Part 28 (1/2)

Then, his spear being broken, he drew forth his sword and struck out on the right hand and on the left, at each blow smiting down a man, till the remainder fled, and he pursued them.

Then Sir Percival, knowing that it was Sir Galahad, would fain have overtaken him, but could not, for his horse was slain. Yet followed he on foot as fast as he could go; and as he went there met him a yeoman riding on a palfrey, and leading in his hand a great black steed. So Sir Percival prayed him to lend him the steed, that he might overtake Sir Galahad. But he replied, ”That can I not do, fair sir, for the horse is my master's, and should I lend it he would slay me.” So he departed, and Sir Percival sat down beneath a tree in heaviness of heart. And as he sat, anon a knight went riding past on the black steed which the yeoman had led. And presently after came the yeoman back in haste, and asked Sir Percival if he had seen a knight riding his horse.

”Yea,” said Sir Percival.

”Alas,” said the yeoman, ”he hath reft him from me by strength, and my master will slay me.”

Then he besought Sir Percival to take his hackney and follow, and get back his steed. So he rode quickly, and overtook the knight, and cried, ”Knight, turn again.” Whereat he turned and set his spear, and smote Sir Percival's hackney in the breast, so that it fell dead, and then went on his way. Then cried Sir Percival after him, ”Turn now, false knight, and fight with me on foot”; but he would not, and rode out of sight.

Then was Sir Percival pa.s.sing wroth and heavy of heart, and lay down to rest beneath a tree, and slept till midnight. When he awoke he saw a woman standing by him, who said to him right fiercely, ”Sir Percival, what doest thou here?”

”I do neither good nor evil,” said he.

”If thou wilt promise me,” said she, ”to do my will whenever I shall ask thee, I will bring thee here a horse that will bear thee wheresoever thou desirest.”

At that he was full glad, and promised as she asked. Then anon she came again, with a great black steed, strong and well appareled. So Sir Percival mounted, and rode through the clear moonlight, and within less than an hour had gone a four days' journey, till he came to a rough water that roared; and his horse would have borne him into it, but Sir Percival would not suffer him, yet could he scarce restrain him. And seeing the water so furious, he made the sign of the cross upon his forehead, whereat the horse suddenly shook him off, and with a terrible sound leaped into the water and disappeared, the waves all burning up in flames around him. Then Sir Percival knew it was a fiend which had brought him the horse; so he commended himself to G.o.d, and prayed that he might escape temptations, and continued in prayer till it was day.

Then he saw that he was on a wild mountain, nigh surrounded on all sides by the sea, and filled with wild beasts; and going on into a valley, he saw a serpent carrying a young lion by the neck. With that came another lion, crying and roaring after the serpent, and anon overtook him, and began to battle with him. And Sir Percival helped the lion, and drew his sword, and gave the serpent such a stroke that it fell dead. Thereat the lion fawned upon him like a dog, licking his hands, and crouching at his feet, and at night lay down by him and slept at his side.

And at noon the next day Sir Percival saw a s.h.i.+p come sailing before a strong wind upon the sea towards him, and he rose and went towards it.

And when it came to sh.o.r.e, he found it covered with white samite, and on the deck there stood an old man dressed in priest's robes, who said, ”G.o.d be with you, fair sir; whence come ye?”

”I am a knight of King Arthur's court,” said he, ”and follow the quest of the Sangreal; but here have I lost myself in this wilderness.”

”Fear nothing,” said the old man, ”for I have come from a strange country to comfort thee.”

Then he told Sir Percival it was a fiend of h.e.l.l upon which he had ridden to the sea, and that the lion, whom he had delivered from the serpent, meant the Church. And Sir Percival rejoiced at these tidings, and entered into the s.h.i.+p, which presently sailed from the sh.o.r.e into the sea.

Now when Sir Bors rode forth from Camelot to seek the Sangreal, anon he met a holy man riding on an a.s.s, and courteously saluted him.

”Who are ye, son?” said the good man.

”I am a knight,” said he, ”in quest of the Sangreal, and would fain have thy counsel, for he shall have much earthly honor who may bring it to a favorable end.”

”That is truth,” said the good man, ”for he shall be the best knight of the world; yet know that none shall gain it save by sinless living.”

So they rode to his hermitage together, and there he prayed Sir Bors to abide that night, and anon they went into the chapel, and Sir Bors was confessed. And they eat bread and drank water together.

”Now,” said the hermit, ”I pray thee eat no other food till thou sit at the table where the Sangreal shall be.” Thereto Sir Bors agreed.

”Also,” said the hermit, ”it were wise that ye should wear a sackcloth garment next your skin, for penance”; and in this also did Sir Bors as he was counseled. And afterwards he armed himself and took his leave.

Then rode he onwards all that day, and as he rode he saw a pa.s.sing great bird sit in an old dry tree, whereon no leaves were left; and many little birds lay round the great one, nigh dead with hunger. Then did the big bird smite himself with his own bill, and bled till he died amongst his little ones, and they recovered life in drinking up his blood. When Sir Bors saw this he knew it was a token, and rode on full of thought. And about eventide he came to a tower, whereto he prayed admission, and he was received gladly by the lady of the castle. But when a supper of many meats and dainties was set before him, he remembered his vow, and bade a squire to bring him water, and therein he dipped his bread, and ate.

Then said the lady, ”Sir Bors, I fear ye like not my meat.”

”Yea, truly,” said he; ”G.o.d thank thee, madam; but I may eat no other meat this day.”

After supper came a squire, and said, ”Madam, bethink thee to provide a champion for thee to-morrow for the tourney, or else shall thy sister have thy castle.”

At that the lady wept, and made great sorrow. But Sir Bors prayed her to be comforted, and asked her why the tournament was held. Then she told him how she and her sister were the daughters of King Anianse, who left them all his lands between them; and how her sister was the wife of a strong knight, named Sir Pridan le Noir, who had taken from herself all her lands, save the one tower wherein she dwelt. ”And now,” said she, ”this also will they take, unless I find a champion by to-morrow.”