Lancelot's Quest

WHEN LANCELOT LEFT THE HERMITAGE he rode on until he passed out of the forest and found before him a waste land, a land stretching far and wide where there dwelt neither beasts nor birds, for the earth was so poor and dry that there was no pasture to be found. Lancelot gazed far before him, and a city appeared to view; he rode on towards it at a swift pace, and found that the city was so huge that it stretched to every horizon. But he could see its walls crumbling round about, and the gates leaning with age. He rode inside to find the city deserted, its great palaces derelict and waste, its markets and exchanges empty, its vast graveyards full of tombs, its churches crumbling. Through the great streets he rode until he found a huge palace which seemed to be less ruined than the others. He drew rein before it, to hear knights and ladies lamenting bitterly and saying to a knight:

'Oh God! What a shame and sorrow it is that you must go and die, and your death cannot be delayed!'

Lancelot heard all this but could see no-one. But just then the knight came down from the hall: he was young and handsome, and was dressed in a red coat girdled with a rich belt of silk and gold; a beautiful brooch was pinned at his neck clustered with precious stones; his head was crowned with a golden hat; and in his hands he clutched a huge axe. As he approached he said to Lancelot: 'Dismount, sir.'

'Gladly,' said Lancelot, and he climbed down and tethered his horse to a silver ring set in the mounting-block. 'What do you want, sir?' he said to the knight.

'Sir,' came the reply, 'you must cut off my head with this axe, for I'm condemned to death with this weapon; if not, I'll cut off yours.'

'By my life!' cried Lancelot. 'What are you saying?'

'What you hear, sir,' said the knight. 'This you must do since you've come to the city.'

'Sir,' said Lancelot, 'only a fool would fail to see how to get the better in this game! But it would be to my shame to kill you without cause.'

'Truly,' said the knight, 'you cannot leave otherwise.'

'Dear sir,' said Lancelot, 'you look so fine and noble: how can you go so calmly to your death? You surely know I'd sooner kill you than have you kill me, since that's the choice.'

'I'm well aware of that,' said the knight, 'but you must swear to me before I die that you'll return to the city in a year's time and offer your head freely, without contest, just as I offer mine.'

'Upon my soul!' cried Lancelot. 'Nothing you could say would dissuade me from deferring death rather than dying here and now. But I'm amazed you're so well prepared to die.'

'Sir,' the knight replied, 'a man about to go before the Saviour of the world must cleanse himself of all the sins he's ever committed, and I'm now truly repented of mine, and I want to die so.'

And with that he handed him the axe. Lancelot took it and saw how keen and sharp it was.

'Sir,' said the knight, 'stretch out your hand towards that church you can see.'

'Very well,' said Lancelot.

'Will you now swear to me on the relics in that church,' said the knight, 'that you'll return here a year from this day, at the hour at which you kill me, and offer your head freely, without defence, as I shall in a moment offer mine?'

'I swear it,' said Lancelot.

And with that the knight knelt down and stretched out his neck as straight as he could. Lancelot clutched the axe in both hands and said: 'For God's sake, sir knight, have mercy on yourself.'

'Willingly, sir. Let me cut off your head. Only thus can I find mercy.'

'That mercy I will not grant you,' said Lancelot, and he raised the axe and struck off the knight's head with such a terrible blow that he sent it flying seven feet from the body. The headless knight crashed to the ground, and as Lancelot threw down the axe he thought he would do ill to linger there, and he returned to his horse, took up his arms and mounted. When he looked back he could see neither the body of the knight nor his head, and he could not think what had become of them; but he heard a great, mournful crying of knights and ladies far off in the city: they were bewailing the Good Knight, and saying that he would be avenged, God willing, at the agreed time or sooner. Lancelot rode out of the city, hearing every word the knights and ladies said.

On he rode through a forest until he came upon a castle which lay across his path at the edge of a glade. At the entrance to the castle he saw an aged knight and two maidens sitting on a bridge. He rode that way and the knight and the maidens rose to meet him. Lancelot dismounted, and the old vassal said: 'Welcome, sir!'

And the maidens greeted him joyfully and led him into the castle.

'Sir,' said the vassal, 'we sorely needed you to come!'

Lancelot was led up to the hall and disarmed, and the maidens served him with the greatest kindness.

'These two girls,' the vassal said, 'are my daughters, and are in a sorry plight.

Certain men are trying to seize this castle from them, because they've no aid or support except from me, and I can provide no strong defence, for I'm old and frail. For a long while I've found no-one bold enough to defend me from our attackers, but you seem to be of such great valour that you'd surely go to my defence tomorrow, for our truce ends tonight.'

'What?' cried Lancelot. 'I came to this castle only to find lodging, and you'd engage me so soon in battle?'

'Thus, sir,' said the vassal, 'we'll test whether there's as much valour in your heart as there seems from your appearance; and in defending the fief of these maidens, my daughters, you'll win God's love and the world's honour.'

At that the maidens fell weeping at his feet, begging him to have mercy on them for God's sake, that they might not be robbed of their inheritance. And Lancelot, filled with pity, asked them to rise at once, saying: 'Damsels, I'll do all in my power to help you, but may the time be near.'

'Sir,' they replied, 'the day is fixed for tomorrow, and if by then we've not found a knight to be our champion, this castle will be lost to us for sure. This hateful attack is being levelled at us because we once gave lodging to Sir Gawain.'

Lancelot lay that night at the castle and was treated with all honour. The next day after hearing mass he armed, and as soon as he had done so, he heard three loud blasts of a horn ring out beyond the castle gate.

'Sir!' cried the vassal to Lancelot. 'The knight has arrived! He thinks there's no-one here to defend us.'

'But there is, by my life!' said Lancelot.

The knight sounded his horn once more, and Lancelot went down to find his horse saddled and he mounted at once. The maidens were at his stirrups, begging him in God's name to defend their honour, for if he failed, they would face a wretched flight to other lands. Once more the knight sounded his horn, and Lancelot would tarry no longer; out he rode, his lance in his hand and his shield slung at his neck. He could see the knight at the far end of the meadow, fully armed, waiting beneath a tree. Lancelot spurred towards him, and seeing him coming the knight cried:

'What do you want, sir knight? Have you come to do me harm?'

'Yes indeed!' cried Lancelot. 'For you mean to do mischief here, and I challenge you on behalf of the vassal and his daughters!'

And he struck the knight full on the shield, smashing through the boss with such a furious thrust that he pinned his arm to his side and felled both him and his horse. Then he leaped down and came running to the attack, sword drawn.

'Oh, sir!' cried the knight. 'Stand back! Don't kill me! Tell me your name.'

'What use is my name to you?'

'I'd gladly know it, sir,' he said, 'for you seem a fine knight indeed, as I've learned only too well in our first meeting!'

'My name, sir knight, is Lancelot of the Lake. And yours?'

'Marin, sir, of the Castle of Gomorret, and I'm the father of Meliot of Logres. And I beg you by all you hold most dear in the world not to kill me.'

'By all that I hold most dear in the world I will,' cried Lancelot, 'unless you abandon your hostility towards this castle!'

'Then truly, I shall,' said the knight. 'I promise they'll never have anything more to fear from me.'

'I'll not trust your word,' said Lancelot, 'unless you come with me to the castle.'

'Sir, you've wounded me gravely; I can't easily mount.'

So Lancelot helped Marin on to his horse, and then led him to the castle and made him present his sword to the vassal and the maidens and surrender his shield and his arms, and swear on holy relics that he would never again wage war upon them. With that he left the castle, while Marin made his way back to Gomorret, leaving the vassal and his two daughters to live in happiness.

Lancelot now journeyed through strange forests in search of adventure, and rode on until he found himself in open country outside a huge city which seemed to be of great importance. As he rode across the fields he saw a great company ride out amid a mighty noise of bagpipes and flutes and viols. They were coming down the road towards Lancelot, and when the foremost neared him they halted and redoubled their joy, crying: 'Welcome, sir!'

'My lords,' said Lancelot, 'who are you preparing to meet with such celebration?'

'Our masters will tell you that,' they said. 'They're following behind.'

And up came the provosts and the lords of the city to meet Lancelot. 'Sir,' they said, 'this whole city is overcome with jubilation for your sake, and all these instruments are sounding their joy at your coming!'

'Why should they sound for me?' said Lancelot.

'We'll tell you,' they said. 'This city has begun to burn in one quarter ever since the death of our king, and the fire will never be quenched until we find a king to be lord of our city and its fief for a year's term. At the end of that year he must cast himself into the fire, and then it will be extinguished. Until then it cannot be quenched, nor will it die. So we've come to meet you to bestow our kingdom upon you, for we've heard that you're a great knight!'

'My lords,' said Lancelot, 'I've no need of such a kingdom, and may God save me from the honour!'

'Sir,' they said, 'you can't be saved from it now that you've come to our land; and it would be a great pity if such a beautiful city were to fall to ruins to avoid the death of one man. And its fief is great indeed - it would be a high honour for you. And at the year's end you'll be crowned in the fire to save the city and its people and win high praise indeed!'

Lancelot was filled with awe by their words, but they crowded round him on every side and bore him into the city. Ladies and maidens stood at great stone windows to cry their joy, saying to one another:

'Behold, they bring the new king! In a year's time the fire will be quenched!'

'But God!' cried some. 'What a shame it is that such a handsome knight should die so.'

'Silence!' said others. 'It's a great joy that so fine a city as ours should be saved by his death, for all the kingdom will pray for his soul evermore.'

Rejoicing, they led him into the palace and said they would crown him. Lancelot found the palace strewn with reeds and hung with rich silken drapes, and all the lords of the city were standing ready to pay him homage; but he staunchly refused, saying he would never be their king or their lord in this way.

It was just then that a dwarf entered the city with one of the most beautiful maidens in the kingdom, and he asked what had caused such rejoicing and commotion. He was told how they wanted to make a knight their king and how he would not agree, and he was told about the fire, too; whereupon the dwarf and the maiden dismounted before the palace and climbed the steps, and the dwarf cried out to all the lords and the most powerful men of the city:

'My lords, since this knight has no wish to be king, I'll accept your crown most willingly, and govern this city at your pleasure and do all that you require.'

'In faith,' they said, 'since the knight has refused this honour and you wish to accept it, we grant it to you gladly. Now he may resume his journey, for we declare him free.'

With that they set the crown on the dwarf's head, and Lancelot, filled with joy, took his leave and commended them to God. But as he rode through the city in all his armour, the ladies and maidens whispered of how he was not willing to be king and die so soon.

He was glad indeed to leave the city behind, and he passed once more into a great forest and rode on until the sun went down; and then, looking ahead, he caught sight of a hermitage: it had been set up very recently, for the dwelling and the chapel were newly built. He turned that way to find lodging, and as he dismounted, the hermit, a young man without a beard or a moustache, came out of the chapel.

'Welcome, sir!' he said to Lancelot.

'I wish you good fortune,' he replied. 'But I've never seen one so young as you in a hermitage.'

'Sir, my only regret is that I didn't come here a long time ago.'

With that, he stabled Lancelot's horse and led him into the hermitage, where he took off his armour and made him as comfortable as he could.

'Sir,' said the hermit, 'can you give me news of a knight who lay for a long time at the house of a hermit king?'

'Oh, it's only a short while since I saw him.'

'Where was that, sir?' he said.

'At that very house, for the Hermit King cared for me and tended the wounds the knight gave me!'

'Then the knight is now cured?'

'Yes, sir,' said Lancelot, 'which is a great joy indeed. But why do you ask?'

'It's only right that I should,' he said, 'for my father King Pelles is his uncle, and his mother is my father's sister.'

'Oh, sir, then the Hermit King is your father?'

'Indeed he is.'

'Then I love you the more,' said Lancelot, 'for I never met a man who did me such honour as he. What's your name?'

'Joseus; and yours?'

'Sir,' he said, 'my name is Lancelot of the Lake.'

'Then we're closely related, you and I!'

'Truly,' said Lancelot, 'that gladdens my heart!'

Then he looked around the hermit's dwelling and saw a shield and a lance, a sword, a hauberk and javelins.

'Sir,' he said, 'why do you keep those weapons?'

'This forest is a lonely place,' he replied, 'far from any people, and there's no-one here but me and my boy. When robbers and villains come to attack us, we defend ourselves.'

'I didn't think,' said Lancelot, 'that anyone would kill or hurt a hermit.'

'And may God keep me,' said the hermit, 'from ever killing or wounding a

Man.

'Then how do you defend yourself?'

'When robbers come we arm ourselves; if I can get hold of one with my hands he'll not escape, and my boy is tough and brave and will kill him at once or render him harmless.'

'By my life,' said Lancelot, 'I can see that if you weren't a hermit you'd do likewise!'

'True enough,' said the hermit's boy, 'for I think there's none as strong and bold as he in all the kingdom of Logres!'

That night the hermit lodged Lancelot as well as he could. But just as they had fallen asleep, four robber knights came riding up from the forest, for they knew that a knight was lodged there, and coveted his horse and arms. The hermit, who was in the chapel, spotted them first, and he woke his boy and told him to fetch his arms as quietly as he could. Then he armed at once and told the boy to do likewise.

'Shall I wake the knight, sir?' asked the boy.

'No, not until we have good reason.'

Then snatching up a piece of rope he opened the chapel door, and they ran outside to find the robbers in the stable, about to steal Lancelot's horse. The hermit shouted out at them, and the boy ran forward and brought one down with his lance; the hermit seized him and bound him to a tree so tightly that he could not move, while the other three set about defending themselves and tried to rescue their companion. Lancelot heard the commotion and jumped up in alarm and armed himself as fast as he could; but by the time he arrived the hermit had caught the other three and tied them up with the fourth.

'Ah, sir,' said the hermit to Lancelot, 'I'm sorry you were woken up.'

'It was very wrong of you,' he said, 'not to call on me before!'

'Oh,' said the hermit, 'we often have attacks like this.'

The four robbers begged Lancelot for mercy, imploring him to ask the hermit to take pity on them; but Lancelot said: 'May God never aid a man who has pity on thieves.'

And as soon as it was day, Lancelot and the boy led them out into the forest, their hands tied behind their backs, and hanged them in a wild place far from the hermitage.

Then Lancelot took his leave of the young hermit Joseus, saying that it was a great loss to the world that he was not a knight.

'But it's a great joy, too, sir,' said the boy, 'for many men may find a model in him.'

Lancelot mounted and Joseus commended him to God, and begged him to greet his father and cousin for him when he saw them, and Sir Gawain, too, who had met him in the forest as he came in tears to the hermitage.

Lancelot took to the road again. He journeyed on through great forests, finding many castles and hermitages, until he came at last upon a beautiful meadowland where flowers bloomed everywhere; and through it flowed a great river, clear and wide. Looking ahead, Lancelot caught sight of a big boat; on board were three aged, white-haired knights, and a maiden who seemed to be resting in her lap the head of a knight who lay upon a mattress covered with brocaded silk and blanketed with ermine. Another maiden was sitting at his feet. There was a knight in the boat fishing; the shank of his hook seemed to be of gold, and he was catching a great number of big fish, which he placed in a little craft behind the boat. Lancelot rode down to the bank as fast as he could and hailed the knights and maidens, who returned his greeting most courteously.

'My lords,' said Lancelot, 'is there a house or a castle near here?'

'Indeed there is, sir,' they said, 'on the other side of that mountain; a fine and handsome castle, and this river flows all round it.'

'To whom does it belong, my lords?'

'To the Fisher King,' they said. 'He gives lodging to good knights who come to this land. But lodging has been taken there by knights whom he has good cause to reproach.'

The knights sailed on down the river while Lancelot made his way to the foot of the mountain, where he found a hermitage beside a spring; and he thought to himself that, since he was about to go to so great and noble a house as that in which the Grail appeared, he would make confession to the holy man. So he dismounted and did so, owning to all his sins; and he said that he repented of all of them but one. The hermit asked him which sin that was.

'Sir,' said Lancelot, 'it seems to me the sweetest and most beautiful sin I ever committed.'

'Dear sir,' said the hermit, 'sins are sweet to commit, but the reward is bitter indeed; and no sin is beautiful or noble, though some are more base than others.'

'My tongue will tell,' said Lancelot, 'of the sin that my heart cannot repent. My lady, who is a queen, I dearly love more than anything in the world, and one of the finest kings alive has her for his wife. My desire for her seems to me so fine and noble that I cannot abandon it, and it is now so rooted in my heart that it can never leave me. And whatever is of most worth in me comes from that desire.'

'Oh, mortal sinner!' cried the hermit. 'What are you saying? Nothing of worth can come from such lust, and it will be most dearly bought! You are traitor to your earthly lord and a crucifier of the Saviour. Of the seven deadly sins you are burdened with one of the greatest. The joy it gives is pure deception, and you'll pay most dearly for it if you do not soon repent.'

'Never again, sir,' said Lancelot, 'will I confess it to any man on earth.'

'So much the worse!' cried the hermit. 'You should have confessed it long ago, and ceased your sinning forthwith, for as long as you hold to such ways you are an enemy of the Saviour.'

'Oh, sir!' cried Lancelot. 'There is so much beauty and worth and wisdom and courtesy in her that no man on whom she bestowed her love should abandon it!'

'The more beauty there is in her and the more worth,' said the hermit, 'the more she is to blame, and you likewise, for there is far less shame in a man of little worth than in one who ought to be worth much. And she is a blessed and sacred queen, sworn from the beginning to God, but now she has given herself to the Devil because of your love, just as you have done. My good, dear sir, abandon this folly of yours, repent of this sin, and each day I shall pray for you to the Saviour, that as truly as He gave forgiveness for His death to the man who pierced Him in the side with his lance, so may He forgive you for this sin you have clung to, so long as you confess yourself and are truly repentant. And I will take the penance upon myself.'

'I thank you, sir,' said Lancelot, 'but I've no desire to abandon my love, nor do I wish to say anything to you that my heart would deny. I will gladly do as great a penance as is laid down for this sin, for I wish to serve my lady the queen as long as she will have me as her love. And God is so gentle and full of kindness, as all holy men testify, that He will have mercy on us, for I've never been untrue to her, nor she to me.'

'Oh, my dear friend!' said the hermit. 'Nothing I say to you will be of any avail, but may God give both her and you the will to do the Saviour's bidding and save your souls. But now I must tell you this: because of the mortal sin that lies in your heart, if you lodge at the house of the rich Fisher King you will never see the Grail.'

'May God and His sweet mother guide me,' said Lancelot, 'by His will and pleasure.'

'May He indeed,' said the hermit. 'I, too, would have it so.'

Then Lancelot took his leave and mounted and left the hermitage. Night was near: he saw that it was time to find lodging, and there before him he could see the castle of the Fisher King. He saw its bridges great and wide, for they did not seem to him as they had seemed to Sir Gawain. He gazed at the fine gateway where God was pictured, nailed to the Cross; and he saw two lions guarding the entrance, and thought that Sir Gawain must have passed between the lions, and so would he. He rode on towards the gate, and the lions on their chains pricked up their ears and watched him; but Lancelot passed through with no fear; and neither did him any harm.

He dismounted before the great hall and climbed the steps. Two aged knights came to greet him, and received him with the greatest joy, seating him on a couch in the middle of the hall and bidding two servants take off his armour. Two maidens brought Lancelot a rich gown and elegantly dressed him, while he gazed at the splendour of the hall, adorned with holy images and hung on every side with silken drapes. Then the two knights led him into the richest of chambers; and there lay the Fisher King, on a bed so rich and so finely decked that never was one more splendid seen; and there was a maiden at his head and one at his feet. Lancelot greeted him most highly and the king replied in comely words befitting such a noble man; and the room was filled with such a brilliant light that it seemed as if the sun were streaming in on every side, yet it was far into the night, and Lancelot could see no candle burning anywhere.

'Sir,' said the Fisher King, 'can you give me news of my grandson, the son of Alain li Gros of the Vales of Kamaalot, who is called Perceval?'

'I saw him, sire,' said Lancelot, 'just a short while ago at the house of his uncle, the Hermit King.'

'I've heard he's a fine knight indeed.'

'The finest in the world, sire,' said Lancelot. 'I myself have tasted his merit and valour, for he wounded me sorely before we recognised each other.'

'And what is your name?' said the king.

'Sire, my name is Lancelot of the Lake, the son of King Ban of Benuic.'

'Ah,' said the king, 'then you are of our line. You should be a fine knight indeed, and so you are, as I've heard tell. Lancelot,' he said, 'behold the chapel of the Holy Grail. It appeared to two knights who came here: I don't know the name of the first, but I never saw one so calm or so composed, nor one who looked a finer knight. But because of him I've fallen into languor. The other knight was Sir Gawain.'

'Sire,' said Lancelot, 'the first was your grandson, Perceval.'

'Oh!' cried the Fisher King. 'Take care that you speak true!'

'I do, sire,' said Lancelot. 'I ought to know him.'

'Oh, God!' cried the king. 'Then why did I not realise? Because of him I'm languishing, but if I'd known that it was he, I would now have been sound in limbs and body! I pray you, when you see him, tell him to come and see me before I die, and to go and aid his sister, for her men are being slain and her land is being taken, and he alone can win it back. His sister has gone in search of him through every realm.'

'Sire,' said Lancelot, 'I'll gladly tell him so if I find him anywhere; but it'll be a great stroke of luck if I do, for he goes under many disguises and conceals his name in many parts.'

The Fisher King honoured Lancelot most highly. The knights led him into the hall and seated him to dine at an ivory table. When they had washed, the table was laid with the richest vessels of gold and silver, and they were served with fine dishes of venison and boar. But the Grail did not appear at the feast. It did not appear, because Lancelot was not one of the three finest knights in the world, because of his sin with the queen; he would not repent of his love for her, for he thought more of her than of anything else and could not restrain his heart. When they had eaten they rose from the tables, and two maidens attended upon Lancelot as he went to his bed; he lay that night on the finest of couches, and they would not leave his side until he had fallen asleep.

He rose next morning as soon as he saw day break and went to hear mass. Then he took his leave of the Fisher King and the knights and maidens, and rode out of the castle between the two lions, praying to God that he might soon see the queen, for that was his greatest desire. He rode on until he had left the castle far behind, and passed into the forest, dearly hoping to meet Perceval, but he was not to hear news of him for quite some time.