The Death of King Arthur Page 21

  Then, with a noise like a great tempest, the fiend vanished from sight. The holy man, and Sir Lancelot, both rejoiced that this dead man was not among the damned. Lancelot stayed with the holy man that night.

  ‘Sir,’ the hermit asked him the next morning, ‘am I right in thinking that you are Sir Lancelot du Lake?’

  ‘That is my name.’

  ‘What do you seek in this country?’

  ‘I am in quest of the Holy Grail.’

  ‘You cannot catch sight of it, even if it were before you here. You can no more see it than a blind man can see a bright sword. Your sins come before you. Otherwise there would have been no knight more worthy.’ Lancelot bowed his head and wept. ‘Have you given your confession since you took on the quest?’ the hermit asked him gently.

  ‘Yes, father.’

  ‘I will say mass with you. And then we must bury this good man.’

  When they had put him in the ground, Lancelot kneeled down. ‘What shall I do to be saved?’

  ‘Take this hair shirt that belonged to the holy man we have just buried. Place it next to your skin. It will be of great help to you. I also charge you, sir, to eat no meat and drink no wine while you remain on your quest. And, if it is possible, you must hear mass every day.’

  ‘I promise to obey you,’ the knight said.

  Wherein Lancelot sees another vision

  At evensong Sir Lancelot left the chapel, and made his way into a forest. Among the trees he came upon a gentlewoman riding on a white palfrey.

  ‘Sir knight,’ she asked him, ‘where are you travelling?’

  ‘I go, lady, wherever fortune leads me.’

  ‘Ah, Lancelot,’ she replied, ‘I know well enough what you seek. You were nearer to it before than you are now. Yet soon you will see it more clearly than ever you did.’ Lancelot asked her where he might find lodging. ‘You will find none for a day and a night. But, after that time, you will find a good resting place.’

  So Lancelot rode on until he came to a cross. He dismounted and prayed, and before long he fell asleep beneath the cross. And as he slept he was vouchsafed a vision. A man came before him, adorned with bright stars and crowned with a circlet of gold. He led forward seven kings and two knights, who fell down on their knees before the cross and held up their hands in worship towards heaven. ‘Sweet Lord,’ they cried, ‘come to us here on earth. Bring us bliss or woe, according to our worth.’

  And in his vision Lancelot looked up at the heavens. It seemed to him that the clouds opened, and that an old man came down with a company of angels. This holy man blessed the kings and knights, and called them his servants – all except one knight, whom he approached with a look of warning. ‘You have wasted and profaned all the gifts I lavished on you,’ he told him. ‘You have fought in wars for the sake of your own glory. Pride, not truth, has been your tutor. Return those gifts to me or meet your ruin.’

  So ended Lancelot’s vision. On the following morning he took horse and rode on until midday. Quite by chance he came across the knight who had stolen his helmet and horse, on the evening when the Holy Grail had appeared before the marble cross. ‘Prepare yourself!’ Lancelot called out to him. ‘You have done me wrong.’

  They put their spears before them, and charged. Lancelot had the better of the contest, and soon enough the knight was upon the ground. Lancelot took back his old horse, and went on his way. He rode until nightfall, when he found a hermit praying in a small chapel by a stream. They greeted one another, and the hermit invited him to sleep that night beside the altar. ‘From where do you come?’ he asked him.

  ‘I am from the court of King Arthur, father, and my name is Sir Lancelot du Lake. I am in quest of the Holy Grail. So may I ask you this? What is the meaning of the vision I was granted last night?’ He then recounted all that he had seen.

  ‘This is a token of your high lineage,’ the hermit told him. ‘The seven kings and the two knights are the descendants of Joseph of Arimathea. The last of the seven kings, King Ban, was your father. The first knight, whom the holy man warned, is yourself. The second knight was your son, Sir Galahad, and he will be called the lion. He has the virtues of the lion.’

  ‘Is he, then, the most virtuous of all?’

  ‘Did he not assume the Perilous Seat at the time of Pentecost? I entreat you to acknowledge him as your son. But do not attempt to challenge him. No knight will ever defeat him.’

  ‘No. I will beg him to pray for me instead. His virtue may help to vanquish my sins.’

  ‘You will fare all the better for his prayers. Yet you know that the father cannot bear the sins of the son, nor the son bear the sins of his father. Each man must carry his own burden.’

  They had supper together, and afterwards Lancelot lay down to rest. The hair shirt chafed and tore his skin, but he endured it for the love of God. The next morning he heard mass, and then rode out.

  Wherein Lancelot joins a battle

  He came on to a fair plain, where there stood a great castle. There were many tents beside it, of diverse hues, and on the plain paraded five hundred knights. Those from the castle were clad in black armour and rode on black horses; the strangers wore white armour, and had white horses. Lancelot watched as they rode against each other. It seemed to him that the white party had the better of it, and so he decided to go into battle on behalf of the weaker side. That is the sign of a good knight. He readied his spear and rode into the throng. He was successful at first, but the white knights surrounded him and so harried him that he hardly had the strength to stay on his horse. They took advantage of his weariness and led him and his horse from the field. ‘You are now out of the way,’ they told him, ‘thanks be to God.’ Then they defeated the fellowship of the castle, despondent at the absence of Lancelot.

  Lancelot himself was left to his sorrow. ‘I am ashamed,’ he said aloud among his sighs. ‘I have never before been defeated. It is a sign that I am more sinful than ever.’

  He rode on, in despair, until he came to a deep valley. He could not descend its side and so he lay himself down to rest beneath an apple tree. He thought then that an old man appeared before him. ‘Sir Lancelot, Sir Lancelot,’ he said, ‘you are of little faith. Why is it that you are turned so easily to deadly sin?’

  The old man then disappeared. Lancelot roused himself, and continued on his way. He rode along a path until he came to a chapel where lived a recluse; she had a small side room, with a window overlooking the altar. She called out to him as he rode past, and asked him several questions about his journey. He told her of his dreams and visions; he told her also of the tournament between the white knights and the black knights.

  ‘Ah, Lancelot,’ she said, ‘that tournament was a token of Our Lord’s grace. It was no enchantment. They were indeed earthly knights. The white knights were from the court of Eliazar, son of King Pelles, while the black knights came from Argustus, son of King Harlon. Yet they held another meaning. The black knights are a token of all those covered in sin, while the white knights are a sign of purity and chastity. You looked upon a battle between sinners and good men; yet you were inclined to side with the sinners, were you not? You thought more of your pride and your standing in the world. Yet vainglory is not worth a turd. You must vanquish yourself before you will see the Holy Grail. That is why the old man, in a vision, accused you of little faith. If you do not mend your life, you will fall into the deepest pit of hell. Of all knights, I pity you the most. You have no peer among sinful men. Beware of everlasting pain.’

  Lancelot took his leave of her, and rode along the valley. He came to a river, overflowing with deep and terrible waters. It is known as Mortaise. He had to make his way through these black waves.

  The Quest Goes On

  After he had encountered Sir Lancelot and Sir Percival, Sir Galahad rode further and further into the wild wood, where the shadows faded in his presence, until at last he came out by the open sea. He went along the coast, until he arrived at a castle where a tournament was be
ing held. He realized that the knights outside the walls were winning the battle against those who defended the castle from within. He went to the rescue of the defenders, and galloped into the midst of the attackers with his spear in front of him. He knocked the first man to the ground, and his spear broke. But he took out his sword, and made short work of those around him. It so happened that Sir Gawain and Sir Ector de Maris were among the knights assaulting the castle. When they saw him, with his white shield on which was painted the red cross, they knew at once that it was Galahad. ‘Only a fool,’ Ector said, ‘would ride against him. He is the high prince.’

  Yet at that moment Galahad rode past and, with his sword, slashed Gawain so severely that the blade gave the knight a great wound in the head and sliced into his horse. When Sir Ector saw Gawain fall to the ground, he went over and rescued him. ‘Now I understand the truth of what Lancelot said to me,’ Gawain told Ector. ‘The sword in the stone has given me such a stroke that I would have surrendered the best castle in the world to avoid it. Never have I felt such a blow.’

  ‘Sir,’ Ector said, ‘it seems to me that your quest is done. Mine is only beginning.’

  ‘You are right. I will seek no more.’

  See the Sword with the Strong Strokes

  Gawain was taken into the castle, where he was laid in a fair chamber. A doctor was summoned to his side, and Ector would not leave him until his wound had healed.

  Sir Galahad had left the field of battle, as soon as he was victorious, and rode so fast that before nightfall he reached the lands of the Castle of Corbenic. He found a hermitage there, where he lodged for the night; just as dawn broke, there was a knock at the door. The hermit rose to open it, and was greeted by a gentlewoman. ‘Father,’ she said, ‘will you awaken Sir Galahad? I must speak with him.’

  Galahad came to the door. ‘What is it you wish from me, lady?’ he asked her.

  ‘Sir Galahad, will you arm yourself and come with me? I promise you that, within three days, I will show you the most honourable adventure ever undertaken by a knight.’

  ‘If that is so, lady, I will follow you willingly.’ He said farewell to the hermit, and then mounted his horse. ‘Lead me forward,’ he told her. They travelled on until they came to the shore of the sea.

  ‘Only a little further,’ she said.

  There, in a small cove, a boat was waiting for them. As Galahad approached it, he saw Sir Bors and Sir Percival standing beneath the sails. ‘Welcome, Galahad,’ Sir Percival said. ‘We have been expecting you.’

  The lady and Sir Galahad took up their saddles and their bridles, but left their horses on the shore. They crossed themselves and boarded the boat. Galahad took off his helmet, and unbuckled his sword. ‘Where have you come from?’ he asked the knights. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Truly,’ Sir Bors replied, ‘we came here by God’s grace. We had no other guide.’

  ‘I never thought I would see you in this strange land.’

  ‘If only your father, Lancelot, was with us,’ Sir Percival told him. ‘Then we would be complete.’

  ‘That will not be,’ Galahad replied. ‘Not unless Our Lord wishes it.’

  The boat now travelled far from the land, driven by a blessed wind, and came to a whirlpool between two great rocks. They could not venture there without grave risk, but there was a second ship close by. ‘This ship is for us,’ the noblewoman said. ‘It has been sent to us by the Lord. Do you see the words carved upon its prow?’

  And there was written: YOU WHO BOARD THIS SHIP MUST HAVE PERFECT BELIEF. I AM THE TOKEN OF FAITH ITSELF. IF YOU ARE NOT STEADFAST IN BELIEF I CANNOT SAVE YOU.

  The noblewoman turned to Sir Percival. ‘Sir,’ she asked him, ‘do you know who I am?’

  ‘I never saw you before in my life, lady.’

  ‘Then know this. I am your sister. I am the daughter of Pellinor, King of the Isles, and as such I love you more than any other man in the world. So I advise you of this. If you are not filled with faith, and a perfect believer, you must not come aboard this vessel. No sinner can sail in it.’

  When Sir Percival realized that this was indeed his sister, he was exultant. ‘Fair sister,’ he told her, ‘I will embark upon this ship; if I am guilty of sin, I will gladly perish.’

  Galahad crossed himself, and boarded the vessel; he was followed by the others, who marvelled at the furnishings they found there. In the middle of the ship was a bed, upon which had been placed a crown of silk. At the foot of this bed was a sword, pulled a little way out of its sheath. The sword itself was inlaid and decorated with rich devices. There were all manner of precious stones on the pommel itself, their colours a token of their particular virtues, and the hilt was made up of bone taken from two marvellous creatures. One was removed from the snake known as the serpent of the fiend; he who holds it in his hand will never weary or suffer a wound. The other bone came from the fish that lives in the Euphrates, and is known as Ertanax. This also protects the owner from weariness. Its other property is that it directs the mind forward, and prevents the remembrance of things past. On the hilt was inscribed the following words: ONLY ONE WARRIOR WILL BE ABLE TO HOLD ME. HE WILL SURPASS ALL OTHERS.

  ‘In the name of God,’ Sir Percival said, ‘I must try this sword.’ He put his hand to it, but he could not grip it. Sir Bors suffered the same fate.

  Then Sir Galahad stepped forward, and suddenly on the sword there appeared letters as red as blood. LET US SEE WHO WILL DRAW ME OUT OF THIS SHEATH. HE MUST BE STRONGER THAN ANY OTHER. IF HE SUCCEEDS HE WILL NEVER BE SHAMED IN THIS LIFE NOR WILL HE EVER BE WOUNDED TO THE DEATH.

  ‘I would willingly draw this sword,’ Sir Galahad said, ‘but I am sure that the penalty for any failure will be very hard.’

  ‘Only you, sir, can draw this sword,’ the noble lady said. ‘It is forbidden to all others. This is the sword with which King Hurlaine killed King Labor, father of the Maimed King. The death stroke caused great harm and dearth in the lands of both kings; there were famine and pestilence throughout the kingdoms. There was no fruit, nor grass, nor corn, nor fresh water. And so the two realms became known as the Waste Land, and the stroke was called the Dolorous Stroke. When King Hurlaine tried to place the sword back in the scabbard he fell to the earth dead. It has been proved that no man has drawn this sword without finding death or injury. King Hurlaine lay on the deck here, the same deck now beneath your feet, undefended. No man dared to board the vessel. Yet one day an innocent virgin came on to the ship and cast him into the waves.’

  The three knights now walked over to the scabbard, which seemed to be made out of serpent’s skin. The belt, or girdle, was not so gaily wrought. On the scabbard itself were written letters of gold and silver. HE WHO SHALL WIELD ME MUST BE STRONGER THAN ANY OTHER. ONLY THEN WILL HE BEAR ME AS I OUGHT TO BE BORNE. THE ONE ON WHOSE SIDE I WILL HANG WILL NEVER BE SHAMED. YOU MUST NEVER REMOVE THE GIRDLE OF THIS SWORD. ONLY A MAID OF INCOMPARABLE VIRTUE MAY TOUCH IT. SHE MUST BE THE DAUGHTER OF A KING AND A QUEEN. SHE MUST BE INNOCENT IN WORD AND DEED. IF SHE BREAKS HER VIRGINITY SHE WILL DIE A WORSE DEATH THAN ANY OTHER WOMAN.

  ‘Sir,’ Percival said to Galahad, ‘turn over the sword so that we can see what is on the other side.’

  They saw that the reverse side of the blade was blood red, with letters written as black as any coal. HE THAT PRAISES ME MOST WILL FIND ME MOST BLAMEWORTHY AT A TIME OF GREAT NEED. I WILL INJURE ONE TO WHOM I SHOULD BE MOST GRACIOUS. AND THAT WILL BE AT ONE TIME ONLY.

  ‘What is the name of this sword?’ Sir Bors asked her. ‘What shall we call it?’

  ‘It will be known as the Sword with the Strong Strokes. The sheath will be known as the Mover of Blood.’

  Sir Percival and Sir Bors then turned to Sir Galahad. ‘Sir, in the name of Christ, we ask you to take up this sword and wear it by your side.’

  ‘I will hold it,’ he said, ‘to give you all courage. But it belongs to you as much as it belongs to me.’

  He took the sword out of its scabbard and held it alo
ft before Sir Percival’s sister fastened it upon him. ‘Fair knight,’ she said to him, ‘there is a king known as the Maimed King who was once known as Dagdon. He was a good Christian who always supported Holy Mother Church. He was hunting one day, in one of his forests that reached down to the sea, when he lost all of his hounds and all but one of his knights. The king and the surviving knight came out by the shore, and found this ship. When Dagdon read the inscription upon its prow he was happy to go on board. But the knight, aware of his sins, was not ready to follow him. The king found this sword, and withdrew it from its sheath to the extent that you now can see. Thereupon a spear entered his body. That is why he is known as the Maimed King.’ She bowed to Galahad. ‘He is your grandfather. Maimed by his pride. You will meet him.’

  ‘In the name of God!’ Galahad exclaimed.

  ‘I am ready to die,’ she said. ‘I am now one of the most blessed maidens in the world, having served the worthiest knight in the world.’

  ‘Madam,’ Sir Galahad told her, ‘I will be your own especial knight for all the days of my life.’

  See a great slaughter

  They left the holy ship and returned to the vessel in which they had first sailed. The wind drove them across the water. They had neither meat nor drink but they trusted in the Lord. At last the waves brought them to the cliffs beneath a castle known as Carteloise, on the coast of Scotland, where they were greeted by a gentlewoman. She stood upon the rocks with her arms upraised. ‘There are men here,’ she told them, ‘that have no love for the knights of King Arthur’s court.’

  ‘Do not be dismayed,’ Sir Galahad said. ‘He that saved us from the rocks and the whirlpools will deliver us from our enemies.’

  A squire then rode up to them, and asked them from where they came. ‘From King Arthur,’ Sir Bors told him.