resseyve a wounde by that swerde that he shall nat be longe hole afftir. And I woll that ye weyte that thys same day shall the adventure of the Sankgreall begynne, that ys called the holy vessell.’
‘Now, fayre nevew,’ seyde the kynge unto sir Gawayne, ‘assay ye [3] for my love.’
‘Sir,’ he seyde, ‘sauff youre good grace, I shall nat do that.’
‘Sir,’ seyde the kynge, ‘assay to take the swerde for my love and at my commaundemente.’
‘Sir, youre commaundemente I woll obey.’
And therewith he toke the swerde by the handyle, but he myght nat stirre hit.
‘I thanke you,’ seyde the kynge.
‘My lorde sir Gawayne,’ seyde sir Launcelot, now wete you well thys swerde shall touche you so sore that ye wolde nat ye had sette youre honde thereto for the beste castell of thys realme.’
‘Sir,’ he seyde, ‘I myght nat withsey myne unclis wyll.’
But whan the kynge herde thys he repented hit much and seyde unto sir Percyvall, ‘Sir, woll ye assay for my love?’
And he assayed gladly for to beare sir Gawayne felyship, and therewith he sette to hys honde on the swerde and drew at hit strangely, but he myght nat meve hytte. Than were there no me that durste be so hardy to sette their hondis thereto.
‘Now may ye go to youre dyner,’ seyde sir Kay unto the kynge, ‘for a mervalous adventure have ye sene.’
So the kynge and all they wente unto the courte, and every knyght knew hys owne place and sette hym therein. And yonge men that were good knyghtes served them. So whan they were served and all syegis fulfylled sauff only the Syege Perelous, anone there befelle a mervaylous adventure: that all the doorys and wyndowes of the paleyse shutte by themselff. Natforthan the halle was nat gretly durked, and therewith they abaysshed bothe one and other. Than kynge Arthure spake fyrste and seyde, ‘Be God, fayre felowis and lordis, we have sene this day mervayles! But or nyght I suppose we shall se gretter mervayles.’
In the meanewhyle com in a good olde man and an awnciente, clothed all in whyght, and there was no knyght knew from whens he com. And with hym he brought a yonge knyght, and bothe on foote, in rede armys, withoute swerde other shylde sauff a scawberd hangynge by hys syde. And thes wordys he seyde:
‘Pees be with you, fayre lordys!’
Than the olde man seyde unto kynge Arthure, ‘Sir, I brynge you here a yonge knyght the whych ys of kynges lynage and of the kynrede of Joseph of Aramathy, whereby the mervayles of this courte and of stronge realmys shall be fully complevysshed.’
[4] The kynge was ryght glad of hys wordys and seyde unto the good man, ‘Sir, ye be ryght wellcom, and the yonge knyght with you.’
Than the olde man made the yonge man to unarme hym. And he was in a cote of rede sendell, and bare a mantell uppon hys sholder that was furred with ermyne, and put that uppon hym. And the olde knyght seyde unto the yonge knyght, ‘Sir, swith me.’
And anone he lad hym to the Syege Perelous where besyde sate sir Launcelot, and the good man lyffte up the clothe and founde there the lettirs that seyde thus:
‘THYS YS THE SYEGE OF SIR GALAHAD THE HAWTE PRYNCE.’
‘Sir,’ seyde the olde knyght, ‘weyte you well that place ys youres.’
And than he sette hym downe surely in that syge, and than he seyde unto the olde man, ‘Now may ye, sir, go youre way, for well have ye done in that that ye were commaunded. And recommaunde me unto my grauntesyre, kynge Pelles, and unto my lorde kynge Pecchere, and sey hem on my behalff I shall com and se hem as sone as ever y may.’
So the good man departed. And there mette hym twenty noble squyers, and so toke their horsys and wente their wey.
Than all the knyghtes of the Table Rounde mervayled gretly of sir Galahad that he durst sitte there and was so tendir of ayge, and wyste nat from whens he com but all only be God. All they seyde, ‘Thys ys he by whom the Sankgreall shall be encheved, for there sate never none but he there but he were myscheved.’
Than sir Launcelot behylde hys sonne and had grete joy of hym. Than sir Bors tolde hys felowis, ‘Uppon payne of my lyff thys yonge knyght shall com to grete worship!’
So thys noyse was grete in all the courte, that hit cam unto the quene. And she had mervayle what knyght hit myght e be that durste adventure hym to sytte in that Sege Perelous.
Than som seyde he resembled much unto sir Launcelot.
‘I may well suppose,’ seyde the quene, ‘that sir Launcelot begate hym on kynge Pelles doughter, whych made hym to lye by her by enchauntemente, and hys name ys Galahad. I wolde fayne se hym,’ seyde the quene, ‘for he muste nedys be a noble man, for so hys fadir ys that hym begate: I reporte me unto all the Table Rounde.’
So whan the mete was done, that the kynge and all were rysen, the kyng yode to the Sege Perelous and lyfft up the clothe and founde there the name of sir Galahad. And than he shewed hit unto sir Gawayne and seyde, ‘Fayre nevew, now have we amonge us sir Galahad, the good knyght that shall worship us all. And uppon payne of my lyff he shall encheve the Sankgreall, ryght as sir Launcelot had done us to undirstonde.’ Than cam kynge Arthure unto sir Galahad and seyde, ‘Sir, ye be ryght wellcom, for ye shall meve many good knyghtes to the queste of the Sankgreall, and ye shall enchyve that many other knyghtes myght never brynge to an ende.’
Than the kynge toke hym by the honde and wente downe frome [5] the paleyes to shew Galahad the adventures of the stone. Than the quene harde thereof and cam aftir with many ladyes, and so they shewed her the stone where hit hoved on the watir.
‘Sir,’ seyde the kynge unto sir Galahad, ‘here ys a grete mervayle as ever y sawe, and ryght good knyghtes have assayde and fayled.”Sir,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘hit ys no mervayle, for thys adventure ys nat theyrs but myne. And for the sûreté of thys swerde I brought none with me, but here by my syde hangith the scawberte.’
And anone he leyde hys honde on the swerde, and lyghtly drew hit oute of the stone, and put hit in the sheethe, and seyde unto the kynge, ‘Now hit goth better than hit dyd aforehand.’Sir,’ seyde the kynge, ‘a shylde God may sende you.’
‘Now have I the swerde that somtyme was the good knyghtes Balyns le Saveaige, and he was a passynge good knyght of hys hondys; and with thys swerde he slew hys brothir Balan, and that was grete pité, for he was a good knyght. And eythir slew othir thorow a dolerous stroke that Balyn gaff unto kynge Pelles, the whych ys nat yett hole, nor naught shall be tyll that I
hele hym.’
So therewith the kynge and all aspyed com rydynge downe the ryver a lady on a whyght palferey a grete paace towarde them. Than she salewed the kynge and the quene and asked if that sir Launcelot were there, and than he answerd hymselff and seyde, ‘I am here, my fayre lady!’
Than she seyde all with wepynge there, ‘A, sir Launcelot! How youre grete doynge ys chonged sytthyn thys day in the morne!’
‘Damesell, why sey ye so?’
‘Sir, I say you sothe,’ seyde the damesell, ‘for ye were thys day in the morne the best knyght of the worlde. But who sholde sey so now, he sholde be a Iyer, for there ys now one bettir than ye be, and well hit ys preved by the adventure of the swerde whereto ye durst nat sette to your honde. And that ys the change of youre name and levynge. Wherefore I make unto you a remembraunce that ye shall nat wene frome hensforthe that ye be the best knyght of the worlde.’
‘As towchyng unto that,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘I know well I was never none of the beste.’
‘Yes,’ seyde the damesell, ‘that were ye, and ar yet, of ony synfull man of the worlde. And, sir kynge, Nacien the eremeyte sendeth the worde that the shall befalle the grettyst worship that ever befelle kynge in Bretayne, and I sey yo “wherefore: for thys day the Sankegreall appered in thy house and fedde the and all thy felyship of the Rounde Table.’
So she departed and wente the same way that she cam.
‘Now,’ seyde the kynge, ‘I am sure at this quest of the Sankegreall [6] shall all ye of the Rownde Table departe, and nevyr shall I se you agayne hole togydirs, therefore ones shall I se you togydir in the medow, all hole togydirs! Therefore I wol se you all hole togydir in the medow of Camelot, to juste and to turney, that aftir youre dethe men may speke of hit that such good knyghtes were here, such a day, hole togydirs.’
As unto that counceyle and at the kynges rekeyst they accorded all, and toke on the harneyse that longed unto joustenynge. But all thys mevynge of the kynge was for thys entente, for to se Galahad preved; for the kynge demed he sholde nat lyghtly com agayne unto the courte aftir thys departynge.
So were they assembled in the medowe, both more and lasse. Than sir Galahalt by the prayer of the kynge and the quene dud on a noble jesseraunce uppon hym, and also he dud on hys helme, but shylde wolde he take none for no prayer of the kynge. So than sir Gawayne and othir knyghtes prayde hym to take a speare. Ryght so he dud. So the quene was in a towure with all hir ladyes for to beholde that turnement.
Than sir Galahad dressed hym in myddys of the medow and began to breke spearys mervaylously, that all men had wondir of hym, for he there surmownted all othir knyghtes. For within a whyle he had defowled many good knyghtes of the Table Rounde sauff all only tweyne, that was sir Launcelot and sir Persyvale.
Than the kynge at the quenys desyre made hym to alyght and to [7] unlace hys helme, that the quene myght se hym in the vysayge. Whan she avysed hym she seyde, ‘I dare well sey sothely that sir Launcelot begate hym, for never two men resembled more in lyknesse. Therefore hit ys no mervayle thoughe he be of grete proues.’
So a lady that stood by the quene seyde, ‘Madam, for Goddis sake, ought he of ryght to be so good a knyght?’
‘Ye, forsothe,’ seyde the quene, ‘for he ys of all partyes comyn of the beste knyghtes of the worlde and of the hyghest lynage: for sir Launcelot ys com but of the eyghth degré from oure Lorde Jesu Cryst, and thys sir Galahad ys the nyneth degré frome oure Lorde Jesu Cryst. Therefore I dare sey they be the grettist jantillmen of the worlde.’
And than the kynge and all the astatis wente home unto Camelot, and so wente unto evynsong to the grete monester. And so aftir uppon that to sowper, and every knyght sette in hys owne place as they were toforehonde.
Than anone they harde crakynge and cryynge of thundir, that hem thought the palyse sholde all to-dryve. So in the myddys of the blast entyrde a sonnebeame, more clerer by seven tymys than ever they saw day, and all they were alyghted of the grace of the Holy Goste. Than began every knyght to beholde other, and eyther saw other, by their semynge, fayrer than ever they were before. Natforthan there was no knyght that myght speke one worde a grete whyle, and so they loked every man on other as they had bene doome.
Than entird into the halle the Holy Grayle coverde with whyght samyte, but there was none that myght se hit nother whom that bare hit. And there was all the halle fulfylled with good odoures, and every knyght had such metis and drynkes as he beste loved in thys worlde.
And whan the Holy Grayle had bene borne thorow the hall, than the holy vessell departed suddeynly, that they wyst nat where hit becam. Than had they all breth to speke, and than the kyng yelded thankynges to God of Hys good grace that He had sente them.
‘Sertes,’ seyde the kynge, ‘we ought to thanke oure Lorde Jesu Cryste gretly that he hath shewed us thys day at the reverence of thys hyghe feste of Pentecost.’
‘Now,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘we have bene servyd thys day of what metys and drynkes we thought on. But one thyng begyled us, that we myght nat se the Holy Grayle: hit was so preciously coverde.
Wherefore I woll make here a vow that to-morne, withoute longer abydynge, I shall laboure in the queste of the Sankgreall, and that I shall holde me oute a twelve-month and a day or more if nede be, and never shall I returne unto the courte agayne tylle I have sene hit more opynly than hit hath bene shewed here. And iff I may nat spede I shall returne agayne as he that may nat be ayenst the wylle of God.’
So whan they of the Table Rounde harde sir Gawayne sey so, they arose up the moste party and made such avowes as sir Gawayne hathe made. Anone as kynge Arthur harde thys he was gretly dysplesed, for he wyst well he myght nat agaynesey their avowys.
‘Alas!’ seyde kynge Arthure unto sir Gawayne, ‘ye have nygh slayne me for the avow that ye have made, for thorow you ye have berauffte me the fayryst and the trewyst of knyghthode that ever was sene togydir in ony realme of the worlde. For whan they departe frome hense I am sure they all shall never mete more togydir in thys worlde, for they shall dye many in the queste. And so hit forthynkith nat me a litill, for I have loved them as well as my lyff. Wherefore hit shall greve me ryght sore, the departicion of thys felyship, for I have had an olde custom to have hem in my felyship.’
And therewith the teerys felle in hys yen, and than he seyde, 8
‘Sir Gawayne, rGawayne”*! Ye have sette me in grete sorow, for I have grete doute that my trew felyshyp shall never mete here more agayne.’
‘A, sir,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘comforte youreself! For hit shall be unto us a grete honoure, and much more than we dyed in other placis, for of dethe we be syker.’
‘A, Launcelot!’ seyde the kynge, ‘the grete love that I have had unto you all the dayes of my lyff makith me to sey such doleful! wordis! For there was never Crysten kynge that ever had so many worthy men at hys table as I have had thys day at the Table Rounde. And that ys my grete sorow.’
Whan the quene, ladyes, and jantillwomen knew of thys tydyng they had such sorow and hevynes that there myght no tunge telle, for the knyghtes had holde them in honoure and charité. But aboven all othir quene Gwenyver made grete sorow.
‘I mervayle’, seyde she, ‘that my lorde woll suffir hem to departe fro hym.’
Thus was all the courte trowbled for the love of the departynge of these knyghtes, and many of the ladyes that loved knyghtes wolde have gone with hir lovis. And so had they done, had nat an olde knyght com amonge them in relygious clothynge and spake all on hyght and seyde, ‘Fayre lordis whych have sworne in the queste of the Sankgreall, thus sendith you Nacien the eremyte worde that none in thys queste lede lady nother jantillwoman with hym, for hit ys nat to do in so hyghe a servyse as they laboure in. For I warne you playne, he that ys nat clene of hys synnes he shall nat se the mysteryes of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste’.
And for thys cause they leffte thes ladyes and jantillwomen.
So aftir thys the quene come unto sir Galahad and asked hym of whens he was and of what contrey. Than he tolde hir of whens he
was.
‘And sonne unto sir Launcelot?’ she seyde.
As to that The”l seyde nother yee nother nay.
‘So God me helpe,’ seyde the quene, ‘ye darf nat shame, for he ys the goodlyest knyght, and of the beste men of the worlde commyn, and of the strene, of all partyes, of kynges. Wherefore you ought of ryght to be of youre dedys a passyng good man. And sertayne’, she seyde, ‘ye resemble hym much.’
Than sir Galahad was a lityll ashamed and seyde, ‘Madame, sithyn ye know in sertayne, wherefore do ye aske hit me? For he that ys my fadir shall be knowyn opynly and all betymys.’
And than they wente unto reste them. And in honoure of the hyghnes of knyghthod of sir Galahad he was ledde into kynge Arthures chambir, and there rested in hys owne bedde. And as sone as hit was day the kynge arose, for he had no reste of all that nyght for sorow. Than he wente unto sir Gawayne and unto sir Launcelot that were arysen for to hyre masse, and than the kynge agayne seyde, ‘A, Gawayne, Gawayne! Ye have betrayed me, for never shall my courte be amended by you. But ye woll never be so sory for me as I am for you!’
And therewith the tearys began to renne downe by hys vysayge, and therewith the kynge seyde, A, curteyse knyght, sir Launcelot! I requyre you that ye counceyle me, for I wolde that thys queste were at an ende and hit myght be.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘ye saw yestirday so many worthy knyghtes there were sworne that they may nat leve hit in no maner of wyse.’
‘That wote I well,’ seyde the kynge, ‘but hit shall so hevy me at their departyng that I wote well there shall no maner of joy remedy me.’
And than the kynge and the quene wente unto the mynster. So anone sir Launcelot and sir Gawayne commaunded hir men to brynge hir armys, and whan they all were all armed sauff hir shyldys and her helmys, than they com to their felyship whych were all redy in the same wyse for to go to the monastery to hyre their masse and servyse.
Than aftir servyse the kynge wolde wete how many had undirtake the queste of the Holy Grayle; than founde they be tale an hondred and fyffty, and all the were knyghtes of the Rounde Table. And than they put on their helmys and departed and recommaunded them all hole unto the kynge and quene. And there was wepyng and grete sorow.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 72