knights in such wise for the reproach of other knights."

Meliot made them graves with his sword, and so buried them the best he
might.

"Sir," saith the damsel, "And you take not thought to protect me, the
knight will slay me.  To-morrow, when he findeth not the knights, he
will search all the forest to look for me."

Meliot and the damsel together go their way through the forest until
they come to a chapel where was wont to be a hermit that the Knight of
the Galley had destroyed.  He helpeth down the damsel of his horse, and
afterward they entered into the chapel, where was a great brightness of
light, and a damsel was there that kept watch over a dead knight.
Meliot marvelleth him much.

"Damsel," said Meliot, "When was this knight killed?"

"Sir, yesterday the Knight of the Galley slew him on the seashore,
wherefore behoveth me thus keep watch, and in the morning will he come
hither or ever he go to the castle where Messire Gawain hath to-morrow
to fight with a lion, all unarmed, and my Lady, that is mistress both
of me and of this damsel you have brought hither, will likewise be
brought to-morrow to the place where the lion is to slay Messire
Gawain, and she in like sort will be afterward delivered to the lion
and she renounce not the New Law wherein the knight that came from
Raving Castle, whereof she is lady, hath made her believe; and we
ourselves shall be in like manner devoured along with her.  But this
damsel would still have taken respite of my death and she had still
kept guard over the knights that were so foully hanged above her.
Natheless, sith that you have taken them down from where they were
hanging, you have done a right good deed, whatsoever betide, for the
Lord of the Red Tower will give his castle to the knight for this."

Meliot is right joyous of the tidings that he hath heard of Messire
Gawain that he is still on live, for well knoweth he, sith that the
Knight of the Galley will come by the chapel there, that he will come
thither or ever Messire Gawain doth battle with the lion.

"Sir," saith the damsel of the chapel, "For God's sake, take this
damsel to a place of safety, for the knight will be so wood mad of
wrath and despite so soon as he cometh hither, that he will be fain to
smite off her head forthwith, and of yourself also have I great fear."

III.

"Damsel," saith Meliot, "The knight is but a man like as am I."

"Yea, Sir, but stronger is he and more cruel than seem you to be."

Meliot was in the chapel the night until the morrow, and heard the
knight coming like a tempest, and he brought with him the lady of the
castle and reviled her from time to time, and Meliot seeth him come,
and a dwarf that followeth after him a great pace.  He crieth out to
him: "Sir, behold there the disloyal knight through whom you have lost
your castle.  Now haste! Avenge yourself of him!  After that will we go
to the death of Messire Gawain?"

Meliot, so soon as he espieth him, mounteth and maketh his arms ready.

"Is it you," saith the Knight of the Galley, "that hath trespassed on
my demesne and taken down my knights?"

"By my head, yours were they not!  Rather were they the knights of God,
and foul outrage have you done herein when you slew them so shamefully."

He goeth toward the knight without more words, and smiteth him so
passing strong amidst the breast that he pierceth the habergeon and
thrusteth all the iron of his spear into his body and afterward draweth
it back to him with a great wrench.  And the knight smiteth him so hard
on his shield that he maketh an ell's length pass beyond, for right
wroth was he that he was wounded. The dwarf crieth to him, "Away, then!
The knight endureth against you that have slain so many of them!"

The Knight of the Galley waxeth wood wrath.  He taketh his career, and
cometh as fast as his horse may carry him, and smiteth Meliot so
strongly that he breaketh his spear in such sort that he maketh both
him and his horse stagger.  But Meliot catcheth him better, for he
thrusteth the spear right through his body and hurleth against him at
the by-passing with such stoutness and force that he maketh him fall
dead to the ground from his horse.  The dwarf thought to escape, but
Meliot smote off his head, whereof the damsels gave him great thanks,
for many a mischief had he wrought them.

IV.

Meliot buried the knight that he found in the chapel dead, then told
the damsels that he might abide no longer, but would go succour Messire
Gawain and he might.  The damsels were horsed to their will, for one
had the horse of the knight that was slain and the other the horse of
the dwarf.  The other damsel was come upon a mule, and they said that
they would go back, for the country was made all safe by the death of
the knight.  They thanked Meliot much, for they say truly that he hath
rescued them from death.  Meliot departeth from the damsels and goeth
right amidst the forest as he that would most fain hear tidings of
Messire Gawain.  When he had ridden of a long space, he met a knight
that was coming all armed at great pace.

"Sir Knight," saith he to Meliot, "Can you tell me tidings of the
Knight of the Galley?"

"What have you to do therein?" saith Meliot.

"Sir, the Lord of the Red Tower hath made bring Messire Gawain into a
launde of this forest, and there, all unarmed, must he do battle with a
lion.  So my lord is waiting for the Knight of the Galley, that is to
bring two damsels thither that the lion will devour when he shall have
slain Messire Gawain."

"Will the battle be presently?" saith Meliot.

"Yea, Sir," saith the knight, "Soon enough betimes, for Messire Gawain
hath already been led thither and there bound to a stake until such
time as the lion shall be come.  Then will he be unbound, but even then
two knights all armed will keep watch on him.  But tell me tidings of
the Knight of the Galley, and you have seen him?"

"Go forward," saith he, "and you will hear tidings of him."

Meliot departeth thereupon, a great gallop, and cometh nigh the launde
whereunto Messire Gawain had been brought.  He espied the two knights
that kept guard over him, and if that Messire Gawain were in fear,
little marvel was it, for he thought that his end had come.  Meliot
espied him bound to an iron staple with cords about the body on all
sides so that he might not move.  Meliot hath great pity thereof in his
heart, and saith to himself that he will die there sooner than Messire
Gawain shall die.  He clappeth spurs to his horse when he cometh nigh
the knights, and overtaketh one of them with such a rush that he
thrusteth his spear right through his body, and beareth him down dead.
The other was fain to go to the castle for succour when he saw his
fellow dead.  Meliot slew him forthwith.  He cometh to Messire Gawain,
and so unbindeth him and cutteth the cords wherewith he is bound.

"Sir," saith he, "I am Meliot of Logres, your knight."

V.

When Messire Gawain felt himself unbound, no need to ask whether he had
joy thereof.  The tidings were come to the Red Court that Queen Jandree
was christened and baptized, and that the Knight was come that had such
force and puissance in him that none might endure against him for the
God in whom he believed, and they knew likewise that the Knight of the
Galley was dead, and Messire Gawain unbound and the knights that
guarded him slain.  They say that there may they not abide, so they
depart from the castle and say that they will cross the sea to protect
their bodies, for that there they may have no safety.

VI.

When Meliot had delivered Messire Gawain he made him be armed with the
arms, such as they were, of one of the knights he had slain.  Messire
Gawain mounted on a horse such as pleased him, and right great joy had
he at heart.  They marvel much how it is that they of the castle have
not come after them, but they know not their thought nor how they are
scared.

"Meliot," saith Messire Gawain, "You have delivered me from death this
time and one other, nor never had I acquaintance with any knight that
hath done so much for me in so short a time as have you."

They departed the speediest they might and rode nigh enow to the
castle, but they heard none moving within nor any noise, nor saw they
none issue forth, and much marvelled they that none should come after
them.  They rode until they came to the head of the forest and caught
sight of the sea that was nigh enough before them, and saw that there
was a great clashing of arms at the brink of the sea.  A single knight
was doing battle with all them that would fain have entered into a
ship, and held stour so stiffly against them that he toppled the more
part into the sea. They went thither as fast as they might, and when
they drew nigh to the ship they knew that it was Perceval by his arms
and his shield.  Or ever they reached it, the ship was put off into the
midst of the sea, wherein he was launched of his own great hardiment,
and they went on fighting against him within the ship.

"Meliot," saith Messire Gawain, "See you, there is Perceval the Good
Knight, and now may we say of a truth that he is in sore peril of
death; for that ship, save God bethink Him thereof, shall arrive in
such manner and in such a place as that never more shall we have no
witting of him, and, so he perish for ever, no knight on live may have
power to set forward the Law of our Lord."

VII.

Messire Gawain seeth the ship going further away, and Perceval that
defendeth himself therein against them that set upon him. Right heavy
is he that he came not sooner, or ever the ship had put off from the
land.  He turneth back, he and Meliot together, and right sorrowful was
Messire Gawain of Perceval, for they knew not in what land he might
arrive, and, might he have followed, right gladly would he have gone
after him to aid him.  They have ridden until they meet a knight.
Messire Gawain asketh him whence he cometh, and he saith from King
Arthur's court.

"What tidings can you tell us thereof?" saith Messire Gawain.

"Sir, bad enough!" saith he.  "King Arthur hath neglected all his
knights for Briant of the Isles, and hath put one of his best knights
in prison."

"What is his name?" saith Messire Gawain.

"Sir, he is called Lancelot of the Lake.  He had reconquered all the
islands that had been reft of King Arthur, and slain King Madeglant,
and conquered the land of Oriande that he turned to the belief of the
Saviour of the World, and, so soon as he had conquered his enemies,
King Arthur sent for him forthwith and straightway put him in his
prison by the counsel of Briant of the Isles.  But King Arthur will
have a surfeit of friends betimes; for King Claudas hath assembled his
folk in great plenty to reconquer the kingdom of Oriande and come back
upon King Arthur by the counsel of Briant of the Isles that betrayeth
the King, for he hath made him his Seneschal and commander of all his
land."

"Sir Knight," saith Messire Gawain, "Needs must the King miscarry that
setteth aside the counsel of his good knights for the leasings of a
traitor."

Thereupon the knight departed from Messire Gawain.  Right heavy is he
of this that he hath said, that the King hath put Lancelot in prison.
Never tofore did he aught whereby he wrought so much to blame.

BRANCH XXXIV.

TITLE I.

Hereupon the story is silent of Messire Gawain and Meliot and speaketh
of King Claudas that hath assembled a great folk by the counsel of
Briant of the Isles to come into the land of King Arthur, for he
knoweth that it is disgarnished of the good knights that wont there to
be, and he knoweth all the secret plottings of the court and what power
King Arthur hath withal. He draweth toward his land the nighest he may,
and hath won back the kingdom of Oriande all at his will.  But they of
Albanie still hold against him and challenge the land the best they
may. Tidings thereof come to the court of King Arthur, and they of the
country sent him word that so he send them not succour betimes they
will yield up the land to King Claudas, and oftentimes they long after
Lancelot, and say that so they had a defender like him, the islands
would be all at peace.  The King sent Briant of the Isles thither many
times, that ever incontinent returned thence discomfit, but never sent
he thither him that should have power to protect the land against King
Claudas.  King Arthur was sore troubled, for no witting had he of
Messire Gawain nor Messire Ywain nor of others whereby his court had
use of right to be feared and dreaded and of high renown throughout all
other kingdoms.  The King was one day in the hall at Cardoil, right
heavy; and he was at one of the windows, and remembered him of the
Queen and of his good knights that he wont to see oftener at court,
whereof the more part were dead, and of the adventures that wont to
befall therein whereof they saw none no longer. Lucan the Butler seeth
him right heavy and draweth nigh unto him quietly.

II.

"Sir," saith he, "Meseemeth you are without joy."

"Lucan," said the King, "Joy hath been somewhat far from me sithence
that the Queen hath been dead, and Gawain and the other knights have
held aloof from my court so that they deign come hither no longer.
Moreover, King Claudas warreth upon me and conquereth my lands so that
no power have I to rescue me for default of my knights."

"Sir," saith Lucan, "Herein is there nought whereof you have right to
accuse any save yourself alone.  For you have done evil unto him that
hath served you, and good unto them that are traitors to you.  You have
one of the best knights in the world and the most loyal in your prison,
wherefore all the other hold them aloof from your court.  Lancelot had
served you well by his good will and by his good knighthood, nor never
had he done you any disservice whereof you might in justice have done
him such shame; nor never will your enemies withhold them from you nor
have dread of you save only through him and other your good knights.
And know of a truth that Lancelot and Messire Gawain are the best of
your court."

"Lucan," saith King Arthur, "So thought I ever again to have affiance
in him, I would make him be set forth of my prison, for well I know
that I have wrought discourteously toward him; and Lancelot is of a
great heart, wherefore would he not slacken of his despite for that
which hath been done unto him until such time as he should be avenged
thereof, for no king is there in the world, how puissant soever he be,
against whom he durst not well maintain his right."

III.

"Sir," saith Lucan, "Lancelot well knoweth that and you had taken no
counsel but your own, he would not have been thus entreated, and I dare
well say that never so long as he liveth will he misdo in aught towards
you, for he hath in him much valour and loyalty, as many a time have
you had good cause to know.  Wherefore, and you would fain have aid and
succour and hold your realm again, behoveth you set him forth of the
prison, or otherwise never will you succeed herein, and, if you do not
so, you will lose your land by treason."

The King held by the counsel of Lucan the Butler.  He made bring
Lancelot before him into the midst of the hall, that was somewhat made
ean of his being in prison, but he bore him as he wont, nor might none
look at him to whom he seemed not to be good knight. "Lancelot," saith
the King, "How is it with you?"

"Sir," saith he, "It hath been ill with me long time, but, please God,
it shall be better hereafter."

"Lancelot," saith the King, "I repent me of this that I have done to
you, and I have bethought me much of the good services I have found in
you, wherefore I will do you amends thereof at your will, in such sort
as that the love between us shall be whole as it was tofore."

IV.

"Sir," saith Lancelot, "Your amends love I much, and your love more
than of any other; but never, please God, will I misdo you for aught
that you may have done to me, for it is well known that I have not been
in prison for no treason I have done, nor for no folly, but only for
that it was your will.  Never will it be reproached me as of shame,
and, sith that you have done me nought whereof I may have blame nor
reproach, my devoir it is to withhold me from hating you; for you are
my lord, and if that you do me ill, without flattery of myself the ill
you do me is your own; but, please God, whatsoever you have done me,
never shall my aid fail you, rather, everywhere will I set my body in
adventure for your love, in like sort as I have done many a time."

V.

In the court of King Arthur was right great joy of the most part when
they heard that Lancelot was set forth of prison, but not a whit
rejoiced were Briant and his folk.  The King commanded that Lancelot
should be well cared for and made whole again, and that all should be
at his commandment.  The court was all overjoyed thereof, and they
said: now at last might the King make war in good assurance.  Lancelot
was foremost in the King's court and more redoubted than was ever
another of the knights.  Briant of the Isles came one day before the
King.

"Sir," saith he, "Behold, here is Lancelot that wounded me in your
service, wherefore I will that he know I am his enemy."

"Briant," saith Lancelot, "And if that you deserved it tofore, well may
you be sorry thereof, and sith that you wish to be mine enemy, your
friend will I not be.  For well may I deem of your love according as I
have found it in you."

"Sir," saith Briant to the King, "You are my lord, and I am one you are
bound to protect.  You know well that so rich am I in lands and so
puissant in friends that I may well despise mine enemy, nor will I not
remain at your court so long as Lancelot is therein.  Say not that I
depart thence with any shame as toward myself.  Rather thus go I hence
as one that will gladly avenge me, so I have place and freedom, and I
see plainly and know that you and your court love him far better than
you love me, wherefore behoveth me take thought thereof."

"Briant," saith the King, "Remain as yet, and I will make amends for
you to Lancelot, and I myself will make amends for him to you."

VI.

"Sir," saith Briant, "By the faith that I owe to you, none amends will
I have of him nor other until such time as I have drawn as much blood
of his body as did he of mine, and I will well that he know it."

With that Briant departeth from the court all wrathful, but if that
Lancelot had not feared to anger the King, Briant would not have ridden
a league English or ever he had followed and forced him to fight.
Briant goeth toward the Castle of the Hard Rock, and saith that better
would it have been for the King that Lancelot were still in prison, for
that such a plea will he move against him and he may bring it to bear,
as that he shall lose thereof the best parcel of his land.  He is gone
into the land of King Claudas, and saith that now at last hath he need
of his aid, for Lancelot is issued forth of the King's prison and is
better loved at court than all other, so that the King believeth in no
counsel save his only.  King Claudas sweareth unto him and maketh
pledge that never will he fail him, and Briant to him again.

BRANCH XXXV.

TITLE I.

Herewithal is the story silent of Briant and talketh of Perceval, that
the ship beareth away right swiftly; but so long hath he held battle
therein that every one hath he slain of them that were in the ship save
only the pilot that steereth her, for him hath he in covenant that he
will believe in God and renounce his evil Law.  Perceval is far from
land so that he seeth nought but sea only, and the ship speedeth
onward, and God guideth him, as one that believeth in Him and loveth
Him and serveth Him of a good heart.  The ship ran on by night and by
day as it pleased God, until that they saw a castle and an island of
the sea.  He asked his pilot if he knew what castle it was.

"Certes," saith he, "Not I, for so far have we run that I know not
neither the sea nor the stars."

They come nigh the castle, and saw four that sounded bells at the four
corners of the town, right sweetly, and they that sounded them were
clad in white garments.  They are come thither.

II.

So soon as the ship had taken haven under the castle, the sea
withdraweth itself back, so that the ship is left on dry land. None
were therein save Perceval, his horse, and the pilot.  They issued
forth of the ship and went by the side of the sea toward the castle,
and therein were the fairest halls and the fairest mansions that any
might see ever.  He Looketh underneath a tree that was tall and broad
and seeth the fairest fountain and the clearest that any may devise,
and it was all surrounded of rich pillars, and the gravel thereof
seemed to be gold and precious stones.  Above this fountain were two
men sitting, their beards and hair whiter than driven snow, albeit they
seemed young of visage.  So soon as they saw Perceval they dressed them
to meet him, and bowed down and worshipped the shield that he bare at
his neck, and kissed the cross and then the boss wherein were the
hallows.

"Sir," say they, "Marvel not of this that we do, for well knew we the
knight that bare this shield tofore you.  Many a time we saw him or
ever God were crucified."

Perceval marvelleth much of this that they say, for they talk of a time
that is long agone.

III.

"Lords, know ye then how he was named?"

Say they, "Joseph of Abarimacie, but no cross was there on the shield
before the death of Jesus Christ.  But he had it set thereon after the
crucifixion of Jesus Christ for the sake of the Saviour that he loved
so well."

Perceval took off the shield from his neck, and one of the worshipful
men setteth upon it as it were a posy of herbs that was blooming with
the fairest flowers in the world.  Perceval looketh beyond the fountain
and seeth in a right fair place a round vessel like as it were ivory,
and it was so large that there was a knight within, all armed.  He
looketh thereinto and seeth the knight, and speaketh unto him many
times, but never the more willeth the knight to answer him.  Perceval
looketh at him in wonderment, and cometh back to the good men and
asketh them who is this knight, and they tell him that he may know not
as yet.  They lead him to a great hall and bear his shield before him,
whereof they make right great joy, and show thereunto great worship.
He seeth the hall right rich, for hall so rich and so fair had he seen
never.  It was hung about with right rich cloths of silk, and in the
midst of the hall was imaged the Saviour of the World so as He is in
His majesty, with the apostles about Him, and within were great
galleries that were full of folk and seemed to be of great holiness,
and so were they, for had they not been good men they might not there
have remained.

IV.

"Sir," say the two Masters to Perceval, "This house that you see here
so rich, is the hall royal."

"By my faith," saith Perceval, "So ought it well to be, for never saw I
none so much of worth."

He Looketh all around, and seeth the richest tables of gold and ivory
that he saw ever.  One of the Masters clappeth his hands thrice, and
three and thirty men come into the hall all in a company.  They were
clad in white garments, and not one of them but had a red cross in the
midst of his breast, and they seemed to be all of an age.  As soon as
they enter into the hall they do worship to God Our Lord and set out
their cups.  Then went they to wash at a great laver of gold, and then
went to sit at the tables.  The Masters made Perceval sit at the most
master-table with themselves.  They were served thereat right
gloriously, and Perceval looked about him more gladlier than he ate.

V.

And while he was thus looking, he seeth a chain of gold come down above
him loaded with precious stones, and in the midst thereof was a crown
of gold.  The chain descended a great length and held on to nought save
to the will of Our Lord only.  As soon as the Masters saw it descending
they opened a great wide pit that was in the midst of the hall, so that
one could see the hole all openly.  As soon as the entrance of this pit
was discovered, there issued thence the greatest cry and most dolorous
that any heard ever, and when the worshipful men hear it, they
stretched out their hands towards Our Lord and all began to weep.
Perceval heareth this dolour, and marvelleth much what it may be.  He
seeth that the chain of gold descendeth thither and is there stayed
until they have well-nigh eaten, and then draweth itself again into the
air and so goeth again aloft.  But Perceval knoweth not what became
thereof, and the Master covereth the pit again, that was right grisly
to see, and pitiful to hear were the voices that issued therefrom.

VI.

The Good Men rose from the tables when they had eaten, and gave thanks
right sweetly to Our Lord; and then returned thither whence they had
come.

"Sir," saith the Master to Perceval, "The chain of gold that you have
seen is right precious and the crown of gold likewise.  But never may
you issue forth from hence save you promise to return so soon as you
shall see the ship and the sail crossed of a red cross; otherwise may
you not depart hence."

"Tell me," saith he, "of the chain of gold and the crown, what it may
be?"

"We will tell you not," saith one of the Masters, "Save you promise
that which I tell you."

"Certes, Sir," saith Perceval, "I promise you faithfully, that so soon
as I shall have done that I have to do for my lady my mother and one
other, that I will return hither, so I be on live and I see your ship
so marked as you say."

"Yea, be you faithful to the end herein, and you shall have the crown
of gold upon your head so soon as you return, and so shall you be
seated in the throne, and shall be king of an island that is near to
this, right plenteous of all things good, for nought is there in the
world that is there lacking that is needful for man's body.  King
Hermit was the king thereof that thus hath garnished it, and for that
he approved himself so well in this kingdom, and that they who are in
the island consented thereto, is he chosen to be king of a greater
realm.  Now they desire that another worshipful man be sent them for
king, that shall do for them as much good as did he, but take you good
heed, sith that you will be king therein, that the island be well
garnished; for, and you garnish it not well, you will be put into the
Poverty-stricken Island, the crying whereof you have but now since
heard, and the crown thereof will again be reft from you.  For they
that have been kings of the Plenteous Island and have not well approved
them, are among the folk that you saw in the Poverty-stricken Island,
lacking in all things good.  And so I tell you that King Hermit, whom
you will succeed, hath sent thither a great part of his folk.  There
are the heads sealed in silver, and the heads sealed in lead, and the
bodies whereunto these heads belonged; I tell you that you must make
come thither the head both of the King and of the Queen.  But of the
other I tell you that they are in the Poverty-stricken Island.  But we
know not whether they shall ever issue forth thence."

VII.

"Sir," saith Perceval, "Tell me of the knight that is all armed in the
ivory vessel, who he is, and what is the name of this castle?"

"You may not know," saith the Master, "until your return.  But tell me
tidings of the most Holy Graal, that you reconquered, is it still in
the holy chapel that was King Fisherman's?"

"Yea, Sir," saith Perceval, "And the sword wherewith S. John was
beheaded, and other hallows in great plenty."

"I saw the Graal," saith the Master, "or ever Joseph, that was uncle to
King Fisherman, collected therein the blood or Jesus Christ.  Know that
well am I acquainted with all your lineage, and of what folk you were
born.  For your good knighthood and for your good cleanness and for
your good valour came you in hither, for such was Our Lord's will, and
take heed that you be ready when place shall be, and time shall come,
and you shall see the ship apparelled."

"Sir," saith Perceval, "Most willingly shall I return, nor never would
I have sought to depart but for my lady my mother, and for my sister,
for never have I seen no place that so much hath pleased me."

He was right well harboured the night within, and in the morning, or
ever he departed, heard a holy mass in a holy chapel the fairest that
he had seen ever.  The Master cometh to him after the mass and bringeth
him a shield as white as snow.  Afterwards, he saith, "You will leave
me your shield within for token of your coming and will bear this."

"Sir," saith Perceval, "I will do your pleasure."

He hath taken leave, and so departeth from the rich mansion, and
findeth the ship all apparelled, and heareth sound the bells at his
forth-going the same as at his coming.  He entereth into the ship and
the sail is set.  He leaveth the land far behind, and the pilot
steereth the ship and Our Lord God guideth and leadeth him.  The ship
runneth a great speed, for far enough had she to run, but God made her
speed as He would, for He knew the passing great goodness and worth of
the knight that was within.

VIII.

God hath guided and led the ship by day and by night until that she
arrived at an island where was a castle right ancient, but it seemed
not to be over-rich, rather it showed as had it been of great lordship
in days of yore.  They cast anchor, and Perceval is come toward the
castle and entereth in all armed.  He seeth the castle large, and the
dwelling chambers fallen down and the house-place roofless, and he
seeth a lady sitting before the steps of an old hall.  She rose up as
soon as she saw him, but she was right poorly clad.  It seemed well by
her body and her cheer and her bearing that she was a gentlewoman, and
he seeth that two damsels come with her that are young of age and are
as poorly clad as is the lady.

"Sir," saith she to Perceval, "Welcome may you be.  No knight have I
seen enter this castle of a long time."

"Lady," saith Perceval, "God grant you joy and honour!"

"Sir," saith she, "Need have we thereof, for none scarce have I had
this long while past."

She leadeth him into a great ancient hall that was right poorly
garnished.

"Sir," saith she, "Here will you harbour you the night, and you would
take in good part that we may do and you knew the plight of this
castle."

She maketh him be unarmed of a servant that was there within, and the
damsels come before him and serve him right sweetly.  The lady bringeth
him a mantle to do on.

"Sir," saith she, "Within are no better garments wherewith to show you
honour than this."

Perceval looketh on the damsels and hath great pity of them, for so
well shapen were they of limb and body as that nature might not have
better fashioned them, and all the beauty that may be in woman's body
was in them, and all the sweetness and simpleness.

IX.

"Lady," saith Perceval, "Is this castle, then, not yours?"

"Sir," saith she, "So much is all that remaineth unto me of all my
land, and you see there my daughters of whom is it right sore pity, for
nought have they but what you see, albeit gentlewomen are they and of
high lineage, but their kinsfolk are too far away, and a knight that is
right cruel hath reft us of our land sithence that my lord was dead,
and holdeth a son of mine in his prison, whereof I am right sorrowful,
for he is one of the comeliest knights in the world.  He had not been
knight more than four years when he took him, and now may I aid neither
myself nor other, but I have heard tell that there is a knight in the
land of Wales that was the son of Alain li Gros of the Valleys of
Camelot, and he is the Best Knight in the World, and this Alain was
brother of Calobrutus, whose wife was I, and of whom I had my son and
these two daughters.  This know I well, that and the Good Knight that
is so near akin to them were by any adventure to come into this island,
I should have my son again, and my daughters that are disherited would
have their lands again freely, and so should I be brought out of sore
pain and poverty.  I am of another lineage that is full far away, for
King Ban of Benoic that is dead was mine uncle, but he hath a son that
is a right good knight as I have been told, so that and one of these
two should come nigh me in any of these islands right joyous should I
be thereof."

X.

Perceval heareth that the two damsels are his uncle's daughters, and
hath great pity thereof.

"Lady," saith he, "How is he named that is in prison?"

"Sir," saith she, "Galobruns, and he that holdeth him in prison is
named Gohaz of the Castle of the Whale."

"Is his castle near this, Lady?" saith he.

"Sir, there is but an arm of the sea to cross, and in all these islands
of the sea is there none that hath any puissance but he only, and so
assured is he that no dread hath he of any.  For none that is in this
land durst offend against him.  Sir, one thing hath he bid me do,
whereof I am sore grieved, that and I send him not one of my daughters,
he hath sworn his oath that he will reave me of my castle."

"Lady," saith Perceval, "An oath is not always kept.  To the two
damsels, please God, shall he do no shame, and right heavy am I of that
he hath done already, for they were daughters of mine uncle.  Alain li
Gros was my father and Galobrutus my uncle, and many another good man
that now is dead."

XI.

When the damsels heard this, they kneeled down before him, and began to
weep for joy and kiss his hands, and pray him for God's sake have mercy
on them and on their brother.  And he saith that he will not depart
from their land until he hath done all he may. He remaineth the night
in the castle and his mariner likewise. The lady made great joy of
Perceval, and did him all the honour she might.  When the morrow came
they showed him the land of the King that had reft them of their land,
but the lady could not tell him where her son was in prison.  He
departeth and cometh back to his ship when he hath taken leave of the
lady and the damsels, and right glad was he to know that the damsels
were so nigh to him of kin.  So he prayeth God grant him that he may be
able to give them back their land and bring them out of the poverty
wherein they are.  He roweth until that he is come under a rock,
wherein was a cave at top round and narrow and secure like as it were a
little house.  Perceval looketh on that side, and seeth a man sitting
within.  He maketh the ship draw nigh the rock, then looketh and seeth
the cutting of a way that went upwards through the rock.  He is come
forth of the ship and goeth up the little path until he cometh into the
little house.  He findeth within one of the comeliest knights in the
world.  He had a ring at his feet and a collar on his neck with a chain
whereof the other end was fixed by a staple into a great ledge of the
rock.  He rose up over against Perceval as soon as he saw him.

"Sir Knight," saith Perceval, "You are well made fast."

"Sir, that irketh me," saith the knight, "Better should I like myself
elsewhere than here."

"You would be right," saith Perceval, "For you are in right evil plight
in the midst of this sea.  Have you aught within to eat or to drink?"

"Sir," saith he, "The daughter of the Sick Knight that dwelleth in the
island hard by, sendeth me every day in a boat as much meat as I may
eat, for she hath great pity of me.  The King that hath imprisoned me
here hath reft her castles like as he hath those of my lady my mother."

"May none remove you hence?"

"Sir, in no wise, save he that set me here, for he keepeth with him the
key of the lock, and he told me when he departed hence that never more
should I issue forth."

"By my head," saith Perceval, "but you shall!  And you were the son of
Galobrutus, you were the son of mine uncle," saith Perceval, "and I of
yours, so that it would be a reproach to me for evermore and I left you
in this prison."

XII.

When Galobruns heareth that he is his uncle's son, great joy hath he
thereof.  He would have fallen at his feet, but Perceval would not, and
said to him, "Now be well assured, for I will seek your deliverance."

He cometh down from the rock, and so entereth the ship and roweth of a
long space.  He looketh before him and seeth a right rich island and a
right plenteous, and on the other side he seeth in a little islet a
knight that is mounted up in a tall tree that was right broad with many
boughs.  There was a damsel with him, that had climbed up also for
dread of a serpent, great and evil-favoured that had issued from a hole
in a mountain.  The damsel seeth Perceval's ship coming, and crieth out
to him.

"Ha, Sir," saith she, "Come to help this King that is up above, and me
that am a damsel!"

"Whereof are you afeard, damsel?" saith Perceval.

"Of a great serpent, Sir," saith she, "that hath made us climb up,
whereof ought I not to be sorry, for this King hath carried me off from
my father's house, and would have done me shame of my body and this
serpent had not run upon him."

"And what is the King's name, damsel?" saith Perceval.

"Sir, he is called Gohaz of the Castle of the Whale.  This great land
is his own that is so plenteous, and other lands enow that he hath reft
of my father and of other."

The King had great shame of this that the damsel told him, and made
answer never a word.  Perceval understandeth that it was he that held
his cousin in prison, and is issued from the ship forthwith, sword
drawn.  The serpent seeth him, and cometh toward him, jaws yawning, and
casteth forth fire and flame in great plenty.  Perceval thrusteth his
sword right through the gullet.

"Now may you come down," saith he to the King.

"Sir," saith he, "The key of a chain wherewith a certain knight is
bound hath fallen, and the serpent seized it."

Perceval rendeth open the throat and findeth the key forthwith, all
red-hot with the fire of the serpent.  The King cometh down, that hath
no dread of aught, but cometh, rather, as he ought, to thank Perceval
of the goodness he had done him, and Perceval seizeth him between his
arms and beareth him away to the ship.

XIII.

"Sir Knight," saith Gohaz, "Take heed what you do, for I am King of
this land."

"Therefore," saith Perceval, "I do it.  For, had it been another I
should do it not."

"Ha, Sir," saith the damsel, "Leave me not here to get forth as I may,
but help me until that I shall be in the house of my father, the Sick
Knight, that is sore grieved on my account."

Perceval understandeth that it is the damsel of whom Galobruns spake
such praise.  He goeth to bring her down from the tree, then bringeth
her into the ship, and so goeth back toward the rock where his cousin
was.

"Sir Knight," saith Gohaz, "Where will you put me?"

"I will put you," saith he, "as an enemy, there, where you have put the
son of mine uncle in prison; so shall I avenge me of you, and he also
at his will."

When the King heard this, he was glad thereof not a whit, and the
damsel was loath not a whit, whom he had thus disherited.  They row
until they come to the rock.  Perceval issueth forth of the ship, and
bringeth Gohaz up maugre his head.  Galobruns seeth him coming and
maketh great joy thereof, and Perceval saith to him: "Behold here your
mortal enemy!  Now do your will of him!"

He taketh the key and so looseth him of the irons wherein he was
imprisoned.

XIV.

"Galobruns," saith Perceval, "Now may you do your pleasure of your
enemy?"

"Sir," saith he, "Right gladly!"

He maketh fast the irons on his feet that he had upon his own, and
afterward setteth the collar on his neck.

"Now let him be here," saith he, "in such sort and in such prison as he
put me; for well I know that he will be succoured of none."

After that, he flingeth the key into the sea as far as he might, and so
seemed it to Galobruns that he well avenged himself in such wise, and
better than if he had killed him.  Perceval alloweth him everything
therein at his will.  They enter into the ship and leave Gohaz all
sorrowing on the rock, that never thereafter ate nor drank.  And
Perceval bringeth his cousin and the damsel, and they row until that
they come into their land, and Perceval maketh send for all the folk of
King Gohaz and maketh all the more powerful do sure homage to Galobruns
and his sisters in such sort that the land was all at their will.  He
sojourned there so long as it pleased him, and then departed and took
leave of the damsel and Galobruns, that thanked him much for the lands
that he had again through him.

XV.

Perceval hath rowed until that he is come nigh a castle that was
burning fiercely with a great flame, and seeth a hermitage upon the sea
hard by.  He seeth the hermit at the door of the chapel, and asketh him
what the castle is that hath caught fire thus.

"Sir," saith the hermit, "I will tell you.  Joseus, the son of King
Pelles, slew his mother there.  Never sithence hath the castle stinted
of burning, and I tell you that of this castle and one other will be
kindled the fire that shall burn up the world and put it to an end."

Perceval marvelleth much, and knew well that it was the castle of King
Hermit his uncle.  He departeth thence in great haste, and passeth
three kingdoms and saileth by the wastes and deserts on one side and
the other of the sea, for the ship ran somewhat a-nigh the land.  He
looketh and seeth on an island twelve hermits sitting on the seashore.
The sea was calm and untroubled, and he made cast the anchor so as to
keep the ship steady.  Then he saluteth the hermits, and they all bow
down to him in answer.  He asketh them where have they their repair,
and they tell him that they have not far away twelve chapels and twelve
houses that surround a grave-yard wherein lie twelve dead knights that
we keep watch over.  They were all brothers-german, and right
worshipful men, and none thereof lived more than twelve years knight
save one only, and none of them was there but won much land and broad
kingdoms from the misbelievers, and they all died in arms; and the name
of the eldest was Alain li Gros, and he came into this country from the
Valleys of Camelot to avenge his brother Alibans of the Waste City that
the Giant King had slain, and he took vengeance on him thereof, but he
died thereafter of a wound that the Giant had given him.

"Sir," saith one of the hermits, "I was at his death, but nought was
there he so longed after as a son of his, and he said that his name was
Perceval.  He was the last of the brothers that died."

XVI.

When Perceval heard this he had pity thereof, and issued forth of the
ship and came to land, and his mariner with him.  He prayed the hermits
that they would lead him to the graveyard where the knights lay, and
gladly did they so.  Perceval is come thither and seeth the coffins
right rich and fair, and the chapels full fairly dight, and every
coffin lay over against the altar in each chapel.

"Lords, which coffin is that of the Lord of Camelot?"

"This, the highest," say the hermits, "and the most rich, for that he
was eldest of all the brethren."

Perceval kneeleth down before it, then embraceth the coffin and prayeth
right sweetly for the soul of his father, and in like manner he went to
all the other coffins.  He harboured the night with the hermits, and
told them that Alain li Gros was his father and all the other his
uncles.  Right joyous were the hermits for that he was come thither,
and the morrow, or ever he departed, he heard mass in the chapel of his
father and in the others where he might.  He entered into the ship and
sped full swift, and so far hath the ship run that he draweth nigh the
islands of Great Britain.  He arriveth at the head of a forest under
the Red Tower whereof he had slain the lord, there where Meliot
delivered Messire Gawain.  He is issued forth of the ship and leadeth
forth his horse and is armed, and commendeth the pilot to God.  He
mounteth on his destrier, all armed, and goeth amidst the land that was
well-nigh void of people, for he himself had slain the greater part
thereof, albeit he knew it not.  He rideth so long, right amidst the
country, that he cometh toward evensong to a hold that was in a great
forest, and he bethought him that he would go into the hermitage, and
he cometh straight into the hold, and seeth a knight lying in the
entrance of the gate on a straw mattress, and a damsel sate at the
bed's head, of passing great beauty, and held his head on her lap.

XVII.

The knight reviled her from time to time, and said that he would make
cut of her head and he had not that he desired to have, for that he was
sick.  Perceval looked at the lady that held him and served him full
sweetly, and deemed her to be a good lady and a loyal.  The Sick Knight
called to Perceval.

"Sir," saith he, "Are you come in hither to harbour?"

"Sir," saith Perceval, "So please you, I will harbour here."

"Then blame me not," saith the knight, "of that you shall see me do
unto my wife."

"Sir," saith Perceval, "Sith that she is yours, you have a right to do
your pleasure, but in all things ought one to be heedful on one's way."

The knight made him be carried back into the dwelling, for that he had
been in the air as long as pleased him, and commanded his wife that she
do much honour to the knight that is come to lodge within.

"But take heed," saith he, "that you be not seen at the table, but eat,
as you are wont, at the squire's table, for, until such time as I have
the golden cup I desire, I will not forego my despite against you."

XVIII.

Perceval unarmed him.  The lady had brought him a surcoat of scarlet
for him to do on, and he asked her wherefore her lord reviled her and
rebuked her in such sort, and she told him all the story how Lancelot
had married her to him, and how her lord ever sithence had dishonoured
her.

"Sir," saith she, "Now hath he fallen into misease, sithence then, and
he hath a brother as sick as he is, and therefore hath Gohaz of the
Castle of the Whale reft him of his land, whereof is he right sorry,
and my lord hath never been heal since that he heard thereof.  And well
you know that such folk wax wroth of a little, and are overjoyed when
they have a little thing that pleaseth them, for they live always in
desire of somewhat.  My lord hath heard tell of a cup of gold that a
damsel beareth, that is right rich and of greater worth than aught he
hath seen this long time, and a knight goeth with the damsel that
beareth the cup, and saith that none may have it save he be the Best
Knight in the World.  My lord hath told me many times, sithence he
heard tidings thereof, that never shall the despite he hath toward me
be forgone, until that he shall have the cup.  But he is so angry
withal with his brother that hath lost his land, that I aby it right
dear, for I do all his will and yet may I have no fair treatment of
him.  Howbeit, for no ill that he may do, nor no churlishness that he
may say, will I be against him in nought that he hath set his mind on.
For I would have him, and I had him, blessed be Lancelot through whom
it was so.  As much as I loved him in health, so much love I him in his
sickness, and more yet, for I desire to deserve that God shall bring
him to a better mind."

XIX.

"Lady," saith Perceval, "Great praise ought you to have of this that
you say; but you may well tell him of a truth that the sick King his
brother hath all his land freely and his daughter, for I was at the
reconquering thereof, and know the knight well that gave it back unto
him.  But of the golden cup can I give you no witting."

"Sir," saith she, "The damsel is to bear it to an assembly of knights
that is to be held hard by this, under the White Tower. There hath she
to give it to the best knight, and him that shall do best at the
assembly, and the knight that followeth the damsel is bound to carry it
whither he that shall win it may command, and if he would fain it
should be given to another rather than to himself."

"Lady," saith Perceval, "Well meseemeth that he who shall win the cup
by prize of arms will be right courteous and he send it to you, and God
grant that he that hath it may do you such bounty as you desire."

"Sir," saith she, "Methinketh well, so Lancelot were there, either he
or Messire Gawain, that, and they won it, so they remembered them of
me, and knew how needful it were to me, they would promise me the cup."

"Lady," saith Perceval, "By one of these twain ought you well to have
it, for greater prize now long since have they won."

She goeth to her lord and saith to him: "Sir," saith she, "Now may you
be more joyous than is your wont, for that your brother hath his land
again all quit.  For the knight that is within was at the reconquering."

The Sick Knight heard her and had great joy thereof.

"Go!" saith he to his wife, "and do great honour to the knight, but
take heed you sit not otherwise than you are wont."

"Sir," saith she, "I will not."

XX.

The damsel maketh Perceval sit at meat.  When he had washen, he thought
that the lady should have come to sit beside him, but she would not
disobey her lord's commandment.  When Perceval was set at the table and
he had been served of the first meats, thereupon the lady went to sit
with the squires.  Perceval was much shamed that she should sit below,
but he was not minded to speak, for she had told him somewhat of her
lord's manner.  Howbeit, he lay the night in the hold, and, on the
morrow when he had taken leave, he departed, and bethought him in his
courage that the knight would do good chivalry and great aims that
should do this sick knight his desire as concerning the cup, in such
sort as that his wife should be freed of the annoy that she is in, for
that all knights that knew thereof ought to have pity of her. Perceval
goeth his way as he that hath great desire to accomplish that he hath
to do, and to see the token of his going again to the castle where the
chain of gold appeared to him, for never yet saw he dwelling that
pleased him so much.  He hath ridden so far that he is come into the
joyless forest of the Black Hermit, that is so loathly and horrible
that no leaves nor greenery are there by winter nor by summer, nor was
song of bird never heard therein, but all the land is gruesome and
burnt, and wide are the cracks therein.  He hath scarce gone thereinto
or ever he hath overtaken the Damsel of the Car, that made full great
joy of him.

"Sir," saith she, "Bald was I the first time I saw you; now may you see
that I have my hair."

"Certes, yea!" saith Perceval, "And, as methinketh, hair passing
beautiful."

"Sir," saith she, "I was wont to carry my arm at my neck in a scarf of
gold and silk, for that I thought the service I did you in the hostel
of King Fisherman your uncle had been ill bestowed; but now well I see
that it was not; wherefore now carry I the one arm in the same manner
as the other; and the damsel that wont to go a-foot now goeth
a-horseback; and blessed be you that have so approved you in goodness
by the good manner of your heart, and by your likeness to the first of
your lineage, whom you resemble in all good conditions. Sir," saith
she, "I durst not come nigh the castle, for there be archers there that
shoot so sore that none may endure their strokes, and hereof will they
stint not, they say, until such time as you be come thither.  But well
know I wherefore they will cease then, for they will come to shut you
up within to slay and to destroy.  Natheless all they that are within
will have no power, nor will they do you evil, save only the lord of
the castle; but he will do battle against you right gladly."

XXI.

Perceval goeth toward the castle of the Black Hermit, and the Damsel of
the Car after.  The archers draw and shoot stoutly. Perceval goeth
forward a great gallop, but they know him not on account of the white
shield.  They think rather that it is one of the other knights, and
they lodge many arrows in his shield.  He came nigh a drawbridge over a
moat right broad and foul and horrible, and the bridge was lowered so
soon as he came, and all the archers left of shooting.  Then knew they
well that it was Perceval who came.  The door was opened to receive
him, for they of the gate and they of the castle within thought to have
power to slay him.  But so soon as they saw him, they lost their will
thereof and were all amared and without strength, and said that they
would set this business on their lord that was strong enough and
puissant enough to slay one man.  Perceval entered all armed into a
great hall, and found it filled all around with a great throng of folk
that was right foul to look on.  He that was called the Black Hermit
was full tall and Seemed to be of noble lordship, and he was in the
midst of the hall, all armed.

"Sir," say his men, "And you have not defence of yourself, never no
counsel nor aid may you have of us!"

XXII.

"We are yours to guard, to protect, and oftentimes have we defended
you; now defend us in this sore need."

The Black Hermit sate upon a tall black horse, and was right richly
armed.  So soon as Perceval espieth him, he cometh with such a rush
against him that he maketh all the hall resound, and the Black Hermit
cometh in like sort.  They mell together with such force that the Black
Hermit breaketh his spear upon Perceval, but Perceval smiteth him so
passing stoutly on the left side upon the shield, that he beareth him
to the ground beside his horse, so that in the fall he made he
to-frushed two of the great ribs in the overturn.  And when they that
were therein saw him fall, they opened the trap-door of a great pit
that was in the midst of the hall.  So soon as they had opened it, the
foulest stench that any smelt ever issued thereout.  They take their
lord and cast him into this abysm and this filth.  After that, they
come to Perceval, and so yield the castle and put them at his mercy in
everything.  Thereupon, behold you, the Damsel of the Car that cometh.
They deliver up to her the heads sealed in gold, both the head of the
King and of the Queen, and she departeth forthwith, for well knoweth
she that Perceval will achieve that he hath to do without her.  She
departeth from the castle and goeth the speediest she may toward the
Valleys of Camelot.  And all they of the castle that had been the Black
Hermit's are obedient to Perceval to do his will, and they have him in
covenant that never more shall knights be harassed there in such sort
as they had been theretofore, but rather that they should receive
gladly any knights that should pass that way, like as in other places.
Perceval departed from the castle rejoicing for that he had drawn them
to the believe of Our Lord, and every day was His service done therein
in holy wise, like as it is done in other places.

XXIII.

Hereof ought the good knight to be loved that by the goodness of his
heart and the loyalty of his knighthood hath achieved all the emprises
he undertook, without reproach and without blame. Perceval hath ridden
until he hath overtaken the damsel that carried the rich cup of gold
and the knight that was along with her.  Perceval saluteth him, and the
knight maketh answer, may he be blessed of God and of His sweet Mother.

"Fair Sir," saith Perceval, "Is this damsel of your company?"

Saith the knight, "Rather am I of hers.  But we are going to an
assembly of knights that is to be under the White Tower to the intent
to prove which knight is most worth, and to him that shall have the
prize of the assembly shall be delivered this golden cup."

"By my head," saith Perceval, "That will be fair to see!"

He departeth from the knight and the damsel, and goeth his way a great
pace amidst the meadows under the White Tower, whither the knights were
coming from all parts, and many of them were already armed to issue
forth.  So soon as it was known that the damsel with the cup was come
thither, the fellowships assembled on all sides, and great was the
clashing of arms.  Perceval hurleth into the assembly in such sort that
many a knight he smiteth down and overthroweth at his coming, and he
giveth so many blows and so many receiveth that all they that behold
marvel much how he may abide.  The assembly lasted until evensong, and
when it came to an end the damsel came to the knights and prayed and
required that they would declare to her by right judgment of arms which
had done the best.  The more part said that he of the white shield had
surpassed them all in arms, and all agreed thereto. The damsel was
right glad, for well she knew that they spake truth.  She cometh to
Perceval; "Sir," saith she, "I present you this cup of gold for your
good chivalry, and therefore is it meet and right you should know
whence the cup cometh.  The elder Damsel of the Tent where the evil
custom was wont to be, sent it to Messire Gawain, and Messire Gawain
made much joy thereof.  And it came to pass on such wise that Brundans,
the son of the sister of Briant of the Isles, slew Meliot of Logres,
the most courteous knight and the most valiant that was in the realm of
Logres, and thereof was Messire Gawain so sorrowful that he knew not
how to contain himself.  For Meliot had twice rescued him from death,
and King Arthur once.  He was liegeman of Messire Gawain. Wherefore he
prayeth and beseecheth you on his behalf that you receive not the cup
save you undertake to avenge him.  For he was loved of all the court,
albeit he had haunted it but little. Brundans slew him in treason when
Meliot was unawares of him."

"Damsel," saith Perceval, "Were there no cup at all, yet natheless
should I be fain to do the will of Messire Gawain, for never might I
love the man that had deserved his hatred."  He taketh the cup in his
hand.  "Damsel," saith he, "I thank you much hereof, and God grant I
may reward you for the same."

"Sir," saith she, "Brundans is a right proud knight, and beareth a
shield party of vert and argent.  He is minded never to change his
cognisance, for that his father bore the same."

Perceval called the knight that was of the damsel's company.  "I
beseech you," saith he, "of guerdon and of service, that you bear this
cup for me to the hold of the Sick Knight, and tell his wife that the
Knight of the White Shield that was harboured there within hath sent it
her by you."

"Sir," saith the knight, "This will I do gladly to fulfil your will."

He taketh the cup to furnish out the conditions of the message, and so
departeth forthwith.

XXIV.

Perceval lay the night in the castle of the White Tower, and departed
thence on the morrow as he that would fain do somewhat whereof he might
deserve well of Messire Gawain.  Many a time had he heard tell of
Meliot of Logres and of his chivalry and of his great valour.  He was
entered into a forest, and had heard mass of a hermit, from whom he had
departed.  He came to the Castle Perilous that was hard by there where
Meliot lay sick, lay wounded, when Lancelot brought him the sword and
the cloth wherewith he touched his wounds.  He entered into the castle
and alighted.  The damsel of the castle, that made great dole, came to
meet Perceval. "Damsel," saith he, "Wherefore are you so sorrowful?"

"Sir," saith she, "For a knight that I tended and healed herewithin,
whom Brundans hath killed in treason, and God thereof grant us
vengeance yet, for so courteous knight saw I never."

While she was speaking in this manner, forthwith behold you a damsel
that cometh.

"Ha, Sir," saith she to Perceval, "Mount you again and come to aid us,
for none other knight find I in this land nor in this forest but only
you all alone!"

"What need have you of my aid?" saith Perceval.

"A knight is carrying off my lady by force, that was going to the court
of King Arthur."

"Who is your lady?" saith Perceval.

"Sir, she is the younger Damsel of the Tent where Messire Gawain
overthrew the evil customs.  For God's sake, hasten you, for he
revileth her sore for her love of the King and of Messire Gawain."

Perceval remounteth forthwith and issueth forth of the castle on the
spur.  The damsel bringeth him on as fast as the knight can go.  They
had not ridden far before they came a-nigh, and Perceval heard the
damsel crying aloud for mercy, and the knight said that mercy upon her
he would not have, and so smote her on the head and neck with the fiat
of his sword.

XXV.

Perceval espied the knight and saw that the cognisance of his shield
was such as that which had been set forth to him.

"Sir," saith he, "Too churlishly are you entreating this damsel! What
wrong hath she done you?"

"What is it to you of me and of her?"

"I say it" saith Perceval, "for that no knight ought to do churlishly
to damsel."

"He will not stint for you yet!" saith Brundans.  He raiseth his sword
and dealeth the damsel a buffet with the fiat so passing heavy that it
maketh her stoop withal so that the blood rayeth out at mouth and nose.

"By my head," saith Perceval, "On this buffet I defy thee, for the
death of Meliot and for the shame you have done this damsel."

"Neither you nor none other may brag that you have heart to attack me,
but you shall aby it right dear!"

"That shall you see presently," saith Perceval and so draweth back the
better to let drive at him, and moveth towards him as fast as his horse
may run, and smiteth him so passing sore that he pierceth his shield
and bursteth his habergeon and then thrusteth his spear into his body
with such force that he overthroweth him all in a heap, him and his
horse, in such sort that he breaketh both legs in the fall.

Then he alighteth over him, lowereth his coif, unlaceth the ventail,
and smiteth off his head.

"Damsel," saith he, "Take it, I present it to you.  And, sith that you
are going to King Arthur's court, I pray and beseech you that you carry
it thither and so salute him first for me, and tell Messire Gawain and
Lancelot that this is the last present I look ever to make them, for I
think never to see them more. Howbeit, wheresoever I may be, I shall be
their well-wisher, nor may I never withdraw me of my love, and I would
fain I might make them the same present of the heads of all their
enemies, but that I may do nought against God's will."

The damsel giveth him thanks for that he hath delivered her from the
hands of the knight, and saith that she shall praise him much thereof
to the King and Messire Gawain.  She goeth her way and carrieth off the
head, and Perceval biddeth her to God.  He returned back to Castle
Perilous, and the damsel made great joy thereof when she understood
that he had slain Brundans.  Perceval lay there that night, and
departed on the morrow after that he had heard mass.  When he came
forth of the castle he met the knight by whom he had sent the cup to
the Sick Knight's wife. Perceval asketh how it is with him.

"Sir," saith he, "I have carried out your message right well, for never
was a thing received with such good will.  The Sick Knight hath forgone
his grudge against his wife.  She eateth at his table, and the
household do her commandment."

"This liketh me right well," saith Perceval, "and I thank you of doing
this errand."

"Sir," saith the knight, "No thing is there I would not do for you, for
that you made my brother Knight Hardy there where you first saw him
Knight Coward."

"Sir," saith Perceval, "Good knight was your brother and a right good
end he made, but a little it forthinketh me that he might have still
been living had he abided in his cowardize."

"Sir," saith he, "Better is he dead, sith that he died with honour,
than that he should live with shame.  Yet glad was I not of his death,
for a hardy knight he was, and yet more would have been, had he lived
longer."

XXVI.

Perceval departeth from the knight and commendeth him to God.  He hath
wandered so far one day and another that he is returned to his own most
holy castle, and findeth therein his mother and his sister that the
Damsel of the Car had brought thither.  The Widow Lady had made bear
thither the body that lay in the coffin before the castle of Camelot in
the rich chapel that she had builded there.  His sister brought the
cerecloth that she took in the Waste Chapel, and presented there where
the Graal was.  Perceval made bring the coffin of the other knight that
was at the entrance of his castle within the chapel likewise, and place
it beside the coffin of his uncle, nor never thereafter might it be
removed.  Josephus telleth us that Perceval was in this castle long
time, nor never once moved therefrom in quest of no adventure; rather
was his courage so attorned to the Saviour of the World and His sweet
Mother, that he and his sister and the damsel that was therein led a
holy life and a religious.  Therein abode they even as it pleased God,
until that his mother passed away and his sister and all they that were
therein save he alone. The hermits that were nigh the castle buried
them and sang their masses, and came every day and took counsel of him
for the holiness they saw him do and the good life that he led there.
So one day whilst he was in the holy chapel where the hallows were,
forthwith, behold you, a Voice that cometh down therein: "Perceval,"
saith the Voice, "Not long shall you abide herein; wherefore it is
God's will that you dispart the hallows amongst the hermits of the
forest, there where these bodies shall be served and worshipped, and
the most Holy Graal shall appear herein no more, but within a brief
space shall you know well the place where it shall be."

When the Voice departed, all the coffins that were therein crashed so
passing loud that it seemed the master-hall had fallen.  He crosseth
and blesseth him and commendeth him to God. On a day the hermits came
to him.  He disparted the holy relics among them, and they builded
above them holy churches and houses of religion that are seen in the
lands and in the islands. Joseus the son of King Hermit, remained
therein with Perceval, for he well knew that he would be departing
thence betimes.

XXVII.

Perceval heard one day a bell sound loud and high without the manor
toward the sea.  He came to the windows of the hall and saw the ship
come with the white sail and the Red Cross thereon, and within were the
fairest folk that ever he might behold, and they were all robed in such
manner as though they should sing mass. When the ship was anchored
under the hall they went to pray in the most holy chapel.  They brought
the richest vessels of gold and silver that any might ever see, like as
it were coffins, and set therein one of the three bodies of knights
that had been brought into the chapel, and the body of King Fisherman,
and of the mother of Perceval.  But no savour in the world smelleth so
sweet.  Perceval took leave of Joseus and commended him to the Saviour
of the World, and took leave of the household, from whom he departed in
like manner.  The worshipful men that were in the ship signed them of
the cross and blessed them likewise.  The ship wherein Perceval was
drew far away, and a Voice that issued from the manor as she departed
commended them to God and to His sweet Mother.  Josephus recordeth us
that Perceval departed in such wise, nor never thereafter did no
earthly man know what became of him, nor doth the history speak of him
more.  But the history telleth us that Joseus abode in the castle that
had been King Fisherman's, and shut himself up therein so that none
might enter, and lived upon that the Lord God might send him.  He dwelt
there long time after that Perceval had departed, and ended therein.
After his end, the dwelling began to fall.  Natheless never was the
chapel wasted nor decayed, but was as whole thereafter as tofore and is
so still.  The place was far from folk, and the place seemed withal to
be somewhat different.  When it was fallen into decay, many folk of the
lands and islands that were nighest thereunto marvel them what may be
in this manor. They dare a many that they should go see what was
therein, and sundry folk went thither from all the lands, but none
durst never enter there again save two Welsh knights that had heard
tell of it.  Full comely knights they were, young and joyous hearted.
So either pledged him to other that they would go thither by way of gay
adventure; but therein remained they of a long space after, and when
again they came forth they led the life of hermits, and clad them in
hair shirts, and went by the forest and so ate nought save roots only,
and led a right hard life; yet ever they made as though they were glad,
and if that any should ask whereof they rejoiced in such wise, "Go,"
said they to them that asked, "thither where we have been, and you
shall know the wherefore."

In such sort made they answer to the folk.  These two knights died in
this holy life, nor were none other tidings never brought thence by
them.  They of that land called them saints.

XXVIII. Here endeth the story of the most Holy Graal.  Josephus, by
whom it is placed on record, giveth the benison of Our Lord to all that
hear and honour it.  The Latin from whence this history was drawn into
Romance was taken in the Isle of Avalon, in a holy house of religion
that standeth at the head of the Moors Adventurous, there where King
Arthur and Queen Guenievre lie, according to the witness of the good
men religious that are therein, that have the whole history thereof,
true from the beginning even to the end.  After this same history
beginneth the story how Briant of the Isles renounced King Arthur on
account of Lancelot whom he loved not, and how he assured King Claudas
that reft King Ban of Benoic of his land.  This story telleth how he
conquered him and by what means, and how Galobrus of the Red Launde
came to King Arthur's court to help Lancelot, for that he was of his
lineage.  This story is right long and right adventurous and weighty,
but the book will now forthwith be silent thereof until another time.

THE AUTHOR'S CONCLUSION

For the Lord of Neele made the Lord of Cambrein this book be written,
that never tofore was treated in Romance but one single time besides
this; and the book that was made tofore this is so ancient that only
with great pains may one make out the letter. And let Messire Johan de
Neele well understand that he ought to hold this story dear, nor ought
he tell nought thereof to ill-understanding folk, for a good thing that
is squandered upon bad folk is never remembered by them for good.

EXPLICIT THE ROMANCE OF PERCEVAL THE NEPHEW OF KING FISHERMAN.

End of Project Gutenberg's High History of the Holy Graal, by Unknown