So there came a good knight and said to these three knights, ‘If ye will come in tonight and take such harbour as here is, ye shall be right welcome; and we shall assure you by the faith of our bodies and as we be true knights, to leave you in such state tomorrow as here we find you, without any falsehood. And as soon as ye know of the custom, we dare say we will accord.’
‘Therefore for God’s love,’ said the gentlewoman, ‘go we thither, and spare not for me.’
‘Well, go we,’ said Sir Galahad; and so they entered into the castle, and when they were alit they made great joy of them. So within a while the three knights asked the custom of the castle and wherefore it was used.
[11]
‘Sir, what it is we will say you the sooth. There is in this castle a gentlewoman, which both we and this castle is hers, and many other. So it befell many years ago, there happened on her a malady; and when she had lain a great while she fell into a mesel,* and no leech could remedy her. But at the last an old man said and she might have a dish full of blood of a maid, and a clean virgin in will and in work, and a king’s daughter, that blood should be her health, for to anoint her withal. And for this thing was this custom made.’
‘Now,’ said Sir Percival’s sister, ‘fair knights, I see well that this gentlewoman is but dead without help, and therefore let me bleed.’
‘Certes,’ said Sir Galahad, ‘and ye bleed so much ye must die.’
‘Truly,’ said she, ‘and I die for the health of her I shall get me great worship and soul’s health, and worship to my lineage; and better is one harm than twain. And therefore there shall no more battle be, but tomorrow I shall yield you your custom of this castle.’
And then there was made great joy over there was made before, for else had there been mortal war upon the morn; notwithstanding she would none other, whether they would or would not. So that night were these three fellows eased with the best; and on the morn they heard Mass, and Sir Percival’s sister bade them bring forth the sick lady. So she was brought forth, which was full evil at ease.*
Then said she, ‘Who shall let me blood?’
So one came forth and let her blood, and she bled so much that the dish was full. Then she lifted up her hand and blessed her, and said to this lady, ‘Madam, I am come to my death for to heal you, therefore for God’s love pray for me.’
And with that she fell in a swoon. Then Sir Galahad and his two fellows started up to her and lifted her up and staunched her blood, but she had bled so much that she might not live.
So when she was awaked, she said, ‘Fair brother Sir Percival, I die for the healing of this lady. And when I am dead, I require you that ye bury me not in this country, but as soon as I am dead put me in a boat at the next haven, and let me go as adventure will lead me.* And as soon as ye three come to the city of Sarras, there to achieve the Holy Grail, ye shall find me under a tower arrived; and there bury me in the spiritual palace. For I shall tell you for truth, there shall Sir Galahad be buried, and ye both, in the same place.’
When Sir Percival understood these words, he granted her all weepingly. And then said a voice unto them, ‘Lords, tomorrow at the hour of prime ye three shall depart each from other, till the adventure bring you unto the Maimed King.’
Then asked she her Saviour;* and as soon as she had received Him the soul departed from the body. So the same day was the lady healed, when she was anointed with her blood.
Then Sir Percival made a letter of all that she had helped them as in strange adventures, and put it in her right hand; and so laid her in a barge, and covered it with black silk. And so the wind arose and drove the barge from the land, and all manner of knights beheld it till it was out of their sight. Then they drew all to the castle, and forthwith there fell a sudden tempest of thunder and lightning and rain, as all the earth would have broken. So half the castle turned upside down. So it passed evensong or the tempest were ceased.
Then they saw before them a knight armed and wounded hard in the body and in the head, which said, ‘Ah, good Lord, succour me, for now it is need.’
So after this knight there came another knight and a dwarf, which cried to them afar, ‘Stand, ye may not escape!’
Then the wounded knight held up his hands, and prayed God that he might not die in such tribulation.
‘Truly,’ said Sir Galahad, ‘I shall succour him, for His sake that he calleth on.’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘I shall do it, for it is not for you, for he is but one knight.’
‘Sir,’ said he, ‘I grant you.’
So Sir Bors took his sword and commended him to God, and rode after to rescue the wounded knight.
Now turn we to Sir Galahad and to Sir Percival.
[12]
Now turneth the tale unto Sir Galahad and Sir Percival, that were in a chapel all night in their prayers for to save them Sir Bors. So on the morrow they dressed them in their harness toward the castle, to wit what was fallen of them therein. And when they came there, they found neither man nor woman that he was not dead by the vengeance of Our Lord. So with that they heard a voice that said, ‘This vengeance is for blood-shedding of maidens.’
Also they found at the end of the castle a churchyard, and therein they might see sixty fair tombs; and that place was fair, and so delectable that it seemed them there had been no tempest. And there lay the bodies of all the good maidens which were martyred for the sick lady. Also they found there names of each lady, and of what blood they were come of; and all were of kings’ blood, and eleven of them were kings’ daughters.
Then they departed and went into a forest.
‘Now,’ said Sir Percival unto Sir Galahad, ‘we must part; and therefore pray we Our Lord that we may meet together in short time.’
Then they did off their helms and kissed together, and sore wept at their departing.
Now turneth this tale unto Sir Lancelot.
Of Sir Lancelot
[13]
Now saith the tale, that when Sir Lancelot was come to the water of Mortaise, as it is rehearsed before, he was in great peril. And so he laid him down and slept, and took the adventure that God would send him.
So when he was asleep there came a vision unto him, that said, ‘Sir Lancelot, arise up and take thine armour, and enter into the first ship that thou shalt find.’
And when he heard these words he started up and saw great clearness about him; and then he lifted up his hand and blessed him. And so he took his arms and made him ready; and at the last he came by a strand, and found a ship without sail or oar. And as soon as he was within the ship, there he had the most sweetness that ever he felt, and he was fulfilled with all things that he thought on or desired. Then he said, ‘Sweet Father, Jesu Christ, I wot not what joy I am in, for this joy passeth all earthly joys that ever I was in.’
And so in this joy he laid him down to the shipboard, and slept till day. And when he awoke he found there a fair bed, and therein lying a gentlewoman dead, which was Sir Percival’s sister. And as Sir Lancelot avised her,* he espied in her right hand a writ which he read, that told him all the adventures ye have heard before, and of what lineage she was come.
So with this gentlewoman Sir Lancelot was a month and more. If ye would ask how he lived, He that fed the children of Israel with manna in the desert, so was he fed;* for every day when he had said his prayers he was sustained with the grace of the Holy Ghost.
And so on a night he went to play him by the water’s side, for he was somewhat weary of the ship. And then he listened and heard a horse come, and one riding upon him; and when he came nigh, him seemed a knight. And so he let him pass and went there as the ship was; and there he alit, and took the saddle and the bridle and put the horse from him, and so went into the ship. And then Sir Lancelot dressed him* unto the ship and said, ‘Sir, ye be welcome.’
And he answered and saluted him again, and said, ‘Sir, what is your name? For much my heart giveth unto you.’
‘Truly,’ said he, ‘my name is
Sir Lancelot du Lake.’
‘Sir,’ said he, ‘then be ye welcome, for ye were the beginner of me in this world.’
‘Ah, sir, are ye Sir Galahad?’
‘Yea, forsooth.’
And so he kneeled down and asked him his blessing, and after took off his helm and kissed him. And there was great joy betwixt them, for no tongue can tell what joy either made of other. And there each of them told other the adventures that had befallen them sith that they departed from the court.
And anon as Sir Galahad saw the gentlewoman dead in the bed, he knew her well, and said great worship of her, that she was one of the best maidens living, and it was great pity of her death. But when Sir Lancelot heard how the marvellous sword was gotten, and who made it, and all the marvels rehearsed before, then he prayed Sir Galahad that he would show him the sword; and so he brought it forth, and kissed the pommel and the hilts and the scabbard.
‘Truly,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘never erst knew I of so high adventures done, and so marvellous strange.’*
So dwelled Sir Lancelot and Sir Galahad within that ship half a year, and served God daily and nightly with all their power. And often they arrived in isles far from folk, where there repaired none but wild beasts, and there they found many strange adventures and perilous which they brought to an end; but for those adventures were with wild beasts, and not in the quest of the Sangrail, therefore the tale maketh here no mention thereof, for it would be too long to tell of all those adventures that befell them.
[14]
So after, on a Monday, it befell that they arrived in the edge of a forest before a cross; and then saw they a knight armed all in white, and was richly horsed, and led in his right hand a white horse. And so he came to the ship and saluted the two knights in the high Lord’s behalf, and said unto Sir Galahad, ‘Sir, ye have been long enough with your father. Therefore come out of the ship, and take this horse and go where the adventures shall lead you in the quest of the Sangrail.’
Then he went to his father and kissed him sweetly, and said, ‘Fair sweet father, I wot not when I shall see you more till I see the body of Jesu Christ.’
‘Now for God’s love,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘pray to the Father that He hold me still in His service.’
And so he took his horse; and there they heard a voice that said, ‘Each of you think for to do well, for nevermore shall one see the other of you before the dreadful day of doom.’
‘Now, my son, Sir Galahad, sith we shall depart and neither of us see other more, I pray to that High Father, conserve me and you both.’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Galahad, ‘no prayer availeth so much as yours.’
And therewith Sir Galahad entered into the forest; and the wind arose, and drove Sir Lancelot more than a month through the sea, where he slept but little, but prayed to God that he might see some tidings of the Sangrail.
So it befell on a night, at midnight, he arrived before a castle on the back side, which was rich and fair, and there was a postern opened toward the sea, and was open without any keeping, save two lions kept the entry; and the moon shone right clear. Anon Sir Lancelot heard a voice that said, ‘Lancelot, go out of this ship and enter into the castle, where thou shalt see a great part of thy desire.’
Then he ran to his arms, and so armed him, and so went to the gate and saw the lions; then set he hand to his sword and drew it. So there came a dwarf suddenly, and smote him on the arm so sore that the sword fell out of his hand. Then heard he a voice say, ‘O man of evil faith and poor belief, wherefore trustest thou more on thy harness than in thy Maker? For He might more avail thee than thine armour in that service that thou art set in.’
Then said Sir Lancelot, ‘Fair Father Jesu Christ, I thank thee of Thy great mercy that Thou reprovest me of my misdeed! Now see I that Thou holdest me for one of Thy servants.’
Then took he his sword again and put it up in his sheath, and made a cross in his forehead, and came to the lions; and they made semblant to do him harm. Notwithstanding he passed by them without hurt, and entered into the castle to the chief fortress. And there were they all at rest.
[15]
Then Sir Lancelot entered so armed, for he found no gate nor door but it was open. And at the last he found a chamber whereof the door was shut, and he set his hand thereto to have opened it, but he might not. Then he enforced him mickle* to undo the door.
Then he listened and heard a voice which sang so sweetly that it seemed no earthly thing; and him thought the voice said, ‘Joy and honour be to the Father of Heaven.’
Then Lancelot kneeled down before the chamber door, for well wist he that there was the Sangrail within that chamber. Then said he, ‘Fair sweet Father, Jesu Christ, if ever I did thing that pleased Thee, Lord, for Thy pity have me not in despite for my sins done beforetime, and that Thou show me something of that I seek.’
And with that he saw the chamber door open, and there came out a great clearness, that the house was as bright as all the torches of the world had been there. So came he to the chamber door, and would have entered. And anon a voice said unto him, ‘Sir Lancelot, flee, and enter not, for thou ought not to do it; and if thou enter thou shalt forthink it.’ Then he withdrew him aback right heavy.
Then looked he up into the midst of the chamber, and saw a table of silver, and the holy vessel covered with red samite, and many angels about it, whereof one held a candle of wax burning, and the other held a cross and the ornaments of an altar. And before the holy vessel he saw a good man clothed as a priest; and it seemed that he was at the sacring* of the Mass. And it seemed to Sir Lancelot that above the priest’s hands were three men, whereof the two put the youngest by likeness between the priest’s hands; and so he lifted them up right high, and it seemed to show so to the people.* And then Sir Lancelot marvelled not a little, for him thought the priest was so greatly charged of the figure that him seemed that he should fall to the earth. And when he saw none about him that would help him, then came he to the door a great pace, and said, ‘Fair Father Jesu Christ, take it not for no sin though I help the good man which hath great need of help.’
Right so entered he into the chamber, and came toward the table of silver; and when he came nigh it, he felt a breath that him thought it was intermeddled with fire, which smote him so sore in the visage that him thought it burnt his visage; and therewith he fell to the earth and had no power to arise, as he that had lost the power of his body and his hearing and sight. Then felt he many hands which took him up and bore him out of the chamber door, and left him there seeming dead to all people.
So upon the morrow when it was fair day, they within were risen, and found Sir Lancelot lying before the chamber door. All they marvelled how that he came in; and so they looked upon him, and felt his pulse to wit whether there were any life in him. And so they found life in him, but he might not stand nor stir no member that he had. And so they took him by every part of the body and bore him into a chamber and laid him in a rich bed far from folk, and so he lay four days. Then one said he was alive, and another said nay, he was dead.
‘In the name of God,’ said an old man, ‘I do you verily to wit he is not dead, but he is as full of life as the strongest of us all. Therefore I rede you all that he be well kept till God send life in him again.’
[16]
So in such manner they kept Sir Lancelot four and twenty days and all so many nights, that ever he lay still as a dead man; and at the twenty-fifth day befell him after midday that he opened his eyes. And when he saw folk he made great sorrow, and said, ‘Why have ye awaked me?—for I was more at ease than I am now. Ah, Jesu Christ, who might be so blessed that might see openly Thy great marvels of secretness there where no sinner may be?’
‘What have ye seen?’ said they about him.
‘I have seen,’ said he, ‘so great marvels that no tongue may tell, and more than any heart can think; and had not my sin been beforetime, else I had seen much more.’
Then they told him how he had lain there four
and twenty days and nights. Then him thought it was punishment for the four and twenty years that he had been a sinner, wherefore Our Lord put him in penance the four and twenty days and nights. Then looked Lancelot before him, and saw the hair* which he had borne nigh a year; for that he forthought him right much that he had broken his promise unto the hermit, which he had vowed to do.
Then they asked how it stood with him.
‘For sooth,’ said he, ‘I am whole of body, thanked be Our Lord; therefore, for God’s love tell me where I am.’ Then said they all that he was in the Castle of Carbonek.
Therewith came a gentlewoman and brought him a shirt of small* linen cloth; but he changed not there, but took the hair to him again.
‘Sir,’ said they, ‘the quest of the Sangrail is achieved now right in you, and never shall ye see of the Sangrail more than ye have seen.’
‘Now I thank God,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘for His great mercy of that I have seen, for it sufficeth me. For as I suppose no man in this world hath lived better than I have done to achieve that I have done.’
And therewith he took the hair and clothed him in it, and above that he put a linen shirt, and after that a robe of scarlet, fresh and new. And when he was so arrayed they marvelled all, for they knew him well that he was Sir Lancelot, the good knight. And then they said all, ‘Ah, my lord Sir Lancelot, ye be he!’
And he said, ‘Yea, truly I am he.’
Then came word to the King Pelles that the knight that had lain so long dead was the noble knight Sir Lancelot. Then was the king right glad, and went to see him; and when Sir Lancelot saw him come he dressed him against him,* and then made the king great joy of him. And there the king told him tidings how his fair daughter was dead. Then Sir Lancelot was right heavy, and said, ‘Me forthinketh of the death of your daughter, for she was a full fair lady, fresh and young, and well I wot she bore the best knight that is now on earth, or that ever was since God was born.’*
Le Morte Darthur: The Winchester Manuscript (Oxford World's Classics) Page 50