CHAPTER 8 And therewithal Sir Lancelot kneeled down upon his knees, and threw away his shield and his sword from him. When Sir Percival saw him do so, he marveled what he meant. And then thus he said, Sir Knight, what some ever thou be, I require thee upon the high order of knighthood, tell me thy true name. Then he said, So God help me, my name is Sir Lancelot Dulake, King Ban's son of Benoy. Alas, said Sir Percival, what have I done? I was sent by the Queen for to seek you, and so I have sought you nigh this two year. When yonder is Sir Ector de Meris, your brother abideth me on the other side of the yonder water. Now for God's sake, said Sir Percival, forgive me mine offences that I have here done. It is soon forgiven, said Sir Lancelot. Then Sir Percival sent for Sir Ector de Meris, and when Sir Lancelot had a sight of him, he ran unto him and took him in his arms, and then Sir Ector kneeled down and either wept upon the other, that all had pity to behold them. Then came Dame Elaine, and she there made them great cheer as might lie in her power. And there she told Sir Ector and Sir Percival how and in what manner Sir Lancelot came into that country, and how he was healed. And there it was known how long Sir Lancelot was with Sir Blayant and with Sir Célevant, and how he first met with them, and how he departed from them because of a bore, and how the hermit healed Sir Lancelot of his great wound, and how that he came to Corbin. Chapter 9 Now leave we, Sir Lancelot, in the joyous aisle with the Lady Dame Elaine, and Sir Percival and Sir Ector playing with them, and turn we to Sir Bors de Gannis and Sir Lionel, that had sought Sir Lancelot nigh by the space of two years, and never could they hear of him. And as they thus rode, by adventure they came to the house of Brandegor, and there Sir Bors was well known, for he had gotten a child upon the king's daughter fifteen year to four, and his name was Helen Leblanc. And when Sir Bors saw that child, it liked him passing well, and so those knights had good cheer of the king Brandegor. And on the mourn, Sir Bors came before King Brandegor, and said, Here is my son Helen Leblanc, that as it is said he is my son, and sith it is so, I will that ye wit that I will have him with me unto the court of King Arthur. Sir, said the king, ye may well take him with you, but he is over tender of age. As for that, said Sir Bors, I will have him with me and bring him to the house of most worship of the world. So when Sir Bors should depart there was made great sorrow for the parting of Helen Leblanc, and great weeping was there made. But Sir Bors and Sir Lyanna departed, and within a while they came to Camelot, where was King Arthur. And when King Arthur understood that Helen Leblanc was Sir Bors' son and nephew unto King Brandegor, then King Arthur let him make night of the round table, and so he proved a good night and an adventurous. Now will be turned to our matter of Sir Lancelot. But if he fell upon a day Sir Ector and Sir Percival came to Sir Lancelot and asked him what he would do, and whether he would go with them unto King Arthur or not. Nay, said Sir Lancelot, that may not be by no mean, for I was so entreated at the court that I cast me never to come there more. Sir, said Sir Ector, I am your brother, and ye are the man in the world that I love most. And if I understood that it were your disworship, ye may understand I would never counsel you there too. But King Arthur and all his knights, and in the special Queen Guinevere, made such dole and sorrow that it was marvel to hear and see. And ye must remember the great worship and renown that ye be of, how that ye have been more spoken of than any other night that is now living, and there is none that beareth the name now but ye and Sir Tristram. Therefore, brothers, said Sir Ector, make you ready to ride to the court with us, and I dare say there was never night better welcome to the court than ye. And I want well and can make it good, said Sir Ector. You hath cost my lady, the Queen, twenty thousand pound the seeking of you. Well, brothers, said Sir Lancelot, I will do after your council and ride with you. So then they took their horses and made them ready, and took their leave at King Pellis and at Dame Elaine. And when Sir Lancelot should depart Dame Elaine made great sorrow. My Lord, Sir Lancelot, said Dame Elaine, at this same feast of Pentecost shall your son and mine, Galahad, be made night, for he is fully now fifteen winter old. Do as you list, said Sir Lancelot. God give him grace to prove a good night. As for that, said Dame Elaine, I doubt not he shall prove the best man of his kin except one. Then shall he be a man good enough, said Sir Lancelot. CHAPTER X Then they departed, and within five days journey they came to Camelot, that is called in English Winchester. And when Sir Lancelot was come among them, the King and all the knights made great joy of him. And there Sir Percival de Galas and Sir Ector de Meiris began and told the whole adventures. That Sir Lancelot had been out of his mind the time of his absence, and how he called himself the Chavalier of Malfect, the night that had trespassed. And in three days Sir Lancelot smoked down five hundred knights. And ever as Sir Ector and Sir Percival told these tales of Sir Lancelot, Queen Guinevere wept as she should have died. Then the Queen made great cheer. OJSU, said King Arthur, I marvel for what caused you. Sir Lancelot went out of your mind. I in many others' deem it was for the love of Fair Lane, the daughter of King Pellis, by whom ye are noise that ye have gotten a child, and his name is Galahad, and men say he shall do marvels. My Lord, said Sir Lancelot, if I did any folly I have that I sought, and there with all the King spake no more. But all Sir Lancelot's King knew for whom he went out of his mind. And then there were great feasts made, and great joy, and many great lords and ladies, when they heard that Sir Lancelot was come to the court again, they made great joy. CHAPTER XI. Now will we leave off this matter, and speak we of Sir Tristram and of Sir Palomitus, that was the Saracen unchristened. When Sir Tristram was come home unto joyous guard from his adventures, all this while that Sir Lancelot was thus missed, two year and more, Sir Tristram bear the renown through all the realm of Lagras, and many strange adventures befell him, and full well and manly and worshipfully he brought them to an end. So when he was come home, Labille Azud told him of the great feasts that should be at Pentecost next following, and there she told him how Sir Lancelot had been missed two year, and all that while he had been out of his mind, and how he was hoping by the holy vessel the Sangreel. Alas, said Sir Tristram, that caused some debate betwixt him and Queen Guinevere. Sir, said Dame Azud, I know it all, for Queen Guinevere sent me a letter in which she wrote me all how it was, for to require you to seek him. And now, blessed be God, said Labille Azud, he is whole and sound, and come again to the court. Thereof am I glad, said Sir Tristram, and now shall ye and I make us ready, for both ye and I will be at the feast. Sir, said Azud, and it please you I will not be there, for through me ye be marked of many good nights, and that caused you to have much more labour for my sake than needed you. Then will I not be there, said Sir Tristram, but if ye be there. God defends, said Labille Azud, for then shall I be spoken of shame among all queens and ladies of estate, for ye that are called one of the noblest nights of the world, and ye be a night of the round table. How may ye be missed at that feast? What shall be said among all nights? See how Sir Tristram hunteth, and hawketh, and cow earth within a castle with his lady, and forsakeeth your worship. Alas, shall some say, it is pity that ever he was made night, for that ever he should have the love of a lady. Also, what shall queens and ladies say of me? It is pity that I have my life, that I will hold so noble a night as ye are from his worship. So God me help, said Sir Tristram, unto Labille Azud. It is passing well said of you, and nobly counseled, and now I will understand that ye love me, and like as ye have counseled me, I will do a part thereafter. But there shall no man nor child ride with me but myself. And so will I ride on Tuesday next coming, and no more harness of war but my spear and my sword. CHAPTER XII. And so when the day came, Sir Tristram took his leave at Labille Azud, and she sent with him four nights, and within half a mile he sent them again, and with a mile after Sir Tristram saw a fore him where Sir Palomitas had stricken down a night, and almost wounded him to the death. Then Sir Tristram repented him that he was not armed, and then he hoped still. But that Sir Palomitas knew Sir Tristram and cried on high, Sir Tristram, now be we met, for o'er we depart we will redress our old sores. As for that, said Sir Tristram, there was yet never Christian man might make his boast that ever I fled from him, and wit ye well, Sir Palomitas, thou that art a Saracen shall never make thy boast, that Sir Tristram deline us shelfily from thee. And therewith Sir Tristram made his horse to run, and with all his might he came straight upon Sir Palomitas, and brassed his spear upon him and hundred pieces. And for with all Sir Tristram drew his sword, and then he turned his horse, and struck at Sir Palomitas six great strokes upon his helm. And then Sir Palomitas stood still, and beheld Sir Tristram, and marveled of his wood-ness, and of his folly. And then Sir Palomitas said to himself, and Sir Tristram were armed, it were hard to cease him of this battle, and if I turn again and slay him I am ashamed where some ever that I go. Then Sir Tristram spake and said, Thou coward knight, what castest thou to do? Why wilt thou not do battle with me? For have thou no doubt I shall endure all thy malice? Ah, Sir Tristram said to Palomitas, For well thou waddest I may not fight with thee for shame, for thou art here naked and I am armed. And if I slay thee, dishonor shall be mine, and well thou waddest, said Sir Palomitas to Sir Tristram, I know thy strength and thy hardiness to endure against a good night. What is truth, said Sir Tristram, I understand thy valiantness well. You say well, said Sir Palomitas, now I require you, tell me a question that I shall say to you. Tell me what it is, said Sir Tristram, and I shall answer you the truth as God may help. I put case, said Sir Palomitas, that you were armed at all rights as well as I am, and I naked as ye be. What would you do to me now by your true knighthood? Ah, said Sir Tristram, now I understand thee well, Sir Palomitas, for now must I say mine own judgment. And as God me bless, that I shall say shall not be said for no fear that I have of thee. But this is all with Sir Palomitas, as at this time thou shouldest depart from me, for I would not have a do with thee. No more will I, said Sir Palomitas, and therefore ride forth on thy way. As for that I may choose, said Sir Tristram, either to ride or to abide. But Sir Palomitas, said Sir Tristram, I marvel of one thing, that thou that art so good a knight, that thou will not be christened, and thy brother, Sir Saphir, hath been christened many a day. CHAPTER XIII As for that, said Sir Palomitas, I may not yet be christened for one avow that I have made many a year ago. How be it in my heart I believe in Jesus Christ and his mild mother Mary, but I have but one battle to do, and when that is done I will be baptized with a good will. By my head, said Tristram, as for one battle thou shalt not seek it no longer. For God defends, said Sir Tristram, that through my default thou shalt longer live thus a Saracen. For yonder is a night that ye, Sir Palomitas, have hurt and smitten down. Now help me that I were armed in his armor, and I shall soon fulfill line of vows. As ye will, said Palomitas, so it shall be. So they rode both unto that night that sat upon a bank, and then Sir Tristram saluted him, and he weakly saluted him again. Sir Knight, said Sir Tristram, I require you tell me your right name. Sir, he said, my name is Sir Galeron of Goway, and Knight of the Table-Round. So God me help, said Sir Tristram, I am right heavy of your hurts, but this is all. I must pray you to lend me all your whole armor, for you see I am unarmed, and I must do battle with this night. Sir, said the hurt knight, ye shall have it with a good will, but ye must beware, for I warn you that night is white. Sir, said Galeron, I pray you tell me your name, and what is the knight's name that hath beaten me? Sir, as for my name it is Sir Tristram Delinus, and as for the knight's name that hath hurt you is Sir Palomitas, brother to the good knight Sir Saphir, and yet is Sir Palomitas uncristened. Alas, said Sir Galeron, that is pity that so good a knight and so noble a man of arms should be uncristened. So God me help, said Sir Tristram, either he shall slay me or I him, but that he shall be cristened or ever we depart in thunder. My Lord Sir Tristram, said Sir Galeron, you were now in worship as well known through many realms, and God save you this day from sin, ship, and shame. Then Sir Tristram unarmed Galeron, the witch was a noble knight and had done many deeds of arms, and he was a large knight of flesh and bone, and when he was unarmed he stood upon his feet, for he was bruised in the back with a spear. Yet so as Sir Galeron might he armed Sir Tristram, and then Sir Tristram mounted upon his own horse, and in his hand he got Sir Galeron spear. And there with all Sir Palamitas was ready, and so they came hurtling together and either smote other in midst of their shields, and there with all Sir Palamitas's spear break and Sir Tristram smote down the horse, and Sir Palamitas as soon as he might avoided his horse and dressed his shield and pulled out his sword. That saw Sir Tristram, and there with all he alighted and tied his horse to a tree. CHAPTER XIV And then they came together as two wild boars, lashing together, tracing and traversing as noble men that oft had been well proved in battle. But ever Sir Palamitas dreaded the might of Sir Tristram, and therefore he suffered him to breathe him. Thus they fought more than two hours, but often Sir Tristram smote such strokes at Sir Palamitas that he made him to kneel, and Sir Palamitas break and cut away many pieces of Sir Tristram's shield, and then Sir Palamitas wounded Sir Tristram, for he was a well-fighting man. Then Sir Tristram was wood wroth out of measure and rushed upon Sir Palamitas with such a might that Sir Palamitas fell groveling to the earth.  And then Sir Tristram wounded Palamitas sore through the shoulder, and even Sir Tristram fought still and like hard, and Sir Palamitas failed not but gave him many sad strokes. And at last Sir Tristram doubled his strokes, and by fortune Sir Tristram smote Sir Palamitas's sword out of his hand, and if Sir Palamitas had stooped for his sword he had been slain. Then Palamitas stood still and beheld his sword with a sorrowful heart. How now, said Sir Tristram unto Palamitas, now have I the yet advantage as thou hadst me this day, but it shall never be said in no court, nor among good knights that Sir Tristram shall slay any knight that is weaponless. And therefore take thou thy sword, and let us make an end of this battle. As for to do this battle, said Palamitas, I dare right well end it, but I have no great lust to fight no more. And for this cause, said Palamitas, my offense to you is not so great, but that we may be friends. All that I have offended is and was for the love of Label Azud, and as for her I dare say she is peerless above all other ladies, and also I preferred her never to know dishonour, and by her I have gotten the most part of my worship. And Sithin I offended never as to her own person, and as for the offense that I have done it was against your own person, and for that offense ye have given me this day many sad strokes, and some have I given you again, and now I dare say I felt never man of your might, nor so well-breathed. But if it were Sir Lancelot du Lake, wherefore I require you my Lord, forgive me all that I have offended unto you, and this same day have me to the next church, and first let me be clean confessed, and after see you now that I be truly baptized. And then will we all ride together unto the court of Arthur, that we be there at the high feast? Now take your horse, said Sir Tristram, and as ye say so it shall be, and all thine evil will God forgive at you, and I do. And here within this mile is the suffragan of Carlisle that shall give you the sacrament of baptism. Then they took their horses and Sir Galeron rode with them, and when they came to the suffragan Sir Tristram told him their desire. Then the suffragan let fill a great vessel with water, and when he had hallowed it he then confessed clean Sir Palomitas, and Sir Tristram and Sir Galeron were his godfathers. And then soon after they departed riding toward Camelot, where King Arthur and Queen Guinevere was, and for the most part all the knights of the round table, and so the king and all the court were glad that Sir Palomitas was christened. And at the same feast in King Galahad and sat in the siege perilous, and so therewith all departed and desevered all the knights of the round table, and Sir Tristram returned again unto joyous guard, and Sir Palomitas followed the questing beast. Here endeth the second book of Sir Tristram that was drawn out of French into English, but here is no rehearsal of the third book, and here followeth the noble tale of the Sangreel that called is the Holy Vessel, and the signification of the blessed blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, Blessed Maudet B, the which was brought into this land by Joseph Arimathe. Therefore on all sinful souls blessed Lord have thou mercy. EXPLOSIT LIBER DRODESIME, ET INSIPIT DESSIMUS D'ARCISE. At the vigil of Pentecost, when all the fellowship of the round table were come unto Camelot, and there heard their service, and the tables were set ready to the meat, right so entered into the hall a full fair gentlewoman on horseback, that had ridden full fast, for her horse was all beswetted. Then she there alighted, and came before the king, and saluted him, and he said, Damazal, God thee bless. Sir, said she, for God's sake say me where Sir Lancelot is. Yonder ye may see him, said the king. Then she went unto Lancelot, and said, Sir Lancelot, I salute you on King Pele's behalf, and I require you come on with me hereby into a forest. Then Sir Lancelot asked her with whom she dwelled. I dwelled, said she, with King Pele's. What will ye with me, said Lancelot? Ye shall know, said she, when ye come dither. Well said he, I will gladly go with you. So Sir Lancelot bade his squire saddle his horse, and bring his arms, and in all haste he did his commandment. Then came the queen unto Lancelot, and said, Will ye leave us at this high feast? Madam, said the gentlewoman, which ye will, he shall be with you to mourn by dinner time. If I wished, said the queen, that he should not be with us here to mourn. He should not go with you by my good will. Right so departed Sir Lancelot with the gentlewoman, and rode until that he came into a forest and into a great valley, where he saw an abbey of nuns. And there was the squire ready and opened the gates, and so they entered and descended off their horses. And there came a fair fellowship about Sir Lancelot, and welcomed him, and were passing glad if he is coming. And then they led him into the abbey's chamber, and unharmed him. And right so he was where upon a bed, lying two of his cousins. Sir Bors and Sir Lionel, and then he waked them, and when they saw him they made great joy. Sir, said Sir Bors unto Sir Lancelot, what adventure hath brought you hither? For we weened to mourn to have found you at Camelot. As God may help, said Sir Lancelot, a gentlewoman brought me hither, but I know not the cause. In the meanwhile that they thus stood talking together, there came twelve nuns that brought with them gala-had, the which was passing fair and well-made, that unneth in the world men might not find his match, and all those ladies wept. There, said they all, we bring you here, this child, the which we have nourished, and we pray you to make him a night, for ever more worthy a man's hands may he not receive the order of nighthood. Sir Lancelot beheld the young squire, and saw him seemingly and demure as a dove, with all manner of good features, that he weened of his age never to have seen so fair a man of form. Then said Sir Lancelot, cometh this desire of himself. He and all they said yea. Then shall he, said Sir Lancelot, receive the high order of nighthood as to mourn, at the reverence of the high feast. That night Sir Lancelot had passing good cheer, and on the mourn at the hour of prime, at gala-had's desire, he made him night and said, God make him a good man, for our beauty faileth you not as any that liveth. CHAPTER 2 Now, fair Sir, said Sir Lancelot, will ye come with me unto the court of King Arthur? Nay said he, I will not go with you as at this time. Then he departed from them, and took his two cousins with him, and so they came unto Camelot, by the hour of undony, on with Sunday. By that time the king and queen were gone to the minster to hear their service. Then the king and the queen were passing glad of Sabor's and Solianel, and so was all the fellowship. So when the king and all the knights were come from service, the barons espied in the sieges of the round table all about, written with golden letters, here ought to sit he, and he ought to sit here. And thus they went so long, till that they came to the siege perilous, where they found letters newly written of gold which said, Four hundred winters, and four and fifty accomplished, after the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, ought this siege to be fulfilled. Then all they said, this is a marvellous thing, and adventurous, in the name of God, said Sir Lancelot, and then succumbed the term of the writing from the birth of our Lord unto that day. It seemed with me, said Sir Lancelot, this siege ought to be fulfilled this same day, for this is the feast of Pentecost, after the four hundred and four and fifty year, and if it would please all parties, I would none of these letters were seen this day, till he become that ought to enchieve this adventure. Then made they to ordain a cloth of silk, for to cover these letters in the siege perilous. Then the king bade haste unto dinner, Sir, said Sacae the steward, If ye go now unto your meat, ye shall break your old custom of your court, for ye have not used on this day to sit at your meat, or that ye have seen some adventure. Ye say sooth, said the king, but I had so great a joy of Salonslot and of his cousins, which be come to the court whole and sound, so that I be thought me not of my old custom. So as they stood speaking, in came a squire and said unto the king, Sir, I bring unto you marvellous tidings. What be they, said the king? There is here beneath at the river a great stone, which I saw fleet above the water, and therein I saw sticking sword. The king said, I will see that marvell. So all the knights went with him, and when they came to the river they found their stone fleeting, as it were of red marvell, and therein stuck a fair rich sword, and in the pommel thereof were precious stones wrought with subtle letters of gold. Then the barons read the letters which said in this wise, Never shall man take me hence, but only he, by whose side I ought to hang, and he shall be the best knight of the world. When the king had seen the letters he said unto Salonslot, Fair sir, this sword ought to be yours, for I am sure ye be the best knight of the world. Then Salonslot answered full soberly, Sir, it is not my sword. Also, sir, which ye well, I have no hardiness to set my hand to it, for it longed not to hang by my side. Also who that hath saith to take the sword and faileth of it? He shall receive a wound by that sword, but he shall not be whole long after. And I will let ye wit that this same day shall the adventures of the Sangreal, that is called the Holy Vessel, begin. CHAPTER 3 Now Fair Nephew said the king unto Sir Gawain, Asay ye for my love. Sir he said, Save your good grace, I shall not do that. Sir said the king, Asay to take the sword, and at my commandment. Sir, said Gawain, your commandment I will obey. And therewith he took up the sword by the handles. But he might not stir it. I thank you, said the king to Sir Gawain. My lord Sir Gawain, said Salonslot, Now which ye well, this sword shall touch you so sore, that ye shall will ye had never set your hand there, too, for the best castle of this realm. Sir he said, I might not withsay my uncle's will and commandment. But when the king heard this, he repented it much, and said unto Sir Percy Vale, that he should say for his love. And he said, Gladly, for to bear Sir Gawain's fellowship. And therewith he set his hand on the sword and drew it strongly, but he might not move it. Then there were no more that durst be so hardy to set their hands there, too. Now may ye go to your dinner, said Sir Kay, unto the king, for a marvellous adventure have ye seen. So the king and all went into the court, and every night drew his own place, and set him therein, and young men that were knights served them. So when they were served, and all sieges fulfilled, save only the siege perilous, a none there befell a marvellous adventure, that all the doors and windows of the palace shut by themselves. Not for then the hall was not greatly dark, and therewith they were all abashed, both one and other. Then King Arthur spake first and said, By God, fair fellows and lords, we have seen this day marvels, but all night I suppose we shall see greater marvels. In the meanwhile came in a good old man, and an ancient, clothed all in white, and there was no knight new from whence he came. And with him he brought a young knight, both on foot in red arms, without sword or shield, savor scabbard hanging by his side. And these words he said, Peace be with you, fair lords. Then the old man said unto Arthur, Sir, I bring here a young knight, the witches of King's lineage, and of the kindred of Joseph of Arimathe, whereby the marvels of his court, and of strange realms shall be fully accomplished. Chapter 4 The King was right glad of his words, and said unto the good man, Sir, ye be right welcome, and the young knight with you. Then the old man made the young man to unharm him, and he was in a coat of red sandal, and bare a mantle upon his shoulder, that was fared with ermine, and put that upon him. And the old knight said unto the young knight, Sir, follow me, and anon he led him unto the siege perilous, where beside sat this launch-lot, and the good man lift up the cloth, and found their letters that said thus, This is the siege of Galahad, the Hort Prince. Sir said the old knight, which ye well that place is yours. And then he set him down surely in that siege. And then he said to the old man, Sir, ye may now go your way, for well have ye done that ye were commanded to do, and recommend me unto my Grandsire, King Peleys, and unto my Lord Pecher, and say them on my behalf. I shall come and see them as soon as ever I may. So the good man departed, and there met him twenty noble squires, and so took their horses, and went their way. Then all the nights of the table round marveled greatly of Sir Galahad, that he dost sit there in that siege perilous, and was so tender of age, and wist not from whence he came, but all only by God, and said, This is he by whom the Sangreal shall be enchieved, for there sat never none but he, but he were mischieved. Then Salonslot beheld his son, and had great joy of him. Then Vores told his fellows, Upon pain of my life, this young night shall come unto great worship. This noise was great in all the court, so that it came to the Queen. Then she had marvel, what night it might be, that deised adventure him to sit in the siege perilous. Then he said unto the Queen, He resembled much unto Salonslot. I may well suppose, said the Queen, that Salonslot beget him on King Pele's daughter, by the which he was made to live by, by enchantment, and his name is Galahad. I would faint see him, said the Queen, for he must needs be a noble man, for so is his father that him beget. I report me unto all the table round. So when the meat was done, that the King and all were risen, the King yead unto the siege perilous, and lift up the cloth, and found there the name of Galahad. And then he showed it unto Sagawain, and said, Fair Nephew, now have we among us Sagawahad, the good night that shall worship us all, and upon pain of my life he shall enchieve the Sangrayale. Right as Salonslot has done us to understand. Then came King Arthur unto Galahad, and said, Sir ye be welcome, for ye shall move many good nights to the quest to the Sangrayale, and ye shall enchieve that never nights might bring to an end. Then the King took him by the hand, and went down from the palace to show Galahad the adventures of the stone. Chapter 5 The Queen heard thereof, and came after with many ladies, and showed them the stone where it hoved on the water. Sir said the King unto Sagawahad, Here is a great marvel as ever I saw, and right good nights have assayed and failed. Sir said Galahad, That is no marvel. For this adventure is not theirs but mine, and for the surety of this sword I brought none with me, for here by my side hangeth a scabbard. And a none he laid his hand on the sword, and lightly drew it out of the stone, and put it in the sheath and said unto the King, Now it goeth better than it did a forehand.  Now have I that sword that some time was the good night's ballonless avarage, and he was a passing good man of his hands. And with this sword he slew his brother Balan, and that was great pity, for he was a good night, and either slew other through a dollarous stroke that Balan gave unto my grandfather the King Pellays. The wish is not yet whole, nor not shall be till I heal him. Therewith the King and all aspired, where came riding down the river, a lady on a white palfrey toward them. Then she saluted the King and the Queen, and asked if Salonslot was there, and then he answered himself, I am here, fair lady. Then she said all with weeping, How your great doing is changed, this day, in the morn. Damazol, why say you so, said Laonslot? I say you soothed, said the Damazol, for ye were this day the best night of the world. But who should say so now? He should be a liar, for there is now one better than ye, and well it is proved by the adventures of the sword, where two ye doest not set to your hand, and that is the change in leaving of your name. Wherefore I make unto you a remembrance, that ye shall not wean from henceforth, that ye be the best night of the world. As touching unto that, said Laonslot, I know well I was never the best. Yes, that the Damazol, that were ye, and are yet of any sinful man of the world. That the king, Nakian, the hermit, sendeth thee word, that thee shall befall the greatest worship that ever befell king in Britain. And I say ye wherefore, for this day the Sangreal appeared in thy house, and fed thee, and all thy fellowship was around table. So she departed, and went that same way that she came. Chapter 6 Now, said the king, I am sure at this quest of the Sangreal, shall all ye of the table round depart, and never shall I see you again whole together. Therefore I will see you all whole together, in the meadow of Camelot, to joust and to tourney, that after your death men may speak of it, that such good nights were holy together such a day. As unto that council and at the king's request they accorded all, and took on their harness that lunged unto jousting. But all this moving of the king was for this intent. For to see Gala had proved, for the king deemed he should not lightly come again unto the court after his departing. So were they assembled in the meadow, both more and less. Then Segalah had, by the prayer of the king and queen, did upon him a noble jesserance, and also he did on his helm. But shield would he take none, for no prayer of the king. And then Segaway and other knights prayed him to take a spear. Right so he did, and the queen was in a tower with all her ladies, for to behold that tournament. Then Segalah had dressed him in midst of the meadow, and began to break spears marvelously, that all men had wonder of him. For he there surmounted all other knights, for within a while he had defiled many good nights of the table-round save twain. That was to launch lot and to persevere. CHAPTER VII Then the king, at the queen's request, made him to alight and to unlace his helm, that the queen might see him in the visage. When she beheld him, she said, Soothly, I dare well say, that so launch lot begat him. For never two men resembled more in likeness. Therefore it is no marvel, though he be of great prowess. So a lady that stood by the queen said, Madam, for God's sake ought he of right to be so good a knight. Yea, for Sooth said the queen, For he is of all parties come of the best knights of the world and of the highest lineage. For so launch lot is come but of the eighth degree from our Lord Jesus Christ, and Segalah had is of the ninth degree from our Lord Jesus Christ. For I dare say they be the greatest gentlemen of the world, and then the king and all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went to even song to the great minster, and so after upon that to supper, and every night sat in his own place as they were to forehand. Then anon they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them besought the place should all to drive. In the midst of this blast entered a sunbeam more clearer by seven times than ever they saw day, and all they were alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began every night to behold other, and either saw other, by their seeming, fairer than ever they saw afore. Not for then there was no knight might speak one word a great while, and so they looked every man on other as they had been dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail covered with white Samite, but there was none might see it, nor who bear it. And there was all the hall fulfilled with good odours, and every night had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world. And when the Holy Grail had been born through the hall, then the Holy Vessel departed suddenly, that they wish not where it became. Then had they all breathed to speak, and then the King yielded thankings to God, of his good grace that he had sent them, Sertes said the King. We ought to thank our Lord Jesus greatly, for that he hath showed us this day at the reverence of this high feast of Pentecost. Now said Sir Gawain, we have been served this day of what meats and drinks we thought on, but one thing beguiled us, we might not see the Holy Grail. It was so preciously covered, wherefore I will make here a vow that to mourn, without longer abiding, I shall labour in the quest of the Sangriail, that I shall hold me out a twelve month and a day, or more if need be, and never shall I return again unto the court, till I have seen it more openly, than it hath been seen here. And if I may not speed, I shall return again, as he that may not be against the will of our Lord Jesus Christ. When they of the table round, hath Sir Gawain say so. They arose up at the most part, and made such a vows at Sir Gawain had made. Anon, as King Arthur, heard this, he was greatly displeased, for he whist well, they might not again say there are vows. Alas, said King Arthur unto Sir Gawain, ye have nice laid me with the avow and promise that ye have made. For through you ye have bereft me the fairest fellowship and the truest of knighthood, that ever were seen together in any realm of the world. For when they depart from hence, I am sure they all shall never meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the quest. And so it forethinketh me a little, for I have loved them as well as my life. Wherefore it shall grieve me, right sore, the debartition of this fellowship, for I have had an old custom to have them in my fellowship. End of book 13, chapters 1 through 7. Chapters 8 through 12, book 13, volume 2 of LeMorte d'Arthur. This is LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by David Cole, Medway, Massachusetts. LeMorte d'Arthur, volume 2, by Sir Thomas Mallory. Chapter 8. And there with the tears fairly in his eyes. And then he said, Gawain, Gawain, ye have set me in great sorrow, for I have great doubt that my true fellowship shall never meet here more again. I said to Launcelot, Comfort for yourself, for it shall be unto us a great honour and much more than if we died in any other places, for of death we be sicker. Our Launcelot said the King, the great love that I have had unto you all the days of my life maketh me to say such dullful words, for never Christian King had never so many worthy men at his table as I have had this day at the round table, and that is my great sorrow. When the Queen, ladies and gentlemen, whist these tidings, they had such sorrow in heaviness that there might no tongue tell it, for those nights had held them in honour and shirty. But among all other, Queen Guenaba made great sorrow. I marvel, said she, my Lord would suffer them to depart from him. Thus was all the court troubled for the love of the Departition of those nights, and many of those ladies that loved nights would have gone with their lovers, and so had they done, had not an old night come among them in religious clothing. And then he spake all on high and said, Fair Lords, which have sworn in the quest to the Sangriao, thus Sendith Unakian, the Hermit, word that none in this quest lead lady nor gentlewoman with him, for it is not to do in so high a service as they labour in. For I warn you plain, he that is not clean of his sins, he shall not see the mysteries of our Lord Jesus Christ, and for this cause they left these ladies in gentlewoman. After this the Queen came unto Galahad and asked him of whence he was, and of what country. He told her of whence he was, and son unto Lancelot she said he was. After that he said neither yea nor nay. So God me help, said the Queen, of your father ye need not to shame you, for he is the goodliest night, and of the best men of the world come, and of the strain of all parties of kings. Wherefore ye ought of right to be of your deeds a passing good man, and certainly she said, we resemble him much. Thence Galahad was a little ashamed and said, Madam, Sith you know in certain, wherefore do you ask it me? For he that is my father shall be known openly and all betimes, and then they went to rest them. And in the honour of the Highness of Galahad he was led into King Arthur's chamber, and they arrested in his own bed. And as soon as it was day the King arose, for he had no rest of all that night for sorrow. Then he went unto Gawain and to Ceylon's lot, that were arisen for to hear mass. And then the King again said, O Gawain, Gawain, ye have betrayed me, for never shall my court be amended by you. But ye will never be sorry for me as I am for you. And therewith the tears began to run down by his visage. And therewith the King said, O knight Ceylon's lot, I require thee thou counsel me, for I would that this quest were undone, and it might be. Sir Ceylon's lot, ye saw yesterday so many worthy knights that then were sworn that they may not leave it in no manner of wise. That what I well said the King, but it shall be so heavy me at their departing, that I what well there shall no manner of joy remedy me. And then the King and the Queen went unto the minster. So Anon, Laun's lot and Gawain commanded their men to bring their arms, and when they were all armed, saved their shields and their helms, then they came to their fellowship, which were already in the same wise, for to go to the minster to hear their service. Then after the service was done, the King would wit how many had undertaken the quest of the Holy Grail, and to accompany them he prayed them all. Then found they by the tail, and hundred and fifty, and all were knights of the round table. And then they put on their helms and departed, and recommended them all holy unto the Queen, and there was weeping in great sorrow. Then the Queen departed into her chamber and held her, so that no man should perceive her great sorrows. When Sir Laun's lot missed the Queen, he went till her chamber, and when she saw him she cried aloud, O Laun's lot, Laun's lot, ye have betrayed me and put me to the death, for to leave thus, my Lord. Ah, madam, I pray you be not displeased, for I shall come again as soon as I may with my worship. Alas said she that ever I saw you, but he that suffered upon the cross for all mankind, ye be unto you good conduct and safety, and all the whole fellowship. Right so departed Sir Laun's lot, and found his fellowship that abode his coming. And so they mounted upon their horses, and rode through the streets of Camelot, and there was weeping of rich and poor, and the King turned away, and might not speak for weeping. So within a while they came to a city, and a castle at Hightvagon. And they entered into the castle, and the Lord of that castle was an old man at Hightvagon, and he was a good man of his living, and set open the gates, and made them all the cheer that he might. And so on the morn they were all accorded that they should depart every which from another. And on the morn they departed with weeping cheer, and every night took the way that him liked best. Chapter 9 Now Rydith Sagalla had yet without shield, and so he rode four days without any adventure. And at the fourth day after evensong he came to a white abbey, and there he was received with great reverence, and led unto a chamber, and there was he unarmed, and then was he where of two nights of the table round. One was Sir Bagdermagus, and that other was Sir Owen. And when they saw him they went unto Galahad, and made of him great solace, and so they went unto supper. Sirs said Sagalla had. What adventure brought you hither? Sir said they. It is told us that within this place is a shield that no man may bear about his neck, but he be mischieved Uther did, within three days or maimed for ever. Ah, Sir, said King Bagdermagus, I shall bear it to-morrow for to assay this adventure. In the name of God said Sir Galahad. Sir, said Bagdermagus, and I may not enchieve the adventure of this shield, ye shall take it upon you, for I am sure ye shall not fail. Sir said Galahad, I right well agree me thereto, for I have no shield. So on the morn they arose and heard mass. Then Bagdermagus asked where the adventurous shield was. A non-amunc led him behind an altar, where the shield hung, as white as any snow, but in the midst was a red cross. Sir, said the monk, this shield ought not to be hanged about no knight's neck, but he be the worthiest knight of the world. For I counsel you knights to be well advised. Well, said Bagdermagus, I what well that I am not the best knight of the world, but yet I shall assay to bear it, and so bear it out of the minster. And then he said unto Galahad, An it please you to abide here still, till ye wit how that I speed. I shall abide you, said Galahad. Then King Bagdermagus took with him a good squire, to bring tidings unto Sir Galahad how he spared. Then when they had ridden a two-mile, and came to a fair valley, a fore and a hermitage, then they saw a knight come from that part in white armour, horse and all. And he came as fast as his horse might run, and his spear in his rest, and Bagdermagus dressed his spear against him, and break it upon the white knight. But the other struck him so hard that he brassed the mails, and sheafed him through the right shoulder, for the shield covered him not as at that time, and so he bear him from his horse. And therewith he alighted, and took the white shield from him, saying, Knight thou hast done thyself gratefully, for this shield ought not to be born, but by him that shall have no peer that liveth. And then he came to Bagdermagus' squire and said, Bear this shield unto the good knight Sir Galahad, that thou left in the abbey, and greet him well by me. Sir said the squire, what is your name? Take thou no heed of my name, said the knight, for it is not for thee to know, nor for non-earthly man. Now first sir said the squire, at the reference of Jesus Christ, tell me for what cause this shield may not be born, but if the bearer thereof be mischieved. Now sith thou hast conjured me so as had the knight. This shield behovet unto no man, but unto Galahad. And the squire went unto Bagdermagus, and asked whether he were sore-wounded or not. Yea forsooth said he, I shall escape hard from the death. Then he fetched his horse, and brought him with great pain unto an abbey. Then was he taken down softly and unarmed, and laid in a bed, and there was look to his wounds, and as the book telleth, he lay there long, and escaped hard with his life. CHAPTER X Sir Galahad said the squire, that night that wounded Bagdermagus sendeth you greeting, and bade that ye should bear this shield, where through great adventures should befall. Now blessed be God and fortune, said Galahad. And then he asked his arms, and mounted upon his horse, and hung the white shield about his neck, and commended them unto God. And Sir Owain said he would bear him fellowship if it pleased him. Sir, said Galahad, that may ye not, for I must go alone, save this squire shall bear me fellowship, and so departed Owain.  Sir, said Galahad, by this shield be many marvels fallen. Sir, said the knight, it befell after the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ thirty-two year, the Joseph of Arimathe, the gentle knight, the which took down our Lord off the holy cross. At that time he departed from Jerusalem, with a great party of his kindred with him, and so he laboured till that they came to the city that hight Saras. And at that same hour the Joseph came to Saras. There was a king that hight Eve Lake, that had great war against the Saracen, and in a special against one Saracen, the which was king Avelake's cousin, a rich knight and a mighty, which marched nigh this land, and his name was called Ptolemy Lafence. So on a day these two met to do battle.  But if he left his belief of the old law, and believed upon the new law. And then there he showed him the right belief of the holy trinity, to the which he agreed unto with all his heart, and there this shield was made for king Eve Lake, in the name of him that died upon the cross. And then through his good belief he had the better of king Ptolemy. And when Eve Lake was in the battle there was a cloth set for the shield, and when he was in the greatest peril he let put away the cloth, and then his enemies saw a figure of a man on the cross, where through they all were discomfort.  And as soon as that man had touched the cross with his hand it was as whole as ever it was to four. Then soon after there fell a great marvel, that the cross of the shield at one time vanished away, that no man wist where it became. And then king Eve Lake was baptized, and for the most part all the people of that city. So soon after Joseph would depart, and king Eve Lake would go with him, whether he wold or nold. And so by fortune there came into this land, that at that time was called Great Britain, and there they found a great felon panem that put Joseph into prison. And so by fortune tidings came unto a worthy man that hight man dreams, and he assembled all his people for the great renown he had heard of Joseph, and so he came into the land of Great Britain, and disherited this felon panem, and consumed him, and there with delivered Joseph out of prison. And after that all the people were turned to the Christian faith. CHAPTER 11 Not long after that Joseph was laid in his deathly bed. And when king Eve Lake saw that he made much sorrow and said, For thy love I have left my country, and sith ye shall depart out of this world, leave me some token of yours that I may think on you. Joseph said, That will I do full gladly. Now bring me your shield that I took you, when ye went into battle against king Ptolemy. Then Joseph bled sore at the nose, so that he might not by no mean be staunched.  Now ye may see I remembers that I love you, for ye shall never see this shield, but ye shall think on me, and it shall be always as fresh as it is now. And never shall man bear this shield about his neck, but he shall repent it, unto the time that Gala had, the good night, bear it, and the last of my lineage shall have it about his neck, that shall do many marvellous deeds. Now said king Eve Lake, Where shall I put this shield, that this worthy night may have it? Ye shall leave it there as Nackey and the Hermit, shall be put after his death. For thither shall that good night come, the fifteenth day after that he shall receive the order of knighthood. And so that day that they set is the time that he have his shield, and in the same abbey lieth Nackey and the Hermit, and then the white night vanished away. Anon as the squire had heard these words, ye lighted off his acne, and kneeled down at Gala had's feet, and prayed him that he might go with him, till he had made him night. Ye I would not refuse you, then will ye make me a night, said the squire, and that order, by the grace of God, shall be well set in me. So Gala had granted him, and turned again unto the abbey where they came from, and their men made great joy of Gala had. And Anon as he was alighted, there was a monk brought him unto a tomb in a churchyard, where there was such a noise, that heard it should verily nigh be mad or lose his strength, and so they said, We deem it is a fiend. CHAPTER XII. Now lead me thither, said Gala had, and so they did, all armed save his helm. Now said the good man, go to the tomb and lift it up. So he did, and heard a great noise, and piteously he said, that all men might hear it. But Gala had, the servant of Jesus Christ, come thou not nigh me, for thou shalt make me go again there, where I have been so long. But Gala had was nothing frayed, but lifted up the stone, and there came out so foul as smoke, and after he saw the foulest figure leap there out, that ever he saw in the likeness of a man, and then he blessed him, and whisked well it was a fiend. Then heard he a voice say, Gala had, I see the environment about thee, so many angels, that my power may not dear thee. Right so, sir Gala had, saw a body all armed lie in that tomb, and beside him a sword. Now fair brother said Gala had, Let us remove this body, for it is not worthy to lie in this churchyard, for he was a false Christian man. Therewith they all departed and went to the Abbey, and a non-as-he-was unarmed, a good man came and set him down by him, and said, Sir, I shall tell you what betokeneth all that ye saw in the tomb, for that covered body betokeneth the duress of the world, and the great sin that our Lord found in the world. For there was such wretchedness that the Father loved not the Son, nor the Son loved not the Father, and that was one of the causes that our Lord took flesh and blood of a clean maiden, for our sins were so great at that time that well nigh all was wickedness. Truly said Gala had, I believe you right well. So Sir Gala had rested him there that night, and upon the morn he made the square night, and asked him his name, and of what kindred he was come. Sir said he, men calleth me Melyas de Lille, and I am the Son of the King of Denmark. Now fair Sir said Gala had, Sith that ye become of kings and queens, now look that knighthood be well set in you, for ye ought to be a mirror unto all chivalry. Sir said some Melyas, ye say sooth, but Sir, Sith and ye have made me a knight, ye must of right grant me my first desire that is reasonable. Ye say sooth, said Gala had, Melyas said, then that ye will suffer me to ride with you in the quest of the sangriail, till that some adventure depart us. I grant you, sir. Then men brought Sir Melyas his armour, and his spear and his horse, and so Sir Gala had, and he rode forth all that week, or they found any adventure. And then upon a Monday in the morning, as they were departed from an abbey, they came to a cross which departed two ways, and in that cross were letters written that said thus, Now ye knights errant, the which goeth to seek knight's adventurous, see here two ways, that one way defendeth thee, that thou knee go that way, for he shall not go out of the way again, but if he be a good man and a worthy knight, and if thou go on the left hand, thou shalt not lightly there win prowess, for thou shalt in this way be soon assayed. Sir said Melyas to Gala had, if it like you to suffer me to take the way on the left hand, tell me, for there I shall well prove my strength. It were better, said Gala had, ye rode not that way. For I deem I should better escape in that way than ye. Nay, my lord, I pray you let me have that adventure. Take it in God's name, said Gala had. CHAPTER XIII Then rode Melyas into an old forest, and therein he rode two days and more. And then he came into a fair meadow, and there was a fair lodge of bows. And then he aspired in that lodge a chair, wherein was a crown of gold subtly wrought. Also there were cloths covered upon the earth, and many delicious meats set thereon. Sir Melyas beheld this adventure, and thought it marvelous, but he had no hunger but of the crown of gold he took much keep. And therewith he stooped down and took it up, and rode his way with it. And anon he saw a knight came riding after him that said, Knight, set down that crown which is not yours, and therefore defend you. Then Sir Melyas blessed him and said, Fair Lord of heaven, help and save thy new-made knight. And then they let their horses run as fast as they might, so that the other knight smote Sir Melyas through Hobbock and through the left side that he fell to the earth nigh dead. And then he took the crown and went his way, and Sir Melyas lay still and had no power to stir. In the meanwhile by fortune there came Sir Galahad and found him there in peril of death. And then he said, Ah Melyas, who hath wounded you? Therefore it had been better to have ridden the other way. And when Sir Melyas heard him speak, Sir he said, For God's love let me not die in this forest, but bear me unto the abbey here beside, that I may be confessed and have my rights. It shall be done, said Galahad, but where is he that hath wounded you? With that Sir Galahad heard in the leaves cry on high, Night, keep thee from me. Ah, Sir, said Melyas, beware, for that is he that hath slain me. Sir Galahad answered, Sir Knight, come on your peril. Then either dressed to other and came together as fast as their horses might run. And Galahad smote him so that his spear went through his shoulder and smote him down off his horse and in the falling Galahad's spear break. With that came out another night out of the leaves and break a spear upon Galahad or ever he might turn him.  And then he fled, and Sir Galahad pursued fast after him. And then he turned again unto Sir Melyas, and there he alighted and dressed him softly on his horse to fore him. For the truncheon of his spear was in his body, and Sir Galahad stirred up behind him, and held him in his arms, and so brought him to the abbey, and there unarmed him and brought him to his chamber.  Then came there an old monk, which some time had been a knight, and beheld Sir Melyas. And anon he ransacked him, and then he said unto Sir Galahad, I shall heal him of his wound, by the grace of God, within the term of seven weeks. Then was Sir Galahad glad, and unarmed him, and said he would abide there three days. And then he asked Sir Melyas how it stood with him. Then he said he was turned unto helping. God be thanked. CHAPTER 14 Now a lie depart, said Galahad, for I have much on hand for many good nights be full busy about it, and this night and I were in the same quest of the Sangreel. Sir said a good man, for his sin he was thus wounded, and I, Marvel, said the good man, how ye durst take upon you so rich a thing as the High Order of Nighthood without clean confession. And that was the cause ye were bitterly wounded. For the way on the right hand be tokeneth the highway of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of a good, true, good liver. And the other way be tokeneth the way of sinners and of misbelievers. And when the devil saw your pride in presumption, for to take you in the quest of the Sangreel, that made you to be overthrown, for it may not be achieved but by virtuous living. Also the writing on the cross was a signification of heavenly deeds, and of nightly deeds in God's works, and no nightly deeds in worldly works. And pride is head of all deadly sins that caused this night to depart from Galahad, and where thou tookest the crown of gold thou sinnest in covetous and in theft. All this were no nightly deeds. And this Galahad, the holy night, the which fought with the two knights, the two knights signify the two deadly sins which were holy in this night, Melyas, and they might not withstand you for year without deadly sin. Now departed Galahad from thence, and be taught them all unto God. Sir Melyas said, My Lord Galahad, as soon as I may ride I shall seek you. God send you health, said Galahad, and so took his horse and departed, and rode many journeys forward and backward, as adventure would lead him. And at the last it happened him to depart from a place or a castle, the which was named Ablasor, and he had heard no mass, the which he was want ever to hear, or ever he departed out of any castle or place, and kept that for a custom. Then Sir Galahad came to a mountain where he found an old chapel, and found there nobody. For all, all was desolate, and there he kneeled before the altar, and be sought God of wholesome counsel. So as he prayed he heard a voice that said, Go thou now, thou adventurous knight, to the castle of maidens, and there do thou away the wicked customs. CHAPTER XV When Sir Galahad heard this he thanked God, and took his horse, and he had not ridden but half a mile he saw in the valley of four him a strong castle with deep ditches, and there ran beside it a fair river that hights seven, and there he met with a man of great age and either saluted other, and Galahad asked him of the castle's name. Fair Sir said he, it is the castle of maidens, that is a cursed castle, said Galahad, and all there that be conversant therein, for all pity is out thereof, and all hardiness and mischief is therein. Therefore I counsel you, Sir Knight, to turn again. Sir said Galahad, what you well I shall not turn again. Then looked Sir Galahad on his arms that nothing failed him, and then he put his shield before him, and anon there met him seven fair maidens. The witch said unto him, Sir Knight, ye ride here in a great folly, for ye have the water to pass over. Why should I not pass the water, said Galahad? So rode he away from them, and met with a squire that said, Knight, those knights in the castle defy you, and defend in you ye go no further, till that they wit what ye would. Fair Sir, said Galahad, I come forth to destroy the wicked custom of this castle. Sir, and ye will abide by that ye shall have enough to do. Go ye now, said Galahad, and haste my needs. Then the squire entered into the castle, and anon after there came out of the castle seven knights, and all were brethren. And when they saw Galahad they cried, Knight, keep thee, for we are surely nothing but death. Why, said Galahad, will ye all have a do with me at once? Ye, said they, there too mayst thou trust. Then Galahad put forth his spear, and smote the foremost to the earth, that near he break his neck. And there with all the other smote him on his shield great strokes, so that their spears break. Then Sir Galahad drew out his sword, and set upon them so hard that it was marvel to see it, and so through great force he made them to forsake the field. And Galahad chased them till they entered into the castle, and so passed through the castle at another gate. And there met Sir Galahad an old man clothed in religious clothing, and said, Sir, have here the keys of this castle. Then Sir Galahad opened the gates, and saw so much people in the streets that he might not number them, and all said, Sir ye be welcome, for long have we abidened here our deliverance. Then came to him a gentle woman, and said, These knights be fled, but they will come again this night, and here to begin again their evil custom. What will ye that I shall do? said Galahad. Sir, said the gentle woman, that ye send after all the knights hither that hold their lands of this castle, and make them to swear for to use the customs that were used here to fore of old time. I will well, said Galahad, and there she brought him and horn of ivory, bound in with gold richly, and said, Sir, blow this horn which will be heard two mile about this castle. When Sir Galahad had blown the horn he set him down upon a bed. Then came a priest to Galahad, and said, Sir, it is past a seven year gone that these seven brethren came into this castle and harbored with the lord of this castle that hight the duke Lianor, and he was lord of all this country, and when they aspired the duke's daughter, that was a full fair woman. Then by their false coven they made debate betwixt themselves, and the duke of his goodness would have departed them, and there they slew him and his eldest son. And then they took the maiden in the treasure of the castle, and then by great force they held all the knights of this castle against their will under their abysses, and in great service and trourage robbing and pilling the poor common people of all that they had. So it happened on a day that duke's daughter said, ye have done unto me great wrong to slay mine own father and my brother, and thus to hold our lands. Not for then, she said, ye shall not hold this castle for many years, for by one night ye shall be overcome. Thus she prophesied seven years gone. Well said the seven knights, sythen ye say so, there shall never lady nor knight pass this castle, but they shall abide, mauger their heads, or die therefore till that night become by whom we shall lose this castle. And therefore is it called the maiden's castle, for they have devoured many maidens. Now said Galahad, is she here for whom this castle was lost? Nacer said the priest, she was dead within these three knights after that she was thus enforced. And sythen have they kept her younger sister, which in dearth great pains with moe other ladies. By this were the knights of the country come, and then he made them do homage and fealty to the king's daughter, and set them in great ease of heart, and in the morning there came one to Galahad and told him how that Gawain, Gareth, and Oowain had slain the seven brethren. I suppose well said Sir Galahad, and took his armor and his horse and commended them unto God. CHAPTER XVI. And now sayeth the tale, after Sir Gawain departed he rode many journeys, both twoward and froward, and at the last he came to the abbey where Sir Galahad had the white shield, and there Sir Gawain learned the way to sow after Sir Galahad, and so he rode to the abbey where Melius lay sick, and there Sir Melius told Sir Gawain of the marvelous adventures that Sir Galahad did. Sir Tess said Sir Gawain, I am not happy that I took not the way that he went, for and I may meet with him I will not depart from him lightly, for all marvelous adventures Sir Galahad and Sheeveth. Sir said one of the monks, he will not of your fellowship. Why? said Sir Gawain. Sir said he, for ye be wicked and sinful, and he is full blessed. Right as they thus stood talking there came in riding Sir Gareth, and then they made joy either of other, and on the morning they heard Mass, and so departed, and by the way they met with Sir Oowain less of uterus, and there Sir Oowain told Sir Gawain how he had met with none of the adventures that he departed from the court, nor we said Sir Gawain, and either promised other of the three knights not to depart while they were in that quest, but if fortune caused it. So they departed and rode by fortune till that they came by the castle of Maidens, and there the seven brethren aspired the three knights and said, So then we be flemed by one night from this castle. We shall destroy all the knights of King Arthur's that we may overcome for the love of Sir Gareth. And there with the seven knights set upon the three knights, and by fortune Sir Gawain slew one of the brethren, and each one of his fellows slew another, and so slew the remnant, and then they took the way under the castle, and there they lost the way that Sir Gareth had rode, and there every each of them departed from other, and Sir Gawain rode till he came to an hermitage, and there he found the good man saying his even song of our lady, and there Sir Gawain asked Harbour for charity, and the good man granted it him gladly. Then the good man asked him what he was. Sir he said, I am a knight of King Arthur's that am in the quest of the Sangreel, and my name is Sir Gawain. Sir said the good man, I would wit how it standeth betwixt God anew, and Sir Gareth had is a Maid and sinned never, and that is the cause he shall achieve, where he goeth that ye nor none such shall not attain, nor none in your fellowship, for ye have used the most untruous life that ever I heard knight live. For Certes had ye not been so wicked as ye are, never had the seven brethren been slain by you and your two fellows. For Sir Gareth had himself alone beat them all seven the day to four, but his living is such he shall slay no man lightly. Also, I may say you the castle of Maidens betokeneth the good souls that were in prison afore the incarnation of Jesu Christ, and the seven knights betoken the seven deadly sins that reigned that time in the world. And I may liken the good Galahad unto the son of the High Father, that lighted within a Maid, and bought all the souls out of Thrall. So did Sir Gareth deliver all the Maidens out of the woeful castle. Now, Sir Gawain, 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 Gawain, I may do no penance, for reenights adventures off suffer great woe and pain. Thel said the good man, and then he held his peace. And on the mourn, Sir Gawain departed from the hermit, and betought him unto God. And by adventure he met with Sir Aglavael and Sir Griflet, two knights of the table round. And they, too, rode four days without finding of any adventure, and at the fifth day they departed. And every child as fell them by adventure. Here leaveeth the tale of Sir Gawain and his fellows, and speak we of Sir Galahad. CHAPTER XVII. So when Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of Maidens, he rolled to Lee came to a waste forest, and there he met with Sir Lancelot and Sir Percival. But they knew him not, for he was new disguised. Right so Sir Lancelot, his father, dressed his beer and break 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 Percival, and smote him so on the helm, that it robed to the quaff of steel, and had not the sword swarmed, Sir Percival 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 night of the world. Ah! Sartish said she, all aloud that Lancelot and Percival might hear it. And 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 a dread to be known. Therewith he smote his horse with his spurs, and wrote a great pace forward then. Then perceived they both that he was Galahad, and up they got 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 spear some tidings, Sir Percival, at yonder recluse. Do as he lists, said Sir Lancelot. When Sir Percival came to the recluse, she knew him well enough, and Sir Lancelot both. But Sir Lancelot rode over Thwart, and long in the wild forest, and held no path but his wild adventure led him. And at the last he came to a stony cross which departed two ways in wasteland. And by the cross was a stone that was of marble, and it was so dark that Sir Lancelot might not wit what it was. Then Sir Lancelot looked by him and saw an old chapel, and there he weaned to have found people, and Sir Lancelot tied his horse to 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 bears six great candles, and the candlestick was of silver. And when Sir Lancelot saw the slight he had great willful 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. And so he fell asleep, and half waking and sleeping he saw come by him two palfreys all fair and white, the witch-bear littered there in lying a sick night. And when he was nigh the cross he there abode still. All this Sir Lancelot 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 where through I shall be blessed? For I have endured thus long for little trespass. A full great while complained the night thus, and always Sir Lancelot heard it. With that Sir Lancelot 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 Sangreel, which Lancelot had seen a foretime in King Pashor's house. And therewith the sick night 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 Lancelot wist not where it was become. For he was overtaken with the 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. When the sick night dressed him up and kissed the cross, anon his squire brought him his arms and asked his Lord how he did. Surty said he, I thank God right well, through the holy vessel I am healed. But I have marvel of this sleeping night 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 night, what some ever he be, he is unhappy. For as I deem he is of the fellowship of the round table, the witches entered into the quest of the sangreel. Sur, said the squire, here I have brought you all your arms, save your helm and your sword, and therefore by mine assent, now may you take this night's helm and his sword, and so he did. And when he was clean-armed he took Sir Lancelot's horse, for he was better than his, and so departed they from the cross. CHAPTER 19 Then anon Sir Lancelot 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 Lancelot, more harder than is the stone, and more bitter than is the wood, and more naked and bareer than is the leaf of the fig tree. Therefore go thou from hence, and withdraw thee from this holy place. And when Sir Lancelot heard this he was passing heavy and wished 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 to that he knew wherefore he was called so. Sir Lancelot 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 nights. And there he said, My sin and my wickedness have brought me unto great dishonor. For when I sought worldly adventures for worldly desires I ever achieved them and had the better in every place, and never was I discomfort 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 shameeth me so that I had no power to stir, nor speak when the holy blood appeared before me. So thus he sorrowed till it was day, and heard the fowls sing, then somewhat he was comforted. But when Sir Lancelot missed his horse and his harness, then he wished while 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 up to Mass. And then Lancelot kneeled down and cried on our Lord mercy for his wicked works. So when Mass was done Lancelot called him and prayed him for charity for to hear his life. Where the good will said the good man, Sir said he, Be of King Arthur's Court and of the Fellowship of the Round Table, Ye for Soothe, and my name is Sir Lancelot do Lake that hath been right well set 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 night living, for he hath caused you to have more worldly worship than any night that now liveth, and for your presumption to take upon you in deadly sin for it 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 night living now that ought to give God so great thank is ye, for he hath given you beauty, seamliness, and great strength above all other nights, 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 and God be against you. CHAPTER XX Then Sir Lancelot wept with heavy cheer and said, Now I know well ye say me soothe.  Truly said Sir Lancelot, that were me full loathe to discover. For this fourteen year I never discovered one thing that I have used, and that may I now wipe my shame and my disadvantage. And then he told there that good man all his life, and how he hath 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. Nor 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 not I think God of it. Then Sir Lancelot said, I pray you counsel me. I will counsel you, said the hermit, if you will ensure me that ye will never come in the queen's fellowship as much as ye may forbear. And then Sir Lancelot promised him he knold by the faith of his body. Look that your heart and your mouth accords, said the good man, and I shall ensure ye shall have more worship than ever ye had. Every father, said Sir Lancelot, I marvel of the voice that said to me marvelous 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 Lancelot, 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 night 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 wear some ever thou came, and now our Lord will suffer thee no longer, but that thou shalt know him whether thou wilt or knelt, and why the voice called thee bitterer than wood, for where over much sin dwelleth there may be but little sweetness, wherefore thou art likened to an old rotten tree. Now have I showed thee why thou art harder than stone and bitterer than the tree, now shall I show thee why thou art more naked and bare than the fig tree. It be fell that our Lord on Palm Sunday preached in Jerusalem, and there he found in the people that all hardness was harbored 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 Lancelot, when the Holy Grail was brought before thee, he found in thee no fruit, nor good thought, nor good will, and defiled with luxury. Sir Te said, Sir Lancelot, 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 Lancelot such penance as he might do, and to sow knighthood and sow a soiled him, and prayed Sir Lancelot to abide with him all that day. I will well, said Sir Lancelot, for I have neither helm, nor horse, nor sword. As for that, said the good man, I shall help you, or to mourn at even oven horse, and all that long done to you, and then Sir Lancelot repented him greatly. Here endeth off the history of Sir Lancelot, and here followeth of Sir Percival de Galas, which is the fourteenth book. End of Book 12, Chapters 16-20, Recording by Benua Athanasia Chapters 1-5, Book 14, Volume 2 of Le Mordartour This is a LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox Recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org reading by Lars Rolander. Le Mordartour, Volume 2 by Sir Thomas Mallory, Chapter 1 And now saith the tale that when Sir Lancelot was ridden after Sir Galahan, the witch had all these adventures above said, Sir Percival turned again unto the recluse, where he deemed to have tidings of that night that Lancelot followed, and so he kneeled at her window, and the recluse opened it and asked Sir Percival what he would. Madam, he said, I am a knight of a King Arthur's court, and my name is Sir Percival de Galis. When the recluse heard his name she had great joy of him, for Michael she had loved him to for any other night, for she ought to do so, for she was his aunt.  So on the morning Sir Percival went to the recluse and asked her if she knew that night with the white shield. Sir, said she, why would you it? Truly, madam said Sir Percival, I shall never be well at ease till that I know of that night's fellowship, and that I may fight with him, for I may not leave him so lightly, for I have the shame yet. Ah, Percival, said she, would you fight with him? I see well ye have great will to be slain as your father was, through outrageousness. Madam, said Sir Percival, it seemeth by your words that you know me. Ye, said she, I well ought to know you, for I am your aunt, although I be in a priory place. For some call me sometimes the queen of the wastelands, 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 Percival wept for very pity when that he knew it was his aunt. Ah, fair nephew, said she, when he 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 would not whether she be dead or alive. Sir, tis fair nephew, said she, your mother is dead, for after your departing from her, she took such a sorrow that unknown, after she was confessed, she died. Now God have mercy on her soul, said Sir Percival, it soar forth in gith me, but all we must change the life. Now, fair aunt, tell me what is the night? I deem it be he that bear the red arms on Whitson Day. Which you well, said she, that this is he, for otherwise he ought not to do, but to go in red arms. And that same night hath no peer, for he worketh all by miracle, and ye shall never be overcome of none earthly man's hand. Chapter 2 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 they are 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 Sangriel should be well known, and men asked him how men might know them that should best do, and to achieve the Sangriel. Then he said there should be three white balls that should achieve it, and the two should be maidens, and the third should be chased, and that one of the three should pass his father as much as the lion passes the leopard, both of strength and hardiness. They that heard Merlin say so said thus unto Merlin, Sith and there shall be such a night, thou shouldest ordain by thy crafts a sea that no man should sit in, but he all only that shall pass all other nights. Then Merlin answered that he would do so, and then he made the sea perilius in the which Gala had sat in at his meet on Whitsunday last past. Now, madam, said Sir Percival, so much have I heard of you that by my good will I will never have a do with Sir Gala had, 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 Gotre, where he hath a cousin Jermaine, and there may ye be lodged this night, and as he teacheth you, Siveth afters fast as ye can, and if he can tell you no tidings of him, ride straight unto the castle of Carbonic, where the maimed king is there lying, for there shall ye hear true tidings of him. Chapter 3 Then departed Sir Percival from his aunt, either making great sorrow, and so he wrote till even some time, and then he heard a clock smite, and then he was aware 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 wright good share all that night, and on the morning 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 a cloth of silk and gold. Then Sir Percival aspired 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 sacred ring he that lay within that parklos dressed him up, and uncovered his head, and then he besiemed a passing old man, and he had a crown of gold upon his head, and his shoulders were naked and unhealed unto his naval. And then Sir Percival aspired 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 Jesus Christ, forget not me! And so he lay down, but always he was in his prayers and horizons, 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 buried 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 Percival asked one of the brethren what he was. Sir, said the good man, ye have heard much of Joseph of Arimatai, how he was sent by Jesus 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 Saras he converted a king whose name was Everlake. And so this king came with Joseph into this land, and ever he was busy to be there as the Sangreal was, and on a time he nighted 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 night of my blood of the ninth degree become, that I may see him openly, that he shall achieve the Sangreal, that I may kiss him. Chapter 4 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 night shall come, the clearness of your eyes shall come again, and thou shalt see openly, and thy wounds shall be healed, and heirs shall they never close. And this befell of king Everlake, and this same king hath lived this 300 winters, this holy life, and men say the night is in the court that shall heal him. Sir, said the good man, I pray you tell me what night that ye be, and if ye be of King Arthur's court and of the table round. Yeah, for sooth, said he, and my name is Sir Perseval de Galis, and when the good man understood his name he made great joy of him. And then Sir Perseval departed, and rode till the hour of noon, and he met in a valley about twenty men of arms, which bear in a beer a night deadly slain. And when they saw Sir Perseval they asked him of whence he was, and he answered, of the court of King Arthur. Then they cried all at once, slain! Then Sir Perseval 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 night Sir Galahad, with the red arms, come there by adventure into those parts. And when he saw all those knights upon one night he cried, Save me that night's life! And then he dressed him toward the twenty men of arms, as fast as his horse might drive, with a 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 review, so that they would fight no more but fled to a thick forest, and Sir Galahad followed them. And when Sir Perseval saw him chase them so, he made great sorrow that his horse was away. And then he wished 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 Perseval might, he went after him on foot, crying. And then he met with the geoman riding upon a hackney, the which led in his hand a great steed, blacker than any bear. Ah, fair friend, said Sir Perseval, 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 rideeth for me. Sir Knight, said the geoman, I pray you hold me excused of that, for that I may not do, for which ye well the horse is such a man's horse, that an eye lent it to you or any man that he would slay me. Alas, said Sir Perseval, I had never so great sorrow as I have had for losing of yonder knight. Sir, said the geoman, I am right heavy for you, for a good horse would be seem you well, but I dare not deliver you this horse, but if ye would take him from me, that I will not do, said Sir Perseval. And so they departed, and Sir Perseval 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 geoman led, and he was clean-armed. Chapter 5 And anon the geoman came pricking after as fast as every knight, and asked Sir Perseval if he saw any knight riding on his black steed. Yes, sir, for sooth, said he, why, sir, ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that steed ye hath be known me with string, wherefore my lord will slay me in what place he findeth me. Well, said Sir Perseval, what wouldst thou that I did? Thou ceased well that I am on foot, but, and I had a good horse, I should bring him soon again. Sir, said the geoman, take mine hackney, and do the best ye can, and I shall sue you on foot to wit how that ye shall speed. Then Sir Perseval 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 Perseval, 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 Persevalus would wroth, and cried, Abide wicked knight, cowered and false-hearted knight, turn again and fight with me on foot. But he answered not, but passed on his way. When Sir Perseval saw, he would not turn, he cast away his helm and sword and said, Now am I a very wretch, cursed and most unhappy above all other knights. So in this sorrow he abode all that day till it was night, and then he was faint, and laid him down and slept till it was midnight. And then he awaked and saw for him a woman, which said unto him right fiercely, Sir Perseval, what does thou hear? He answered, I do neither good nor great ill. If thou wilt insure me, said she, that thou wilt fulfill my will, when I summon thee, I shall lend thee mine own horse, which I'll bear thee wither thou wilt. Sir Perseval was glad of her proffer, and ensured her to fulfill all her desire. Then abide me here, and I shall go and fetch you and horse.  When Perseval beheld that horse, he marveled that it was so great, and so well apparelled, and not for then he was so hardy, he leapt upon him, and took none heed of himself. And so, unknown as he was upon him, he thrust to him with his purse, and so he rode by a forest, and the moon shone clear, and within an hour and less, he bear him four days' journey thence, until he came to rough water, though which roared, and his horse would have borne him into it. End of book 14, chapters 1 to 5, read by Lars Rolander.