Whan sir Percivale perceyved hit he kyst downe his shylde whych was brokyn, and than he dud of hys helme for to gadir wynde, for he was gretly chaffed with the serpente; and the lyon wente allwey aboute hym fawnynge as a spaynell, and than he stroked hym on the necke and on the sholdirs and thanked God of the feliship of that beste.
And aboute noone the lyon toke hys lityll whelpe and trussed hym and bare hym there he com fro. Than was sir Percivale alone. And as the tale tellith, he was at that tyme, one of the men of the worlde whych moste beleved in oure Lorde Jesu Cryste, for in the dayes there was but fewe folk at that tyme that beleved perfitely; for in the dayes the sonne spared nat the fadir no more than a straunger.
And so sir Percivale comforted hymselff in oure Lorde Jesu and besought Hym that no temptacion sholde brynge hym oute of Goddys servys, but to endure as His trew champyon. Thus whan sir Percyvale had preyde he saw the lyon com towarde hym and cowched downe at his feet. And so all that nyght the lyon and he slepte togydirs.
And whan sir Percivale slepte he dremed a mervaylous dreme; that two ladyes mette with hym, and that one sate uppon a lyon, and that other sate uppon a serpente; and that one of hem was yonge, and that other was olde, and the yongist, hym thought, seyde, ‘Sir Percyvale, my lorde salewith and sendeth the worde thou aray the and make the redy, for to-morne thou muste fyght with the strongest champion of the worlde. And if thou be overcom thou shalt nat be quytte for losyng of ony of thy membrys, but thou shalt be shamed for ever to the worldis ende.’
And than he asked her what was hir lorde, and she seyde ‘the grettist lorde of the worlde’. And so she departed suddeynly, that he wyst nat where.
Than com forth the tothir lady, that rode uppon the serpente, [7] and she seyde, ‘Sir Percivale, I playne unto you of that ye have done unto me, and I have nat offended unto you.’
‘Sertes, madam,’ seyde he, ‘unto you nor no lady I never offended.”Yes,’ seyde she, ‘I shall sey you why. I have norysshed in thys place a grete whyle a serpente whych pleased me much and served me a grete whyle. And yestirday ye slew hym as he gate hys pray. Sey me for what cause ye slew hym, for the lyon was nat youres.”Madam, I know well the lyon was nat myne, but for the lyon ys more of jantiller nature than the serpente, therefore I slew hym, and mesemyth I dud nat amysse agaynst you. Madam,’ seyde he, ‘what wolde ye that I dud?’
‘I wolde,’ seyde she, ‘for the amendis of my beste that ye becam my man.’
And than he answerde and seyde, ‘That woll I nat graunte you.’
‘No?’ seyde she. ‘Truly, ye were never but my servaunte syn ye resseyved the omayge of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste. Therefore I you ensure, in what place that I may fynde you withoute kepyng, I shall take you as he that somtyme was my man.’
And so she departed fro sir Percivale and leffte hym slepynge, whych was sore travayled of hys avision. And on the morne he arose and blyssed hym, and he was passynge fyeble.
Than was sir Percivale ware in the see where com a shippe saylyng toward hym, and sir Percivale wente unto the ship and founde hit coverde within and without with whyght samyte. And at the helme stoode an olde man clothed in a surplyse, in lyknes of a pryste.
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘ye be wellcom.’
‘God kepe you,’ seyde the good man. ‘And of whense be ye?’
‘Sir, I am of kynge Arthurs courte and a knyght of the Rounde Table, whych am in the queste of the Sankgreall, and here I am in grete duras and never lyke to ascape oute of thys wyldernes.”Doute ye nat,’ seyde the good man, ‘and ye be so trew a knyght as the Order of Shevalry requyrith, and of herte as ye ought to be, ye shold nat doute that none enemy shold slay you.’
‘What ar ye?’ seyde sir Percyvale.
‘Sir, I am of a strange contrey, and hydir I com to comforte you.”Sir,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘what signifieth my dreme that I dremed thys nyght?’ And there he tolde hym alltogydir.
‘She which rode uppon the lyon, hit betokenyth the new law of Holy Chirche, that is to undirstonde fayth, good hope, belyeve and baptyme; for she semed yonger than that othir hit ys grete reson, for she was borne in the Resurreccion and the Passion of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste. And for grete love she cam to the to warne the of thy grete batayle that shall befalle the.’
‘With whom,’ seyde sir Percivale, shall I fyght?’
‘With the moste douteful champion of the worlde, for, as the lady seyde, but if thou quyte the welle thou shalt nat be quytte by losyng of one membir, but thou shalt be shamed to the worldis ende. And she that rode on the serpente signifieth the olde law, and that serpente betokenyth a fynde. And why she blamed the that thou slewyst hir servaunte, hit betokenyth nothynge aboute the serpente ye slewe; that betokenyth the devyll that thou rodist on to the roche. And whan thou madist a sygne of the crosse, there thou slewyst hym and put away hys power. And whan she asked the amendis and to becom hir man, than thou saydist nay, that was to make the beleve on her and leve thy baptym.’
So he commaunded sir Percivale to departe, and so he lepte over the boorde, and the shippe and all wente away he wyste nat whydir. Than he wente up into the roche and founde the lyon whych allway bare hym felyship, and he stroked hym uppon the backe and had grete joy of hym.
Bi that sir Percivale had byddyn there tyll mydday he saw a shippe com saylyng in the see as all the wynde of the worlde had dryven hit, [8] and so hit londid undir that rocche. And whan sir Percivale saw thys he hyghed hym thydir and founde the shippe coverde with sylke more blacker than ony beré, and therein was a jantillwoman of grete beauté, and she was clothe rychly, there myght be none bettir. And whan she saw sir Percivale she asked hym who brought hym into thys wylderness ‘where ye be never lyke to passe hense, for ye shall dye here for hunger and myscheff.’
‘Damesell,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘I serve the beste man of the worlde, and in Hys servyse He woll nat suffix me to dye, for who that knockith shall entir, and who that askyth shall have; and who that sekith Hym, He hydyth Hym not unto Hys wordys.’
But than she seyde, ‘Sir Percivale, wote ye what I am?’
‘Who taught you my name?’ now seyde sir Percivale.
‘I knowe you bettir than ye wene: I com but late oute of the Waste Foreyste where I founde the Rede Knyght with the whyghte shylde.
‘A, fayre damesell,’ seyde he, ‘that knyght wolde I fayne mete withall.’
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde she, ‘and ye woll ensure me by the fayth that ye owghe unto knyghthode that ye shall do my wyll what tyme I somon you, and I shall brynge you unto that knyght.’
‘Yes,’ he seyde, ‘I shall promyse you to fullfylle youre desyre.”Well,’ seyde she, ‘now shall I telle you. I saw hym in the Waste Foreyste chasyng two knyghtes unto the watir whych ys callede Mortayse, and they drove into that watir for drede of dethe. And the two knyghtes passed over, and the Rede Knyght passed aftir, and there hys horse was drowned, and he thorow grete strenghte ascaped unto the londe.’
Thus she tolde hym, and sir Percivale was passynge glad thereoff. Than she asked hym if he had ete ony mete late.
‘Nay, madam, truly I yeete no mete nyghe thes three dayes, but late here I spake with a good man that fedde me with hys good wordys and holy” and refreyshed me gretly.’
‘A, sir knyght, that same man,’ seyde she, ‘ys an inchaunter and a multiplier of wordis, for and ye belyve hym, ye shall be playnly shamed and dye in thys roche for pure hunger and be etyn with wylde bestis. And ye be a yonge man and a goodly knyght, and I shall helpe you and ye woll.’
‘What ar ye,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘that proferyth me thus so grete kyndenesse?’
‘I am,’ seyde she, ‘a jantillwoman that am diseryte, whych was the rychest woman of the worlde.’
‘Damesell,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘who hath disheryte you? For I have grete pité of you.’
‘Sir,’ seyde she, ‘I dwelled with the grettist man of the worlde, and he made me so fayre and so clere that there was none lyke me. And of that grete beawté I had a litill pryde, mor
e than I oughte to have had. Also I sayde a worde that plesed hym nat, and than he wolde nat suffit me to be no lenger in his company. And so he drove me frome myne herytayge and disheryted me for ever, and he had never pité of me nother of none of my counceyle nother of my courte. And sitthyn, sir knyght, hit hath befallyn me to be so overthrowyn and all myne, yet I have benomme hym som of hys men and made hem to becom my men, for they aske never nothynge of me but I — gyff hem that and much more. Thus I and my servauntes werre ayenste hym nyght and day, therefore I know no good knyght nor no good man but I gete hem on my syde and I may. And for that I know that ye ar a good knyght I beseche you to helpe me, and for ye be a felowe of the Rounde Table, wherefore ye ought nat to fayle no jantillwoman which ys disherite and she besought you of helpe.’
[9] Than sir Percivale promysed her all the helpe that he myght, and than she thanked hym.
And at that tyme the wedir was hote. Than she called unto her a jantillwoman and bade hir brynge forth a pavilion. And so she ded and pyghte hit uppon the gravell.
‘Sir,’ seyde she, now may ye reste you in thys hete of thys day.’ Than he thanked her, and she put of hys helme and hys shylde. And there he slepte a grete whyle.
And so he awoke and asked her if she had ony mete, and she seyde ‘yee, ye shall have inowghe.’ And anone there was leyde a table, and so muche meete was sette thereon that he had mervayle, for there was all maner of meetes that he cowde thynke on. Also he dranke there the strengyst wyne that ever he dranke, hym thought, and therewith he was chaffett a lityll more than he oughte to be.
With that he behylde that jantilwoman, and hym thought she was the fayryst creature that ever he saw. And than sir Percivale profird hir love and prayde hir that she wolde be hys. Than she refused hym in a maner whan he requyred her, for cause he sholde be the more ardente on hir. And ever he sesed nat to pray hir of love. And whan she saw hym well enchaffed, than she seyde, ‘Sir Percivale, wyte you well I shall nat fulfylle youre wylle but if ye swere frome henseforthe ye shall be my trew servaunte, and to do nothynge but that I shall commaunde you. Woll ye ensure me thys as ye be a trew knyght?’
‘Yee,’ seyde he, ‘fayre lady, by the feythe of my body!’
‘Well,’ seyde she, ‘now shall ye do with me what ye wyll, and now, wyte you well, ye ar the knyght in the worlde that I have moste desyre to.’
And than two squyres were commaunded to make a bedde in myddis of the pavelon, and anone she was unclothed and leyde therein. And than sir Percivale layde hym downe by her naked. And by adventure and grace he saw hys swerde ly on the erthe nake d, where in the pomell was a rede crosse and the sygne of the crucifixe ther in, and bethought hym of hys knyghthode and hys promyse made unto the good man tofornehande, and than he made a sygne in the forehed of hys. And therewith the pavylon turned up-so-downe and than hit chonged unto a smooke and a blak clowde. And than he drad sore and cryed alowde, ‘Fayre swete Lorde Jesu Cryste, ne lette me nat be shamed, which [10] was nyghe loste had nat Thy good grace bene!’
And than he loked unto her shippe and saw her entir therein, which seyde, ‘Syr Percivale, ye have betrayde me.’
And so she wente with the wynde, rorynge and yellynge, that hit semed all the water brente after her.
Than sir Percivale made grete sorow and drew hys swerde unto hym and seyde, ‘Sitthyn my fleyssh woll be my mayster I shall punyssh hit.’ And therewith he rooff hymselff thorow the thygh, that the blood sterte aboute hym, and seyde, A, good Lord, take thys in recompensacion of that I have myssedone ayenste The, Lorde!’
So than he clothed hym and armed hym and called hymself wrecche of all wrecchis: ‘How nyghe I was loste, and to have lost that I sholde never have gotyn agayne, that was my virginité, for that may never be recoverde aftir hit ys onys loste.’
And than he stopped hys bledyng wound with a pece of hys sherte. Thus as he made hys mone he saw the same shippe com from the Oryente that the good man was in the day before. And thys noble knyght was sore ashamed of hymselff, and therewith he fylle in a sowne. And whan he awooke he wente unto hym waykely, and there he salewed the good man.
And than he asked sir Percivale, ‘How haste thou done syth I departed?’
‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘here was a jantillwoman and ledde me into dedly synne.’
And there he tolde hym alltogidirs.
‘Knew ye nat that mayde?’ seyde the good man.
‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘nay, but well I wote the fynde sente hir hydir to shame me.’
‘A, good knyght,’ seyde he, ‘thou arte a foole, for that jantillwoman was the mayster fyende of helle, which hath pousté over all other devyllis. And that was the olde lady that thou saw in thyne avision rydyng on the serpente.’
Than he tolde sir Percivale how oure Lord Jesu Cryste bete hym oute of hevyn for hys synne, whycch was the moste bryghtist angell of hevyn, and therefore he loste hys heritaige. ‘And that was the champion that thou fought withall, whych had overcom the, had nat the grace of God bene. Now, sir Percivale, beware and take this for an insample.’
And than the good man vanysshed. Than sir Percivale toke hys armys and entirde into the shippe, and so he departed from thens.
SO LEVITH THYS TALE AND TURNYTH UNTO SIR LAUNCELOT.
IV. SIR LAUNCELOT
WHAN the eremyte had kepte sir Launcelot three dayes than the [1] eremyte gate hym an horse, a helme and a swerde, and than he departed and rode untyll the owre of none. And than he saw a litill house, and whan he cam nere he saw a lityll chapell. And there besyde he sye an olde man which was clothed all in whyght full rychely. And than sir Launcelot seyde, ‘Sir, God save you!’
‘Sir, God kepe you,’ seyde the good man, ‘and make you a good knyght.’
Than sir Launcelot alyght and entird into the chapell, and there he saw an olde man dede and in a whyght sherte of passyng fyne clothe.
‘Sir,’ seyde the good man, ‘this man ought nat to be in such clothynge as ye se hym in, for in that he brake the othe of hys order, for he hath bene more than an hondred wynter a man of religions.’ And than the good man and sir Launcelot went into the chapell; and the good man toke a stole aboute hys neck and a booke, and than he conjoured on that booke. And with that they saw the fyende in an hydeous fygure, that there was no man so hardé-herted in the worlde but he sholde a bene aferde. Than seyde the fyende, ‘Thou haste travayle me gretly. Now telle me what thou wolte with me.’
‘I woll,’ seyde the good man, ‘that thou telle me how my felawe becam dede, and whether he be saved or dampned.’
Than he seyde with an horrible voice, ‘He ys nat lost, but he ys saved!’
‘How may that be?’ seyde the good man. ‘Hit semyth me that he levith nat well, for he brake hys order for to were a sherte where he ought to were none, and who that trespassith ayenst oure ordre doth nat well.’
‘Nat so,’ seyde the fyende. ‘Thys man that lyeth here was com of grete lynage. And there was a lorde that hyght the erle de Vale that hylde grete warre ayenste thys mannes nevew which hyght Aguaurs. And so thys Aguaurs saw the erle was bygger than he. Than he wente for to take counceyle of hys uncle which lyeth dede here as ye may se, and than he wente oute of hys ermytaige for to maynteyne his nevew ayenste the myghty erle. And so hit happed that thys man that lyeth dede ded so muche by hys wysedom and hardines that the erle was take and three of hys lordys by force of thys dede [2] man. Than was there pees betwyxte thys erle and thys Aguaurs, and grete sûreté that the erle sholde never warre agaynste hym more.
‘Than this dede man that here lyeth cam to thys ermytayge agayne. And than the erle made two of hys nevews for to be avenged uppon this man. So they com on a day and founde thys dede man at the sakerynge of hys masse. And they abode hym tyll he had seyde masse, and than they sette uppon hym and drew oute their swerdys to have slayne hym, but there wolde no swerde byghte on hym more than uppon a gadde of steele, for the Hyghe Lorde which he served, He hym preserved. Than made they a grete fyre and dud of all hys clothys and the heyre of hys backe. And than th
ys dede man ermyte seyde unto them, ‘ “Wene ye to bren me? Hit shall nat lyghe in youre power, nother to perish me as much as a threde, and there were ony on my body.” ‘“No?” seyde one of them. “Hit shall be assayde.”
‘And than they dispoyled hym, and put uppon hym hys sherte, and kyste hym in a fayre. And there he lay all that day tyll hit was nyght in that fyre and was nat dede. And so in the morne than com I and founde hym dede, but I founde neyther threde nor skynne tamed. So toke they hym oute of the fyre with grete feare and leyde hym here as ye may se. And now may ye suffir me to go my way, for I have seyde you the sothe.’
And than he departed with a grete tempest. Than was the good man and sir Launcelot more gladder than they were tofore. And than sir Launcelot dwelled with that good man that nyght.
‘Sir,’ seyde the good man, ‘be ye nat sir Launcelot du Lake?’
‘Ye, sir,’ seyde he.
‘Sir, what seke you in thys contrey?’
‘I go, sir, to seke the adventures of the Sankgreall.’
‘Well,’ seyde he, ‘seke ye hit ye may well, but thoughe hit were here ye shall have no power to se hit, no more than a blynde man that sholde se a bryght swerde. And that ys longe on youre synne, and ellys ye were more abeler than ony man lyvynge.’
And than sir Launcelot began to wepe. Than seyde the good man, “Were ye confessed synne ye entred into the queste of the Sankgreall?’
‘Ye, sir,’ seyde sir Launcelot.
Than uppon the morne whan the good man had songe hys masse, than they buryed the dede man.
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 76