The High History of the Holy Graal

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"By my head," saith Kay, "I would that all the heads of all the
knights I have slain, save one only, were in the midst of this
hall, and that there were letters sealed with them to say that
they were slain by me. Then would you believe what you are not
willing to believe for the envious ones that think they are
better worth than I, and yet have not served you so well."

IV.

"Kay," saith the King, "Come forward, there is no need of this."

Messire Kay the Seneschal cometh to the dais before the King,
whereon was the coffer, and taketh it right boldly and setteth
one of his hands below it and the other above. The coffer opened
as soon as he clapped hand thereon, and the head within could be
seen all openly. A passing delicate-savoured smell and right
sweet issued therefrom, so that not a knight in the hall but
smelt it.

"Sir," saith Kay to the King, "Now may you know that some prowess
and some hardiment have I done in your service, nor might none of
your knights that you prize so highly open the coffer this day,
nor would you have known this day who is therein for them! But
now you know it by me, and therefore of so much ought you to be
well pleased with me!"

V.

"Sir," saith the damsel that had brought the coffer, "Let the
letters be read that are within, so shall you know who the knight
was and of what lineage, and what was the occasion of his death."

The King sitteth beside the Queen, and biddeth call one of his
own chaplains. Then maketh he all the knights in the hall be
seated and keep silence, and commandeth the chaplain that he
should spell out the letters of gold all openly according as he
should find them written. The chaplain looketh at them, and when
he had scanned them down, began to sigh.

"Sir," saith he to the King and Queen, "hearken unto me, and all
the other, your knights.

VI.

"These letters say that the knight whose head lieth in this
vessel was named Lohot and he was son of King Arthur and Queen
Guenievre. He had slain on a day that is past, Logrin the Giant,
by his hardiment. Messire Kay the Seneschal was passing by
there, and so found Lohot sleeping upon Logrin, for such was his
custom that he went to sleep upon the man after that he had slain
him. Messire Kay smote off Lohot's head, and so left the head
and the body on the piece of ground. He took the head of the
Giant and so bore it to the court of King Arthur. He gave the
King and Queen and all the barons of the court to understand that
he had slain him, but this did he not; rather, that he did was to
slay Lohot, according to the writing and the witness of these
letters."

When the Queen heareth these letters and this witting of her son
that came thus by his death, she falleth in a swoon on the
coffer. After that she taketh the head between her two hands,
and knew well that it was he by a scar that he had on his face
when he was a child. The King himself maketh dole thereof so
sore that none may comfort him, for before these tidings he had
thought that his son was still on live and that he was the Best
Knight in the world, and when the news came to his court that the
Knight of the Golden Circlet had slain the Knight of the Dragon,
he supposed that it had been Lohot his son, for that none had
named Perceval nor Gawain nor Lancelot. And all they of the
court are right sorrowful for the death of Lohot, and Messire Kay
hath departed, and if the damsel had nor respited the day until
the fortieth after the King's return, vengeance would have been
taken of Kay or ever he might have turned him thence. For never
did no man see greater dole made in the King's court than they
of the Table Round made for the youth. King Arthur and the Queen
were so stricken of sorrow that none durst call upon them to make
cheer. The damsel that brought thither the coffer was well
avenged of the shame that Messire Kay the Seneschal had done her
on a day that was past, for this thing would not have been known
so soon save it had been by her.

VII.

When the mourning for the King's son was abated, Lancelot and
many others said unto him, "Sir, you know well that God willeth
you should go to the castle that was King Fisherman's on
pilgrimage to the most Holy Graal, for it is not right to delay a
thing that one hath in covenant with God."

"Lords," saith the King, "right willingly will I go, and thereto
am I right well disposed."

The King apparelleth himself for the pilgrimage, and saith that
Messire Gawain and Lancelot shall go with him, without more
knights, and taketh a squire to wait upon his body, and the Queen
herself would he have taken thither but for the mourning she made
for her son, whereof none might give her any comfort. But or
ever the King departed he made the head be brought into the Isle
of Avalon, to a chapel of Our Lady that was there, where was a
worshipful holy hermit that was well loved of Our Lord. The King
departed from Cardoil and took leave of the Queen and all the
knights. Lancelot and Messire Gawain go along with him and a
squire that carrieth their arms. Kay the Seneschal was departed
from the court for dread of the King and his knights. He durst
not abide in the Greater Britain, and so betook himself into the
Lesser. Briant of the Isles was of great power in those times, a
knight of great strength and hardiment, for all Great Britain had
had many disputes between him and King Arthur. His land was full
strong of castles and forests and right fruitful, and many good
knights had he in his land. When he knew that Kay the Seneschal
had departed in such sort from the court, and that he had crossed
the sea, he sent for him and held him of his household, and said
that he would hold him harmless against the King and against all
men. When he knew that the King had departed he began to war
upon the land and to slay his men and to challenge his castles.

BRANCH XX.

TITLE I.

The story saith that King Arthur goeth his way and Lancelot and
Messire Gawain with him, and they had ridden so far one day that
night came on in a forest and they might find no hold. Messire
Gawain marvelled him much that they had ridden the day long
without finding neither hold nor hermitage. Night was come and
the sky was dark and the forest full of gloom. They knew not
whitherward to turn to pass the night.

"Lords," saith the King, "Where may we be able to alight to-
night?"

"Sir, we know not, for this forest is fight wearisome."

They make the squire climb up a tall tree and tell him to look as
far as he may to try whether he may espy any hold or house where
they may lodge. The squire looketh on all sides, and then
telleth them he seeth a fire a long way off as if it were in a
waste house, but that he seeth nought there save the fire and the
house.

"Take good heed," saith Lancelot, "in which quarter it is, so
that you may know well how to lead us thither."

He saith that right eath may he lead them.

II.

With that he cometh down and mounteth again on his hackney, and
they go forward a great pace and ride until they espy the fire
and the hold. They pass on over a bridge of wattles, and find
the courtyard all deserted and the house from within great and
high and hideous. But there was a great fire within whereof the
heat might be felt from afar. They alight of their horses, and
the squire draweth them on one side amidst the hall, and the
knights set them beside the fire all armed. The squire seeth a
chamber in the house and entereth thereinto to see if he may find
any meat for the horses, but he cometh forth again the swiftest
he may and crieth right sweetly on the Mother of the Saviour.
They ask him what aileth him, and he saith that he hath found the
most treacherous chamber ever he found yet, for he felt there,
what with heads and what with hands, more than two hundred men
dead, and saith that never yet felt he so sore afeared. Lancelot
went into the chamber to see whether he spake true, and felt the
men that lay dead, and groped among them from head to head and
felt that there was a great heap of them there, and came back and
sate at the fire all laughing. The King asketh whether the
squire had told truth. Lancelot answereth him yea, and that
never yet had he found so many dead men together.

"Methinketh," saith Messire Gawain, "Sith that they are dead we
have nought to fear of them, but God protect us from the living."

III.

While they were talking thus, behold you a damsel that cometh
into the dwelling on foot and all alone, and she cometh lamenting
right grievously.

"Ha, God!" saith she, "How long a penance is this for me, and
when will it come to an end?"

She seeth the knights sitting in the midst of the house. "Fair
Lord God," saith she, "Is he there within through whom I am to
escape from this great dolour?"

The knights hearken to her with great wonderment. They look and
see her enter within the door, and her kirtle was all torn with
thorns and briars in the forest. Her feet were all bleeding for
that she was unshod. She had a face of exceeding great beauty.
She carried the half of a dead man, and cast it into the chamber
with the others. She knew Lancelot again so soon as she saw him.

"Ha, God!" saith she, "I am quit of my penance! Sir," saith
she, "Welcome may you be, you and your company!"

Lancelot looketh at her in wonderment. "Damsel," saith he, "Are
you a thing on God's behalf?"

"Certes, Sir," saith she, "Yea! nor be you adread of nought! I
am the Damsel of the Castle of Beards, that was wont to deal with
knights so passing foully as you have seen. You did away the
toll that was levied on the knights that passed by, and you lay
in the castle that demanded it of them that passed through the
demesne thereof. But you had me in covenant that so the Holy
Graal should appear unto you, you would come back to me, for
otherwise never should I have been willing to let you go. You
returned not, for that you saw not the Graal. For the shame that
I did to knights was this penance laid upon me in this forest and
this manor, to last until such time as you should come. For the
cruelty I did them was sore grievous, for never was knight
brought to me but I made his nose be cut off or his eyes thrust
out, and some were there as you saw that had their feet or their
hands stricken off. Now have I paid full dear thereof since, for
needs must I carry into this chamber all the knights that are
slain in this forest, and within this manor must I cast them
according to the custom thereof, alone, without company; and this
knight that I carried in but now hath lain so long in the forest
that wild beasts have eaten half of his body. Now am I quit of
this foul penance, thanks to God and to you, save only that I
must go back when it shall be daylight in like manner as I came
here."

"Damsel," saith Lancelot, "Right glad am I that we should have
come to lodge the night here within, for love of you, for I never
saw I damsel that might do so cruel penance."

"Sir," saith she, "You know not yet what it is, but you will know
it ere long this night, both you and your fellows, and the Lord
God shield you from death and from mischief! Every night cometh
a rout of knights that are black and foul and hideous, albeit
none knoweth whence they come, and they do battle right sore the
one against other, and the stour endureth of a right long while;
but one knight that came within yonder by chance, the first night
I came hither, in like manner as you have come, made a circle
round me with his sword, and I sate within it as soon as I saw
them coming, and so had I no dread of them, for I had in
remembrance the Saviour of the World and His passing sweet
Mother. And you will do the same, and you believe me herein, for
these are knights fiends."

Lancelot draweth his sword and maketh a great circle round the
house-place, and they were within.

V.

Thereupon, behold you the knights that come through the forest
with such a rushing as it seemed they would rend it all up by the
roots. Afterward, they enter into the manor and snatch great
blazing firebrands and fling them one at another. They enter
into the house battling together, and are keen to fall upon the
knights, but they may not. They hurl the firebrands at them from
afar, but they are holding their shields and their swords naked.
Lancelot maketh semblant as though he would leap towards them,
and sore great cowardize it seemeth him nor to go against them.

"Sir," saith the damsel, "Take heed that you go not forth of the
circle, for you will be in sore jeopardy of death, for well you
see what evil folk be these."

Lancelot was nor minded to hold himself back, but that he would
go toward them sword drawn, and they run upon him on all sides,
but he defendeth him stoutly and smiteth the burning firebrands
so that he maketh red-hot charcoal fly, and thrusreth his sword
amidst their faces. King Arthur and Messire Gawain leap up to
help Lancelot and smite upon these evil folk and cut them limb
from limb, and they bellow like fiends so that the whole forest
resoundeth thereof. And when they fell to the ground, they may
no longer endure, but become fiends and ashes, and their bodies
and their horses become devils all black in the shape of ravens
that come forth of their bodies. They marvel right sore what
this may be, and say that such hostel is right grievous.

VI.

When they had put them all to the worse, they sate them down
again and rested; but scarce were they seated or ever another
rout of yet blacker folk came about them, and they bare spears
burning and flaming, and many of them carried dead knights that
they had slain in the forest, and dropped them in the midst of
the house, and then bid the damsel carry and set them with the
others. Howbeit, she answereth that she is quit of their
commandment and service, nor no longer is forced to do nought for
them sith that she hath done her penance. They thrust forward
their spears toward the King and the two knights, as though they
were come to avenge their companions; but they all three leapt up
together and attacked them right stoutly. But this rout was
greater and of knights more hideous. They began to press the
King and his knights hard, and they might not put them to the
worse as they did the others. And while they were thus in the
thickest of the conflict, they heard the stroke of a bell
sounding, and forthwith the knight fiends departed and hurried
away a great pace.

"Lords," saith the damsel, "Had this sound not been heard, scarce
might you have endured, for yet another huge rout of this folk
was coming in such sort as that none might have withstood them,
and this sound have I heard every night, whereby my life hath
been saved."

VII.

Josephus telleth us that as at this time was there no bell
neither in Greater Britain nor in Lesser; but folk were called
together by a horn, and in many places there were sheets of
steel, and in other places clappers of wood. King Arthur
marvelled him much of this sound, so clear and sweet was it, and
it well seemed him that it came on God's behalf, and right fain
was he to see a bell and so he might. They were the night until
the morrow in the house, as I tell you. The damsel took leave of
them and so departed. As they came forth of the hold, they met
three hermits that told them they were going to search for the
bodies that were in this manor so that they might bury them in a
waste chapel that was hard by, for such knights had lain there as
that henceforward the haunting of the evil folk would be stayed
in such sort as that they would have no more power to do hurt to
any, wherefore they would set therewithin a worshipful hermit
that should build up the place in holiness for the service of
God. The King was right joyful thereof, and told them that it
had been too perilous. They parted from the hermits and entered
into a forest, nor was there never a day so long as King Arthur
was on pilgrimage, so saith the history, but he heard the sound
of one single bell every hour, whereof he was right glad. He
bade Messire Gawain and Lancelot that they should everywhere
conceal his name, and that they should call him not Lord but
Comrade. They yielded him his will, and prayed to Our Lord that
he would guide and lead them to such a castle and such a hostel
as that they might be lodged honourably therein. They rode on
until evening drew nigh, and they found a right fair hold in the
forest, whereinto they entered and alighted. The damsel of the
hold came to meet them and made them right great cheer, then made
them be disarmed, afterward bringeth them right rich robes to
wear. She looketh at Lancelot and knoweth him again.

VIII.

"Sir," saith she, "You had once, on a day that is past, right
great pity of me, and saved me my honour, whereof am I in great
unhappiness. But better love I to suffer misease in honour, than
to have plenty and abundance in shame or reproach, for shame
endureth, but sorrow is soon overpassed."

Thereupon behold you the knight of the hold, whither he cometh
from shooting in the forest and maketh carry in full great plenty
venison of deer and wild boar. He alighted to greet the knights,
and began to laugh when he saw Lancelot.

"By my head," saith he, "I know you well For you disappointed me
of the thing I best loved in the world, and made me marry this
damsel that never yet had joy of me, nor never shall have."

"Faith, Sir," saith Lancelot, "You will do your pleasure therein,
for she is yours. Truth it is that I made you marry her, for you
were fain to do her a disgrace and a shame in such sort that her
kinsfolk would have had shame of her."

"By my head," saith the knight, "the damsel that I loved before
loveth you no better hereof, nay, rather, fain would she procure
your vexation and your hurt and your shame if she may, and great
power hath she in this forest."

"Sir," saith Lancelot, "I have sithence spoken to her and she to
me, and so hath she told me her will and her wish."

Thereupon the knight bade the knights take water, and the lady
taketh the basins and presenteth water to the knights.

"Avoid, damsel," saith the King, "Take it away! Never, please
God, shall it befall that we should accept such service from
you."

"By my head," saith the knight, "But so must you needs do, for
other than she shall not serve you to-night in this matter, or
otherwise shall you not eat with me this night there within."

IX.

Lancelot understandeth that the knight is not overburdened of
courtesy, and he seeth the table garnished of good meat, and
bethinketh him he will not do well to lose such ease, for misease
enough had they the night before. He maketh the King take water
of the lady, and the same service did she for all of them. The
knight biddeth them be seated. The King would have made the lady
sit beside him at the table, but the knight said that there she
should not sit. She goeth to sit among the squires as she was
wont to do. The knights are sorry enough thereof, but they durst
not gainsay the will of her lord. When they had eaten, the
knight said to Lancelot, "Now may you see what she hath gained of
me by your making me take her perforce, nor never, so help me
God, so long as I live shall she be honoured otherwise by me, for
so have I promised her that I love far more."

"Sir," saith Lancelot, "To my thinking you do ill herein and a
sin, and meseemeth you should have great blame thereof of them
that know it, and may your churlishness be your own, for nought
thereof take I to myself."

X.

Lancelot telleth the King and Messire Gawain that were he not
lodged in his hostel, and had him outside of the hold, he would
willingly have set the blood of his body on it but he would have
handled him in such sort as that the lady should be maintained in
greater honour, either by force or by prayer, in like manner as
he did when he made him marry her. They were right well lodged
the night and lay in the hold until the morrow, when they
departed thence, and rode right busily on their journeys until
they came into a very different land, scarce inhabited of any
folk, and found a little castle in a combe. They came
thitherward and saw that the enclosure of the castle was fallen
down into an abysm, so that none might approach it on that side,
but it had a right fair gateway and a door tall and wide whereby
one entered. They beheld a chapel that was right fair and rich,
and below was a great ancient hall. They saw a priest appear in
the midst of the castle, bald and old, that had come forth of the
chapel. They are come thither and alighted, and asked the priest
what the castle was, and he told them that it was the great
Tintagel.

"And how is this ground all caved in about the castle?"

"Sir," saith the priest, "I will tell you. Sir," saith he, "King
Uther Pendragon, that was father of King Arthur, held a great
court and summoned all his barons. The King of this castle that
then was here was named Gorlois. He went to the court and took
his wife with him, that was named Ygerne, and she was the fairest
dame in any kingdom. King Uther sought acquaintance of her for
her great beauty, and regarded her and honoured her more than all
the others of his court. King Gorlois departed thence and made
the Queen come back to this castle for the dread that he had of
King Uther Pendragon. King Uther was very wroth with him, and
commanded him to send back the Queen his wife. King Godois said
that he would not. Thereupon King Uther Pendragon defied him,
and then laid siege about this castle where the Queen was. King
Gorlois was gone to seek for succour. King Uther Pendragon had
Merlin with him of whom you have heard tell, that was so crafty.
He made him be changed into the semblance of King Gorlois, so
that he entered there within by Merlin's art and lay that night
with the Queen, and so begat King Arthur in a great hall that was
next to the enclosure there where this abysm is. And for this
sin hath the ground sunken in on this wise."

He cometh with them toward the chapel that was right fair, and
had a right rich sepulchre therein.

"Lords, in this sepulchre was placed the body of Merlin, but
never mought it be set inside the chapel, wherefore perforce it
remained outside. And know of a very truth that the body lieth
not within the sepulchre, for, so soon as it was set therein, it
was taken out and snatched away, either on God's behalf or the
Enemy's, but which we know not."

XI.

"Sir," saith King Arthur, "And what became of King Gorlois?"

"Sir." saith he, "The King slew him on the morrow of the night he
lay with his wife, and so forthwith espoused Queen Ygerne, and in
such manner as I tell you was King Arthur conceived in sin that
is now the best King in the world."

King Arthur hath heard this as concerning his birth that he knew
not, and is a little shamed thereof and confounded on account of
Messire Gawain and Lancelot. He himself marvelleth much thereof,
and much it misliketh him that the priest hath said so much. They
lay the night in the hold, and so departed thence on the morrow
when they had heard mass. Lancelot and Messire Gawain, that
thought they knew the forest, found the land so changed and
different that they knew not whither they were become, and such
an one as should come into the land that had been King
Fisherman's, and he should come again another time within forty
days, should not find the castle within a year.

XII.

Josephus telleth us that the semblances of the islands changed
themselves by reason of the divers adventures that by the
pleasure of God befell therein, and that the quest of adventures
would not have pleased the knights so well and they had not found
them so different. For, when they had entered into a forest or
an island where they had found any adventure, and they came there
another time, they found holds and castles and adventures of
another kind, so that their toils and travails might not weary
them, and also for that God would that the land should be
conformed to the New Law. And they were the knights that had
more toil and travail in seeking adventures than all the knights
of the world before them, and in holding to that whereof they had
made covenant; nor of no court of no king in the world went forth
so many good knights as went forth from the court of King Arthur,
and but that God loved them so much, never might they have
endured such toil and travail as they did from day to day; for
without fait, good knights were they, and good knights not only
to deal hard buffets, but rather in that they were loyal and
true, and had faith in the Saviour of the World and His sweet
Mother, and therefore dreaded shame and loved honour. King
Arthur goeth on his way and Messire Gawain and Lancelot with him,
and they pass through many strange countries, and so enter into a
great forest. Lancelot called to remembrance the knight that he
had slain in the Waste City whither behoved him to go, and knew
well that the day whereon he should come was drawing nigh. He
told King Arthur as much, and then said, that and he should go
not, he would belie his covenant. They rode until they came to a
cross where the ways forked.

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