Galahad

PERCEVAL RODE OUT INTO OPEN COUNTRY BUT MET no-one; then he passed back into the forest and rode on, his head bowed in thought. Suddenly a knight came thundering through the trees, lance lowered, as fast as his horse could go; and he struck Perceval as he passed and sent him crashing to the ground and seized his horse by the reins. Perceval leaped up swiftly and drew his sword, and began to race after the knight to recover his mount, distraught and furious at being felled. He gave chase right along a valley, not slowing for a moment; but the knight was riding away so fast that a thunderbolt wouldn't have caught him. Perceval lost sight of him and sat down beneath an oak, irate, downcast and troubled, and began to say to himself:

'This morning I unburdened myself of all my sins, wanting to mend my wrongful ways, and now I've lost my horse! I'm in a mess without a mount - I look a proper fool! I don't care what the priest said: I'd pursue that knight to the end of the earth to take revenge! But I'd have to find out his name first - I don't know who he is.'

Such was Perceval's lament as he leaned against the forest oak, sad, dejected and frustrated. While he sat there crestfallen, not knowing what to do, he saw a horse coming straight and swiftly towards him; it lacked neither saddle nor stirrups nor harness: it was a handsome horse indeed, and it galloped up to Perceval like lightning, whinnying and pounding its hooves. And it was as black as any berry. Perceval was roused from his troubled thoughts, and leaped up to catch it as soon as he saw it; the horse baulked and reared, but Perceval grabbed the reins and jumped into the saddle. He was jubilant, and delighted with his fine mount, and said he had had a great stroke of luck in finding this splendid, God-sent horse.

And so it was that he rode on until he found himself in the Waste Forest, where he chanced to meet a knight whose arms he didn't recognise; and taking him for an enemy he charged him and struck him so hard in the chest that he shattered his lance. The knight struck him back, and once again Perceval found himself unseated and crashing to the ground. His own lance being likewise shattered, the knight drew his sword and dealt Perceval such a blow that he split open his helmet and the hood of his mail-coat, and had the sword not turned in his hand he would surely have killed him. Perceval didn't know whether it was day or night.

This combat took place outside the hermitage of a recluse, and when she saw the victorious knight riding away she called out to him: 'Go, and may God be your guide! Truly, if this knight had known you as well as I, he wouldn't have been so bold as to attack you!'

The knight heard this and, seemingly alarmed at being recognised, dug in his spurs and galloped away with all the speed his horse could summon. Perceval remounted as fast as he could, but soon realised he would never catch him; and he turned back, utterly woebegone, and returned to the recluse, hoping to learn something about the knight who had escaped him.

When he arrived at the chapel he beat at the recluse's little window: she was wide awake and opened it at once, and leaned out and asked him who he was. He said he was a knight of King Arthur's court and his name was Perceval the Welshman. When she heard his name she was filled with joy, for she loved him dearly, and rightly so, for he was her nephew. She called to her household and bade them open the door to the knight outside and give him food if he needed and as much as they could, for he was the man she loved most in all the world. They did her bidding, and unbarred the door and admitted Perceval and disarmed him and served him food. He asked if he was allowed to talk to the recluse that evening, and they said:

'No, sir, not until tomorrow after mass.'

He accepted this, and lay down in a bed they prepared for him, and slept all night long, for he was quite exhausted.

When day broke next morning Perceval rose and heard mass, and once he was armed he came to the recluse and said: 'In God's name, lady, tell me about the knight who passed this way yesterday: you said you recognised him - I'm longing to know who he was.'

She asked Perceval why he was so keen to know, and he said: 'I'll never be at ease until I've found him and challenged him to combat. He's done me such dishonour that unless I can pay him back I'll be ashamed!'

'Ah, Perceval!' she said, 'what are you saying? You want to fight with him? Are you so eager to die like your brothers, whose high-handedness brought them to their deaths? Truly, if you die so, it'll be a grievous pity and a disgrace upon your line. And do you realise what you'll lose by fighting this knight? I'll tell you. The great Quest of the Holy Grail is under way, and you are one of its company, are you not? If it please God, it will soon be brought to its conclusion. And a much greater honour awaits you than you imagine, if only you refrain from doing battle with that knight. For we in this land and in many other places know that in the end there will be three supreme knights who, above all others, will achieve the glory and honour of the quest: two will be virgins and the third will be chaste. One of the two virgins will be the knight you seek and the other will be you, and the third will be Bors de Gaunes. By these three knights will the quest be accomplished. And since God has this honour in store for you, it would be a pity indeed if you sought your death in the meantime! And you'll be hastening it for sure if you fight with him, for he is without doubt a much finer knight than you or any man known.'

'From what you say about my brothers, lady,' said Perceval, 'it seems you know who I am.'

'Indeed I do, and so I should, for I'm your aunt and you're my nephew. Don't doubt it just because I'm living here in this poor place: I'm the woman known as the Queen of the Waste Land. Once you'd have seen me in a different state, for I was one of the richest ladies in the world, but that wealth never pleased me as does my present poverty.'

Perceval was moved to tears by her words, and he remembered her now and recognised her as his aunt. He sat down before her and asked her news of his family.

'What?' she said. 'Don't you know about your mother? She died the moment you rode off to Arthur's court. That very same day, as soon as she'd made confession, she died of grief that you'd left her.'

'I know,' said Perceval, 'and she's often appeared to me in my sleep and said she's more reason to rebuke me than to praise me, for I treated her so badly. God have mercy on my soul, for it grieves me deeply. But since it's happened I must bear it, and it's the fate that befalls us all. But tell me, in God's name, do you know who he is, the knight I'm seeking?'

'By my life I do,' she replied. 'Let me explain. You know, don't you, that since the coming of Christ there have been three great tables in the world. The first was the table of Christ Himself, where the apostles ate together many times. At that table souls and bodies were sustained by the bread of Heaven, and the brothers who sat there were united in heart and soul. That table was established by the spotless Lamb who was sacrificed for our redemption. After it, another table was made in its likeness and in its memory: the table of the Holy Grail, which in the days of Joseph of Arimathea, when Christianity was first brought to this land, saw such great miracles as should be remembered forever by the godly and the godless alike. And after that came the Round Table, established by Merlin - and with great significance, for in its name should be understood the roundness of the world and the circular motions of the planets and the stars in the firmament. The Round Table represents the world indeed, for to it come knights from every land where chivalry is known. And when God grants them such grace that they become companions of that fellowship, they count themselves more blessed than if they'd gained the whole world, and forsake mothers, fathers, wives and children for its sake. You've seen this in your own case, for ever since you left your mother and were made a companion of the Round Table you've had no desire to return, captivated as you were by the closeness and fraternal love that unites that brotherhood.

'When Merlin established the Round Table, he declared that its companions would come to know the truth about the Holy Grail, entirely hidden in his own time. "Three knights", he said, "will achieve the quest, two of them virgins and the third chaste. One of the three will surpass his father as the lion surpasses the leopard in strength and courage, and will be master and shepherd of all the others, who'll go mad with frustration in their search for the Grail until Our Lord with wondrous suddenness sends him among them". Hearing this, King Arthur's court said: "Well then, Merlin, if he's as great as you say, you should make a special seat where none should sit except he, so much bigger than the rest that everyone will recognise it". "I shall", Merlin said, and he made a seat of surpassing size and magnificence, and kissed it - out of love, he said, for the Good Knight who would sit there; and he told them: "This seat will give rise to many wonders, for any man who sits therein will be killed or maimed until the True Knight comes to take his place; and for this reason it shall be called the Perilous Seat".

'Now I've told you, dear nephew,' said the noble recluse, 'why the Round Table was created, and the Perilous Seat, too, where many knights unworthy to sit therein have perished. Listen now: it was on the day of Pentecost, when all the companions of the Round Table were gathered with their lord King Arthur, but with the Perilous Seat left empty, that an astonishing thing occurred: just after the first course had been served, all the doors and windows closed by themselves - no-one had so much as touched them; and while they all sat amazed an aged man of most noble bearing appeared, dressed in a white robe - but nobody had seen him enter. And he was holding by the hand a knight in red armour, and he said to the king: "King Arthur, I bring you the Desired Knight, born of the high lineage of King David and of Joseph of Arimathea, through whom the enchantments besetting this and other lands will be cast out. Behold him here".

'"If this is the one we've awaited", said the king, "who'll bring to an end the adventures of the Holy Grail, we'll give him a more joyful welcome than any man has ever known!" And with that the old man led the knight straight to the Perilous Seat beside Lancelot, and raising a silken sheet that had been lain across it he uncovered letters, freshly engraved, and read them aloud so that all could hear: "This seat is Galahad's". And turning to the knight he said: "Sit here, sir, for this place is yours". And the knight sat down in the Perilous Seat - unharmed.

'When the people in the hall saw the knight seated in the dread place where so many terrible wonders had occurred, they were astounded; and seeing he was so young a man they couldn't think how he could be granted such grace unless it were by the will of Our Lord. A boy ran with the news to the queen, saying: "My lady, great wonders have occurred in the hall!" And when she asked him what he meant, he replied: "A knight has overcome the trial of the Perilous Seat!" And all the queen's ladies said: "Ah, God! This is a sign that he's the one who'll bring to an end the adventures of Britain and heal the Maimed King!"

'You know, don't you, nephew, that it was on the day of Pentecost that the apostles were all gathered behind closed doors, and the Holy Spirit descended among them as a flame of fire? And it was on the day of Pentecost that Our Lord came to comfort them. In just such a guise came the knight who is to be your comfort, your master and your shepherd. Just as Our Lord came in the likeness of fire, so did the knight come in arms of fiery red. And just as the doors of the apostles' house were closed at the coming of Our Lord, so were the doors of the palace shut when the knight appeared. Now you know why I say you should never fight him: you're brothers together in the company of the Round Table - and you wouldn't survive against him, for he's a much finer knight than you.'

'Lady, dear aunt,' said Perceval, 'you've said enough to make me never want to do combat with him. But in God's name tell me where I may find him, for if I could share his company I'd never want to leave his side.'

'Go from here to the castle called Gort,' she replied, 'for he has a cousin there with whom he'll doubtless have taken lodging tonight. If she's willing to tell you which way he went, follow his path as fast as you can. If she can't say, go straight to the castle of Corbenic, where the Maimed King lies, and even if you don't find him there you're sure to have reliable news.'

Perceval could not wait to leave, and said: 'Lady, so many things are pressing me that I can't bring myself to stay! I beg you, let me go at once.'

She could not persuade him to stay that night, and Perceval set off into the forest, so vast it was a wonder, and evening was already setting in.

And it was then that the black horse, which he had been so pleased to chance upon, suddenly surged forward with awesome speed and noise, destroying everything in its path, uprooting trees and smashing branches, until it came to a cliff fully six hundred feet in height. It galloped right to the very brink, and Perceval, awe-struck, saw a river below, so deep that no stone could plumb its depths, and the horse was about to fling itself in to bring Perceval to his death. Perceval realised he had been deceived, and in fear of the Devil he did as God had instructed him and raised his hand and made the sign of the Cross. The horse abhorred the sign he had made and reared up on its hind legs to hurl Perceval into the river and drown him; but it flung him only flat on the ground behind, and launched itself from the cliff and plummeted, spinning, down into the river. If a tower had been demolished and cast down in a heap it would not have made such a thunderous din as the horse hitting the water. Perceval was deeply shocked, realising it was a demon that had borne him there; and he blessed himself with the sign of the True Cross more than a hundred times.

He clambered down the mighty cliff and finally reached the riverbank; but then he was even more dismayed, for he found the river was perilous indeed, impossible to cross without a boat: he had not seen a grimmer ford since the day he was born. And on the other side loomed a rock so high that the whole world could be surveyed from the top. He didn't know what to do or which way to turn. Even were he to swim the river there would be no way to climb the rock, for he could see it was sheer indeed. So he stayed where he was until night came.

It brought him no pleasure or comfort. Rain fell, thick and fast, in a torrent. And from a cloud he saw a whirlwind with three heads appear, and they were huge and hideous, all hurling scorching fire; and each head's mouth had a demon's tongue and the teeth and face of a leopard. Perceval averted his eyes and made the sign of the Cross, and the demon swept away, setting all the forest and mountain ablaze; Perceval was filled with fear and again blessed himself with God's sign. Then suddenly he saw a boat covered in black samite; and a girl was leaning at its side, by all appearances deeply vexed at having been at sea so long. The boat sped swiftly to where Perceval was sitting on the bank, downcast and perturbed; and as it reached the shore the rain ceased and the whirlwind disappeared, and the girl stepped gently and elegantly from the boat.

When Perceval saw her approach he went eagerly to greet her. And the girl said: 'Perceval, my dear, I've come here from a distant land to find you! But it seems you don't recognise me!'

'By the faith I owe God,' replied Perceval, 'I don't remember ever meeting you.'

Then she came and took him by the hand and said: 'You've never seen me before, Perceval? Look closely.'

And Perceval looked at her body and her face, and was sure it was his sweetheart Blancheflor; and he said: 'Well met indeed, lady! How did you get here? I've never been so pleased to see anyone!'

Then he took hold of her at once and embraced her - it wasn't just a courteous kiss! And she bade her retinue pitch a rich and splendid pavilion for them; and they spread a sumptuous quilt in the middle of the tent, and beside it a table laden with the most delectable dishes imaginable. When they had stripped him of his arms Perceval sat down to dine. But there was no grace said by any prior, no blessing or genuflexion by any clerk. When they had eaten their fill, the lady and Perceval spoke together; he said to her:

'Sweetheart, tell me, in the name of love, what are you seeking in such a strange and distant land?'

'You!' she said. 'I need your help most urgently, for a wicked knight named Arides of Escavalon is striving with all his might to do me harm: he's destroying and laying waste my land, and says that you're lost, or have become a monk or friar, and he wants to take me as his wife. But I wouldn't marry him for all the money in the world, nor wrong you in any way; for my life is devoted to being your wife.'

'My love,' said Perceval, 'mountains, rocks and valleys won't save him from death at my hands if I can find him! I'll never fail you all the days of my life - I swear it.'

The lady thanked him, feigning deep affection. And when it was time to sleep she said: 'My love, you may go to bed whenever you like, and lie with me if you wish - I dearly desire it!'

Perceval said he would do just as she wished. The young lady lay down on the rich bed, and Perceval lay beside her; and it pleased him greatly, for he had not seen her for a long time. He felt her naked body. She wanted him to lie with her and to do all he pleased: she was far from coy or reticent. Then Perceval looked up and saw his cruciform sword, and seeing the shape of the Cross he crossed himself, and thus thwarted the demon in the bed - for it was the Devil indeed, you may be sure, who in the semblance of Blancheflor wanted to lure him into sin. When Perceval made the sign of the Cross by God's miraculous inspiration, the Devil leaped up instantly and swept away the pavilion and the bed. Perceval was left all alone, shocked and anguished; and he stretched his hands heavenward and cried:

'Dear Lord who became a mortal man, thank you for your protection here! It was the very same Devil who tried to drown me!'

Then he put on his clothes and shoes and hurriedly armed. And he looked towards the water where the boat had been, but could see no sign of it: there was nothing to be seen in any direction. Then the moon began to shine, which comforted and cheered him, and he spotted the boat sailing down the river and back out to sea the way it had come; and a mighty storm blew up, with thunder, rain and lightning, and rocks fell from the clouds in an endless hail around the boat. For as long as he could see the boat the thunder, rain and lightning fell, but as soon as it was lost to view the storm abated. Perceval rejoiced at this, but he was deeply disturbed by what he had seen.

'Lord God,' he said, 'have mercy and deliver me from this place with my body and soul secure, and I promise I'll strive henceforth to earn your love.'

And there on the shore Perceval sighed and grieved until daybreak, imploring the sovereign father God to cast His divine power over him.

While he was thus immersed in prayer he saw a boat coming with a white sail unfurled; it had no rudder or oars to guide it, but it was surrounded by an air of the utmost joy. It was richly adorned with drapes; but there was no-one aboard except one old man. As the boat touched shore this worthy man, who was well aware of Perceval's plight, stepped out and greeted him in the name of the high master, saying:

'Dear friend, the Lord of the Trinity, who guides sinners back to the right path, has sent me here to comfort and console you: I've no desire to cause you pain, for you've suffered much already. I bring you comfort from Him. You need have no fear or doubt, for Jesus Christ the Saviour, who created Heaven and Earth, has sent me here to find you. Come aboard with me, and have no fear about anything you've seen.'

'Wait a moment, please, dear sir, and tell me first about the black horse that bore me here; and about the young lady who made me lie beside her beneath this cliff, naked, skin to skin.'

The white-haired man replied: 'I promise you, the horse that brought you here last night was the Devil, who longed to plunge you into Hell where his fellows are. I tell you, friend, when you vanquished the Black Hand at the chapel, and then confessed your sins to the priest and assumed penance and repentance, the Devil was deeply vexed at having lost you; and he returned to get you, and saw to it that you lost your horse in the valley in the forest, to make you despair. He then made you mount him, didn't he, in the shape of a fine black horse? And he'd have made you pay dearly, for he'd have drowned you here if God hadn't taken pity on you by having you make the sign of the Cross to work your deliverance. And when he failed to drown you, the horse leaped into the water, baffled and defeated, for he had no force or power left over you: he nearly went mad with grief. But he sent another demon here in the shape of a girl, and the demon told you she was your sweetheart Blancheflor whom you left at Beaurepaire. She lied; she was the Devil, who wanted to drag you down to the shadows of Hell.'

'Truly,' said Perceval, 'I know his ruse would have worked on me if I hadn't blessed myself with the sign of the Cross. That saved me from the Devil, and I saw him sailing away in thunder across the sea, back to where he came from. I was left here; and now I'll go with you wherever you like: it's only right I should when you say you're sent from God.'

'Don't dally, friend,' said the worthy man, 'for you'll be under God's protection for as long as I'm your escort. I'll guide you happily, I promise you, to the road you'll want to take.'

With that they boarded the boat, and the wind filled the sail and bore them away so swiftly that they seemed to be flying over the waves. Perceval looked around the deck but could see nothing clearly because the night was very dark. He went and leaned at the ship's side, and prayed to Christ to guide him to a place where his soul would be safe. And after making this prayer, he fell fast asleep until morning.

When he awoke he looked across the deck and saw a knight, sitting, fully armed; and after a moment this knight recognised him as Perceval the Welshman, and ran and embraced him joyfully. Perceval was taken aback, unaware till now that this other knight had been aboard, and he asked him who he was.

'What?' said the knight. 'Don't you recognise me?'

'Not at all,' said Perceval, 'and I didn't know you were here.'

At this the knight smiled, and took off his helmet. Then Perceval recognised him: it was Bors de Gaunes, the knight of whom the recluse had spoken; he had seen him each time he had been to Arthur's court, and it would be hard to describe the joy with which they greeted each other now. Bors began to tell him how he had come to board the ship, and Perceval for his part told Bors the adventures that had befallen him by the river where the Enemy had appeared to him in the shape of a woman and enticed him to the brink of mortal sin.

And so it was that these two companions were united as Our Lord had planned, awaiting the next adventures He chose to send them. And meanwhile they sailed hither and thither across the sea just as the wind took them, and Perceval said that the only thing lacking for the recluse's promise to be fulfilled was the presence of the third knight, Galahad.

They were just coming into shore when Bors caught sight of a knight in red arms riding down to the water's edge accompanied by a maiden, and he hailed him from afar, crying: 'Welcome, Sir Galahad! We've waited for you so long, and now you've come to us, thanks be to God! Come aboard at once, for nothing remains but to pursue the high adventure that God has prepared for us!'

The knight in red asked the maiden if she would dismount.

'Yes, sir,' she replied. 'But leave your horse here, as I shall mine.'

He dismounted at once and unharnessed both his horse and the maiden's palfrey. Then he made the sign of the Cross on his forehead and, commending himself to Our Lord, he boarded the ship and the maiden followed after. Bors greeted them with the utmost joy, and explained to Perceval that this was the son of the great Sir Lancelot. Then a mighty wind struck up and in an instant the ship was skimming across the sea once more, and before they knew it there was no land to be seen, either near or far.

Bors had removed his helmet and Galahad now did likewise, together with his sword; but he would not lay aside his hauberk. Seeing how beautiful the ship was, both within and without, he asked the two companions where such a handsome vessel had come from. Bors said he had no idea, but Perceval recounted as much as he knew, telling him about his adventure by the river, and how the priest had bidden him come aboard. Galahad said it was a strange place for them all to meet, and they laughed; and then Bors said to Galahad: 'If only your father Sir Lancelot were here it would be perfect!'

But Galahad replied that that was impossible, for it was not Our Lord's will.

They spoke together of their adventures until the middle of the afternoon, and Perceval asked Galahad's pardon for their encounter in the forest outside the recluse's cell. Soon they were far from the kingdom of Logres, for the ship had been travelling under full sail all night and all day. Then they passed between two rocks and came upon a wild island hidden away in a secret cove. And as they sailed in they caught sight of another ship moored behind a rock which they could only reach on foot.

'Good sirs,' said the maiden, 'aboard that ship is the adventure for which Our Lord has brought the three of you together. You must disembark and board that other craft.'

They willingly agreed, and jumped ashore and helped the maiden from the boat before mooring it to prevent the tide carrying it away. Then they clambered over the rocks, one after the other, and made their way to the other ship. They found it to be even finer than the first, and were amazed to see neither man nor woman aboard. They went closer to see what they could find, and as they looked at the ship's side they saw letters inscribed in Chaldean, spelling out a grim warning to any who thought to go aboard. This is what it said:

'Hear you, man who would board me: whoever you may be, take care that you be full of faith, for faith is precisely what I am. So be sure, before you step aboard, that you be stainless, for I am faith and true belief, and as soon as you abandon your belief I shall abandon you entirely: you will have neither aid nor support from me; I shall fail you utterly, no matter how small your failing.'

The three knights looked at each other in amazement. Then the maiden said to Perceval: 'Do you know who I am?'

'No indeed,' he replied, 'I don't think I've ever met you before.'

'I'm your sister,' she said, 'and do you know why I've made myself known to you? So that you'll trust my words the more when I tell you - the dearest person in the world to me - that, if your belief in Christ is not total, you shouldn't think of setting foot in this ship, for you would perish instantly. This vessel is such a precious thing that anyone boarding it stained with vice is in the gravest peril.'

Perceval looked more closely and realised that it was indeed his sister; he was overjoyed and said: 'Truly, dear sister, I shall board this ship, and do you know why? So that, if I prove to be an unbeliever, I may die a traitor's death, and if I am full of faith as a knight should be, I may be saved.'

'Then step aboard,' she said, 'with confidence, and may Our Lord be your guard and defence.'

Hearing this, Galahad, who was closest to the ship, raised his hand and crossed himself and stepped aboard. The others followed without delay and, looking up and down the ship, they declared that no vessel on land or sea could compare to it for perfect beauty. Then, right in the middle of the deck, they saw a sumptuous cloth spread like a canopy over a broad and beautiful bed. Galahad stepped forward and lifted it and looked beneath; and at the head of this splendid bed, the most beautiful he had ever seen, lay a magnificent golden crown, and at its foot lay a sword, shining, glorious, with several inches of its blade drawn from the scabbard. It was truly an exceptional sword; for its pommel was a stone containing every colour to be found on earth, and each colour possessed a special virtue; and its hilt was composed of two ribs, each from a very rare beast. The first was from a kind of serpent, found mostly in Caledonia, called the papalust, whose special quality is that if a man holds any of its ribs or bones he is protected from all heat; and the second rib came from a fish living only in the Euphrates river called the ortenax, and if any man holds one of that fish's ribs he has no thought of joy or sorrow: his whole mind is fixed unswervingly on the purpose for which he took it up. Such were the properties of the ribs which formed the hilt, and they were covered in a rich red fabric embroidered all over with letters saying:

I am a wonder to behold and to comprehend. For no man can or ever will take hold of me save one, and he will surpass in chivalry all who ever were before him or will ever follow after.

So said the letters on the hilt; and the knights looked at each other and said: 'Truly, there are wonders on this ship.'

'In God's name,' said Perceval, 'I'm going to see if I can hold this sword.' And he laid his hand upon it, but could not clasp the hilt. 'By my life,' he said, 'I do believe the inscription's true!'

Bors in his turn tried his hand, but to no avail; and they said to Galahad: 'Sir, try to take the sword. Since we two have failed, it's clear that success will fall to you.'

But he refused, saying: 'These are the greatest wonders I've ever seen.' Then he looked at the blade, partially drawn as it was from the scabbard, and saw other letters inscribed upon it, red as blood, saying:

None should be so bold as to draw me from this sheath, unless he be more able and more daring than any other, for if he draws me otherwise he will be killed or maimed without a doubt.

'By my life,' said Galahad, 'I wanted to draw this sword, but the warning's so dire I'll not touch it.'

Perceval and Bors agreed, and Perceval's sister said: 'Good sirs, the drawing of the sword is forbidden to all men but one. Let me explain: this ship landed in the kingdom of Logres at a time when deadly war was being waged between King Lambar, a good and noble Christian, and King Varlan, who'd been an infidel all his life. The armies of Lambar and Varlan clashed on the shore where the ship had landed, and Varlan was on the point of defeat, his men being slaughtered. In fear of death, the infidel Varlan leaped aboard this ship; but when he found this sword he drew it and strode back ashore; he searched out King Lambar, the man in all Christendom with the most ardent faith and belief in Christ, and raised his sword and dealt him such a mighty blow upon the helm that he clove both him and his horse in two. This was the first blow struck with this sword in the land of Logres, and it loosed such a plague of miseries upon both their kingdoms that the earth would yield nothing to the farmer: no corn or any other crop would grow, no tree bore fruit, and hardly a fish was to be found in any river. The two kingdoms together came to be called the Waste Land, laid waste as it was by this dreadful blow.

'When King Varlan saw the keenness of the sword he decided to return for the scabbard. He came back to the ship and sheathed the sword; and the moment he did so he fell dead beside this bed, proving that any who drew it would be killed or maimed. The king's body remained here until a maiden cast it overboard, for there was no man bold enough to board the ship because of the dire warning written on her side.'

'Truly,' said Galahad, 'that's an amazing story, and I can well believe it, for I don't doubt that this is a more wonderful sword than any other.'

And with that he stepped forward to draw it.

'Ah, Galahad!' Perceval's sister cried. 'Wait a little longer! We've yet to examine its wonders fully!'

He drew back at once, and they began to study the scabbard. It seemed to be made of nothing other than a serpent's skin, yet it was red as a rose petal, and there were letters inscribed upon it, some gold and some blue. But they were most amazed of all when they noticed the belt; for it was surely not befitting such a magnificent sword: it was made of coarse, cheap material, rough hempen tow, and looked so feeble that they were sure it couldn't take the weight of the sword for an hour without breaking. And the letters on the scabbard said:

The man who carries me will perform greater deeds than any other and will be beyond all danger, so long as he is as clean of sin as he ought to be. I must not be taken into any place where there is uncleanness or sin; if I am, the bearer will be the first to repent. But if he keep me cleanly he may go where he will without any fear, for the man at whose side I shall hang by this belt can suffer no bodily harm. But no man should dare to remove this belt: no man present or future has the right; it may be unfastened only by the hand of a woman, who shall replace it with another, made from the thing she values most, and this woman must be a virgin all the days of her life, both in deed and in desire. Should she have lost her virginity, she may be sure she will die the basest death that any woman can.

When they had read the inscription they began to laugh in astonishment, and declared that what they had seen and heard was truly a wonder. Then Galahad said: 'I think we should go and look for the maiden who's to replace this belt; unless we do, we shouldn't take this sword from here.'

They said they had no idea where to find her, but nonetheless would take up the search, since there was no alternative; and when Perceval's sister heard their troubled words she said: 'Don't be alarmed, sirs, for before we leave here the new belt will be set in place - and it will be fittingly beautiful.'

And so saying, she opened a casket she was holding and brought forth a belt magnificently woven of silk and threads of gold and strands of hair - hair so fair and shining that it could hardly be distinguished from the gold; and it was studded with precious stones, and fastened with two golden buckles of incomparable splendour.

'Here, sirs,' she said, 'is the belt it should bear, made with what I cherished most: my hair. And it's no wonder that I cherished it, for on the day of Pentecost when you, sir,' she said to Galahad, 'were made a knight, I had the most beautiful head of hair of any woman in the world. But as soon as I learned that this adventure was in store for me and that I had to fulfil it, I had my hair cut and made into the braids you see here.'

'God bless you for it!' said Bors. 'You've saved us much hardship!'

And with that she stepped up to the sword, removed the belt of hemp, and fastened the other with such skill and ease that it seemed she had done it every day of her life. Then she said to the companions: 'Do you know the name of this sword?'

'No indeed,' they replied.

'Then know,' she said, 'that it is called the Sword of the Strange Belt.'

'Sir,' they said to Galahad, 'we pray you, in the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ and for the greater glory of all knighthood, gird on this Sword of the Strange Belt, as long desired by the kingdom of Logres as the return of Our Lord was desired by the apostles.'

For they were certain that by that sword the perilous adventures which they daily encountered, and the awesome wonders surrounding the Holy Grail, would be brought to an end.

'Let me first be sure,' said Galahad, 'that I've a right to it, for it'll be a certain sign that I haven't if I cannot clasp the hilt.'

They agreed that that was true; and he took hold of the hilt; and his fingers safely and perfectly encompassed it. Seeing this, the companions said: 'Now we know, sir, that it belongs to you. No-one can deny your right to gird it on.'

And Galahad drew it from its scabbard; and it was so beautiful, so burnished, that he saw his face reflected in the blade, and he prized it more highly than anything could be prized in all the world. Then he slid it back into the scabbard, and Perceval's sister unfastened the sword he had been wearing and, with the belt of silk and hair and gold, fastened this other in its place. And when she had hung it at his side she said:

'Truly, sir, now I don't care when I die, for I consider myself the most blessed of all maidens, having made a knight of the worthiest man in this earthly world. For know this: you were not by rights a knight until you were endowed with the sword which was brought to this land for you alone.'

'Damsel,' Galahad replied, 'for the great boon you have done me I am your knight for evermore. And I thank you deeply for all you've told us.'

'Now we can leave this ship,' she said, 'and return to our own.'

And with that they clambered from the ship and on to the rocks, where Perceval said to Galahad: 'There'll never be a day when I fail to thank Our Lord that I was present at the completion of such a high adventure as this: it's the most wonderful I've ever seen. But there's another mortal blow I've heard of, struck by another sword, that I have vowed to avenge. Until I've done so I cannot stay with you. I pray our paths may cross again soon.'

Galahad and Bors embraced him, wishing the same reunion, and returned to their ship and boarded; and Perceval watched the wind fill their sail and the ship glide swiftly from the shore. Then he set off across country, praying to God to guide him to where he might find Partinial the Wild, the Lord of the Red Tower, and do battle with him as he had promised the Fisher King.

He had gone but a short way from the sea when he caught sight of a castle crowned by five rich and handsome turrets. It stood beside a river surrounded by fields and woods and meadows: it wanted for nothing. Nor did it need fear attack, for the most earnest assault could not have harmed it: it was so well-placed and strong, enclosed by walls and palisades, that it feared no siege-engines or mangonels or storming. The people of the castle lived pleasantly indeed, for their lord kept and guarded them so well that they had no neighbours who could threaten them. Nor was there anyone who did not hate them, for their lord was more wicked, cruel and ruthless than any man alive. Of the castle's five turrets the one at the centre was the tallest of all, and stood proudly and handsomely indeed, quite wondrously so; and it was redder and brighter than the finest gold. The moment that Perceval beheld it he said:

'That will be the Red Tower; it must be, by my life. There, surely, dwells the one who's caused so much pain for the king who guards the Holy Grail.'

And he drove in his spurs and galloped up to the gate. Two green and lustrous pines were planted outside. On one hung a rich and handsome shield, of silver emblazoned with two elegant maidens painted in blue. Perceval stared at it fixedly, and realised that it was the shield of the one who had caused the Fisher King so much pain and anguish. He longed to know why it had been hung there; and just as he was thinking this a boy came through the gate, and Perceval called to him at once and said:

'Don't keep it from me, friend: what's this castle called? Who is its lord?' 'It's called the Red Tower, sir, and the lord's name is Partinial. He's so fearsome in battle that no knight who comes this way and takes down his shield can survive against him. He's killed 104 worthy knights of renown since he received his arms. As soon as anyone lays a finger on that shield his time is up, his life is over!'

'Indeed?' said Perceval to himself. 'He's a cruel and treacherous knight indeed if he'll kill a man for so little cause.'

And he rode forward and took down the shield, and swinging it by the strap he battered it against the pine until he smashed it to pieces. At that, with all the breath he could summon the boy blew a horn he had hanging at his neck. Partinial heard it and was filled with joy. Sure that someone had come and taken his shield he armed immediately, leaped on to his charger, took an oak-wood lance, gave his mount free rein and rode straight out through the gate. He was carrying no shield, for he expected to use the one that had been hung upon the pine. He nearly died of anguish when he saw it smashed upon the ground, and he charged towards Perceval, crying:

'Vassal! Vassal! You've got a shock in store for you today! You never saw such a precious shield, and you'll be sorry you took it, for it'll cost you your honour and your head!'

When Perceval heard these threats he set his lance in its rest and thrust his sharp steel spurs into his horse's flanks, and they charged at each other as fast as their mounts could go and struck one another with all their might. Partinial struck Perceval upon his shield and smashed right through it; and Perceval, determined to joust well, thrust six feet of his lance's shaft straight through Partinial's shoulder. Both knights came crashing to the ground.

Partinial was in grave trouble with the deep wound he had been dealt; but he was undismayed, and leaped to his feet with his sword drawn; and Perceval likewise jumped up again, ready and eager to defend himself. It was the bitterest combat ever seen. They were both masterly and well-tried in battle, and with their slashing swords, drawing blood with every blow, they dealt each other many fearsome cuts and wounds. Partinial clutched his sword with both hands and gave a fine account of himself - anyone who saw him would have surely said that no finer knight had ever lived. But such was Perceval's response that all the people of the castle declared they had never seen his equal.

The battle lasted from six till noon. They exchanged countless cuts and blows with their steel blades, until neither knight had shield, helmet or mail-hood left to protect him. They were both in grave difficulty, each in turn forced to his knees or full-length on the ground. Neither man would shrink at all, but one had to be the victor; and that victor, through the power of the King of glory, was Perceval. With a final mighty blow he brought Partinial to the ground beneath him, and cried that the battle was over and that he must declare himself his prisoner. But the one who did not believe in God said that he would never descend to yielding himself captive to any knight, and that Perceval need not think he would ever plead for mercy.

'In that case,' said Perceval, 'if I don't kill you, may God never forgive me.'

And he threatened him with instant death if he refused to submit to imprisonment. But Partinial replied: 'I'll never yield as long as I live. If you want to kill me, do it here and now.'

'Then kill you I will, by my life,' said Perceval, 'but it grieves me.'

And he struck him such a blow that he severed the head clean from the body. He left the body there in the grassy field; but he took the head and hung it from his saddle-bow, saying that he would take it to the Fisher King who had done him so much honour. He mounted at once, and set off without delay, leaving Partinial's headless body outside the gate.

He headed towards the house of the Fisher King, calm now and untroubled; but he did not know how he would find it or ever get there. He rode on, day by day, until one morning, emerging from a vast and bewildering forest, he saw Galahad and Bors crossing the path ahead of him. There is no need to ask if they were pleased at the meeting! They greeted each other with jubilation, and they asked how he had fared, and Perceval showed them Partinial's head and told them the story of how he had avenged the Fisher King.

'And have you returned to his castle? Have you found what we're seeking?'

'No indeed,' he replied, 'but I feel in my heart we shall not part again until we've completed this quest.'

'God grant that it be so,' said Galahad.

And so chance had reunited the three companions; and they rode on for a

Long while until finally, one day, they came to the castle of Corbenic. And when they had been admitted and the Fisher King recognised them, the rejoicing was great beyond imagining, for everyone knew that their arrival would bring an end to the adventures which had so long beset the castle. The news spread high and low until all the people of the castle came running to see them; and Perceval presented Partinial's severed head to the king, holding it on high and declaring, so that all could hear, that it was the head of the one who had caused the Fisher King such distress. The king looked at the head and recognised it at once; and he took Perceval in his arms with the utmost joy and kissed him more than ten times and said:

'You've brought me the greatest comfort by taking revenge upon this man who was my enemy and had plunged me into misery. Now, by God the Creator, all my sorrow and pain are turned to happiness. I shall fix this severed head upon a stake, in honour and remembrance of the one who took revenge upon the treacherous killer of my brother.'

He bade that a stake be fixed at the top of the castle keep and that the head be stuck upon it, and his bidding was done at once. Then they disarmed Perceval, Bors and Galahad, and every man and woman there rejoiced to a degree unprecedented. The king called for the tables to be made ready, and the servants spread the cloths immediately and set the knives and salt-bowls. When all had washed they took their seats, Perceval sitting beside the king. And thereupon the lance and the Grail appeared, carried by two girls most elegantly; and as they passed before the tables they were spread and arrayed with the most delectable dishes.

And then, when the hour of vespers came, the sky turned dark and a strange and mighty wind struck up and wailed throughout the palace, blasting with such a furious heat that many thought they would be burnt and others collapsed in terror. At that moment they heard a voice, crying:

'All who are not to sit at the table of Christ must go at once, for the time has come for the true knights to be fed with the food of Heaven.'

Thereupon they all departed, leaving the three companions with the king to see what Our Lord would reveal to them. A moment later they saw, coming in through the door, nine armed knights, who took off their helmets and came to Galahad and bowed to him and said: 'Sir, we have made great haste to join you here at the table where the high food of Heaven is to be bestowed.'

He replied that they had made good time, for he and his companions had only just arrived. And so they all sat down together in the middle of the hall, and Galahad asked them where they were from. Three said they were from Gaul, and three from Ireland and three from Denmark.

And at that moment they saw - descending from Heaven, so it seemed - a man in a bishop's raiment, with a crozier in his hand and a mitre on his head, borne on a magnificent throne by four angels; and they seated him at the table on which stood the Holy Grail. His forehead was marked with letters which said:

'Behold Josephus, the first Christian bishop, consecrated by Our Lord at the spiritual palace in the city of Sarras.'

When the knights read this they were filled with wonder, for this Josephus had passed away many years before. Then he spoke to them, saying: 'Ah! knights of God, servants of Christ, do not be amazed at seeing me before you with the holy vessel; for the same service that I performed on earth I still perform in heaven.'

And so saying, he drew close to the silver table and went down on hands and knees. After a long pause he suddenly heard the chamber door fly open; he and all the others looked round and saw the angels who had borne him there processing into the room. Two were carrying candles, the third a cloth of red samite, and the fourth a lance which bled so copiously that the drops were falling into a casket he was holding in his other hand. The two placed the candles on the table, the third laid the towel beside the holy vessel, and the fourth held the lance directly above the vessel so that it could gather the blood that trickled down the shaft. As soon as they had done this, Josephus rose and lifted the lance a little higher and covered the vessel with the cloth.

Then he acted as if he were about to consecrate the mass. After composing himself for a moment, he took from the holy vessel a communion host in the form of bread; and as he raised it on high there descended from above a figure in the shape of a child, his face as radiant and glowing as any fire; and he entered into the bread, so that all those present in the hall distinctly saw the bread assume the substance of human flesh. After holding it aloft for a long moment, Josephus placed it back in the holy vessel.

Having performed the function of a priest at the mass, he came up to Galahad and kissed him and bade him in turn kiss his companions. Then he said to them: 'Servants of Christ, who have toiled and suffered so much to behold the wonders of the Holy Grail, be seated now at this table, and you shall be fed with the most sublime and perfect food that ever passed a knight's lips, and by Your Saviour's own hand. You will know that your labours have been worthwhile, for today you'll receive the highest reward ever bestowed upon any knight.'

At that very instant Josephus vanished; they had no idea what had become of him. They sat down at the table in trepidation, their faces wet with tears. And then, as they looked towards the Grail, they saw rising from the vessel a man, quite naked, bleeding from his hands and his feet and his side; and he said to them:

'My knights, my servants, my loyal sons, who have attained the life of the spirit while still in the flesh, and who have sought me so long that I can hide myself from you no longer, it is only right that you should see some of my mysteries and my secrets, for now you have done enough to earn a seat at my table, where no knight has eaten since the days of Joseph of Arimathea. The knights of this castle and many others have been fed with the grace of the holy vessel, but never as intimately as the three of you shall be now. So come and receive the glorious food that you have so long desired and for which you have suffered so much.'

With that He took the holy vessel in His hands and came to Galahad, who went down on his knees; and He gave him his Saviour. And Galahad, his hands clasped in homage, received the host with joy, as did Bors, Perceval and the other nine knights; and to each and all it seemed that the host placed in his mouth was a piece of bread. When they had all received this food sublime, so wonderfully sweet that it seemed their bodies now contained all the sweetness the heart could ever crave, the One who had fed them said to Galahad:

'Son as clean and undefiled as earthly man can be, do you know what this vessel is that I am holding in my hands?'

'No,' he replied, 'unless you tell me.'

'It is the dish,' He said, 'in which Jesus Christ made the sacrament at the Last Supper. This is the dish which has served and gladdened the hearts of all those faithful to me. This is the dish whose sight has been a torture to the wicked. And because it has given such sublime delight to those it has served, it is rightly called the Holy Grail*. Now you have beheld what you have desired and yearned so long to see.

'But you have not yet seen it as openly as you one day will. Do you know where that will be? In the city of Sarras, in the spiritual palace; that is why you must go from here and accompany this holy vessel, which is to leave the kingdom of Logres tonight, so that neither the Grail nor its attendant wonders will ever be seen here again. It is leaving, because the people of this land pay it neither due honour nor due service. They have turned to base and worldly ways, even though they have been nourished with the grace bestowed by this holy vessel. Because they have repaid this honour so dismally I am now divesting them of it. So I want you to go in the morning down to the sea, where you'll find the ship on which you received the Sword of the Strange Belt. But so that you should not go alone, I would have you take Perceval and Bors with you. And I would not have you leave this land without healing the Maimed King: I want you to take some of the blood from this lance and anoint his legs, for thus and thus alone can he be cured.'

'Ah, Lord,' said Galahad, 'why won't you let the other nine knights come with us?'

'Because,' He replied, 'I would have you be the image of my apostles. For just as they ate with me at the Last Supper, so have you eaten with me now at the table of the Holy Grail. And you are twelve just as the apostles numbered twelve, and I the thirteenth, your master and your shepherd. And just as I sent them out across the world to preach the true law, so do I send you forth by separate ways - and all of you will die in this service.'

The same untranslatable play on words - linking 'agreer' ('to delight') with 'graal' - occurs here as appears in Robert de Boron's account of the Grail's provenance, above, p.20.

With that He gave them His blessing - and then vanished: they did not know what had become of Him, except that they saw Him rising Heavenward.

Then Galahad stepped up to the lance that lay upon the table and dipped his hand into the blood; and then he came before the Fisher King and anointed his legs just where they had been pierced. And in that very instant the king rose from his bed and walked, entirely whole and sound in body once more. He was to live a long time thereafter, not in the world but in an order of white monks.

Around midnight, after they had spent a long while praying to Our Lord to guide their souls to safety wherever they might go, a voice appeared in their midst saying:

'My true sons and my friends indeed, leave this place and go where adventure takes you and where you think you may do most good.'

And hearing this they all replied in one voice: 'Father in Heaven, may you be blessed for calling us sons and friends! Now we know our toils have not been in vain!'

With that they left the palace and went down to the courtyard where they found arms and horses waiting; they armed and mounted at once and rode from the castle.

The three rode on until, in less than four days, they reached the sea and found a ship at the shore - the very ship in which they had found the Sword of the Strange Belt - and saw the letters on the hull declaring that no-one should board it unless he was a firm believer in Christ. They stepped aboard, and at once they saw, lying across the bed that had been made in the middle of the deck, the silver table they had last seen at the castle of the Fisher King. And standing upon it, draped in a veil of red samite, was the Holy Grail. The companions beheld this wonder and spoke of their good fortune, that the object they most adored would be accompanying them to their journey's end. Then they crossed themselves and commended themselves to Our Lord, and the wind, which until then had been calm and serene, blasted into the sail with an awesome force and bore the ship from the shore and on to the open sea, where it blew ever stronger and drove them on at a mighty speed.

A long while they sailed so, not knowing where God was taking them. And each time Galahad lay down to sleep or rose from his bed he prayed to God that whenever he asked for release from this life He would grant it. So many nights and so many dawns did he make this prayer that at last the divine voice said to him:

'Have no fear, Galahad, for Our Lord will grant your wish. Whenever you ask for bodily death you shall have it, and will live in the spirit and have everlasting joy.'

Perceval heard this request, which Galahad had so often repeated, and was amazed, and begged him to explain why he so desired death.

'I'll tell you,' he replied. 'The other day, when we beheld some of the mysteries of the Holy Grail, and I saw the hidden secrets revealed to no-one but the ministers of Jesus Christ, and witnessed what the heart cannot conceive nor the tongue describe, my heart was filled with such sweetness and joy that if I had passed away at that moment I know that no man could have died in such total happiness. For before me was such a mighty company of angels and spiritual beings that I was transported from the earthly to the spiritual plane and shared the bliss of the glorious martyrs and the beloved of Our Lord. I hope death will bring me to an equal or an even better place to behold that joy: that is why I made that prayer. And I hope to pass from this world, by Our Lord's will, while gazing on the wonders of the Holy Grail.'

Thus it was that Galahad announced to Perceval his approaching death as the heavenly voice had promised him.

The companions sailed on for a long while, until one day they said to Galahad: 'Sir, you've yet to sleep on this bed that was prepared for you.'

He said he would do so, and lay down and slept for a long time; and the moment he awoke he looked before him and saw the city of Sarras. Then a voice came amongst them and said:

'Leave this ship now, knights of Christ, and take this silver table and carry it into the city; and do not set it down until you reach the spiritual palace where Our Lord consecrated Josephus the first bishop.'

And so, with Perceval and Bors in front and Galahad behind, they carried the table from the ship and on towards the city. But when they came to the gate Galahad was very wearied by the table's weight. In the gateway he saw a man on crutches, waiting for passers-by to give him alms, and as Galahad drew near him he said:

'Good man, come here and help me carry this table to the palace.'

'Oh, sir!' the man replied. 'What are you saying? It's a good ten years since I could walk unaided!'

'Don't worry,' said Galahad. 'Stand up now, and have no fear, for you are healed.'

No sooner had Galahad said this than the man made an effort to stand; and as soon as he did so he found he was as fit and strong as if he had never had an infirmity in his life. He ran to the table and took hold of a corner alongside Galahad; and as they entered the city he told everyone he met of the miracle God had wrought for him.

When they arrived at the palace they saw the throne that Our Lord had prepared for Josephus, the first bishop, long before; and the people of the city came flocking in wonder to see the cripple who was newly healed.

Now when the king of Sarras, whose name was Escorant, saw the three companions, he asked them where they were from and what it was they had brought upon the silver table. They replied in all truthfulness, and told him of the wonder that was the Grail and of the power that God had invested in it. But the king was treacherous and cruel, descended as he was from a cursed line of infidels, and he whispered that he did not believe their words and took them for base tricksters; and as soon as he saw them disarm he had them seized and thrown in prison.

A whole year they lay imprisoned, never let out of the dungeon; but Our Lord did not forget them: from the moment of their imprisonment He sent the Holy Grail to keep them company and to nourish them daily with its grace.

At the end of that year the day came when Galahad appealed to Our Lord, saying: 'Lord, I have dwelt long enough in this world. I pray you, deliver me from it, and soon.'

That very same day, King Escorant was lying ill, on the point of death, and he summoned the companions before him and begged their forgiveness for so mistreating them. They pardoned him most willingly, and he died upon the instant. And once he had been buried the people of the city were lost in dismay, for they did not know whom they could make king. They deliberated for a long while, and as they sat in consultation they heard a voice saying:

'Take the youngest of the three companions: he will be a fine protector, and give you guidance as long as he is with you.'

They followed the voice's command, and made Galahad their lord and crowned him. And his first decree was that an ark of gold and precious stones be made to cover the silver table and to house the holy vessel. And every morning, as soon as he rose, he and his companions came before the Grail to pray and worship.