by Michael Foss
‘Father Jesu Christ,’ Lancelot replied, ‘I thank you that you reprove me. Now I see that you hold me for your servant.’
So he entered the castle with his sword in its sheath, and found all doors open till he came to the last chamber. He set his hand on the door thereto, but he could not open it.
He struggled much with the door. Then he heard a voice singing so sweetly that it seemed no earthly thing. So Sir Lancelot knelt before the chamber, for he knew then that the Holy Grail was within.
‘O Jesu,’ he prayed, ‘sweet Father, if ever I pleased you hold me not in despite for my sins, but show me something of what I seek.’
With that the door opened and there came out a great clearness, so that the house was as bright as all the torches of the world. Then he would have entered, but again a voice spoke and said, ‘Flee, Lancelot, and enter not.’
At once he withdrew aback right heavy. He looked into the chamber and saw the holy vessel, covered with red and gold silk on a silver table, with many angels about it. And a priest, at the consecration of the Mass, held up his hands so heavy, and it seemed the very body of Christ was betwixt them. Lancelot marvelled, for he thought the priest would fall to earth, so greatly charged of the figure was he. When none would help him, Lancelot came swiftly forwards and cried, ‘O Jesu Christ, take it as no sin if I give needful help to this good man.’
Right so he entered the chamber. But as he came nigh to the silver table, he felt a hot breath intermeddled with fire that scored over his face. Therewith he fell to earth. He could not rise, for he had lost the power of his body, and his hearing and his seeing. Then he felt many hands about him. They bore him out of the chamber, and left him seeming dead to all the people.
On the morrow, when it was fair day, the folk found Sir Lancelot lying before the chamber door. So they took him up and placed him in a rich bed, hid far from all people, and one said he was alive and the other said nay. Then spoke a wise old man and said, ‘He is not dead, but so full of life as the mightiest of you. I counsel you that he be well kept until God send him breath and spirits again.’
In such manner they kept Sir Lancelot four-and-twenty days and nights. And on the twenty-fifth, after midday, he opened his eyes.
‘Why have you awaked me?’ he lamented to the folk. ‘I was more at ease among marvels of secretness than I am now.’
‘Well, my lord,’ they said unto him, ‘how stands it with you?’
‘Forsooth, I am whole of body,’ said he, ‘thanked be Our Lord. But sirs, for the love of God tell me where I am.’
‘This, sir, is the Castle of Carbonek.’
Therewith came a gentlewoman with a shirt of small linen cloth. Sir Lancelot would not change to it but took the hair shirt again, as he had vowed to the hermit before. Then the people said to him, ‘Sir, now the quest of the Sangrail is achieved for you. You shall see no more.’
‘I thank God,’ he said, ‘for it suffices me. In seeing this, I suppose no man in this world has been more fortunate than I.’
So he put on the hair shirt, and above that a linen shirt, and then a robe of scarlet, fresh and new. When he was so arrayed, all the folk marvelled at his comeliness and knew him for what he was, the good knight.
‘O my lord Sir Lancelot,’ they cried out, ‘be that you?’
And he answered, ‘Truly I am he.’
In the meantime, word came to King Pelles within the castle that the knight thought dead was Sir Lancelot. Then was the king right glad, and gladly they met together. Thus they had much talking, at the end of which the king gave Lancelot sad tidings. The king’s daughter, fair Elaine, was dead.
‘Sir, ’tis the greatest pity,’ said Lancelot, ‘for she was a full beauteous lady, fresh and young. And she bore the best knight that is now on earth, or that ever was since God was born.’
After a time, when they had feasted and had great joy together, Lancelot departed from King Pelles, for he said that he would see the realm of Logris again, which he had not seen in a twelvemonth. He travelled far. And on a bright day in the morn he turned unto Camelot, where he found King Arthur and Queen Guenevere. But more than half of the knights of the Round Table were slain and destroyed. Sir Ector, Sir Gawain and Sir Lionel were three that came home. But of Sir Galahad at that time there were no tidings.
Meanwhile Sir Galahad rode many journeys in vain. Then by adventure he came into a perilous forest where a well boiled with great waves. But as soon as Galahad set his hand to it, it burnt no more. For the heat was a sign of lechery, which was at that time much used. But that heat might not abide his pure virginity. And for this miracle the place was called ever after Galahad’s Well.
Then Sir Galahad went on towards the Maimed King, and after five days he met with Sir Percival. They journeyed on together, traversing the wild ways, through tangles and bushes, till they happed to see Sir Bors riding alone. He was full of gladness to meet them and said, ‘In more than a year and a half I have not lain ten times where men dwell, but only set my head on stones and earth, amid forest and mountain, where God alone was my comfort.’
All rode together many a mile until they came to the Castle of Carbonek. When they were entered into the castle, King Pelles knew them. And then there was great joy, for every man knew well by this arrival that the quest of the Holy Grail was fulfilled.
Therewith it seemed that there came four angels bearing up in a chair a man in the likeness of a bishop, with a cross in his hand. They set him down in the chamber where the Sangrail was, by the table of silver, and on his forehead he showed these letters:
See you here Joseph, the first bishop of Christendom, whom Our Lord succoured in the city of Sarras, in the spiritual place.
The knights marvelled much, for that bishop had been dead more than three hundred years. But the bishop said, ‘O knights, marvel not, for I was sometime an earthly man.’
Then they saw angels bearing candles and a towel, and another carried a spear that bled three drops into a box. The bishop began to say the Mass, even to the consecration, and took an oblation in the likeness of bread. But when he lifted it up, there appeared one like a child with a face as red and bright as any fire. So this child made himself into the bread, and they all saw that the bread was formed of a fleshly man.
With that the priest went to Galahad, and kissed him, and bade him kiss his fellows, Percival and Bors. And anon the priest said, ‘Now, servants of Jesu Christ, you shall be fed at this table with sweet meats that never knights tasted.’
Then the bishop vanished away. They came to the table in great dread, and made their prayers. And when they would dare look up, they saw a man come out of the holy vessel, and this man had all the signs of the passion of Jesu Christ, bleeding all openly from his wounds.
‘My knights, and my servants, and my true children,’ the man said, you are come out of deadly life into spiritual life. Now shall you see a part of my secrets and my hidden things. Now hold and receive this high meat that you have so much desired.’
He took the holy vessel and came to Sir Galahad, who knelt and received his Saviour. And after him so received both his fellows, Bors and Percival. Then said the man to Galahad, ‘Son, know you what I hold betwixt my hands?’
‘Nay, but if you will tell me.’
‘This is the holy dish wherein I ate the lamb at Easter. Now you have seen what you most desired, but not so openly as you shall see it in the city of Sarras, in the spiritual place. Therefore go hence and bear with you this holy vessel, that shall never more be seen in the realm of Logris. And for why? They of this land have turned to evil living. Therefore I shall disinherit them of the honour I have done them. So, you three, go tomorrow unto the sea, and take with you the sword with the strange girdle. But first take the blood of this spear and anoint the Maimed King, that he might be whole.’
He gave them his blessing and vanished away.
Therewith Sir Galahad went to the spear that lay upon the table. He touched the blood with his fingers. Then he ca
me to Pelles, the Maimed King, and anointed his legs with the blood. At once, the king started upon his feet as a whole man and thanked Our Lord for his health. And soon, in recompense to Jesu Christ, he cast himself out of the kingship and took himself to a place of the white monks, where he joined with their fellowship as a full holy man.
Right so departed Galahad, Percival and Bors unto the ship that awaited them, and they found on board the silver table and the Sangrail covered with rich silk of red and gold. Thereto they made great reverence, and fell long time in prayer. In especial, Sir Galahad asked of Our Lord that He might permit His servant to pass out of this world what time it might please him. But when Sir Percival heard this, he said to Galahad, ‘I pray you, of your fellowship, wherefore ask you this?’
‘It is,’ said Galahad, ‘to taste a joy of heart that never earthly man had. When my body is dead, my soul shall see the Blessed Trinity every day, and the majesty of Jesu Christ.’
Then Sir Galahad slept amid the rocking of the waves. When he awaked he looked about him and saw the city of Sarras. And as they came to land they saw the ship wherein Percival had put his sister.
‘Truly,’ said Percival, ‘in God’s name, well has my sister kept her covenant.’
The three knights took her from the boat and brought her unto the palace, and buried her as solemnly as a king’s daughter ought to be.
At the year’s end it befell that the king of Sarras lay sick and felt that he would die. Now, he had done wrong to the three knights that came from afar to his city, for he came from a line of paynims and wished to put those Christians in deep prison. But feeling death upon him he cried them mercy, and they forgave him goodly. And soon he died.
Then by all the assent of the whole city, they made Galahad, the good knight, king of Sarras. When he had beheld the land, he made a chest of gold and precious stones, and in this he placed the silver table and the holy vessel of the Sangrail. And every day early the three fellow knights came before it to make their orisons. One time, on such a day, as they came in the morning light to the holy vessel, they saw a man like a bishop begin to say a Mass of Our Lady. When he came to the sacrament of the Mass, and accomplished it, he called to Sir Galahad, ‘Come forth the servant of Jesu Christ, and you shall see what you have so much desired.’
Then Sir Galahad began to tremble right hard, as the deadly flesh began to behold the spiritual things. He held his hands towards heaven and said, ‘I thank you, for now I see what has been my desire for many a day. Now I would no longer live, if it may please you, Lord.’
Therewith the priest took Our Lord’s body in his hands, and proffered it to Galahad, and he received it most gladly and meekly.
‘Know you what I am?’ said the priest.
‘Nay,’ answered Galahad.
‘I am Joseph, son of Joseph of Arimathea, whom the Lord has sent here to bear you fellowship. I came because you resemble me in two things: you have seen the marvels of the Holy Grail, and you have been a clean maiden, as I have been and am.’
Then Sir Galahad kissed Sir Percival and commended him to God, and likewise he kissed Sir Bors and commended him to God.
‘Fair knights and fellows,’ he said to them, ‘salute me to my lord, Sir Lancelot, my father. When you see him, bid him remember of this unstable world.’
He knelt before the table and made his prayers. And suddenly a multitude of angels bore his departed soul up to heaven.
This his fellow knights saw. Then they saw a hand come from heaven, which caught up the holy vessel and the spear and carried them also up to heaven. And since that time no man has been so hardy as to say that he had seen the Holy Grail.
Lancelot and Guenevere
When Sir Percival and Sir Bors saw Galahad dead, if they had not been good men, they might easily have fallen in despair. As soon as Galahad was buried, Percival retired him to a hermitage and took a religious clothing. And Bors was always with him, but unchanged in habit, for he purposed at some time to go again into the realm of Logris.
Thus for a year and two months Sir Percival lived a full-holy life. Then he passed out of this world, and Bors buried him by his sister and by Galahad in the spiritual city. Then Sir Bors saw that he was in a far country, as far even as Babylon, and he departed from Sarras. So it befell him by good adventure that he came over the sea unto Logris. And once he was on the land he rode as fast as he might to Camelot, where King Arthur was.
Now after the quest of the Holy Grail was fulfilled, all knights that were left alive came again unto the Round Table. Their number was not so many as had been, and so King Arthur and the queen made great joy of this remnant. And in especial they were glad of Sir Bors and Sir Lancelot, for they had been a weary long time away in the search of the Sangrail.
Then Sir Lancelot began to resort unto Queen Guenevere again, and forgot the promise and the perfection that he had made in the quest.
Ever his thoughts were privily on the queen, and so they loved together hotter than they did before. They had such secret close meeting one with the other that many in the court spake of it, and in especial Sir Agravaine, Gawain’s brother, for he was ever open-mouthed.
At this time also many ladies and maidens resorted to Sir Lancelot, beseeching him to be their champion. And Lancelot applied him daily in such matters of right, in the name of Jesu Christ. Thus he tried to withdraw himself somewhat from the company of Queen Guenevere, to eschew the slander and noise. Then the queen waxed angry with him, and sent for him unto her chamber.
‘Sir Lancelot,’ she said, ‘I feel daily that your love begins to slake. You have no joy in my presence, but ever you are out of this court, concerning the quarrels of other ladies. You were never wont to do this beforehand.’
‘Ah madam,’ replied Lancelot, ‘hold me excused. I was but late in the quest of the Sangrail and I saw great mysteries, as much as ever saw sinful man. I may not lightly forget that high service. Also, madam, many speak of our love in this court, as Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred. Madam, I dread them more for your sake than for mine. If you fall in any distress through wilful folly, then there is none other remedy but by me and my blood. For know you well that our boldness may bring us to a great shame and slander, and I am loath to see you dishonoured. That is why I take upon me more ado for maidens than ever I did, so that men should understand my joy is elsewhere than only with you.’
The queen stood still. But when she had heard all this she burst out weeping and might not speak for a while.
At last she spoke sobbing and said, ‘Lancelot, now I see you are a false recreant knight and a common lecher. You love and hold other ladies, and scorn me. I shall never love you more. Be not so hardy as to come into my sight. Right here I discharge you from this court. Upon pain of your head, see me no more.’
Right so Sir Lancelot made ready to depart with such heaviness that scarcely might he sustain himself. He called unto his kin and fellows and told them how the queen had forbad him the court, and so he was in mind to leave his own country. Then Sir Bors advised him to be not hasty, for women will ofttimes sore repent them later. ‘By my advice,’ said Bors, ‘ride to the good hermit Sir Brastias, here beside Windsor, and there abide till I send you word of better things.’
‘You say well, and I will do by your counsel,’ said Lancelot. ‘But, fair brother, I pray you get me the love of my lady Queen Guenevere, if you may.’
Then the noble knight Lancelot departed suddenly, so that none earthly creature but Sir Bors knew where he was become.
When Sir Lancelot was gone, the queen made a privy dinner in London unto the knights of the Round Table, to show outwardly that she had as great joy in other knights as in Lancelot. Sir Gawain and his brethren came there, and twenty others, all good fellows of the Round Table. And among them was Sir Pinel le Savage, cousin unto Sir Lamorak, that good knight slain by Gawain and his brothers.
The queen made a great feast with all manner of dainties, and in especial fruits of apples and pears. For Sir Gawain loved
these well and ate them daily, and whoever feasted Gawain would commonly purvey for him such good fruits.
Now this knight Pinel, because of his kinsman Sir Lamorak, hated Sir Gawain, who was a hot knight by nature. So out of pure envy and hate Sir Pinel poisoned certain apples, hoping thereby to poison Gawain. But it befell by misfortune that a knight called Patrise, cousin unto Sir Mador, took a poisoned apple. When he had eaten it, he swelled till he burst and suddenly fell dead among them. Then every knight leapt from the board in shame and anger. They were aghast at the queen. For since Queen Guenevere had made that dinner, they all had suspicion of her.
‘My lady,’ said Gawain unto her, ‘this dinner was made for me. All folk that know me understand well that I love fruit, and now I see how I had near been slain. Therefore, madam, I dread me lest you will be shamed.’
The queen stood sore abashed and knew not what to say.
‘This shall not be so ended,’ said Sir Mador, ‘for here I have lost a noble knight of my blood. Therefore, upon this despite, I will be revenged to the utterance,’ And there openly he accused the queen of the death of his cousin Sir Patrise.
Then was there so much cry and noise that King Arthur came in to them at the dinner. And ever Sir Mador stood before the king, and ever he accused the queen of that shameful death he called treason.
‘Fair lords,’ said Arthur, ‘I may not have ado in this matter, for I must be a rightful judge. I repent that I may not do battle for my wife, for I deem this deed never came from her. But I suppose some good knight will put his body in jeopardy for my queen rather than she shall be burnt in a wrong quarrel. Therefore, Sir Mador, be not so hasty. Name your day for battle and some good knight shall answer you for her, or else it were to my great shame and to all my court.’
‘My gracious lord,’ replied Mador, ‘be not displeased. There is none knight here but all have great suspicion of the queen. What say you all, my lords?’