Chapter XXXI: Part 31

Then, as it befel by fortune and adventure, Sir Bors de Ganis, that was nephew unto Sir Launcelot, came over that bridge, and there Sir Bromel and Sir Bors justed, and Sir Bors smote Sir Bromel such a buffet that he bare him over his horse croup. And then Sir Bromel, as an hardy knight, pulled out his sword and dressed his shield, to do battle with Sir Bors. And then Sir Bors alight and avoided his horse, and there they dashed together many sad strokes, and long thus they fought, till at the last Sir Bromel was laid to the earth, and there Sir Bors began to unlace his helm to slay him. Then Sir Bromel cried Sir Bors’ mercy, and yielded him. Upon this covenant thou shalt have thy life, said Sir Bors, so thou go unto Sir Launcelot upon Whitsunday that next cometh, and yield thee unto him as knight recreant. I will do it, said Sir Bromel: and that he sware upon the cross of the sword, and so he let him depart. And Sir Bors rode unto king Pelles that was within Corbin. And when the king and Elaine his daughter wist that Sir Bors was nephew unto Sir Launcelot, they made him great cheer. Then said dame Elaine, We marvel where Sir Launcelot is, for he came never here but once. Marvel not, said Sir Bors, for this half year he hath been in prison with queen Morgan le Fay, king Arthur’s sister. Alas, said dame Elaine, that me repenteth. And ever Sir Bors beheld that child in her arms, and ever him seemed it was passing like Sir Launcelot. Truly, said dame Elaine, wit ye well this is his child. Then Sir Bors wept for joy, and he prayed to God it might prove as good a knight as his father was. And so came in a white dove, and she bare a little censer of gold in her mouth, and there was all manner of meats and drinks, and a maiden bare that Sancgreal, and she said openly, Wit you well Sir Bors that this child is Galahad, that shall sit in the siege perilous, and achieve the Sancgreal, and he shall be much better than ever was Sir Launcelot du Lake, that is his own father. And then they kneeled down and made their devotions, and there was such a savour as all the spicery in the world had been there. And when the dove took her flight, the maiden vanished with the Sancgreal as she came. Sir, said Sir Bors unto king Pelles, this castle may be named the castle adventurous, for here be many strange adventures. That is soth, said the king. For well may this place be called the adventurous place, for there come but few knights here that go away with any worship; be he never so strong, here he may be proved, and but late Sir Gawaine the good knight gat but little worship here. For I let you wit, said king Pelles, here shall no knight win no worship but if he be of worship himself, and of good living, and that loveth God, and dreadeth God, and else he getteth no worship here, be he never so hardy. That is a wonderful thing, said Sir Bors. What ye mean in this country I wot not, for ye have many strange adventures, and therefore I will lie in this castle this night. Ye shall not do so, said king Pelles, by my counsel, for it is hard and ye escape without a shame. I shall take the adventure that will befal me, said Sir Bors. Then I counsel you, said the king, to be confessed clean. As for that, said Sir Bors, I will be shriven with a good will. So Sir Bors was confessed, and for all women Sir Bors was a virgin, save for one, that was the daughter of king Brangoris, and their child hight Helin, and save for her Sir Bors was a pure maiden. And so he was led unto bed in a fair large chamber, and many doors were shut about the chamber. When Sir Bors espied all those doors, he avoided all the people, for he might have nobody with him; but in no wise Sir Bors would unarm him, but so he laid him down upon the bed. And right so he saw come in a light that he might well see a spear great and long, that came straight upon him pointling, and to Sir Bors seemed that the head of the spear burnt like a taper. And anon, or Sir Bors wist, the spear head smote him into the shoulder an hand breadth in deepness, and that wound grieved Sir Bors passing sore. And then he laid him down again for pain, and anon therewithal came a knight armed with his shield on his shoulder, and his sword in his hand, and he bad Sir Bors, Arise sir knight, and fight with me. I am sore hurt, he said, but yet I shall not fail thee. And then Sir Bors start up and dressed his shield, and then they lashed together mightily a great while. And at the last Sir Bors bare him backward, until that he came unto a chamber door, and there that knight went into that chamber, and rested him a great while. And when he had reposed him he came out freshly again, and began new battle with Sir Bors mightily and strongly.

CHAP. V.

_How Sir Bors made Sir Pedivere to yield him, and of marvellous
adventures that he had, and how he achieved them._

Then Sir Bors thought he should no more go into that chamber to rest him, and so Sir Bors dressed him betwixt the knight and that chamber door, and there Sir Bors smote him down, and then that knight yielded him. What is your name? said Sir Bors. Sir, said he, my name is Pedivere of the Straight Marches. So Sir Bors made him to swear at Whitsunday next coming to be at the court of king Arthur and yield him there as a prisoner, as an overcome knight by the hands of Sir Bors. So thus departed Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches. And then Sir Bors laid him down to rest, and then he heard and felt much noise in that chamber; and then Sir Bors espied that there came in, he wist not whether at the doors or windows, shot of arrows and of quarels, so thick that he marvelled, and many fell upon him and hurt him in the bare places. And then Sir Bors was ware where came in an hideous lion; so Sir Bors dressed him unto the lion, and anon the lion bereft him of his shield, and with his sword Sir Bors smote off the lion’s head.

Right so Sir Bors forthwithal saw a dragon in the court, passing horrible, and there seemed letters of gold written in his forehead; and Sir Bors thought that the letters made a signification of king Arthur. Right so there came an horrible libard and an old, and there they fought long, and did great battle together. And at the last the dragon spit out of his mouth as it had been an hundred dragons, and lightly all the small dragons slew the old dragon, and tare him all to pieces. Anon withal there came an old man into the hall, and he sat him down in a fair chair, and there seemed to be two adders about his neck, and then the old man had an harp, and there he sang an old song, how Joseph of Aramathie came into this land. Then when he had sung, the old man bad Sir Bors—Go from thence, for here shall ye have no more adventures, and full worshipfully have ye done, and better shall ye do hereafter. And then Sir Bors seemed that there came the whitest dove with a little golden censer in her mouth; and anon therewithal the tempest ceased and passed that afore was marvellous to hear. So was all that court full of good savours. Then Sir Bors saw four children bearing four fair tapers, and an old man in the midst of the children with a censer in his one hand, and a spear in his other hand, and that spear was called the spear of vengeance.

CHAP. VI.

_How Sir Bors departed; and how Sir Launcelot was rebuked of queen
Guenever, and of his excuse._

Now, said that old man to Sir Bors, go ye to your cousin Sir Launcelot, and tell him of this adventure, the which had been most convenient for him of all earthly knights, but sin is so foul in him he may not achieve such holy deeds; for, had not been his sin, he had passed all the knights that ever were in his days. And tell thou Sir Launcelot, of all worldly adventures he passeth in manhood and prowess all other, but in these spiritual matters he shall have many his better. And then Sir Bors saw four gentlewomen coming by him poorly beseen, and he saw where that they entered into a chamber where was great light, as it were a summer light, and the women kneeled down afore an altar of silver with four pillars, and as it had been a bishop kneeled down afore that table of silver. And as Sir Bors looked over his head, he saw a sword like silver, naked, hoving over his head, and the clearness thereof smote so in his eyes that at that time Sir Bors was blind, and there he heard a voice that said, Go hence, thou Sir Bors, for as yet thou art not worthy for to be in this place. And then he went backward to his bed till on the morn. And on the morn king Pelles made great joy of Sir Bors, and then he departed and rode to Camelot, and there he found Sir Launcelot du Lake, and told him of the adventures he had seen with king Pelles at Corbin. So the noise sprang in king Arthur’s court that Sir Launcelot had a child by Elaine, the daughter of king Pelles, wherefore queen Guenever was wroth and gave many rebukes to Sir Launcelot, and called him false knight. And then Sir Launcelot told the queen all, and how he was made to meet her by enchantment, in likeness of the queen. So the queen held Sir Launcelot excused. And, as the book saith, king Arthur had been in France, and had made war upon the mighty king Claudas, and had won much of his lands; and when the king was come again he let cry a great feast, that all lords and ladies of all England should be there, but if it were such as were rebellious against him.

CHAP. VII.

_How dame Elaine, Galahad’s mother, came in great estate unto Camelot,
and how Sir Launcelot behaved him there._

And when dame Elaine, the daughter of king Pelles, heard of this feast, she went to her father, and required him that he would give her leave to ride to that feast. The king answered, I will well ye go thither; but in any wise, as ye love me and will have my blessing, that ye be well beseen in the richest wise; and look that ye spare not for no cost; ask, and ye shall have all that you needeth. Then, by the advice of dame Brisen her maiden, all thing was apparelled unto the purpose, and there was never no lady more richlier beseen. So she rode with twenty knights and ten ladies and gentlewomen to the number of an hundred horses. And when she came to Camelot, king Arthur and queen Guenever said, and all the knights, that dame Elaine was the fairest and the best beseen lady that ever was seen in that court.

And anon as king Arthur wist that she was come, he met her and saluted her, and so did the most part of all the knights of the Round Table, both Sir Tristram, Sir Bleoberis, and Sir Gawaine, and many more that I will not rehearse. But when Sir Launcelot saw her he was so ashamed, and that because he drew his sword on her, that he would not salute her nor speak to her, and yet Sir Launcelot thought she was the fairest woman that ever he saw in his life days. But when dame Elaine saw Sir Launcelot that would not speak to her, she was so heavy that she wend her heart would have to-brast. For wit ye well, out of measure she loved him. And then Elaine said unto her woman dame Brisen, The unkindness of Sir Launcelot slayeth me near. Ah peace, madam, said dame Brisen, I will undertake that he shall come to you, and ye would hold you still. That were me lever, said dame Elaine, than all the gold that is above the earth. Let me deal, said dame Brisen. So when Elaine was brought unto queen Guenever, either made other good cheer by countenance, but nothing with hearts. But all men and women spake of the beauty of dame Elaine, and of her great riches. Then the queen commanded that dame Elaine should sleep in a chamber nigh unto her chamber, and all under one roof. And so it was done as the queen had commanded. Then the queen sent for Sir Launcelot, and bid him come to her, or else, I am sure, said the queen, that ye will go to your lady, dame Elaine, by whom ye had Galahad. Ah, madam, said Sir Launcelot, never say ye so; for that was against my will. Then, said the queen, look that ye come to me when I send for you. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, I shall not fail you, but I shall be ready at your commandment. This bargain was soon done and made between them, but dame Brisen knew it by her crafts, and told it to her lady dame Elaine. Alas, said she, how shall I do. Let me deal, said dame Brisen, for I shall bring him by the hand, even to you, and he shall ween that I am queen Guenever’s messager. Now well is me, said dame Elaine, for all the world I love not so much as I do Sir Launcelot.

CHAP. VIII.

_How dame Brisen by enchantment brought Sir Launcelot to dame Elaine,
and how queen Guenever rebuked him._

So then dame Brisen came to Sir Launcelot and said, Sir Launcelot du Lake, my lady queen Guenever awaiteth upon you. O my fair lady, said Sir Launcelot, I am ready to go with you where ye will have me. So Sir Launcelot took his sword in his hand, and then dame Brisen took him by the finger and led him unto her lady, dame Elaine; and then she departed and left them together. Wit ye well the lady was glad, and so was Sir Launcelot, for he wend that it was the queen. Then queen Guenever sent one of her women unto Sir Launcelot; and when she came there, she found Sir Launcelot was away: so she came to the queen and told her all. Alas, said the queen, where is that false knight become? Then the queen was nigh out of her wit, and then she writhed and weltered as a mad woman; and at the last the queen met with Sir Launcelot, and thus she said, False traitor knight that thou art, look thou never abide in my court, and not so hardy, thou false traitor knight that thou art, that ever thou come in my sight. Alas, said Sir Launcelot: and therewith he took such an heartly sorrow at her words that he fell down to the floor in a swoon. And therewithal queen Guenever departed. And when Sir Launcelot awoke of his swoon he lept out at a bay window into a garden, and there with thorns he was all to-scratched in his visage and his body, and so he ran forth he wist not whither, and was wild wood as ever was man; and so he ran two year, and never man might have grace to know him.

CHAP. IX.

_How dame Elaine was commanded by queen Guenever to avoid the court,
and how Sir Launcelot became mad._

Now turn we unto queen Guenever and to the fair lady Elaine. When dame Elaine heard the queen so to rebuke Sir Launcelot, and also she saw how he swooned, and how he lept out at a bay window, then she said unto queen Guenever, Madam, ye are greatly to blame for Sir Launcelot, for now ye have lost him; for I saw and heard by his countenance that he is mad for ever. Alas, madam, ye do great sin, and to yourself great dishonour, for ye have a lord of your own, and therefore it is your part to love him; for there is no queen in this world hath such another king as ye have. And if ye were not, I might have the love of my lord Sir Launcelot; and cause I have to love him, for I am his, and by him I have borne a fair son, and his name is Galahad, and he shall be in his time the best knight of the world. Dame Elaine, said the queen, I charge you and command you to avoid my court; and for the love ye owe unto Sir Launcelot discover not his counsel, for and ye do it will be his death. As for that, said dame Elaine, I dare undertake he is marred for ever, and that have ye made, for ye nor I are like to rejoice him; for he made the most piteous groans when he lept out at yonder bay window that ever I heard man make. Alas! said fair Elaine, and alas! said the queen Guenever, for now I wot well we have lost him for ever. So on the morn dame Elaine took her leave to depart, and she would no longer abide. Then king Arthur brought her on her way with more than an hundred knights through a forest. And by the way she told Sir Bors de Ganis all how it betid, and how Sir Launcelot lept out at a bay window araged out of his wit. Alas, said Sir Bors, where is my lord Sir Launcelot become? Sir, said Elaine, I wot never. Alas, said Sir Bors, betwixt you both ye have destroyed that good knight. As for me, said dame Elaine, I said never nor did never thing that should in any wise displease him; but with the rebuke that queen Guenever gave him I saw him swoon to the earth; and when he awoke he took his sword in his hand, and lept out at a window, with the grisliest groan that ever I heard man make. Now farewell, dame Elaine, said Sir Bors, and hold my lord Arthur with a tale as long as ye can, for I will turn again unto queen Guenever and give her a heat: and I require you as ever ye will have my service, make good watch, and espy if ever ye may see my lord Sir Launcelot. Truly, said fair Elaine, I shall do all that I may do, for as fain would I know and wit where he is become as you or any of his kin, or queen Guenever, and cause great enough have I thereto as well as any other. And wit ye well, said fair Elaine to Sir Bors, I would lose my life for him rather than he should be hurt: but alas, I cast me never for to see him; and the chief causer of this is dame Guenever. Madam, said dame Brisen, the which had made the enchantment before betwixt Sir Launcelot and her, I pray you heartily let Sir Bors depart and hie him with all his might, as fast as he may, to seek Sir Launcelot. For I warn you he is clean out of his mind, and yet he shall be well holpen, and but by miracle. Then wept dame Elaine, and so did Sir Bors de Ganis, and so they departed; and Sir Bors rode straight unto queen Guenever, and when she saw Sir Bors she wept as she were wood. Fie on your weeping, said Sir Bors, for ye weep never but when there is no boot. Alas, said Sir Bors, that ever Sir Launcelot’s kin saw you. For now have ye lost the best knight of our blood, and he that was all our leader and our succour. And I dare say and make it good, that all kings, christian nor heathen, may not find such a knight, for to speak of his nobleness and courtesy with his beauty and his gentleness. Alas, said Sir Bors, what shall we do that be of his blood? Alas, said Ector de Maris. Alas, said Lionel.

CHAP. X.

_What sorrow queen Guenever made for Sir Launcelot, and how he was
sought by knights of his kin._

And when the queen heard them say so, she fell to the earth in a dead swoon. And then Sir Bors took her up, and roused her, and when she was awaked she kneeled afore the three knights, and held up both her hands, and besought them to seek him, and spare not for no goods but that he be founden, for I wot he is out of his mind. And Sir Bors, Sir Ector, and Sir Lionel departed from the queen, for they might not abide no longer for sorrow. And then the queen sent them treasure enough for their expenses, and so they took their horses and their armour, and departed. And then they rode from country to country, in forests and in wildernesses and in wastes, and ever they laid watch as well both at forests and at all manner of men as they rode, to hearken and enquire after him, as he that was a naked man in his shirt, with a sword in his hand. And thus they rode nigh a quarter of a year, endlong and overthwart, in many places, forests and wildernesses, and ofttimes were evil lodged for his sake, and yet for all their labour and seeking could they never hear word of him. And wit you well these three knights were passing sorry. Then at the last Sir Bors and his fellows met with a knight, that hight Sir Melion de Tartare. Now, fair knight, said Sir Bors, whither be ye away? for they knew either other aforetime. Sir, said Sir Melion, I am in the way toward the court of king Arthur. Then we pray you, said Sir Bors, that ye will tell my lord Arthur, and my lady queen Guenever, and all the fellowship of the Round Table, that we cannot in no wise hear tell where Sir Launcelot is become. Then Sir Melion departed from them, and said that he would tell the king and the queen and all the fellowship of the Round Table, as they had desired him. So when Sir Melion came to the court of king Arthur, he told the king and the queen and all the fellowship of the Round Table, what Sir Bors had said of Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramor le Desirous, Sir Aglovale, and Sir Percivale de Galis, took upon them by the great desire of king Arthur, and in especial by the queen, to seek throughout all England, Wales, and Scotland, to find Sir Launcelot. And with them rode eighteen knights more to bear them fellowship. And wit ye well they lacked no manner of spending: and so were they three and twenty knights.

Now turn we to Sir Launcelot, and speak we of his care and woe and what pain he there endured, for cold, hunger, and thirst he had plenty. And thus as these noble knights rode together, they by one assent departed, and then they rode by two, by three, and by four, and by five; and ever they assigned where they should meet. And so Sir Aglovale and Sir Percivale rode together unto their mother that was a queen in those days. And when she saw her two sons, for joy she wept tenderly. And then she said, Ah, my dear sons, when your father was slain he left me four sons, of the which now be twain slain; and for the death of my noble son Sir Lamorak shall my heart never be glad. And then she kneeled down upon her knees tofore Aglovale and Sir Percivale, and besought them to abide at home with her. Ah, sweet mother, said Sir Percivale, we may not; for we be come of king’s blood of both parties, and therefore, mother, it is our kind to haunt arms and noble deeds. Alas, my sweet sons, then she said, for your sakes I shall lose my liking and joy, and then wind and weather I may not endure, what for the death of your father king Pellinore, that was shamefully slain by the hands of Sir Gawaine and his brother Sir Gaheris, and they slew him not manly, but by treason. Ah, my dear sons, this is a piteous complaint for me of your father’s death, considering also the death of Sir Lamorak, that of knighthood had but few fellows. Now, my dear sons, have this in your mind. Then there was but weeping and sobbing in the court when they should depart, and she fell in swooning in midst of the court.

CHAP. XI.

_How a servant of Sir Aglovale’s was slain, and what vengeance Sir
Aglovale and Sir Percivale did therefore._

And when she was awaked she sent a squire after them with spending enough. And so when the squire had overtaken them, they would not suffer him to ride with them, but sent him home again to comfort their mother, praying her meekly of her blessing. And so this squire was benighted, and by misfortune he happened to come unto a castle where dwelled a baron. And so when the squire was come into the castle, the lord asked him from whence he came, and whom he served? My lord, said the squire, I serve a good knight that is called Sir Aglovale. The squire said it to good intent, weening unto him to have been more forborne for Sir Aglovale’s sake than if he had said he had served the queen, Aglovale’s mother. Well, my fellow, said the lord of that castle, for Sir Aglovale’s sake thou shalt have evil lodging, for Aglovale slew my brother, and therefore thou shalt die on part of payment. And then that lord commanded his men to have him away, and so pulled him out of the castle, and there they slew him without mercy. Right so on the morn came Sir Aglovale and Sir Percivale riding by a church-yard, where men and women were busy, and beheld the dead squire, and they thought to bury him. What is there, said Sir Aglovale, that ye behold so fast? A good man start forth and said, Fair knight, here lieth a squire slain shamefully this night. How was he slain, fair fellow? said Sir Aglovale. My fair sir, said the man, the lord of this castle lodged this squire this night, and because he said he was servant unto a good knight that is with king Arthur, his name is Sir Aglovale, therefore the lord commanded to slay him, and for this cause is he slain. Gramercy, said Sir Aglovale, and ye shall see his death revenged lightly, for I am that same knight for whom this squire was slain. Then Sir Aglovale called unto him Sir Percivale, and bad him alight lightly, and so they alight both, and betook their horses to their men, and so they went on foot into the castle. And all so soon as they were within the castle gate Sir Aglovale bad the porter, Go thou unto thy lord and tell him that I am Sir Aglovale, for whom this squire was slain this night. Anon the porter told this to his lord, whose name was Goodewin: anon he armed him, and then he came into the court and said, Which of you is Sir Aglovale? Here I am, said Aglovale: for what cause slewest thou this night my mother’s squire? I slew him, said Sir Goodewin, because of thee; for thou slewest my brother Sir Gawdelin. As for thy brother, said Sir Aglovale, I avow it, I slew him, for he was a false knight and a betrayer of ladies and of good knights; and for the death of my squire thou shalt die. I defy thee, said Sir Goodewin. Then they lashed together as eagerly as it had been two lions: and Sir Percivale he fought with all the remnant that would fight. And within a while Sir Percivale had slain all that would withstand him; for Sir Percivale dealt so his strokes that were so rude that there durst no man abide him. And within a while Sir Aglovale had Sir Goodewin at the earth, and there he unlaced his helm and strake off his head. And then they departed and took their horses. And then they let carry the dead squire unto a priory, and there they interred him.

CHAP. XII.

_How Sir Percivale departed secretly from his brother, and how he
loosed a knight bound with a chain, and of other things._

And when this was done, they rode into many countries, ever enquiring after Sir Launcelot, but never they could hear of him. And at the last they came to a castle that hight Cardican, and there Sir Percivale and Sir Aglovale were lodged together, and privily about midnight Sir Percivale came to Aglovale’s squire, and said, Arise and make thee ready, for ye and I will ride away secretly. Sir, said the squire, I would full fain ride with you where ye would have me, but, and my lord your brother take me, he will slay me. As for that care thou not, for I shall be thy warrant. And so Sir Percivale rode till it was afternoon, and then he came upon a bridge of stone, and there he found a knight that was bounden with a chain fast about the waist unto a pillar of stone. O fair knight, said that bounden knight, I require thee loose me of my bonds. What knight are ye? said Sir Percivale, and for what cause are ye so bounden? Sir, I shall tell you, said that knight; I am a knight of the Table Round, and my name is Sir Persides, and thus by adventure I came this way, and here I lodged in this castle at the bridge foot, and therein dwelleth an uncourteous lady, and because she proffered me to be her paramour and I refused her, she set her men upon me suddenly or ever I might come to my weapon, and thus they bound me, and here I wot well I shall die, but if some man of worship break my bands. Be ye of good cheer, said Sir Percivale, and because ye are a knight of the Round Table as well as I, I trust to God to break your bands. And therewith Sir Percivale drew out his sword, and strake at the chain with such a might that he cut a-two the chain, and through Sir Persides’ hauberk, and hurt him a little. Truly, said Sir Persides, that was a mighty stroke as ever I felt one, for had not the chain been, ye had slain me. And therewithal Sir Persides saw a knight coming out of the castle all that ever he might flying. Beware Sir, said Sir Persides, yonder cometh a man that will have ado with you. Let him come, said Sir Percivale, and so he met with that knight in the midst of the bridge, and Sir Percivale gave him such a buffet that he smote him quite from his horse, and over a part of the bridge, that had not been a little vessel under the bridge that knight had been drowned. And then Sir Percivale took the knight’s horse, and made Sir Persides to mount upon him, and so they rode unto the castle, and bad the lady deliver Sir Persides’ servants, or else he would slay all that ever he found. And so for fear she delivered them all. Then was Sir Percivale ware of a lady that stood in that tower. Ah, madam, said Sir Percivale, what use and custom is that in a lady to destroy good knights but if they will be your paramour? forsooth this is a shameful custom of a lady. And if I had not a great matter in my hand, I should foredo your evil customs. And so Sir Persides brought Sir Percivale unto his own castle, and there he made him great cheer all that night. And on the morn, when Sir Percivale had heard mass and broken his fast, he bad Sir Persides, Ride unto king Arthur, and tell the king how that ye met with me, and tell my brother Sir Aglovale how I rescued you, and bid him seek not after me, for I am in the quest to seek Sir Launcelot du Lake. And though he seek me he shall not find me, and tell him I will never see him, nor the court, till I have found Sir Launcelot. Also tell Sir Kay the seneschal, and to Sir Mordred, that I trust to God to be of as great worthiness as either of them. For tell them I shall never forget their mocks and scorns that they did to me that day that I was made knight. And tell them I will never see that court till men speak more worship of me than ever men did of any of them both. And so Sir Persides departed from Sir Percivale, and then he rode unto king Arthur, and told there of Sir Percivale. And when Sir Aglovale heard him speak of his brother Sir Percivale, he said, He departed from me unkindly. Sir, said Sir Persides, on my life he shall prove a noble knight as any now is living. And when he saw Sir Kay and Sir Mordred, Sir Persides said thus: My fair lords both, Sir Percivale greeteth you well both, and he sent you word by me that he trusteth to God or ever he come to the court again to be of as great nobleness as ever were ye both, and more men to speak of his nobleness than ever they did you. It may well be, said Sir Kay and Sir Mordred, but at that time when he was made knight he was full unlikely to prove a good knight. As for that, said king Arthur, he must needs prove a good knight, for his father and his brethren were noble knights.

CHAP. XIII.

_How Sir Percivale met with Sir Ector, and how they fought long, and
each had almost slain other._

And now will we turn unto Sir Percivale that rode long, and in a forest he met a knight with a broken shield and a broken helm, and as soon as either saw other readily, they made them ready to just, and so hurtled together with all the might of their horses, and met together so hard that Sir Percivale was smitten to the earth. And then Sir Percivale arose lightly and cast his shield on his shoulder and drew his sword, and bad the other knight alight, and do we battle to the uttermost. Will ye more? said that knight, and therewith he alight and put his horse from him, and then they came together an easy pace, and there they lashed together with noble swords, and sometime they stroke, and sometime they foined, and either gave other many great wounds. Thus they fought near half a day, and never rested but right little, and there was none of them both that had less wounds than fifteen, and they bled so much that it was marvel they stood on their feet. But this knight that fought with Sir Percivale was a proved knight and a wise fighting knight, and Sir Percivale was young and strong, not knowing in fighting as the other was. Then Sir Percivale spake first, and said, Sir knight, hold thy hand a while still, for we have foughten for a simple matter and quarrel over long, and therefore I require thee tell me thy name, for I was never or this time matched. Truly, said that knight, and never or this time was there never knight that wounded me so sore as thou hast done, and yet have I foughten in many battles; and now shalt thou wit that I am a knight of the Table Round, and my name is Sir Ector de Maris, brother unto the good knight Sir Launcelot du Lake. Alas, said Sir Percivale, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis, that hath made my quest to seek Sir Launcelot; now I am siker that I shall never finish my quest, for ye have slain me with your hands. It is not so, said Sir Ector, for I am slain by your hands, and may not live; therefore I require you, said Sir Ector unto Sir Percivale, ride ye hereby to a priory, and bring me a priest that I may receive my Saviour, for I may not live. And when ye come to the court of king Arthur, tell not my brother Sir Launcelot how that ye slew me, for then he would be your mortal enemy; but ye may say that I was slain in my quest as I sought him. Alas, said Sir Percivale, ye say that thing that never will be, for I am so faint for bleeding that I may scarcely stand; how should I then take my horse?

CHAP. XIV.

_How by miracle they were both made whole, by the coming of the holy
vessel of Sangreal._

Then they made both great dole out of measure. This will not avail, said Percivale. And then he kneeled down and made his prayer devoutly unto Almighty Jesu; for he was one of the best knights of the world that at that time was, in whom the very faith stood most in. Right so there came by, the holy vessel of the Sancgreal with all manner of sweetness and savour, but they could not readily see who that bare that vessel, but Sir Percivale had a glimmering of the vessel, and of the maiden that bare it, for he was a perfect clean maiden. And forthwithal they both were as whole of hide and limb as ever they were in their life days; then they gave thankings to God with great mildness. O Jesu! said Sir Percivale, what may this mean that we be thus healed, and right now we were at the point of dying? I wot full well, said Sir Ector, what it is. It is an holy vessel that is borne by a maiden, and therein is a part of the holy blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, blessed might He be! but it may not be seen, said Sir Ector, but if it be by a perfect man. Truly, said Sir Percivale, I saw a damsel, as me thought, all in white, with a vessel in both her hands, and forthwithal I was whole. So then they took their horses and their harness, and amended their harness as well as they might that was broken, and so they mounted upon their horses and rode talking together. And there Sir Ector de Maris told Sir Percivale how he had sought his brother Sir Launcelot long, and never could hear witting of him:—In many strange adventures have I been in this quest. And so either told other of their adventures.

Here endeth the enleuenth booke. And here foloweth the twelfth book.

The Twelfth Book.

CHAP. I.

_How Sir Launcelot in his madness took a sword and fought with a
knight, and after lept into a bed._

And now leave we of a while of Sir Ector and of Sir Percivale, and speak we of Sir Launcelot, that suffered and endured many sharp showers, that ever ran wild wood from place to place, and lived by fruit and such as he might get, and drank water two year, and other clothing had he but little but his shirt and his breeches. Thus as Sir Launcelot wandered here and there, he came in a fair meadow where he found a pavilion, and there by upon a tree there hung a white shield, and two swords hung thereby, and two spears leaned there by a tree. And when Sir Launcelot saw the swords, anon he lept to the one sword, and took it in his hand and drew it out. And then he lashed at the shield that all the meadow rang of the dints, that he gave such a noise as ten knights had foughten together. Then came forth a dwarf and lept unto Sir Launcelot, and would have had the sword out of his hand, and then Sir Launcelot took him by the both shoulders, and threw him to the ground upon his neck, that he had almost broken his neck, and therewithal the dwarf cried, Help. Then came forth a likely knight, and well apparelled in scarlet furred with meniver. And anon as he saw Sir Launcelot, he deemed that he should be out of his wit: and then he said with fair speech, Good man, lay down that sword, for, as me seemeth, thou hast more need of sleep, and of warm clothes, than to wield that sword. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, come not too nigh; for, and thou do, wit thou well I will slay thee. And when the knight of the pavilion saw that, he start backward within the pavilion. And then the dwarf armed him lightly, and so the knight thought by force and might to take the sword from Sir Launcelot, and so he came stepping out, and when Sir Launcelot saw him come so all armed with his sword in his hand, then Sir Launcelot flew to him with such a might, and hit him upon the helm such a buffet that the stroke troubled his brains, and therewith the sword brake in three. And the knight fell to the earth as he had been dead, the blood blasting out of his mouth, the nose, and the ears. And then Sir Launcelot ran into the pavilion, and rushed even into the warm bed: and there was a lady in that bed, and she gat her smock, and ran out of the pavilion. And when she saw her lord lie on the ground like to be dead, then she cried and wept as she had been mad. Then with her noise the knight awaked out of his swoon, and looked up weakly with his eyes, and then he asked her where was that mad man that had given him such a buffet? for such a buffet had I never of man’s hand. Sir, said the dwarf, it is not worship to hurt him, for he is a man out of his wit, and doubt ye not he hath been a man of great worship, and for some heartly sorrow that he hath taken he is fallen mad: and me seemeth, said the dwarf, he resembleth much unto Sir Launcelot; for him I saw at the great tournament beside Lonazep. Jesu defend, said that knight, that ever that noble knight Sir Launcelot should be in such a plight. But whatsoever he be, said that knight, harm will I none do him. And this knight’s name was Bliant. Then he said unto the dwarf. Go thou fast on horseback unto my brother Sir Selivant, that is at the Castle Blank, and tell him of mine adventure, and bid him bring with him an horse-litter, and then will we bear this knight unto my castle.

CHAP. II.

_How Sir Launcelot was carried in a horse-litter, and how Sir Launcelot
rescued Sir Bliant his host._

So the dwarf rode fast, and he came again and brought Sir Selivant with him, and six men with an horse-litter. And so they took up the feather-bed with Sir Launcelot, and so carried all away with them unto the Castle Blank, and he never awaked till he was within the castle. And then they bound his hands and his feet, and gave him good meats and good drinks, and brought him again to his strength and his fairness, but in his wit they could not bring him again, nor to know himself. Thus was Sir Launcelot there more than a year and an half, honestly arrayed, and fair fared withal. Then upon a day this lord of that castle, Sir Bliant, took his arms on horseback with a spear to seek adventures. And as he rode in a forest there met him two knights adventurous. The one was Breuse Sance Pité, and his brother, Sir Bertelot, and these two ran both at once upon Sir Bliant, and brake their spears upon his body. And then they drew out swords, and made great battle, and fought long together. But at the last Sir Bliant was sore wounded, and felt himself faint, and then he fled on horseback toward his castle. And they came hurling under the castle where as Sir Launcelot lay in a window, and saw how two knights laid upon Sir Bliant with their swords. And when Sir Launcelot saw that, yet as wood as he was, he was sorry for his lord Sir Bliant. And then Sir Launcelot brake his chains from his legs and off his arms, and in the breaking he hurt his hands sore: and so Sir Launcelot ran out at a postern, and there he met with the two knights that chased Sir Bliant, and there he pulled down Sir Bertelot with his bare hands from his horse, and therewithal he wrothe his sword out of his hands, and so he lept unto Sir Breuse, and gave him such a buffet upon the head that he tumbled backward over his horse croup. And when Sir Bertelot saw there his brother have such a fall, he gat a spear in his hand, and would have run Sir Launcelot through. That saw Sir Bliant, and strake off the hand of Sir Bertelot: and then Sir Breuse and Sir Bertelot gat their horses and fled away. When Sir Selivant came, and saw what Sir Launcelot had done for his brother, then he thanked God, and so did his brother, that ever they did him any good. But when Sir Bliant saw that Sir Launcelot was hurt with the breaking of his irons, then was he heavy that ever he bound him. Bind him no more, said Sir Selivant, for he is happy and gracious. Then they made great joy of Sir Launcelot, and they bound him no more. And so he abode there an half year and more. And on the morn early, Sir Launcelot was ware where came a great boar with many hounds nigh him. But the boar was so big there might no hounds tear him, and the hunters came after blowing their horns, both on horseback and on foot: and then Sir Launcelot was ware where one alight, and tied his horse to a tree, and leaned his spear against the tree.

CHAP. III.

_How Sir Launcelot fought against a boar and slew him, and how he was
hurt, and brought unto an hermitage._

So came Sir Launcelot, and found the horse bounden till a tree, and a spear leaning against a tree, and a sword tied to the saddle bow. And then Sir Launcelot lept into the saddle, and gat that spear in his hand, and then he rode after the boar. And then Sir Launcelot was ware where the boar set his back to a tree, fast by an hermitage. Then Sir Launcelot ran at the boar with his spear. And therewith the boar turned him nimbly, and rove out the lungs and the heart of the horse, so that Launcelot fell to the earth, and or ever Sir Launcelot might get from the horse, the boar rove him on the brawn of the thigh, up to the hough bone. And then Sir Launcelot was wroth, and up he gat upon his feet, and drew his sword, and he smote off the boar’s head at one stroke. And therewithal came out the hermit, and saw him have such a wound: then the hermit came to Sir Launcelot and bemoaned him, and would have had him home unto his hermitage. But when Sir Launcelot heard him speak, he was so wroth with his wound that he ran upon the hermit to have slain him, and the hermit ran away, and when Sir Launcelot might not overget him he threw his sword after him, for Sir Launcelot might go no farther for bleeding. Then the hermit turned again, and asked Sir Launcelot how he was hurt. Fellow, said Sir Launcelot, this boar hath bitten me sore. Then come with me, said the hermit, and I shall heal you. Go thy way, said Sir Launcelot, and deal not with me. Then the hermit ran his way, and there he met with a good knight with many men. Sir, said the hermit, here is fast by my place the goodliest man that ever I saw, and he is sore wounded with a boar, and yet he hath slain the boar. But well I wot, said the hermit, and he be not holpen, that goodly man shall die of that wound, and that were great pity. Then that knight, at the desire of the hermit, gat a cart, and in that cart that knight put the boar and Sir Launcelot, for Sir Launcelot was so feeble that they might right easily deal with him. And so Sir Launcelot was brought unto the hermitage, and there the hermit healed him of his wound. But the hermit might not find Sir Launcelot’s sustenance, and so he impaired and waxed feeble, both of his body and of his wit, for the default of his sustenance: he waxed more wooder than he was aforehand. And then, upon a day. Sir Launcelot ran his way into the forest, and by adventure he came to the city of Corbin where dame Elaine was, that bare Galahad, Sir Launcelot’s son. And so when he was entered into the town, he ran through the town to the castle, and then all the young men of that city ran after Sir Launcelot, and there they threw turves at him, and gave him many sad strokes. And ever as Sir Launcelot might overreach any of them he threw them, so that they would never come in his hands no more, for of some he brake the legs and arms, and so fled into the castle, and then came out knights and squires and rescued Sir Launcelot. And when they beheld him, and looked upon his person, they thought they saw never so goodly a man. And when they saw so many wounds upon him, all they deemed that he had been a man of worship. And then they ordained him clothes to his body, and straw underneath him, and a little house. And then every day they would throw him meat, and set him drink, but there was but few would bring meat to his hands.

CHAP. IV.

_How Sir Launcelot was known by dame Elaine, and was borne into a
chamber, and after healed by the Sangreal._