And therewith he kneeled down before the table and made his prayers; and so suddenly departed his soul to Jesu Christ, and a great multitude of angels bore it up to heaven even in the sight of his two fellows.
Also these two knights saw come from heaven a hand, but they saw not the body. And so it came right to the vessel and took it and the spear, and so bore it up to heaven. And sithen was there never man so hardy to say that he had seen the Sangrail.
[23]
So when Sir Percival and Sir Bors saw Sir Galahad dead, they made as much sorrow as ever did men; and if they had not been good men they might lightly have fallen in despair. And so people of the country and city, they were right heavy. But so he was buried; and as soon as he was buried Sir Percival yielded him* to a hermitage out of the city, and took religious clothing. And Sir Bors was always with him, but he changed never his secular clothing, for that he purposed him to go again into the realm of Logris.
Thus a year and two months lived Sir Percival in the hermitage a full holy life, and then passed out of the world. Then Sir Bors let bury him by his sister and by Sir Galahad in the spiritualities.*
So when Sir Bors saw that he was in so far countries as in the parts of Babylon, he departed from the city of Sarras, and armed him and came to the sea, and entered into a ship. And so it befell him by good adventure he came unto the realm of Logris; and so he rode apace till he came to Camelot, where the King was. And then was there made great joy of him in all the court, for they weened he had been lost forasmuch as he had been so long out of the country.
And when they had eaten, the King made great clerks to come before him, for cause they should chronicle of the high adventures of the good knights. So when Sir Bors had told him of the high adventures of the Sangrail such as had befallen him and his three fellows, which were Sir Lancelot, Percival, and Sir Galahad and himself, then Sir Lancelot told the adventures of the Sangrail that he had seen. And all this was made in great books, and put up in almeries* at Salisbury.
And anon Sir Bors said to Sir Lancelot, ‘Sir Galahad, your own son, saluted you by me, and after you my lord King Arthur and all the whole court, and so did Sir Percival; for I buried them both with mine own hands in the city of Sarras. Also, Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad prayed you to remember of this unsure world, as ye behight* him when ye were together more than half a year.’
‘This is true,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘Now I trust to God his prayer shall avail me.’ Then Sir Lancelot took Sir Bors in his arms and said, ‘Cousin, ye are right welcome to me, for ye and I shall never depart asunder whilst our lives may last.’
‘Sir,’ said he, ‘as ye will, so will I.’*
Thus endeth the tale of the Sangrail, that was briefy drawn out of French, which is a tale chronicled for one of the truest and of the holiest that is in this world; by Sir Thomas Malory, knight. O blessed Jesu, help him through His might* Amen.
THE TALE OF SIR LANCELOT AND QUEEN GUENIVERE
[XVIII.I]
So after the quest of the Sangrail was fulfilled, and all knights that were left alive were come home again unto the Table Round, as the Book of the Sangrail maketh mention, then was there great joy in the court; and in especial King Arthur and Queen Guenivere made great joy of the remnant that were come home. And passing glad was the King and the Queen of Sir Lancelot and of Sir Bors, for they had been passing long away in the quest of the Sangrail.
Then, as the book saith, Sir Lancelot began to resort unto Queen Guenivere again, and forgot the promise and the perfection that he made in the quest. For, as the book saith, had not Sir Lancelot been in his privy thoughts and in his mind so set inwardly to the Queen as he was in seeming outward to God, there had no knight passed him in the quest of the Sangrail, but ever his thoughts were privily on the Queen. And so they loved together more hotter than they did beforehand, and had many such privy draughts together that many in the court spoke of it, and in especial Sir Agravain, Sir Gawain’s brother, for he was ever open-mouthed.
So it befell that Sir Lancelot had many resorts of ladies and damosels that daily resorted unto him to be their champion: in all such matters of right Sir Lancelot applied him daily to do for the pleasure of Our Lord Jesu Christ. And ever as much as he might he withdrew him from the company of Queen Guenivere for to eschew the slander and noise, wherefore the Queen waxed wroth with Sir Lancelot.
So on a day she called him to her chamber, and said thus ‘Sir Lancelot, I see and feel daily that thy love beginneth to slacken, for ye have no joy to be in my presence, but ever ye are out of this court. And quarrels and matters ye have nowadays for ladies, maidens, and gentlewomen, more than ever ye were wont to have beforehand.’
‘Ah, madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘in this ye must hold me excused, for divers causes. One is, I was but late in the quest of the Sangrail, and I thank God of His great mercy, and never of my deserving, that I saw in that my quest as much as ever saw any sinful man living, and so was it told me. And if that I had not had my privy thoughts to return to your love again as I do, I had seen as great mysteries as ever saw my son Sir Galahad, Percival, or Sir Bors. And therefore, madam, I was but late in that quest, and wit you well, madam, it may not be yet lightly forgotten the high service in whom I did my diligent labour.
‘Also, madam, wit you well that there be many men speak of our love in this court and have you and me greatly in await,* as this Sir Agravain and Sir Mordred. And madam, wit you well I dread them more for your sake than for any fear I have of them myself, for I may happen to escape and rid myself in a great need, where, madam, ye must abide all that will be said unto you. And then if that ye fall in any distress through wilful folly, then is there no other help but by me and my blood.* And wit you well, madam, the boldness of you and me will bring us to shame and slander; and that were me loath to see you dishonoured. And that is the cause I take upon me more for to do for damosels and maidens than ever I did before, that men should understand my joy and my delight is my pleasure to have ado for damosels and maidens.’
[2]
All this while the Queen stood still and let Sir Lancelot say what he would. And when he had all said she burst out weeping, and so she sobbed and wept a great while. And when she might speak she said, ‘Sir Lancelot, now I well understand that thou art a false recreant knight and a common lecher, and lovest and boldest other ladies, and of me thou hast disdain and scorn. For wit thou well, now I understand thy falsehood I shall never love thee more. And look thou be never so hardy to come in my sight; and right here I discharge thee this court, that thou never come within it, and I forfend* thee my fellowship, and upon pain of thy head that thou see me nevermore.’
Right so Sir Lancelot departed with great heaviness, that uneath he might sustain himself for great dole-making. Then he called Sir Bors, Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel, and told them how the Queen had forfended him the court, and so he was in will to depart into his own country.
‘Fair sir,’ said Sir Bors de Ganis, ‘ye shall not depart out of this land by my advice; for ye must remember you what ye are, and renowned the most noblest knight of the world, and many great matters ye have in hand. And women in their hastiness will do oftentimes that, after, them sore repenteth. And therefore by my advice ye shall take your horse and ride to the good hermit here beside Windsor, that sometime was a good knight: his name is Sir Brastias. And there shall ye abide till that I send you word of better tidings.’
‘Brother,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘wit you well I am full loath to depart out of this realm, but the Queen hath defended me so highly,* that me seemeth she will never be my good lady as she hath been.’
‘Say ye never so,’ said Sir Bors, ‘for many times or this she hath been wroth with you, and after that she was the first repented it.’
‘Ye say well,’ said Lancelot, ‘for now will I do by your counsel, and take my horse and my harness and ride to the hermit Sir Brastias; and there will I repose me till I hear some manner of tidings from you. But, fair brother, in that ye can, get
me the love of my lady Queen Guenivere.’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘ye need not to move me of such matters, for well ye wot I will do what I may to please you.’
And then Sir Lancelot departed suddenly, and no creature wist where he was become but Sir Bors. So when Sir Lancelot was departed, the Queen outward made no manner of sorrow in showing, to none of his blood nor to no other; but wit ye well, inwardly, as the book saith, she took great thought, but she bore it out with a proud countenance as though she felt no thought nor danger.
[3]
So the Queen let make a privy dinner in London unto the knights of the Round Table, and all was for to show outward that she had as great joy in all other knights of the Round Table as she had in Sir Lancelot. So there was all only at that dinner Sir Gawain and his brethren, that is for to say Sir Agravain, Sir Gaheris, Sir Gareth, and Sir Mordred. Also there was Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Blamor de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lionel, Sir Palomides, Sir Safer his brother, Sir La Cote Mai Taillé, Sir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Brandiles, Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir Mador de la Porte, Sir Patrise (a knight of Ireland), Sir Aliduke, Sir Ascamore, and Sir Pinel le Savage, which was cousin to Sir Lamorak de Gales, the good knight that Sir Gawain and his brethren slew by treason.
And so these four and twenty knights should dine with the Queen in a privy place by themselves, and there was made a great feast of all manner of dainties. But Sir Gawain had a custom that he used daily at meat and at supper, that he loved well all manner of fruit, and in especial apples and pears. And therefore whosoever dined or feasted Sir Gawain would commonly purvey for good fruit for him, and so did the Queen: for to please Sir Gawain she let purvey for him all manner of fruit, for Sir Gawain was a passing hot knight of nature.* And this Sir Pinel hated Sir Gawain because of his kinsman Sir Lamorak’s death; and therefore for pure envy and hate, Sir Pinel empoisoned certain apples for to empoison Sir Gawain.
So this was well yet unto the end of meat; and so it befell by misfortune a good knight, Sir Patrise, which was cousin unto Sir Mador de la Porte, took an apple, for he was enchafed with heat of wine, and it mishapped him to take a poisoned apple. And when he had eaten it he swelled sore till he brast, and there Sir Patrise fell down suddenly dead among them.
Then every knight leapt from the board ashamed and enraged for wrath out of their wits, for they wist not what to say; considering Queen Guenivere made the feast and dinner, they had all suspicion unto her.
‘My lady, the Queen,’ said Sir Gawain, ‘madam, wit you that this dinner was made for me and my fellows. And for all folks that know my condition understand that I love well fruit, now I see well I had near been slain. Therefore, madam, I dread me lest ye will be shamed.’
Then the Queen stood still, and was so sore abashed that she wist not what to say.
‘This shall not so be ended,’ said Sir Mador de la Porte, ‘for here have I lost a full noble knight of my blood; and therefore upon this shame and despite I will be revenged to the utterance.’* And there openly Sir Mador appealed* the Queen of the death of his cousin Sir Patrise.
Then stood they all still, that none would speak a word against him; for they all had great suspicion unto the Queen because she let make that dinner. And the Queen was so abashed that she could no other ways do, but wept so heartily that she fell in a swoon. So with this noise and cry came to them King Arthur, and when he wist of the trouble he was a passing heavy man.
[4]
And ever Sir Mador stood still before the King and appealed the Queen of treason; for the custom was such at that time that all manner of shameful death was called treason.
‘Fair lords,’ said King Arthur, ‘me repenteth of this trouble, but the case is so I may not have ado in this matter, for I must be a rightful judge.* And that repenteth me that I may not do battle for my wife, for, as I deem, this deed came never by her. And therefore I suppose she shall not be all distained,* but that some good knight shall put his body in jeopardy for my queen rather than she should be burnt in a wrong quarrel. And therefore, Sir Mador, be not so hasty, for pardieu it may happen she shall not be all friendless. And therefore desire thou thy day of battle, and she shall purvey her of some good knight that shall answer you; or else it were to me great shame, and to all my court.’
‘My gracious lord,’ said Sir Mador, ‘ye must hold me excused, for though ye be our king, in that degree ye are but a knight as we are, and ye are sworn unto knighthood as well as we be; and therefore I beseech you that ye be not displeased, for there is none of the four and twenty knights that were bidden to this dinner but all they have great suspicion unto the Queen. What say ye all, my lords?’ said Sir Mador.
Then they answered by and by and said they could not excuse the Queen; for why she made the dinner, and either it must come by her or by her servants.
‘Alas,’ said the Queen, ‘I made this dinner for a good intent, and never for no evil; so Almighty Jesu me help in my right, as I was never purposed to do such evil deeds, and that I report me unto* God.’
‘My lord the King,’ said Sir Mador, ‘I require you as ye be a righteous king, give me my day that I may have justice.’
‘Well,’ said the King, ‘this day fifteen days, look thou be ready armed on horseback in the meadow beside Winchester. And if it so fall that there be any knight to encounter against you, there may you do your best, and God speed the right. And if it so befall that there be no knight ready at that day, then must my queen be burned; and there she shall be ready to have her judgement.’
‘I am answered,’ said Sir Mador. And every knight yode where him liked.
So when the King and the Queen were together, the King asked the Queen how this case befell. Then the Queen said, ‘Sir, as Jesu be my help,’ she wist not how nor in what manner.
‘Where is Sir Lancelot?’ said King Arthur. ‘And he were here he would not grudge to do battle for you.’
‘Sir,’ said the Queen, ‘I wot not where he is, but his brother and his kinsmen deem that he be not within this realm.’
‘That me repenteth,’ said King Arthur, ‘for and he were here he would soon stint this strife. Well, then, I will counsel you’, said the King, ‘that ye go unto Sir Bors and pray him for to do battle for you for Sir Lancelot’s sake; and upon my life he will not refuse you. For well I see,’ said the King, ‘that none of the four and twenty knights that were at your dinner where Sir Patrise was slain will do battle for you, nor none of them will say well of you; and that shall be great slander to you in this court. But now I miss Sir Lancelot, for and he were here he would soon put me in my heart’s ease. What aileth you,’ said the King, ‘that ye cannot keep Sir Lancelot upon your side? For wit you well,’ said the King, ‘who that hath Sir Lancelot upon his party hath the most man of worship in this world upon his side. Now go your way,’ said the King unto the Queen, ‘and require Sir Bors to do battle for you for Sir Lancelot’s sake.’
[5]
So the Queen departed from the King, and sent for Sir Bors into the chamber; and when he came she besought him of succour.
‘Madam,’ said he, ‘what would ye that I did? For I may not with my worship have ado in this matter, because I was at the same dinner, for dread that any of those knights would have me in suspicion. Also, Madam,’ said Sir Bors, ‘now miss ye Sir Lancelot, for he would not have failed you in your right nor in your wrong, for when ye have been in right great dangers he hath succoured you. And now ye have driven him out of this country, by whom ye and all we were daily worshipped*—therefore, madam, I marvel how ye dare for shame to require me to do any thing for you, in so much ye have chased him out of your court by whom we were up borne and honoured.’
‘Alas, fair knight,’ said the Queen, ‘I put me wholly in your grace, and all that is amiss I will amend as ye will counsel me.’ And therewith she kneeled down upon both her knees and besought Sir Bors to have mercy upon her, ‘Or else I shall have a shameful death, and thereto I ne
ver offended.’
Right so came King Arthur, and found the Queen kneeling; and then Sir Bors took her up and said, ‘Madam, ye do me great dishonour.’
‘Ah, gentle knight,’ said the King, ‘have mercy upon my queen, courteous knight, for I am now certain she is untruly defamed. And therefore, courteous knight,’ the King said, ‘promise her to do battle for her, I require you for the love ye owe unto Sir Lancelot.’
‘My lord,’ said Sir Bors, ‘ye require me the greatest thing that any man may require me; and wit you well, if I grant to do battle for the Queen I shall wrath many of my fellowship of the Table Round. But as for that,’ said Sir Bors, ‘I will grant for my lord Sir Lancelot’s sake and for your sake, I will at that day be the Queen’s champion unless that there come by adventure a better knight than I am to do battle for her.’
‘Will ye promise me this,’ said the King, ‘by your faith?’
‘Yea sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘of that I shall not fail you, nor her, but if there came a better knight than I am: then shall he have the battle.’
Then was the King and the Queen passing glad, and so departed, and thanked him heartily.
Then Sir Bors departed secretly upon a day and rode unto Sir Lancelot there as he was with Sir Brastias, and told him of all this adventure.
‘Ah Jesu,’ Sir Lancelot said, ‘this is come happily as I would have it. And therefore I pray you make you ready to do battle, but look that ye tarry till ye see me come as long as ye may. For I am sure Sir Mador is a hot knight when he is enchafed, for the more ye suffer him the hastier will he be to battle.’
‘Sir,’ said Sir Bors, ‘let me deal with him. Doubt ye not ye shall have all your will.’
So departed Sir Bors from him and came to the court again. Then was it noised in all the court that Sir Bors should do battle for the Queen; wherefore many knights were displeased with him, that he would take upon him to do battle in the Queen’s quarrel, for there were but few knights in all the court but they deemed the Queen was in the wrong and that she had done that treason. So Sir Bors answered thus to his fellows of the Table Round, ‘Wit you well, my fair lords, it were shame to us all and we suffered to see the most noble queen of the world to be shamed openly, considering her lord and our lord is the man of most worship christened, and he hath ever worshipped us all in all places.’
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