Book: Le Morte Darthur

T >> Thomas Malory >> Le Morte Darthur




Now, Sir Gawaine, said the good man, thou must
do penance for thy sin. Sir, what penance shall I do?
Such as I will give, said the good man. Nay, said
Sir Gawaine, I may do no penance; for we knights
adventurous oft suffer great woe and pain. Well, said
the good man, and then he held his peace. And on the
morn Sir Gawaine departed from the hermit, and betaught
him unto God. And by adventure he met with Sir
Aglovale and Sir Griflet, two knights of the Table
Round. And they two rode four days without finding
of any adventure, and at the fifth day they departed.
And everych held as fell them by adventure. Here
leaveth the tale of Sir Gawaine and his fellows, and speak
we of Sir Galahad.



CHAPTER XVII

How Sir Galahad met with Sir Launcelot and Sir Percivale,
and smote them down, and departed from them.

So when Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of
Maidens he rode till he came to a waste forest, and
there he met with Sir Launcelot and Sir Percivale, but
they knew him not, for he was new disguised. Right so
Sir Launcelot, his father, dressed his spear and brake it
upon Sir Galahad, and Galahad smote him so again
that he smote down horse and man. And then he
drew his sword, and dressed him unto Sir Percivale, and
smote him so on the helm, that it rove to the coif of
steel; and had not the sword swerved Sir Percivale had
been slain, and with the stroke he fell out of his saddle.
This jousts was done to-fore the hermitage where a
recluse dwelled. And when she saw Sir Galahad ride,
she said: God be with thee, best knight of the world.
Ah certes, said she, all aloud that Launcelot and Percivale
might hear it: An yonder two knights had known thee
as well as I do they would not have encountered with
thee. Then Sir Galahad heard her say so he was adread
to be known: therewith he smote his horse with his
spurs and rode a great pace froward them. Then
perceived they both that he was Galahad; and up they
gat on their horses, and rode fast after him, but in a
while he was out of their sight. And then they turned
again with heavy cheer. Let us spere some tidings,
said Percivale, at yonder recluse. Do as ye list, said Sir
Launcelot.

When Sir Percivale came to the recluse she knew him
well enough, and Sir Launcelot both. But Sir Launcelot
rode overthwart and endlong in a wild forest, and held
no path but as wild adventure led him. And at the last
he came to a stony cross which departed two ways in
waste land; and by the cross was a stone that was of
marble, but it was so dark that Sir Launcelot might
not wit what it was. Then Sir Launcelot looked by
him, and saw an old chapel, and there he weened to
have found people; and Sir Launcelot tied his horse till
a tree, and there he did off his shield and hung it upon
a tree, and then went to the chapel door, and found
it waste and broken. And within he found a fair altar,
full richly arrayed with cloth of clean silk, and there
stood a fair clean candlestick, which bare six great
candles, and the candlestick was of silver. And when
Sir Launcelot saw this light he had great will for to enter
into the chapel, but he could find no place where he
might enter; then was he passing heavy and dismayed.
Then he returned and came to his horse and did off his
saddle and bridle, and let him pasture, and unlaced his
helm, and ungirt his sword, and laid him down to sleep
upon his shield to-fore the cross.



CHAPTER XVIII

How Sir Launcelot, half sleeping and half waking, saw a
sick man borne in a litter, and how he was healed with
the Sangreal.


AND so he fell asleep; and half waking and sleeping he
saw come by him two palfreys all fair and white, the
which bare a litter, therein lying a sick knight. And
when he was nigh the cross he there abode still. All this
Sir Launcelot saw and beheld, for he slept not verily;
and he heard him say: O sweet Lord, when shall this
sorrow leave me? and when shall the holy vessel come by
me, wherethrough I shall be blessed? For I have endured
thus long, for little trespass. A full great while
complained the knight thus, and always Sir Launcelot heard
it. With that Sir Launcelot saw the candlestick with
the six tapers come before the cross, and he saw nobody
that brought it. Also there came a table of silver, and
the holy vessel of the Sangreal, which Launcelot had
seen aforetime in King Pescheour's house. And therewith
the sick knight set him up, and held up both his
hands, and said: Fair sweet Lord, which is here within
this holy vessel; take heed unto me that I may be whole
of this malady. And therewith on his hands and on
his knees he went so nigh that he touched the holy
vessel and kissed it, and anon he was whole; and then he
said: Lord God, I thank thee, for I am healed of this
sickness.

So when the holy vessel had been there a great
while it went unto the chapel with the chandelier and
the light, so that Launcelot wist not where it was
become; for he was overtaken with sin that he had
no power to rise again the holy vessel; wherefore after
that many men said of him shame, but he took repentance
after that. Then the sick knight dressed him up
and kissed the cross; anon his squire brought him his
arms, and asked his lord how he did. Certes, said he,
I thank God right well, through the holy vessel I am
healed. But I have marvel of this sleeping knight that
had no power to awake when this holy vessel was
brought hither. I dare right well say, said the squire,
that he dwelleth in some deadly sin whereof he was
never confessed. By my faith, said the knight, whatsomever
he be he is unhappy, for as I deem he is of the
fellowship of the Round Table, the which is entered
into the quest of the Sangreal. Sir, said the squire,
here I have brought you all your arms save your helm
and your sword, and therefore by mine assent now may
ye take this knight's helm and his sword: and so he
did. And when he was clean armed he took Sir
Launcelot's horse, for he was better than his; and so
departed they from the cross.



CHAPTER XIX

How a voice spake to Sir Launcelot, and how he found his
horse and his helm borne away, and after went afoot.


THEN anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set him up, and
bethought him what he had seen there, and whether it
were dreams or not. Right so heard he a voice that
said: Sir Launcelot, more harder than is the stone,
and more bitter than is the wood, and more naked
and barer than is the leaf of the fig tree; therefore go
thou from hence, and withdraw thee from this holy
place. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he was
passing heavy and wist not what to do, and so departed
sore weeping, and cursed the time that he was born.
For then he deemed never to have had worship more.
For those words went to his heart, till that he knew
wherefore he was called so. Then Sir Launcelot went
to the cross and found his helm, his sword, and his
horse taken away. And then he called himself a very
wretch, and most unhappy of all knights; and there he
said: My sin and my wickedness have brought me unto
great dishonour. For when I sought worldly adventures
for worldly desires, I ever enchieved them and had the
better in every place, and never was I discomfit in no
quarrel, were it right or wrong. And now I take upon
me the adventures of holy things, and now I see and
understand that mine old sin hindereth me and shameth
me, so that I had no power to stir nor speak when the
holy blood appeared afore me. So thus he sorrowed till
it was day, and heard the fowls sing: then somewhat he
was comforted. But when Sir Launcelot missed his horse
and his harness then he wist well God was displeased
with him.

Then he departed from the cross on foot into a forest;
and so by prime he came to an high hill, and found an
hermitage and a hermit therein which was going unto
mass. And then Launcelot kneeled down and cried on
Our Lord mercy for his wicked works. So when mass
was done Launcelot called him, and prayed him for
charity for to hear his life. With a good will, said the
good man. Sir, said he, be ye of King Arthur's court
and of the fellowship of the Round Table? Yea forsooth,
and my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake that hath been
right well said of, and now my good fortune is changed,
for I am the most wretch of the world. The hermit
beheld him and had marvel how he was so abashed. Sir,
said the hermit, ye ought to thank God more than any
knight living, for He hath caused you to have more
worldly worship than any knight that now liveth. And
for your presumption to take upon you in deadly sin for
to be in His presence, where His flesh and His blood was,
that caused you ye might not see it with worldly eyes;
for He will not appear where such sinners be, but if it be
unto their great hurt and unto their great shame; and
there is no knight living now that ought to give God so
great thank as ye, for He hath given you beauty,
seemliness, and great strength above all other knights; and
therefore ye are the more beholding unto God than any
other man, to love Him and dread Him, for your
strength and manhood will little avail you an God be
against you.



CHAPTER XX

How Sir Launcelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made
and of the good ensamples which were shewed him.


THEN Sir Launcelot wept with heavy cheer, and said:
Now I know well ye say me sooth. Sir, said the good
man, hide none old sin from me. Truly, said Sir Launcelot,
that were me full loath to discover. For this fourteen
year I never discovered one thing that I have used, and
that may I now wite my shame and my disadventure.
And then he told there that good man all his life. And
how he had loved a queen unmeasurably and out of
measure long. And all my great deeds of arms that I
have done, I did for the most part for the queen's sake,
and for her sake would I do battle were it right or wrong,
and never did I battle all only for God's sake, but for to
win worship and to cause me to be the better beloved
and little or nought I thanked God of it. Then Sir
Launcelot said: I pray you counsel me. I will counsel
you, said the hermit, if ye will ensure me that ye will
never come in that queen's fellowship as much as ye may
forbear. And then Sir Launcelot promised him he nold,
by the faith of his body. Look that your heart and your
mouth accord, said the good man, and I shall ensure you
ye shall have more worship than ever ye had.

Holy father, said Sir Launcelot, I marvel of the voice
that said to me marvellous words, as ye have heard to-
forehand. Have ye no marvel, said the good man
thereof, for it seemeth well God loveth you; for men
may understand a stone is hard of kind, and namely one
more than another; and that is to understand by thee, Sir
Launcelot, for thou wilt not leave thy sin for no goodness
that God hath sent thee; therefore thou art more than
any stone, and never wouldst thou be made nesh nor by
water nor by fire, and that is the heat of the Holy Ghost
may not enter in thee. Now take heed, in all the world
men shall not find one knight to whom Our Lord hath
given so much of grace as He hath given you, for He
hath given you fairness with seemliness, He hath given
thee wit, discretion to know good from evil, He hath
given thee prowess and hardiness, and given thee to work
so largely that thou hast had at all days the better
wheresomever thou came; and now Our Lord will suffer thee
no longer, but that thou shalt know Him whether thou
wilt or nylt. And why the voice called thee bitterer than
wood, for where overmuch sin dwelleth, there may be but
little sweetness, wherefore thou art likened to an old
rotten tree.

Now have I shewed thee why thou art harder than the
stone and bitterer than the tree. Now shall I shew thee
why thou art more naked and barer than the fig tree.
It befell that Our Lord on Palm Sunday preached in
Jerusalem, and there He found in the people that all
hardness was harboured in them, and there He found in
all the town not one that would harbour him. And then
He went without the town, and found in midst of the
way a fig tree, the which was right fair and well garnished
of leaves, but fruit had it none. Then Our Lord cursed
the tree that bare no fruit; that betokeneth the fig tree
unto Jerusalem, that had leaves and no fruit. So thou,
Sir Launcelot, when the Holy Grail was brought afore
thee, He found in thee no fruit, nor good thought nor
good will, and defouled with lechery. Certes, said Sir
Launcelot, all that you have said is true, and from
henceforward I cast me, by the grace of God, never to be so
wicked as I have been, but as to follow knighthood and
to do feats of arms.

Then the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot such
penance as he might do and to sewe knighthood, and so
assoiled him, and prayed Sir Launcelot to abide with him
all that day. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for I have
neither helm, nor horse, nor sword. As for that, said the
good man, I shall help you or to-morn at even of an horse,
and all that longed unto you. And then Sir Launcelot
repented him greatly.

followeth of Sir Percivale de Galis, which is the
fourteenth book.>



BOOK XIV


CHAPTER I

How Sir Percivale came to a recluse and asked counsel, and
how she told him that she was his aunt.


NOW saith the tale, that when Sir Launcelot was ridden
after Sir Galahad, the which had all these adventures
above said, Sir Percivale turned again unto the recluse,
where he deemed to have tidings of that knight that
Launcelot followed. And so he kneeled at her window,
and the recluse opened it and asked Sir Percivale what he
would. Madam, he said, I am a knight of King Arthur's
court, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis. When the
recluse heard his name she had great joy of him, for
mickle she had loved him to-fore any other knight, for she
ought to do so, for she was his aunt. And then she
commanded the gates to be opened, and there he had all
the cheer that she might make him, and all that was in
her power was at his commandment.

So on the morn Sir Percivale went to the recluse and
asked her if she knew that knight with the white shield.
Sir, said she, why would ye wit? Truly, madam, said Sir
Percivale, I shall never be well at ease till that I know of
that knight's fellowship, and that I may fight with him,
for I may not leave him so lightly, for I have the shame
yet. Ah, Percivale, said she, would ye fight with him?
I see well ye have great will to be slain as your father
was, through outrageousness. Madam, said Sir Percivale,
it seemeth by your words that ye know me. Yea, said
she, I well ought to know you, for I am your aunt,
although I be in a priory place. For some called me
sometime the Queen of the Waste Lands, and I was called
the queen of most riches in the world; and it pleased
me never my riches so much as doth my poverty. Then
Sir Percivale wept for very pity when that he knew it
was his aunt. Ah, fair nephew, said she, when heard ye
tidings of your mother? Truly, said he, I heard none of
her, but I dream of her much in my sleep; and therefore
I wot not whether she be dead or alive. Certes, fair
nephew, said she, your mother is dead, for after your
departing from her she took such a sorrow that anon,
after she was confessed, she died. Now, God have mercy
on her soul, said Sir Percivale, it sore forthinketh me;
but all we must change the life. Now, fair aunt, tell me
what is the knight? I deem it be he that bare the red
arms on Whitsunday. Wit you well, said she, that this
is he, for otherwise ought he not to do, but to go in red
arms; and that same knight hath no peer, for he worketh
all by miracle, and he shall never be overcome of none
earthly man's hand.



CHAPTER II

How Merlin likened the Round Table to the world, and how
the knights that should achieve the Sangreal should be
known.


ALSO Merlin made the Round Table in tokening of roundness
of the world, for by the Round Table is the world
signified by right, for all the world, Christian and heathen,
repair unto the Round Table; and when they are chosen
to be of the fellowship of the Round Table they think them
more blessed and more in worship than if they had gotten
half the world; and ye have seen that they have lost their
fathers and their mothers, and all their kin, and their wives
and their children, for to be of your fellowship. It is well
seen by you; for since ye have departed from your mother
ye would never see her, ye found such fellowship at the
Round Table. When Merlin had ordained the Round
Table he said, by them which should be fellows of the
Round Table the truth of the Sangreal should be well
known. And men asked him how men might know them
that should best do and to enchieve the Sangreal? Then
he said there should be three white bulls that should enchieve
it, and the two should be maidens, and the third should be
chaste. And that one of the three should pass his father
as much as the lion passeth the leopard, both of strength
and hardiness.

They that heard Merlin say so said thus unto Merlin:
Sithen there shall be such a knight, thou shouldest ordain
by thy crafts a siege, that no man should sit in it but he
all only that shall pass all other knights. Then Merlin
answered that he would do so. And then he made the
Siege Perilous, in the which Galahad sat in at his meat on
Whitsunday last past. Now, madam, said Sir Percivale,
so much have I heard of you that by my good will I will
never have ado with Sir Galahad but by way of kindness;
and for God's love, fair aunt, can ye teach me some way
where I may find him? for much would I love the fellowship
of him. Fair nephew, said she, ye must ride unto a
castle the which is called Goothe, where he hath a cousin-
germain, and there may ye be lodged this night. And as
he teacheth you, seweth after as fast as ye can; and if he
can tell you no tidings of him, ride straight unto the Castle
of Carbonek, where the maimed king is there lying, for
there shall ye hear true tidings of him.



CHAPTER III

How Sir Percivale came into a monastery, where he found
King Evelake, which was an old man.


THEN departed Sir Percivale from his aunt, either making
great sorrow. And so he rode till evensong time. And
then he heard a clock smite; and then he was ware of an
house closed well with walls and deep ditches, and there he
knocked at the gate and was let in, and he alighted and
was led unto a chamber, and soon he was unarmed. And
there he had right good cheer all that night; and on the
morn he heard his mass, and in the monastery he found a
priest ready at the altar. And on the right side he saw a
pew closed with iron, and behind the altar he saw a rich
bed and a fair, as of cloth of silk and gold.

Then Sir Percivale espied that therein was a man or a
woman, for the visage was covered; then he left off his
looking and heard his service. And when it came to the
sacring, he that lay within that parclos dressed him up, and
uncovered his head; and then him beseemed a passing old
man, and he had a crown of gold upon his head, and his
shoulders were naked and unhilled unto his navel. And
then Sir Percivale espied his body was full of great wounds,
both on the shoulders, arms, and visage. And ever he held
up his hands against Our Lord's body, and cried: Fair,
sweet Father, Jesu Christ, forget not me. And so he lay
down, but always he was in his prayers and orisons; and
him seemed to be of the age of three hundred winter. And
when the mass was done the priest took Our Lord's body
and bare it to the sick king. And when he had used it he
did off his crown, and commanded the crown to be set on
the altar.

Then Sir Percivale asked one of the brethren what he
was. Sir, said the good man, ye have heard much of
Joseph of Aramathie, how he was sent by Jesu Christ into
this land for to teach and preach the holy Christian faith;
and therefore he suffered many persecutions the which the
enemies of Christ did unto him, and in the city of Sarras
he converted a king whose name was Evelake. And so
this king came with Joseph into this land, and ever he was
busy to be thereas the Sangreal was; and on a time he
nighed it so nigh that Our Lord was displeased with him,
but ever he followed it more and more, till God struck
him almost blind. Then this king cried mercy, and
said: Fair Lord, let me never die till the good knight
of my blood of the ninth degree be come, that I may
see him openly that he shall enchieve the Sangreal, that
I may kiss him.



CHAPTER IV

How Sir Percivale saw many men of arms bearing a dead
knight, and how he fought against them.


WHEN the king thus had made his prayers he heard a voice
that said: Heard be thy prayers, for thou shalt not die till
he have kissed thee. And when that knight shall come
the clearness of your eyes shall come again, and thou shalt
see openly, and thy wounds shall be healed, and erst shall
they never close. And this befell of King Evelake, and
this same king hath lived this three hundred winters this
holy life, and men say the knight is in the court that shall
heal him. Sir, said the good man, I pray you tell me what
knight that ye be, and if ye be of King Arthur's court and
of the Table Round. Yea forsooth, said he, and my name
is Sir Percivale de Galis. And when the good man understood
his name he made great joy of him.

And then Sir Percivale departed and rode till the hour
of noon. And he met in a valley about a twenty men of
arms, which bare in a bier a knight deadly slain. And
when they saw Sir Percivale they asked him of whence he
was. And he answered: Of the court of King Arthur.
Then they cried all at once: Slay him. Then Sir Percivale
smote the first to the earth and his horse upon him. And
then seven of the knights smote upon his shield all at once,
and the remnant slew his horse so that he fell to the earth.
So had they slain him or taken him had not the good knight,
Sir Galahad, with the red arms come there by adventure
into those parts. And when he saw all those knights upon
one knight he cried: Save me that knight's life. And then
he dressed him toward the twenty men of arms as fast as
his horse might drive, with his spear in the rest, and smote
the foremost horse and man to the earth. And when his
spear was broken he set his hand to his sword, and smote
on the right hand and on the left hand that it was marvel
to see, and at every stroke he smote one down or put him
to a rebuke, so that they would fight no more but fled to
a thick forest, and Sir Galahad followed them.

And when Sir Percivale saw him chase them so, he
made great sorrow that his horse was away. And then
he wist well it was Sir Galahad. And then he cried aloud:
Ah fair knight, abide and suffer me to do thankings unto
thee, for much have ye done for me. But ever Sir Galahad
rode so fast that at the last he passed out of his sight. And
as fast as Sir Percivale might he went after him on foot,
crying. And then he met with a yeoman riding upon an
hackney, the which led in his hand a great steed blacker
than any bear. Ah, fair friend, said Sir Percivale, as ever
I may do for you, and to be your true knight in the first
place ye will require me, that ye will lend me that black
steed, that I might overtake a knight the which rideth
afore me. Sir knight, said the yeoman, I pray you hold
me excused of that, for that I may not do. For wit ye
well, the horse is such a man's horse, that an I lent it you
or any man, that he would slay me. Alas, said Sir Percivale,
I had never so great sorrow as I have had for losing of
yonder knight. Sir, said the yeoman, I am right heavy
for you, for a good horse would beseem you well; but I
dare not deliver you this horse but if ye would take him
from me. That will I not do, said Sir Percivale. And so
they departed; and Sir Percivale set him down under a tree,
and made sorrow out of measure. And as he was there,
there came a knight riding on the horse that the yeoman
led, and he was clean armed.



CHAPTER V

How a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how
Sir Percivale's hackney was slain, and how he gat an
horse.


AND anon the yeoman came pricking after as fast as ever
he might, and asked Sir Percivale if he saw any knight
riding on his black steed. Yea, sir, forsooth, said he;
why, sir, ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that steed he hath
benome me with strength; wherefore my lord will slay
me in what place he findeth me. Well, said Sir Percivale,
what wouldst thou that I did? Thou seest well that I am
on foot, but an I had a good horse I should bring him
soon again. Sir, said the yeoman, take mine hackney and
do the best ye can, and I shall sewe you on foot to wit
how that ye shall speed. Then Sir Percivale alighted
upon that hackney, and rode as fast as he might, and at
the last he saw that knight. And then he cried: Knight,
turn again; and he turned and set his spear against Sir
Percivale, and he smote the hackney in the midst of the
breast that he fell down dead to the earth, and there he
had a great fall, and the other rode his way. And then
Sir Percivale was wood wroth, and cried: Abide, wicked
knight; coward and false-hearted knight, turn again and
fight with me on foot. But he answered not, but passed
on his way.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.