‘But hear this, King Arthur: Our Lord sends you word that the vessel which He gave Joseph in prison is here in this land, and is called the Grail. And the Fisher King has fallen into a great sickness and infirmity, and will never be healed – nor will the stone be mended in the place where Perceval sat at the Round Table – until one of the knights seated here has performed enough feats of arms and goodness and prowess. When such a knight is exalted above all other men and is counted the finest knight in the world, when he has achieved so much, then God will guide him to the house of the rich Fisher King. And then, when he has asked what this Grail is for and who is served with it, then, when he has asked that question, the Fisher King will be healed, and the stone will mend beneath the place at the Round Table, and the enchantments which now lie upon the land of Britain will be cast out.’
When the king and those seated at the Round Table heard this they were filled with wonder, and all declared that they would never rest until they had found the house of the rich Fisher King and had asked what was done with the Grail. And Perceval the Welshman vowed that he would not sleep two nights in the same place until he had found it. So said Sir Gawain and Erec and Saigremor and all those seated at the Round Table. And Arthur, hearing this, was filled with sorrow, but nonetheless gave them leave to go.
So Arthur dismissed his court, and some returned to their own lands while others stayed in their lodgings and with the king. Perceval and those of the Round Table prepared to leave, arming themselves in their lodgings. And when they were ready they came, all mounted, before the king and his barons; and Sir Gawain, in the presence of them all, said: ‘My lords, we must go now as the voice of Our Lord instructed, though we don’t know where or in which direction until Our Lord gives us guidance.’
When the king and his barons heard this they began to weep, for they did not expect to see any one of them again. And with that the knights departed.
But they rode together all that day without encountering any adventure; and all the next they rode till the ninth hour,4 when they came upon a cross. They halted there and worshipped the cross and prayed for God’s mercy. Then Perceval said to his companions: ‘Sirs, if we ride together we’re not going to achieve much. Let’s split up and each go our own way.’
‘If we carry on like this,’ said Gawain, ‘we’ll accomplish nothing. Let’s follow Perceval’s advice.’
And they all said: ‘We agree.’
So they went their separate ways, each following the path he fancied most, and so embarked upon the quest of the Grail. But of Gawain and his companions, and the adventures that befell them and the hardships they endured, I can tell you nothing; I will tell you only what matters for the book.
*
So know now that when Perceval left his companions he rode all day without encountering any adventure; nor could he find anywhere to take lodging, and he had to lie that night in the forest. He unharnessed his horse and left him to graze. Perceval did not sleep at all that night, but kept watch over his horse for fear of the wild beasts of the forest. At the crack of dawn next day he resaddled and harnessed his horse and mounted without delay, and rode through the forest all day until the first hour.5 And as he rode he glanced to his left, and saw a knight who had been struck through the body with a lance: he was still impaled upon it; and a sword had cut through his helmet right down to his teeth. Nearby stood a tethered horse and a shield; and beside his body was the most beautiful damsel that Nature ever made. She was grieving more bitterly than any woman has ever done as she lamented the knight’s death, beating her fists and tearing her hair and clawing at her face in such anguish that no man could have seen her without feeling the deepest pity. When Perceval saw her he felt pity indeed, and spurred his horse towards her.
When the damsel saw him she stopped her grieving for a moment and rose to meet him, saying: ‘You are welcome, sir.’
‘Damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘may God give you greater joy than you have now.’
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘joy will never be mine, for I have seen the man killed whom I loved so much, and who valued me so dearly that there was nothing he cherished as much as me.’
‘Damsel,’ Perceval asked her, ‘how long have you been with him?’
‘I’ll tell you, dear sir,’ she replied. ‘It so happened that I was at my father’s house in this forest, and a half day’s journey away there lived a giant. Some while ago he asked my father for my hand but was rejected, so he waged war upon him for a long time, until he heard that my father had gone to the court of the great King Arthur, for the Round Table was to gather at Carduel at Pentecost. Knowing my father had gone to Arthur’s court, he came to our manor house and tore down the door and marched into the hall – finding no-one there to bar his way – and burst into my mother’s chamber and seized me and carried me off. He made me mount his horse – you can see him there – and brought me here and made me dismount, and was about to lie with me. I was terrified, and wept and screamed; and the knight you see here heard my cries and came galloping towards us. The giant didn’t notice him till he was right beside him; then he was enraged and attacked him with all his might. The knight was noble and valiant and fought back as boldly as he could. I tell you, the giant responded fearsomely and dealt him terrible blows; but the knight attacked him with his sword and cut off his head, and hung it over there on the branch of a tree. Then he came to me and helped me to mount, and said he wished me to be his love; I was overjoyed and gladly granted his wish, and said he would always be my lord and love since he’d saved me from an enemy who would have taken my honour and my life.
‘We rode together all yesterday and all this morning till the third hour, 6 when we came upon a pavilion. We rode towards it to see the merrymaking, for such festivity as was taking place in the tent was never seen before. The tent-flap was open so we went inside; but the moment they saw us enter the pavilion their grief was as great as their joy had been! My love was bewildered by their grieving. Then a damsel came and said we should leave the tent at once and flee, for if he stayed a moment longer he’d be sure to die. But he, knowing nothing of their business, refused downright to go, and begged them: ‘Damsels, in God’s name stop this grieving and return to your merrymaking!’
‘“Dear sir,” they replied, “how can we make merry when you’ll die before our eyes? It’s the Proud Knight of the Heath who’s pitched his tent here, and he’ll kill you – you may be sure he’ll have no mercy. Take our advice and go before worse befalls you.”
‘“Sweet damsels,” he said,” I fear no knight.”
‘When they heard this they began to weep. And at that moment a dwarf came riding up on a nag, a whip in his hand, and he was wicked and cruel. His only greeting was to say we were unwelcome! And so we were, judging by his behaviour, for he lashed me across the face with his whip, raising weals, and then pulled the tentpole out of the ground and brought it crashing down on us. My love was furious, but didn’t deign to meddle with the dwarf, who rode away, beating his nag with the whip. Then we left, too, and set off on our way, for we had no more business there; but we hadn’t gone half a league before we saw a knight approaching, heavily armed in red, and galloping at such a speed that the whole forest shook: such a thunderous noise he made that we thought there must be ten! And as he drew near he cried aloud: ‘‘By God, sir knight, you’ll regret bringing down my tent and ruining the celebration! ‘’
‘When my love heard this he turned to face him and they charged at each other; and the knight, who was mighty indeed, struck my love through the body, and then drew his sword and struck him through the helm, as you can see. And when he’d killed him he rode away, without a glance at either me or my horse. I was left all alone in this forest, and no-one can blame me for grieving when I’ve lost the one who saved me from my enemy. There: I’ve given you a true answer to your question.’
And with that she began to weep and lament most bitterly. Perceval felt deeply sorry for her, and said: ‘Damsel, this grieving
will do no good; climb on this mule and lead me to the knight’s pavilion, for I won’t be content till I’ve taken revenge.’
But the damsel replied: ‘Sir, take my advice and don’t go: the knight is huge and mighty, and if he gets the better of you he’ll kill you. Though I can’t deny he’s the man I hate most in all the world.’
And Perceval declared that he would not rest until he had seen the knight. So he helped her to mount, and they made their way together to the pavilion where they heard the damsels’ merrymaking. As soon as they caught sight of Perceval their celebrations ceased and they screamed at him to go, for their lord was coming and Perceval would be sure to die. But he cared little for their words, and rode up to the tent; and no sooner had he entered and begun to speak to them than the foul and hideous dwarf appeared on his nag, whip in hand and beating the nag on the head and crying: ‘Get out of my lord’s pavilion now!’
And he came up to the damsel and lashed her across the neck and hands, and took hold of her palfrey and was about to drive her out of the pavilion; but Perceval, outraged, gripped his lance by the head and dealt the dwarf a mighty blow across the shoulders, sending him crashing from his nag to the ground. But the dwarf jumped up and climbed back on his nag and cried: ‘By God, sir knight, before the day’s out you’re going to suffer!’
And he left Perceval in the pavilion, most distressed about the dwarf’s foul treatment of the damsel. And while they stood there they saw the knight approaching clad all in red arms, and the dwarf with him. When the damsel saw him she was terrified and said: ‘Good sir, that’s the one who killed my love!’
Hearing this, Perceval turned his horse and rode from the pavilion. When the knight saw him he cried: ‘By God, sir knight, you’ll be sorry you hit my dwarf!’
But Perceval, caring nothing for his arrogant words, turned his horse towards him, and they charged at each other full tilt and full of hatred; and the knight, who was strong and brash indeed, struck Perceval such a blow on the shield that he smashed clean through it and the lance-head flashed under his left armpit: had it found flesh it would have killed him. But Perceval, so full of knightly qualities, struck a lance-blow on his shield likewise, and with such ferocity that neither hauberk nor shield – nor anything else he might have worn – could have saved him from feeling the iron head pierce his flesh. And so agonisingly did they collide – bodies and heads and shields together – that they were knocked almost senseless, and their reins and shield-straps flew from their hands and they brought each other down with such a crash that you could have ridden a league before they came to. But as soon as they could they jumped up and took their shields by the straps and drew their swords and came at each other; and the knight, who was full of strength and might, clutched his naked sword and set his shield and attacked Perceval in a fury. Perceval thrust out his shield, and the knight struck it so fiercely that he split it right down to the boss; the blow was so mighty that it sent flowers and gemstones7 flying to the ground: it would surely have wounded him, but the sword turned in his hand and was deflected. This inspired Perceval to greater strength and courage, and he came at the knight aiming a blow at his helm; the knight thrust out his shield to parry it, but such was Perceval’s rage and hatred that he smashed clean through and gave him a terrible wound in the left shoulder, the force of the blow nearly bringing him to the ground. He attacked him again, and mightily, but the knight fought back like a man who believed himself invincible. But Perceval pressed him so hard that he had to retreat across the field, unable to stand his ground, until Perceval had his helmet off and was about to cut off his head. Then the knight begged for mercy in God’s name, that he might spare his life, and he would accept imprisonment wherever Perceval might decree. When Perceval heard his plea for mercy he did not deign to touch him further but drew back, and told him that he must swear upon holy relics that he and his damsels would declare themselves the prisoners of King Arthur. He made him promise also to take the damsel whose sweetheart he had killed to Arthur’s court and give her into the keeping of the king’s nephew Gawain – who would be sure to treat her as she would wish – or at least take her back to her father’s house.
‘I’ll do so willingly, sir,’ the knight replied. ‘But tell me now, in whose name shall I declare myself a prisoner when I come to the court of the great King Arthur?’
‘In the name of Perceval the Welshman,’ he replied, ‘who has embarked upon the quest of the Grail. But I forgot to say that if you don’t find Sir Gawain, give the damsel to the queen, for indeed, I don’t think Gawain will be there.’
‘Sir,’ said the knight, ‘I’ll do exactly as you wish. But before we go our ways, please come and eat with me: then I’ll be all the happier to go where you ask.’
Perceval was famished and said he would gladly do so, and so they returned to the pavilion, where the knight commanded the damsels to give their guest a kind welcome. They did exactly as he asked, and dressed him in a rich mantle. Then the tables were set and they sat down to dine, and there was plenty to eat indeed. When dinner was done they rose, and Perceval called for his arms; they were brought to him and he armed and mounted. The knight did likewise, and bade his damsels mount and the damsel, too, whom Perceval had brought there. And I tell you, she grieved deeply when she took her leave of Perceval, and gave the impression that she would have preferred his company to the knight’s; but that could not be, for Perceval had his mind fixed on other matters.
And so they parted; and the knight rode on until he came to the court of the great King Arthur. Arthur was in his main hall; and with him was his queen, who was most beautiful, and many fine knights who had come to his court. The knight sent by Perceval came into the hall and greeted the king and queen and all the barons, and said:
‘Sire, I surrender to you as your prisoner – and these damsels likewise – and submit to your will in the name of Perceval the Welshman. And he entrusts the damsel you see here to Sir Gawain; if he’s not here he wishes the queen to receive her – she’s of very noble parentage. And for himself, he sends greetings to you all.’
King Arthur was overjoyed at this; and he made the knight a member of his household and declared him no longer a prisoner. And the queen took the damsel, welcoming her with honour on behalf of her cousin Sir Gawain. And so it was that the knight stayed with King Arthur, and he came to be much loved at the court.
*
Meanwhile Perceval, after leaving the knight, rode on all day without encountering any adventure; evening was near, and he prayed to Our Lord to send him somewhere to lodge, for he had had poor lodging the night before. Then he looked ahead, and through the tangled forest he saw the tip of a tall and handsome tower appear: he was filled with joy and rode swiftly towards it. And when he arrived he saw that it was the most beautiful castle in the world, and the drawbridge was down and the gate wide open: he rode straight in. He came to the mounting-block outside the hall, dismounted, tethered his horse to a ring and climbed the hall steps, fully armed, sword at his side. But when he entered the hall he looked high and low and saw neither man nor woman; he came to a chamber and went inside and looked everywhere, but there was no-one to be seen.
He returned to the hall, very puzzled, and said: ‘By God, this is strange: by the way the hall is strewn with rushes I can tell it’s not long since people were here, but now I can see no-one.’
But then, as he came to the middle of the hall, he noticed, underneath the windows, a chessboard of fine silver, and chessmen upon it of white and black ivory, set up ready for a game. Seeing these handsome chessmen, Perceval walked up and gazed at them for a long while. After looking at them closely he began to handle them, and moved one of them forward on the board. And a piece made a move in reply. Perceval was amazed, and moved another man. Again a piece responded. When Perceval saw this he sat down and began to play; he played, indeed, until the board had checkmated him three times. Perceval was taken aback, and said: ‘By the faith I owe Our Lord, this is amazing! I thought I w
as fairly good at this game, but it’s checkmated me three times! I’m damned if it’s ever going to mate and disgrace me or any other knight again!’
And he swept the chessmen into the skirt of his mailcoat and strode up to the window, intending to throw them into the water that ran below. But just as he was about to let them go, a damsel cried out from a window above him, saying: ‘Knight, your heart has stirred you to great wickedness if you mean to throw those chessmen in the water! Don’t do it: it would be very wrong.’
‘Damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘come down here and I won’t throw any.’
‘I shan’t come,’ she said. ‘Just do the courteous thing and put them back on the board.’
‘What do you mean, damsel?’ said Perceval. ‘You want me to do you a favour, but you won’t do one for me? By Saint Nicholas, unless you come down I’m throwing them out!’
Hearing this, the damsel said: ‘Put the chessmen back, sir knight: I’ll come down rather than have you throw them.’
Perceval was delighted, and returned to the board and put the pieces back; and they set themselves in place again more perfectly than any man could ever have done. Then the damsel entered through a chamber door, and fully ten girls with her; and four servants, too, who were well trained, for as soon as they saw Perceval they ran forward to help him from his armour: they took his helmet from his head, his boots from his feet and his mailcoat from his back, leaving him entirely undressed – and I tell you, he was the most handsome knight ever known. And two boys ran and stabled his horse, while a damsel brought him a short mantle of rich scarlet cloth and dressed him, and then led him to the chamber with the young lady of the house who seemed very happy to welcome him – and I assure you, she was the most beautiful damsel in the world. Perceval fell deeply in love with her at first sight, and said to himself that he would be mad not to seek her love, being alone with her as he was. And so he did, wooing her passionately in many ways, until the damsel said:
Merlin and the Grail Page 19