Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory

by Thomas Malory

  And than he wente to sir Galahad and kyssed hym, and bade hym go and kysse hys felowis. And so he ded anone.

  ‘Now,’ seyde he, ‘the servauntes of Jesu Cryste, ye shull be fedde afore thys table with swete metis that never knyghtes yet tasted.’ And whan he had seyde he vanysshed away. And they sette hem at the table in grete drede and made their prayers. Than loked they and saw a man com oute of the holy vessell that had all the sygnes of the Passion of Jesu Cryste bledynge all opynly, and seyde, ‘My knyghtes and my servauntes, and my trew chyldren which bene com oute of dedly lyff into the spirituall lyff, I woll no lenger cover me frome you, but ye shall se now a parte of my secretes and of my hydde thynges. Now holdith and resseyvith the hyghe order and mete whych ye have so much desired.’

  Than toke He hymselff the holy vessell and cam to sir Galahad. And he kneled adowne and resseyved hys Saveoure. And aftir hym so ressayved all hys felowis. And they thought hit so sweete that hit was mervaylous to telle. Than seyde He to sir Galahad, ‘Sonne, wotyst thou what I holde betwyxte my hondis?’

  ‘Nay,’ seyde he, ‘but if ye telle me.’

  ‘Thys ys,’ seyde He, ‘the holy dysshe wherein I ete the lambe on Estir Day, and now hast thou sene that thou moste desired to se. But yet hast thou nat sene hit so opynly as thou shalt se hit in the cité of Sarras, in the spirituall paleyse. Therefore thou must go hense and beare with the thys holy vessell, for this nyght hit shall departe frome the realme of Logrus, and hit shall nevermore be sene here. And knowyst thou wherefore? For he ys nat served nother worshipped to hys ryght by hem of thys londe, for they be turned to evyll lyvyng, and therefore I shall disherite them of the honoure whych I have done them. And therefore go ye three to-morne unto the see, where ye shall fynde youre shippe redy, and with you take the swerde with the stronge gurdils, and no me with you but sir Percivale and sir Bors. Also I woll that ye take with you off thys bloode of thys speare for to anoynte the Maymed Kynge, both his legges and hys body, and he shall have hys heale.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde Galahad, ‘why shall nat thys other felowis go with us?’ Tor thys cause, for ryght as I departe my postels one here and anothir there, so I woll that ye departe. And two of you shall dy in my servyse, and one of you shall com agayne and telle tydynges.’ Than gaff He hem Hys blyssynge and vanysshed away.

  And sir Galahad wente anone to the speare which lay uppon the table and towched the bloode with hys fyngirs, and cam aftir to the maymed knyght and anoynted his legges and hys body. And therewith he clothed hym anone, and sterte uppon hys feete oute of hys bedde as an hole man, and thanked God that He had heled hym. And anone he leffte the worlde and yelded hymselffe to a place of religion of whyght monkes, and was a full holy man.

  And that same nyght, aboute mydnyght, cam a voyce amonge them which seyde, ‘My sunnes, and nat my chyeff sunnes, my frendis, and nat myne enemyes, go ye hens where ye hope beste to do, and as I bade you do.’

  ‘A, thanked be Thou, Lorde, that Thou wolt whyghtsauff to calle us Thy sunnes! Now may we well preve that we have at Host oure paynes.’

  And anone in all haste they toke their harneyse and departed; but the three knyghtes of Gaule one of hem hyght Claudyne, kynge Claudas sonne, and the other two were grete jantillmen than prayde sir Galahad to every che of them, that and they com to kynge Arthurs courte, ‘to salew my lorde sir Launcelot, my fadir, and hem all of the Rounde Table’, and prayde hem, and they com on that party, nat to forgete hit.

  Ryght so departed sir Galahad, and sir Percivale and sir Bors with hym, and so they rode three dayes. And than they com to a ryvage and founde the shippe whereof the tale spekith of tofore. And whan they com to the bourde they founde in the myddys of the bedde the table of sylver, whych they had lefft with the Maymed Kynge, and the Sankgreall whych was coverde with rede samyte. Than were they glad to have such thyngis in their felyship. And so they entred and made grete reverence thereto, and sir Galahad felle on hys kneys and prayde longe tyme to oure Lorde, that at what tyme that he asked he myght passe oute of this worlde. And so longe he prayde tyll a voice seyde, ‘Sir Galahad, thou shalt have thy requeste, and whan thou askyst the deth of thy body thou shalt have hit, and than shalt thou have the lyff of thy soule.’

  Than sir Percivale harde hym a litill, and prayde hym of felyship that was betwene them to telle hym wherefore he asked such thynges.

  ‘Sir, that shall I telle you,’ seyde sir Galahad. ‘Thys othir day, whan we sawe a parte of the adventures of the Sangreall, I was in such joy of herte that I trow never man was erthely. And therefore I wote well, whan my body ys dede, my soule shall be in grete joy to se the Blyssed Trinité every day and the majesté of oure Lorde Jesu Cryste.’

  And so longe were they in the shippe that they seyde to sir Galahad, ‘Sir, in thys bedde ye oughte to lyghe, for so seyth the lettirs.’ And so he layde hym downe, and slepte a grete whyle. And whan he awaked he loked tofore hym and saw the cité of Sarras. And as they wolde have londed they saw the shyp wherein sir Percivall had putte hys syster in.

  ‘Truly,’ seyde sir Percivall, ‘in the name of God, well hath my syster holden us covenaunte.’

  Than toke they oute of the shyppe the table of sylver, and he toke hit to sir Percivale and to sir Bors to go tofore, and sir Galahad com behynde, and ryght so they wente into the cité. And at the gate of the cité they saw an olde man croked, and anone sir Galahad called hym and bade hym helpe ‘to bere thys hevy thynge’.

  ‘Truly,’ seyde the olde man, ‘hit ys ten yere ago that I myght nat go but with crucchis.’

  ‘Care thou nat,’ seyde sir Galahad, ‘aryse up and shew thy good wyll!’

  And so he assayde, and founde hymselff as hole as ever he was. Than ran he to the table and toke one parte ayenst sir Galahad.

  Anone rose there a grete noyse in the cité that a crypple was made hole by knyghtes merveylous that entird into the cité. Than anone aftir the three knyghtes wente to the watir and brought up into the paleyse sir Percivallis syster, and buryed her as rychely as them oughte a kynges doughter.

  And whan the kynge of that contrey knew that and saw that felyship whos name was Estorause, he asked them of whens they were, and what thynge hit was that they had brought uppon the table of sylver. And they told hym the trouth of the Sankgreall, and the power whych God hath sette there.

  Than thys kynge was a grete tirraunte, and was com of the lyne of paynymes, and toke hem and put hem in preson in a depe hole.

  [22] But as sone as they were there, our Lord sente them the Sankgreall, thorow whos grace they were allwey fullfylled whyle they were in preson.

  So at the yerys ende hit befelle that thys kynge lay syke and felte that he sholde dye. Than he sente for the three knyghtes, and they cam afore hym, and he cryed hem mercy of that he had done to them; and they forgave hym goodly, and he dyed anone.

  Whan the kynge was dede all the cité stoode dyssemayde, and wyst nat who myght be her kynge. Ryght so as they were in counceyle, there com a voice downe amonge them and bade hem chose the yongyst knyght of three to be her kynge, ‘for he shall well maynteyne you and all youris’.

  So they made sir Galahad kynge by all the assente of the hole cité, and ellys they wolde have slayne hym. And whan he was com to beholde hys londe he lete make abovyn the table of sylver a cheste of golde and of precious stonys that coverde the holy vessell, and every day erly thes three knyghtes wolde com before hit and make their prayers.

  Now at the yerys ende, and the selff Sonday aftir that sir Galahad had borne the crowne of golde, he arose up erly and hys felowis, and cam to the paleyse, and saw tofore hem the holy vessell, and a man knelyng on his kneys in lyknesse of a bysshop that had aboute hym a grete feliship of angels, as hit had bene Jesu Cryste hymselff. And than he arose and began a masse of oure Lady. And so he cam to the sakerynge, and anone made an ende. He called sir Galahad unto hym and seyde, ‘Com forthe, the servaunte of Jesu Cryste, and thou shalt se that thou hast much desired to se.’

  And than he began to tremble ryght harde wha
n the dedly fleysh began to beholde the spirituall thynges. Than he hylde up his hondis towarde hevyn and seyde, ‘Lorde, I thanke The, for now I se that that hath be my desire many a day. Now, my Blyssed Lorde, I wold nat lyve in this wrecched worlde no lenger, if hit myght please The, Lorde.’

  And therewith the good man toke oure Lordes Body betwyxte hys hondis, profird hit to sir Galahad, and he resseyved hit ryght gladly and mekely.

  ‘Now wotist thou what I am?’ seyde the good man.

  ‘Nay, sir,’ seyde sir Galahad.

  ‘I am Joseph, the sonne of Joseph of Aramathy, which oure Lorde hath sente to the to bere the felyship. And wotyst thou wherefore He hathe sente me more than ony other? For thou hast resembled me in to thynges: that thou hast sene, that ys the mervayles of the Sankgreall, and for thou hast bene a clene mayde as I have be and am.’

  And whan he had seyde thes wordis sir Galahad wente to sir Percivale and kyssed hym and commended hym to God. And so he wente to sir Bors and kyssed hym and commended hym to God and seyde, ‘My fayre lorde, salew me unto my lorde sir Launcelot, my fadir, and as sone as ye se hym bydde hym remembir of this worlde unstable.’

  And therewith he kneled downe tofore the table, and made hys prayers. And so suddeynly departed hys soule to Jesu Cryste, and a grete multitude of angels bare hit up to hevyn evyn in the syght of hys two felowis.

  Also thes two knyghtes saw com frome hevyn an hande, but they sy nat the body, and so hit com ryght to the vessell and toke hit, and the speare, and so bare hit up into hevyn. And sythen was there never man so hardy to sey that he hade seyne the Sankgreal.

  [23] So whan sir Percivale and sir Bors saw sir Galahad dede they made as much sorow as ever ded men. And if they had nat bene good men they myght lyghtly have falle in dispayre. And so people of the contrey and cité, they were ryght hevy. But so he was buryed, and as sone as he was buryed sir Percivale yelded hym to an ermytayge oute of the cité, and toke religious clothyng. And sir Bors was allwey with hym, but he chonged never hys seculer clothyng, for that he purposed hym to go agayne into the realme of Logrus.

  Thus a yere and two monethis lyved sir Percivale in the ermytayge a full holy lyff, and than passed oute of the worlde. Than sir Bors lat bury hym by hys syster and by sir Galahad in the spiritualités.

  So whan sir Bors saw that he was in so farre contreyes as in the partis of Babiloyne, he departed frome the cité of Sarras and armed hym and cam to the see, and entird into a shippe. And so hit befelle hym, by good adventure, he cam unto the realme of Logrus, and so he rode a pace tyll he com to Camelot where the kynge was.

  And than was there made grete joy of hym in all the courte, for they wente he had bene loste forasmuch as he had bene so longe oute of the contrey. And whan they had etyn, the kynge made grete clerkes to com before hym, for cause they shulde cronycle of the hyghe adventures of the good knyghtes. So whan sir Bors had tolde hym of the hyghe aventures of the Sankgreall, such as had befalle hym and his three felowes, which were sir Launcelot, Percivale and sir Galahad and hymselff, than sir Launcelot tolde the adventures of the Sangreall that he had sene. And all thys was made in grete bookes and put up in almeryes at Salysbury.

  And anone sir Bors seyde to sir Launcelot, ‘Sir Galahad, youre owne sonne, salewed you by me, and aftir you my lorde kynge Arthure and all the hole courte. And so ded sir Percivale. For I buryed them both myne owne hondis in the cité of Sarras. Also, sir Launcelot, sir Galahad prayde you to remembir of thys unsyker worlde, as ye behyght hym whan ye were togydirs more than halffe a yere.’

  ‘Thys ys trew,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘now I truste to God hys prayer shall avayle me.’

  Than sir Launcelot toke sir Bors in hys armys and seyde, ‘Cousyn, ye ar ryght wellcom to me! For all that ever I may do for you and for yours, ye shall fynde my poure body redy atte all tymes whyle the spyryte is in hit, and that I promyse you feythfully, and never to fayle. And wete ye well, gentyl cousyn sir Bors, ye and I shall never departe in sundir whylis oure lyvys may laste.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde he, ‘as ye woll, so woll I.’

  THUS ENDITH THE TALE OF THE SANKGREAL THAT WAS BREFFLY DRAWYN OUTE OF FREYNSHE — WHICH YS A TALE CRONYCLED FOR ONE OF THE TREWYST AND OF THE HOLYEST THAT YS IN THYS WORLDE — BY SIR THOMAS MALEORRE, KNYGHT.

  O, BLESSED JESU HELPE HYM THOROW HYS MYGHT! AMEN.

  BOOK VII. THE BOOK OF SIR LAUNCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE

  I. THE POISONED APPLE

  [1] So aftir the queste of the Sankgreall was fulfylled and all knyghtes that were leffte on lyve were com home agayne unto the Table Rounde — as the BOOKE OF THE SANKGREALL makith mencion — than was there grete joy in the courte, and enespeciall kynge Arthure and quene Gwenyvere made grete joy of the remenaunte that were com home. And passyng gladde was the kynge and the quene of sir Launcelot and of sir Bors, for they had bene passynge longe away in the queste of the Sankgreall.

  Than, as the booke seyth, sir Launcelot began to resorte unto quene Gwenivere agayne and forgate the promyse and the perfeccion that he made in the queste; for, as the booke seyth, had nat sir Launcelot bene in his prevy thoughtes and in hys myndis so sette inwardly to the quene as he was in semynge outewarde to God, there had no knyght passed hym in the queste of the Sankgreall. But ever his thoughtis prevyly were on the quene, and so they loved togydirs more hotter than they ded toforehonde, and had many such prevy draughtis togydir that many in the courte spake of hit, and in especiall sir Aggravayne, sir Gawaynes brothir, for he was ever opynne-mowthed.

  So hit befelle that sir Launcelot had many resortis of ladyes and damesels which dayly resorted unto hym to be their champion. In all such maters of ryght sir Launcelot applyed hym dayly to do for the plesure of oure Lorde Jesu Cryst, and ever as much as he myght he withdrew hym fro the company of quene Gwenyvere for to eschew the sclawndir and noyse. Wherefore the quene waxed wrothe with sir Launcelot.

  So on a day she called hym to hir chambir and seyd thus:

  ‘Sir Launcelot, I se and fele dayly that youre love begynnyth to slake, for ye have no joy to be in my presence, but ever ye ar oute of thys courte, and quarels and maters ye have nowadayes for ladyes, madyns and jantillwomen, more than ever ye were wonte to have beforehande.’

  A, madame,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘in thys ye must holde me excused for dyvers causis: one ys, I was but late in the quest of the Sankgreall, and I thanke God of Hys grete mercy, and never of my deservynge, that I saw in that my queste as much as ever saw ony synfull man lyvynge, and so was hit tolde me. And if that I had nat had my prevy thoughtis to returne to youre love agayne as I do, I had sene as grete mysteryes as ever saw my sonne sir Galahad, Percivale, other sir Bors. And therefore, madam, I was but late in that queste, and wyte you well, madam, hit may nat be yet lyghtly forgotyn, the hyghe servyse in whom I dud my dyligente laboure.

  ‘Also, madame, wyte you well that there be many men spekith of oure love in thys courte and have you and me gretely in awayte, as thes sir Aggravayne and sir Mordred. And, madam, wyte you well I drede them more for youre sake than for ony feare I have of them myselffe, for I may happyn to ascape and ryde myselff in a grete nede where, madame, ye muste abyde all that woll be seyde unto you. And than, if that ye falle in ony distresse thorowoute wyllfull foly, than ys there none other helpe but by me and my bloode.

  ‘And wyte you well, madam, the boldenesse of you and me woll brynge us to shame and sclaundir, and that were me lothe to se you dishonoured. And that is the cause I take uppon me more for to do for damesels and maydyns than ever y ded toforne, that men sholde undirstonde my joy and my delite ys my plesure to have ado for damesels and maydyns.’

  All thys whyle the quene stood stylle and lete sir Launcelot sey [2] what he wolde; and whan he had all seyde she braste oute of wepynge, and so she sobbed and awepte a grete whyle. And whan she myght speke she seyde, ‘Sir Launcelot, now I well understonde that thou arte a false, recrayed knyght and a comon lechourere, and lovyste and holdiste othir ladyes, and of me thou haste dysdayne and scorne. For wyte thou
well, now I undirstonde thy falsehede I shall never love the more, and loke thou be never so hardy to com in my syght. And ryght here I dyscharge the thys courte, that thou never com within hit, and I forfende the my felyship, and uppon payne of thy hede that thou se me nevermore!’

  Ryght so sir Launcelot departed with grete hevynes, that unneth he myght susteyne hymselff for grete dole-makynge.

  Than he called sir Bors, Ector de Maris and sir Lyonell, and tolde hem how the quene had forfende hym the courte, and so he was in wyll to departe into hys owne contrey.

  ‘Fayre sir,’ seyde Bors de Ganys, ye shall not departe oute of thys londe by myne advyce, for ye muste remembir you what ye ar, and renomed the moste nobelyst knyght of the worlde, and many grete maters ye have in honde. And women in their hastynesse woll do oftyntymes that aftir hem sore repentith. And therefore, be myne advyce, ye shall take youre horse and ryde to the good ermytayge here besyde Wyndesore, that somtyme was a good knyght, hys name ys sir Brascias. And there shall ye abyde tyll that I sende you worde of bettir tydynges.’

  ‘Brother,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘wyte you well I am full loth to departe oute of thys reallme, but the quene hath defended me so hyghly that mesemyth she woll never be my good lady as she hath bene.’

  ‘Sey ye never so,’ seyde sir Bors, ‘for many tymys or this she hath bene wroth with you, and aftir that she was the first that repented hit.’

  ‘Ye sey well,’ seyde sir Launcelot, ‘for now woll I do by your counceyle and take myne horse and myne harneyse and ryde to the ermyte sir Brastias, and there woll I repose me tille I hyre som maner of tydynges frome you. But, fayre brother, in that ye can, gete me the love of my lady quene Gwenyvere.’

  ‘Sir,’ seyde sir Bors, ye nede nat to meve me of such maters, for well ye wote, I woll do what I may to please you.’

  And than sir Launcelot departed suddeynly, and no creature wyst where he was becom but sir Bors. So whan sir Launcelot was departed the quene outewarde made no maner of sorow in shewyng to none of his bloode nor to none other, but wyte ye well, inwardely, as the booke seythe, she toke grete thought; but she bare hit oute with a proude countenaunce, as thoughe she felte no thought nother daungere.