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

are you?" asked Percivale.

"I have come hither from a strange country to comfort you," said the old man.

"Then, sir, can you tell me what my dream signifies?" and Percivale related what had befallen him.

"That can I," said the old man. "She that rode on the lion betokens the new law of holy church, and she came through love, to warn you of the great battle that is before you."

"With whom shall I fight?" asked Percivale.

"With the strongest champion of the world, and if you fail in the fight you shall not escape with the loss of a limb, but shall be shamed to the world's end. As for her that rode on the serpent, she betokens the old law. Heed her not. The serpent you slew betokens the devil that you rode hither, and whom you overcame by the sign of the cross. Yield not to her or any of her kindred, or worse will befall you."

Then the ship turned and sailed away, leaving Percivale again alone. But when he went up the rocks he found there the lion, which he stroked and made joyful fellowship with.

And thus time went on till midday. Then Percivale saw a ship approaching with such speed as if all the winds in the world had driven it. On it kept till it reached land at the beach below him. He hurried hopefully to meet it, and saw that it was covered with black silk, while on the deck stood a lady of great beauty, who was dressed in the richest apparel.

"What brought you into this wilderness?" she cried to the knight. "Here you are likely to die of hunger, for no man may cross yonder rocks and escape."

"I serve the best master in the world," said Percivale. "He will not suffer harm to come to me."

"Sir Percivale," said she, "know you who I am?"

"Who taught you my name?" he answered.

"I know you better than you deem," she replied, laughing. "This much I may tell you, that not long since I was in the waste forest, where I saw the red knight with the white shield."

"Ah! is that so? Fain would I meet with him."

"I shall bring you to him; but only on covenant that you will come to my aid when I summon you."

"If it be in reason and uprightness, you may trust me," he replied.

"I saw him," she continued, "chase two knights into the stream that is called Mortaise, and follow them into the water. But they passed over, and his horse was drowned, and only by his great strength he got safe to land again."

"That I am very glad to hear. It would have been a sad day had that good knight been drowned."

"You look pale and thin," she remarked. "Have you eaten lately?"

"Not these three days," he answered. "Yet I spoke of late with a good man, whose words refreshed me as if I had partaken of rich viands."

"Ah, sir knight," she said, "beware of that old man. I know him better than you. He is a false enchanter, who seeks your harm. If you heed his words shame will be your lot, and you will die on this rock and be devoured by wild beasts. I am here to help you in your need, for I am not content to see so good a knight come to harm and disgrace."

"Who are you," asked Percivale, "that proffer me so great a kindness?"

"Once I was the richest woman in the world," she answered. "Now I am disinherited and in want."

"Then I pity you greatly. Who is it that has disinherited you?"

"I dwelt with the greatest man in the world," she answered, "and to him I owe my beauty,—a beauty of which I was, alas! too proud. Then I said that which offended him deeply, and he drove me away from him, and robbed me of my heritage, and has never since had pity for me nor for my friends. Since this has happened I have done my best to wean his men from him, and many of them now cling to me, and I and they war against him day and night. I know no good knight, nor good man, but that I strive to win him to my side, and all such I repay well for their services. For he against whom I wage war is strong, and I need all the aid to be had. Therefore, since I know you for a valiant knight, I beseech you to help me. A fellow of the Round Table cannot, under his vow, fail any woman that is disinherited, and that seeks his aid."

"That is true, indeed," said Percivale, "and I shall do all I can for you."

"You have my earnest thanks," she said.

Then, as the weather was hot, she called some of her attendants, and bade them bring a pavilion and set it up on the gravel near the sea-line.

"Sir knight," she said, "I pray you to rest here in the heat of the day, while my attendants prepare food for you."

He thanked her and laid aside his helm and shield, and fell asleep within the pavilion, where he slumbered long. When he awoke he asked her if the food was ready.

"Yes," she answered; "I have worked while you slumbered."

Then a table was set within the pavilion, and covered with a rich array of meats and drinks, of which Percivale ate with great appetite, while the lady sat opposite him with a very gracious aspect. The wine he drank was the strongest that had ever passed his lips, and its strength soon got into his veins and heated his brain.

The lady now smiled graciously upon him, and it seemed to him that he had never beheld so fair a creature. Her beauty so worked upon his heated blood, indeed, that he proffered her his love, and prayed earnestly for hers in return.

When she saw his loving ardor, and that the wine worked like fire in his blood, she said, with a smile of witchery,—

"Sir Percivale, if I become yours, you must become mine. I shall not grant you my love unless you swear that henceforth you will be my true servant, and do nothing but what I shall command. Will you thus bind yourself, as you are a true knight?"

"That will I, fair lady, by the faith of my body."

"Then this I will say, that of all the knights in the world you are he whom I most love. And you may seal upon my lips the compact we have made."

But when Percivale came towards her, to claim the proffered kiss, which she offered with such bewitching grace, by chance or through God's aid he saw his sword, which lay on the ground at his feet, and in its pommel a red cross, with the sign of the crucifix therein. Then came to his mind the promise he had made to the old man, and his knightly vows, and with a pious impulse he raised his hand and made the sign of the cross on his forehead, the while his eyes were fixed on the lovely face of the tempter before him.

As he did so her smile changed to a look of deadly hate, and the loveliness of her face to a hideous aspect, while in the same moment the pavilion fell as before a great wind, and then vanished in smoke and cloud.

Over the sea the wind rose and roared, and as he looked he saw the ship battling with heaving waves, while the water seemed to burn behind it. On the deck stood the lady, who cried,—

"Sir Percivale, you have betrayed me! Beware, proud knight, I shall have my revenge." Then the ship drove out to sea, and vanished from his sight.

But in a passion of remorse Percivale snatched up the sword that lay before him, and crying, "Since my flesh has been my master I will punish it," he drove the naked blade through his thigh, till the blood spouted out like a fountain.

"Wretch that I am, how nearly was I lost!" he cried, in a torment of conscience. "Fair sweet Father, Jesus Christ my Lord, let me not be shamed, as I would now have been but for thy good grace. Take this wound in recompense for what I have done against thee, and forgive me my deep transgression, I humbly pray thee."

But as he lay moaning and bleeding the wild winds went down and the sea grew smooth, while he saw coming from the Orient the ship with the good man, on board, on beholding whom he fell into a swoon.

When he awoke he found that his wound had been dressed and the bleeding stopped. Beside him sat the good man, who asked him,—

"How hast thou done since I departed?"

"Weakly and wickedly enough," he answered. "A witch beguiled me, and I nearly fell a victim to her wiles."

"Knew you her not?"

"Only that I deem the foul fiend sent her here to shame me."

"Worse than that, good knight. Your victory is greater than you deem. That seeming woman who deceived you was no less an adversary than the master-fiend of hell, who has power over all the lesser devils, and, had you yielded you had been lost forever. For this is the mighty champion against whom you were forwarned; he who was once the brightest angel of heaven, and was driven out by our Lord Christ for his sins, and thus lost his heritage. But that the grace of God was on your side you would have fallen before this champion of evil. Take this, Sir Percivale, as a warning and an example."

With these words the good man vanished away. Then the mariners carried the wounded knight on board their ship, and set sail, bearing him rapidly away from that scene of temptation and victory.

CHAPTER V. THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF SIR BORS.

When Sir Bors parted from his companions, on the quest of the Sangreal, not far had he gone when he met a religious man riding on an ass, whom he courteously saluted.

"Who are you?" asked the good man.

"I am one of those knights who have set out in quest of the Sangreal," said Bors. "I would fain have your counsel in this high duty, for great honor shall come to him who succeeds therein."

"That is true," said the good man. "He that wins the Sangreal will be counted the best knight and the purest soul among men. None can hope to attain it except through cleanness of spirit."

Then they rode together till they came to a hermitage. Here Bors went into the chapel with his companion, and confessed to him, and ate bread and drank water with him.

"Now," said the good man, "I charge you that you take no other food than bread and water till you sit at the table where the Sangreal shall be."

"To that I agree. But how know you that I shall ever sit there?"

"I know it, let that suffice; but few of your comrades shall have that honor."

"All that God sends me will be welcome," said Bors.

"Also, instead of a shirt, and in token of chastisement, you shall wear this garment," and the good man produced a scarlet coat, which Bors promised to wear next his skin till the Sangreal should be won.

Then, after further wholesome advice, he resumed his armor and departed. He had gone but a little way from the hermitage when he passed a tree that was little more than an old and leafless trunk, and on one of its boughs he saw a great bird, surrounded by young that were nearly dead with hunger. As, he continued to look at this strange sight, the bird smote itself in the breast with its sharp beak, and bled till it died among its young. Then the young birds fed on