Historical Tales, vol. 14, Part II - Charles Morris (top novels of all time .txt) 📗

hand, and said,—

"Come with me, young sir," and led him from the palace to the river to show him the marvel of the stone. After them followed the knights, and the queen and ladies of the court, all full of hope of greater wonders yet to come.

"Sir," said the king, "that sword floated hither this day. Many knights of great prowess have tried to draw it and failed."

"That is no marvel," said Galahad. "The sword is not theirs, but mine. And since I knew it awaited me I have brought no sword; but its scabbard, as you may see, hangs by my side."

Then he laid his hand upon the sword, and, while all eyes opened wide with wonder, drew it from the stone as easily as if it came from the water only, and thrust it into the scabbard, saying to the king,—

"It fits there better than in a floating stone."

"God has sent it you," said the king. "And I doubt not he will send you a shield in as marvellous a manner."

"This is the sword that at one time belonged to Balin le Savage," said Galahad, "and with which he killed his brother Balan, in that terrible joust which happened many years ago. The scabbard I wear was Balin's scabbard, and it was Merlin who put the sword into that stone, saying that no hand should draw it but that of Lancelot, or his son Galahad. Nor can any man have forgotten the dolorous stroke which Balin dealt my grandfather King Pellam, of which he is not yet healed, nor shall be till I heal him. So has Merlin prophesied."

As they talked thus a lady on a white palfrey was seen riding down the river side to where they stood. Reaching the group, she saluted the king and queen, and asked if Sir Lancelot were there.

"I am here, fair lady," he answered.

"Sad is it," she said, while tears flowed from her eyes, "that all your great renown is changed since this day's dawn."

"Damsel, why say you this?"

"Until to-day you were the best knight in the world," she answered. "But he who should say this now would speak falsely, for there has come a better than you. And this is proved by the adventure of the sword to which you dared not set your hand. Remember well what I have said."

"As touches that," rejoined Lancelot, "I never had the pride of being the best knight in the world, nor do I envy my son if any worship has passed from me to him."

"Yet you were the greatest; and still are among sinful men," she persisted. "And, sir king," she said to Arthur, "this more I am bid to say, from the holy lips of Nancien the hermit, that to you shall fall to-day the greatest of honors; for this day the Sangreal shall appear in your palace, and feed you and all your fellowship of the Round Table!"

With these words she turned her palfrey and rode away as she had come, leaving all who had heard her lost in wonder and admiration.

When they had a little got over their wonder at what they had seen, the king gave orders that the stone should be taken from the water, saying that he would have it set up as a monument of those strange events.

"And as it may be long before you all come together here again, I should like to have you joust in the meadow of Camelot, by way of honor to this day."

Thus he spoke; but his real purpose was to see Galahad proved, for he feared that if he once left the court it might be long before he should see him again. Then the knights put on their armor and rode to the meadow in a gallant cavalcade. Galahad also, at the earnest request of the king, put on armor, but he would take no shield, though the king and Lancelot prayed him to do so. The most he would consent to do was to take a spear.

But noble work he did that day, meeting all men who cared to break spears with him, so that by the end of the joust he had thrown down many good Knights of the Round Table. Only two of them, Lancelot and Percivale, were able to keep their seats against the vigorous onset of the strong young knight.

When the jousting was at an end, the king and knights went back to Camelot, where they attended even-song at the great minster. Thence they proceeded to the palace hall, where all took their seats at the table for supper.

But as they sat eating, there came outside a terrible crash of thunder, and a wind arose that seemed as if it would rend the great hall from its foundations. In the midst of this blast the hall was lighted by a sudden gleam seven times brighter than the midday light, in whose glare the knights sat dumb, none daring to speak. But each looked at the others, and it seemed to each that his fellows were fairer of visage than he had ever seen them before.

Then the storm and the glare passed away as suddenly as they had come, and there entered the hall the holy grail. None there saw it, for it was covered with white samite, but the hall was filled with the rarest odors, and each knight saw on the table before him the meats and drinks that he loved best in the world.

When the holy vessel had passed through the hall, it suddenly vanished, none knew how. And not till then dared any man speak.

"Certes," said the king, "we ought to thank God devoutly for what he has shown us this day."

"We have enjoyed the richest of perfumes, and have before us the rarest of food," said Gawaine; "and we have but one thing to regret, that the sacred vessel was so preciously covered that no eye might behold it. But this miracle has filled my soul with the warmest desire to see this holy thing, and I therefore vow that to-morrow, without delay, I shall set out in quest of the Sangreal, and shall not return hither till I have seen it more openly, if it take me a twelvemonth or more. If I fail in the end, I shall return as one who is not worthy to behold the holy vessel."

On hearing these words the other knights arose as one man, and repeated the vow which Gawaine had made.

Upon this, King Arthur sprang to his feet in deep displeasure, for there came to his mind like a vision a host of evil consequences from this inconsiderate vow.

"You are over-hasty, Gawaine," he said, sharply, "and have done me a lifelong evil with your vow. For you have bereft me of the fairest fellowship that ever came together in this world. When my knights depart hence on that difficult search, well I know that they will never all meet again in this world, for many shall die in the quest. Therefore it distresses me deeply, for I have loved them as I loved my life, and I would rather have my soul depart from my body than to lose their noble fellowship. Long have we dwelt together in sorrow and in joy, but I fear our happy days are at an end, and that trouble and suffering await us in the time to come. What God wills must be, but my heart is sore at the thought of it."

And men who looked upon the king could see tears of distress and grief flowing from his eyes.

CHAPTER III. HOW GALAHAD GOT HIS SHIELD.

When morning came the knights made ready for their departure, amid the tears and lamentations of ladies, and with the deep sorrow of the king and queen. For there were a hundred and fifty of them in all, comprising the whole fellowship of the Table Round, and King Arthur had deep reason for his fear that he would never gather all these gallant knights round his festal board again. And so they mounted and rode through the streets of Camelot, where was weeping of rich and poor, and the king turned away and could not speak for grief, while Queen Guenever hid herself in her chamber, to be alone with her bitter sorrow at the going of Lancelot.

Onward they rode in company until they came to a castle and town that were named Vagon. There they stopped and were well entertained by the lord of the castle, who was a man of great hospitality. But when morning came it was decided between them that they should separate, each taking his own course, so that the Sangreal might be sought in all quarters. This they did with much sorrow and many fervent farewells, each knight taking the way that he liked the best, and riding alone and afar on his perilous quest.

First must we follow the young knight Galahad, who still rode without a shield, and who passed onward for four days without an adventure. Near eventide of the fourth day he came to a white abbey, where he was received with great respect, and led to a chamber that he might lay off his armor. And here, to his surprise, he met with two of the goodly company from which he had lately parted, Sir Uwaine and King Bagdemagus.

"Sirs," said Galahad, "what adventure brought you hither?"

"We are told," they replied, "that within this place is a shield of perilous significance. For he who bears it about his neck runs deep risk of being slain within three days, or maimed forever. Yet," said Bagdemagus, "I shall bear it to-morrow and try my fortune."

"In the name of God, try it," said Galahad. "Yet truly you take a great risk."

"If I fail therein, you shall take the adventure. I am sure you will not fail."

"I agree to that," said Galahad. "I have ridden far enough without a shield."

Then they went to supper, and afterwards to sleep. When morning came Bagdemagus asked of the abbot where the magic shield was, and a monk led him behind an altar where hung a shield as white as snow, but with a red cross in its centre.

"I hope you are well advised of what you do," said the monk. "No knight, unless he be the worthiest in the world, can safely bear this shield."

"I know well that I am not the best of knights," said Bagdemagus; "and yet I shall wear it and dare the danger."

Then he took it out of the monastery, and said to Galahad,—

"If it please you, await me here till you learn how I shall speed."

"I shall await tidings," said Galahad.

Bagdemagus now rode forward with a squire, that he might send back tidings of his good or ill fortune, and passed onward for two miles, when he found himself in a valley before a hermitage. Here he saw a stalwart knight in white armor, horse and all, who, in seeing the red-cross shield, rode upon him at the full speed of his charger. Bagdemagus put his spear in rest and rode to meet him, but his spear broke on the white knight, while he was wounded in the right shoulder and borne from his horse, the treacherous shield refusing to cover him. Then the victor knight alighted and took the white shield from him, saying,—

"Sir knight, you have acted with more folly than wisdom, for you should have known that only he who has no peer living can safely bear this shield."

Then he went to the squire who had come with King Bagdemagus, and said,—

"Bear this shield to the good knight Sir Galahad, whom you left in the abbey, and greet him from me."

"What shall I tell him is your name?"

"Take no heed of my name. That