Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory

by Thomas Malory

  ‘Sertes,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘and hit had nat pleased oure Lorde, never sholde we have slayne so many men in so litill a whyle.’

  And they brought the erle Hernox oute of preson into the myddis of the hall, the which knew well sir Galahad, and yet he sye hym never before but by revelacion of oure Lorde. Than began he to [9] wepe ryght tendirly, and seyde, ‘Longe have I abyddyn youre commynge! But for Goddis love, holdith me in youre armys, that my soule may departe oute of my body in so good a mannys armys as ye be.’

  ‘Full gladly,’ seyde sir Galahad.

  And than one seyde on hyght, that all folke harde, ‘Sir Galahad, well has thou ben avenged on Goddis enemyes. Now behovith the to go to the Maymed Kynge as sone as thou mayste, for he shall ressayve by the helth whych he hath abydden so longe.’

  And therewith the soule departed frome the body. And sir Galahad made hym to be buryed as hym ought to be.

  Ryght so departed the three knyghtes, and sir Percivallis syster with them. And so they cam into a waste foreyst, and there they saw afore them a whyght herte which four lyons lad. Than they toke hem to assente for to folow aftir to know whydir they repayred.

  And so they rode aftir a grete pase tyll that they cam to a valey.

  And thereby was an ermytayge where a good man dwelled, and the herte and the lyons entirde also. Whan they saw all thys they turned to the chapell and saw the good man in a relygious wede and in the armour of oure Lorde, for he wolde synge masse of the Holy Goste.

  And so they entird in and herde masse; and at the secretis of the masse they three saw the herte becom a man, which mervayled hem, and sette hym uppon the awter in a ryche serge, and saw the four lyons were chaunged: one to the fourme of man, and another to the fourme of a lyon, and the thirde to an egle, and the fourth was changed to an oxe. Than toke they her sege where the harte sate, and wente out thorow a glasse wyndow; and there was nothynge perisshed nother brokyn.

  And they harde ra voyce”> say: ‘In such maner entred the Sonne of God into the wombe of Maydyn Mary, whos virginité ne was perisshed, ne hurte.’

  And whan they harde thes wordis, they felle downe to the erthe and were astoned. And therewith was a grete clerenesse. And whan they were com to theirselff agayne, they wente to the good man and prayde hym that he wolde sey them the trouthe of that vision.

  ‘Why, what thynge have ye sene?’

  Anone they tolde hym all.

  ‘A, lordys,’ seyde he, ye be wellcom, for now wote I well ye beth the good knyghtes whych shall brynge the Sankgreall to an ende; for ye bene they unto whom oure Lorde shall shew grete secretis. And well ought oure Lorde be signifyed to an harte. For the harte, whan he ys olde, he waxith yonge agayne in his whyght skynne. Ryght so commyth agayne oure Lorde frome deth to lyff, for He lost erthely fleysshe, that was the dedly fleyssh whych He had takyn in the wombe of the Blyssed Virgyne Mary. And for that cause appered oure Lorde as a whyghte harte withoute spot.

  And the four that were with hym ys to undirstonde the four evaungelistis, which sette in wrytynge a parte of Jesu Crystes dedys, that He dud somtyme whan He was amonge you an erthely man. For wete you welle never arst ne myght no knyght knowe the trouthe; for oftyntymes or thys hath oure Lorde shewed Hym unto good men and to good knyghtes in lyknesse of an herte, but I suppose frome henseforthe ye shall se hit no more.’

  And than they joyed much, and dwelled there all day. And uppon the morne, whan they had herde masse, they departed and commended the good man to God. And so they cam to a castell, and passed. So there cam a knyght armed aftir them and seyde, ‘Lordys, thys jantillwoman that ye lede with you, ys she a mayde?’ [10] ‘Ye, sir,’ seyde she, ‘a mayde I am.’

  Than he toke hir by the brydyll and seyde, ‘By the Holy Crosse, ye shall nat ascape me tofore ye have yolden the custum of thys castell.’

  ‘Lat her go!’ seyde sir Percivale. ‘Ye be nat wyse, for a mayde, in what place she commythe, ys fre.’

  So in the meanewhyle there cam oute a ten or twelve knyghtes armed oute of the castell, and with hem cam jantillwomen the which hylde a dyssh of sylver. And than they seyde, ‘Thys jantillwoman muste yelde us the custom of thys castell.’

  ‘Why,’ seyde sir Gallahad, ‘what ys the custom of thys castell?’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde a knyght, ‘what mayde passith hereby, sholde hylde thys dyshe full of bloode of hir ryght arme.’

  ‘Blame have he,’ seyde Galahad, ‘that brought up such customs!

  And so God save me, also sure mow ye be that of this jantillwoman shall ye fayle whyle that I have hele.’

  ‘So God me helpe,’ seyde sir Percivale, ‘I had lever be slayne.’

  And I also,’ seyde sir Bors.

  ‘Be my fayth,’ seyde the knyght, ‘than shall ye dye, for ye mow nat endure ayenste us, thoughe ye were the beste knyghtes of the worlde.’

  Than lette they ren ech horse to other, and thes three knyghtes bete the ten knyghtes, and than set their hondis to their swerdis and bete them downe. Than there cam oute of the castell a sixty knyghtes armed.

  ‘Now, fayre lordis,’ seyde thes three knyghtes, ‘have mercy on youreselff, and have nat ado with us.’

  ‘Nay, fayre lordes,’ seyde the knyghtes of the castell, ‘we counceyle you to withdrawe you, for ye ben the beste knyghtes of the worlde, and therefore do no more, for ye have done inow. We woll lat you go with thys harme, but we muste nedys have the custum.”Sertes,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘for noughte speke ye.’

  ‘Well,’ sey they, ‘woll ye dye?’

  ‘Sir, we be nat yet com thereto’, seyde sir Galahad.

  Than began they to meddyll togydirs. And sir Galahad with the straunge gurdyls drew his swerde and smote on the ryght honde and on the lyffte honde, and slew whom that ever abode hym, and dud so mervaylously that there was none that sawe hym they wend he had ben none erthely man but a monstre.”

  And hys two felowis helpe hym passyngly well, and so they helde their journey everych inlycke harde tyll hit was nyghe nyght. Than muste they nedis departe. So there cam a good knyght and seyde to thes three knyghtes, ‘If ye woll com in to-nyght and take such herberow as here ys, ye shall be ryght wellcom. And we shall ensure you by the fayth of oure bodyes and as we be trew knyghtes to leve you in such astate tomorow as here we fynde you, withoute ony falsehode. And as sone as ye know of the custom, we dare sey y e woll accorde therefore.”For Goddis love,’ seyde the jantyllwoman, ‘go we thydir, and spare nat for me.’

  ‘Well, go we!’ seyde sir Galahad.

  And so they entird into the castell, and whan they were alyght they made grete joy of hem. So within a whyle the three knyghtes asked the custom of the castell, and wherefore hit was used.

  [11] ‘Sir, what hit ys we woll sey you the sothe. There ys in this castell a jantillwoman, whych both we and thys castell ys hers, and many other. So hit befelle many yerys agone, there happened on her a malodye, and whan she had lyene a grete whyle she felle unto a mesell. And no leche cowde remedye her, but at the laste an olde man sayde, and she myght have a dysshfulle of bloode of a maydyn, and a clene virgyne in wylle and in worke, and a kynges doughter, that bloode sholde be her helth for to anoynte her withall. And for thys thynge was thys custom made.’

  ‘Now,’ seyde sir Percivallis sister, ‘fayre knyghtes, I se well that this jantillwoman ys but dede withoute helpe, and therefore lette me blede.’

  ‘Sertes,’ seyde sir Galahad, and ye blede so muche ye mou dye.”Truly,’ seyd she, ‘and I dye for the helth of her I shall gete me grete worship and soule helthe, and worship to my lynayge; and better ys one harme than twayne. And therefore there shall no more batayle be, but to-morne I shall yelde you youre custom of this castell.’

  And than there was made grete joy over there, more than was made tofore, for ellis had there bene mortall warre uppon the morne; natwithstondynge she wolde none other, whether they wolde or nolde. So that nyght were thes three felowis eased with the beste, and on the morne they harde masse. And sir Percivalis syster bade them brynge forth t
he syke lady. So she was brought forth, whych was full evyll at ease. Than seyde she, ‘Who shall lette me bloode?’

  So one cam furthe and lette her bloode. And she bled so muche that the dyssh was fulle. Than she lyfft up her honde and blyssed her and seyde to thys lady, ‘Madam, I am com to my dethe for to hele you. Therefore, for Goddis love, prayeth for me!’

  And with that she felle in a sowne. Than sir Galahad and his two felows sterte up to her, and lyffte hir up, and staunched hir blood, but she had bled so muche that she myght nat lyve. So whan she was awaked she seyde, ‘Fayre brothir, sir Percivale, I dye for the helynge of this lady. And whan I am dede, I requyre you that ye burye me nat in thys contrey, but as sone as I am dede putte me in a boote at the nexte haven, and lat me go as aventures woll lede me. And as sone as ye three com to the cité of Sarras, there to enchyeve the Holy Grayle, ye shall fynde me undir a towre aryved. And there bury me in the spirituall palyse. For I shall telle you for trouthe, there sir Galahad shall be buryed, and ye bothe, in the same place.’

  Whan sir Percivale undirstoode thes wordis he graunted hir all wepyngly. And than seyde a voice unto them, ‘Lordis, to-morow, at the owre of pryme, ye three shall departe everych frome other, tylle the aventure brynge you unto the Maymed Kynge.’

  Than asked she her Saveoure, and as sone as she had reseyved Hym the soule departed frome the body. So the same day was the lady heled whan she was anoynted with hir bloode. Than sir Percivale made a lettir of all that she had helpe them as in stronge aventures, and put hit in hir ryght honde. And so leyde hir in a barge, and coverde hit with blacke sylke. And so the wynde arose and droff the barge frome the londe, and all maner of knyghtes behylde hit tyll hit was oute of ther syght.

  Than they drew all to the castell, and furthewith there fylle a tempeste suddeyne of thundir and lyghtnynge and rayne, as all the erthe wolde a brokyn. So halff the castell turned up-so-downe. So hyt passyd evensonge or the tempest were seased. Than they saw tofore hem a knyght armed and wounded harde in the body and in the hede, whych seyde, A, Good Lord, succour me, for now hit ys nede!’

  So after thys knyght there cam another knyght and a dwarff which cryed to hem afarre, ‘Stonde, ye may nat ascape!’

  Than the wounded knyght hylde up hys hondys, and prayde God he myght nat dye in suche tribulacion.

  ‘Truly,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘I shall succour hym, for His sake that he callith on.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde sir Bors, ‘I shall do hit, for hit ys nat for you, for he ys but one knyght.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘I graunte you.’

  So sir Bors toke hys horse and commaunded hym to God, and rode after to rescow the wounded knyght.

  [12] Now TURNE WE TO SIR GALAHAD AND TO SIR PERCIVALL.

  Now turnyth the tale unto sir Galahad and sir Percivall, that were in a chapell all nyght in hir prayers, for to save hem sir Bors. So on the morow they dressed them in their harneys toward the castell, to wete what was fallyn of them therein And whan they cam there, they founde nother man nother woman that he ne was dede by the vengeaunce of oure Lorde. So with that they harde a voice that seyde, ‘Thys vengeaunce ys for bloode-shedynge of maydyns!’

  Also they founde at the ende of the chappel a chircheyarde, and therein they myght se a sixti fayre tumbis. And that place was fayre and so delectable that hit semed hem there had bene no tempeste. And there lay the bodyes of all the good maydyns which were martirde for the syke lady. Also they founde there namys of ech lady, and of what bloode they were com off. And all were of kyngys bloode, and twelve of them were kynges doughtirs.

  Than departed they and wente into a foreyste.

  ‘Now,’ seyde sir Percivale unto sir Galahad, ‘we muste departe, and therefore pray we oure Lorde that we may mete togydirs in shorte tyme.’

  Than they ded of their helmys and kyssed togydir and sore wepte at theyre departynge.

  NOW TURNYTH THYS TALE UNTO SIR LAUNCELOTT.

  VIII. THE CASTLE OF CORBENIC

  Now seyth the tale that whan sir Launcelot was com to the watir of Mortays as hit ys reherced before, he was in grete perell. And so he leyde hym downe and slepte, and toke the adventure that God wolde sende hym. So whan he was aslepe there cam a vision unto hym that seyde, ‘Sir Launcelot, aryse up and take thyne armour, and entir into the firste shippe that thou shalt fynde!’

  And whan he herde thes wordys he sterte up and saw grete clerenesse aboute hym, and than he lyffte up hys honde and blyssed hym. And so toke hys armys and made hym redy.

  And at the laste he cam by a stronde and founde a shippe withoute sayle other ore. And as sone as he was within the shippe, there he had the moste swettnes that ever he felte, and he was fulfylled with all thynge that he thought on other desyred. Than he seyde, ‘Swete Fadir, Jesu Cryste! I wote natt what joy I am in, for thys passith all erthely joyes that ever I was in.’

  And so in thys joy he leyde hym downe to the shippe-bourde and slepte tyll day. And whan he awooke he founde there a fayre bed, and therein lyynge a jantillwoman dede, which was sir Percivalles sister. And as sir Launcelot avised her, he aspyed in hir ryght honde a wrytte whych he rad, that tolde hym all the aventures that ye have herde before, and of what lynayge she was com.

  So with thys jantillwoman sir Launcelot was a moneth and more.

  If ye wold aske how he lyved, for He that fedde the peple of Israel with manna in deserte, so was he fedde; for every day, whan he had seyde hys prayers, he was susteyned with the grace of the Holy Goste.

  And so on a nyght he wente to play hym by the watirs syde, for he was somwhat wery of the shippe. And than he lystened and herde an hors com and one rydyng uppon hym, and whan he cam nyghe hym semed a knyght, and so he late hym passe and wente thereas the ship was. And there he alyght and toke the sadyll and the brydill, and put the horse frome hym, and so wente into the shyppe.

  And than sir Launcelot dressed hym unto the shippe and seyde, ‘Sir, ye be wellcom!’

  And he answerd, and salewed hym agayne and seyde, ‘Sir, what ys youre name? For much my herte gevith unto you.”Truly,’ seyde he, ‘my name ys sir Launcelot du Lake.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘than be ye wellcom! For ye were the begynner of me in thys worlde.’

  ‘A, sir, ar ye sir Galahad?’

  ‘Ye, forsothe.’

  And so he kneled downe and askyd hym hys blyssynge. And aftir that toke of hys helme and kyssed hym, and there was grete joy betwyxte them, for no tunge can telle what joy was betwyxte them.

  And there every of them tolde othir the aventures that had befalle them syth that they departed frome the courte. And anone as sir Galahad saw the jantillwoman dede in the bedde he knew her well, and seyde grete worship of hir, that she was one of the beste maydyns lyvyng and hit was grete pité of hir dethe.

  But whan sir Launcelot herde how the mervayles swerde was gotyn and who made hit, and all the mervayles rehersed afore, than he prayd sir Galahad that he wolde shew hym the swerde. And so he brought hit forth and kyssed the pomell and the hiltis and the scawberde.

  ‘Truly,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘never arste knew I of so hyghe adventures done, and so mervalous stronge.’

  So dwelled sir Launcelot and Galahad within that shippe halff a yere, and served God dayly and nyghtly with all their power.

  And often they aryved in yles ferre frome folke, where there repayred none but wylde beestes, and ther they founde many straunge adventures and peryllous which they brought to an end. But for the adventures were with wylde beestes and nat in the quest of the Sancgreal, therfor the tale ma kith here no menc you therof; for it wolde be to longe to telle of alle the adventures that befelle them.

  So aftir, on a Mondaye, hit befelle that they aryved in the edge [14] of a forey fste tofore a crosse. And thenne sawe they a knyghte armed all in whyte, and was rychely horsed, and ledde in his ryght hond a whyte hors. And so he cam to the shyp and salewed the two knyghtes in the Hyghe Lordis behalff, and seyde unto sir Galahad, ‘Sir, ye have bene longe inowe with youre fadir. Therefore com oute
of the shippe, and take thys horse, and go where the aventures shall lede you in the queste of the Sankgreall.’

  Than he wente to hys fadir and kyste hym swetely and seyde, ‘Fayre swete fadir, I wote nat whan I shall se you more tyll I se the body of Jesu Cryste.’

  ‘Now, for Goddis love,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘pray to the Fadir that He holde me stylle in Hys servyse.’

  And so he toke hys horse, and there they hard a voyce that seyde, ‘Every of you thynke for to do welle, for nevermore shall one se another off you before the dredefull day of doome.’

  ‘Now, my sonne, sir Galahad, sith we shall departe and nother of us se other more, I pray to that Hyghe Fadir, conserve me and you bothe.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘no prayer avaylith so much as youres.’

  And therewith sir Galahad entird into the foreyste. And the wynde arose and drove sir Launcelot more than a moneth thorow the se, where he sleped but litill, but prayde to God that he myght se som tydynges of the Sankgreall.

  So hit befelle on a nyght, at mydnyght, he aryved before a castell, on the backe syde whiche was ryche and fayre, and there was a posterne opened toward the see, and was open withoute ony kepynge, save two lyons kept the entré; and the moone shone ryght clere. A none sir Launcelot herd a voyce that seyde, ‘Launcelot, go oute of this shyp, and entre into the castel where thou shake see a grete parte of thy desyre.’

  Thenne he ran to hys armys and so armed hym, and so wente to the gate and saw the lyons. Thenne sette he hand to his suerd and dr ewe hit. So there cam a dwerf sodenly and smote hym th e arme so sore that the suerd felle oute of his hand. Then herde he a voice say, ‘O, man of evylle feyth and poure byleve! Wherefore trustist thou more on thy harneyse than in thy Maker? For He myght more avayle the than thyne armour, in what servyse that thou arte sette in.’ Than seyde sir Launcelot, ‘Fayre Fadir, Jesu Cryste! I thanke The of Thy grete mercy that Thou reprevyst me of my myssedede. Now se I that Thou holdiste me for one of Thy servauntes.’