The Quest of the Holy Grail

   Now the story tells that after Galahad had left his companions, he rode for three or four days without encountering any adventure worthy of mention. And on the fifth day after the vesper hour it happened that his path brought him to an abbey of White Friars. On his arrival he knocked at the gate and the friars came out and helped him to dismount with much courtesy, as knowing that he was a knight errant. While one took his horse, another led him into a hall on the ground floor to disarm him. And when they had relieved him of his arms, he beheld two of the companions of the Round Table, of whom one was King Bademagus and the other Yvain the Avoltres. And as soon as they espied him and recognised him, they ran to him with outstretched arms to welcome him joyfully, for they were very happy to have found him. When they had made themselves known to him, he too showed his joy at meeting them and honoured them as those whom he ought to regard as brothers and companions.
   That evening when they had eaten and had gone to enjoy themselves in a beautiful garden of the abbey, they sat down under a tree and Galahad asked them what adventure had brought them there. "In truth, sire," they replied, "we came here to witness an adventure which is very marvellous, judging from what we have been told. For there is in this abbey a shield which no one can hang about his neck with the intention of carrying it away without there befalling him on the first or second day either death or an injury or some other mischance. So we have come to see if it is true as we have been told." "For my part I wish to try to carry it off in the morning," said King Bademagus, "and then I shall know if the adventure is as it is described to us." "In God's name," said Galahad, "you tell me a marvellous thing, if this shield is such as you say. And if you cannot carry it off, it is I who shall do so, for I have no shield."
   "Then, sire, we shall leave it to you," they said, "for we know full well that you will not fail in this adventure." "I consent," said he, "that you try it first, in order to learn if what they have told you is true or not." So to this they all agreed. That night the companions were served and regaled with all that the friars could command; and the friars showed great honour to Galahad when they heard the testimony which the two knights bore him. So they gave him a rich and noble bed fitting for such a man as he. And near him lay King Bademagus and his companion.
   The next day when they had heard mass, King Bademagus asked one of the friars where the shield was of which there was so much talk over the country. "Why do you inquire, sire?" asked the worthy man. "Because I shall carry it off with me to see whether it possess such qualities as they say," he replied. "I advise you not to carry it off," the friar said, "for nothing but shame would come to you." "Nevertheless," he replied, "I wish to know where it is and what it is like." Then the other took him behind the High Altar, and there he found a white shield with a red cross. "Sire," said the worthy man, "behold the shield you inquire for." Then the knights looked at it and said they thought it the finest and richest shield they had ever seen; and it smelt as sweet as if all the spices in the world were spread upon it. When Yvain the Avoltres saw it, he said: "So help me God, this is the shield which no one is to hang about his neck unless he is a better knight than all the rest. And it will never hang about my neck, for surely I am not so valiant or so worthy that I should hang it about my neck." "In God's name," said King Bademagus, "whatever may happen to me, I will carry it off from here!" Then he hung it about his neck and carried it out of the church. And when he came to his horse, he said to Galahad: "Sire, if it please you, I should like you to wait for me here until I can inform you how this adventure will turn out for me. If some mischance should befall me, I should like you to know of it; for I know very well that you could accomplish the adventure easily." "I am very willing to wait for you," Galahad replied. Then he mounted at once, and the friars gave him a squire to accompany him and to bring back the shield if necessary.
   Thus Galahad stayed behind with Yvain to bear him company until he should learn the result of the adventure. And King Bademagus who started out with the squire rode two leagues and more until he came to a hermitage which lay at the bottom of a valley. Looking toward the hermitage, he saw approaching from that direction a knight in white armour riding as fast as his horse could carry him; he held his lance extended before him and came thrusting at him. As soon as he saw him approach, he turned toward him and broke over him his lance which flew in pieces. And the white knight, who had caught him unprotected, struck him so hard that he broke the mail of his hauberk and thrust his lance head through his left shoulder, striking him as one who had plenty of courage and strength, and knocking him from his horse. And when he fell, the knight took the shield from his neck and said so loudly that both he and the squire could hear: "Sir knight, you were foolish and rash to hang this shield about your neck. For no man is permitted to carry it unless he be the best knight in the world. And because of the sin you have committed Our Lord has sent me here to take vengeance suited to the crime." Having said this, he came up to the squire and said: "Here, take this shield to the servant of Jesus Christ, to the good knight named Galahad whom thou didst leave at the abbey; and tell him that the High Master bids him carry it. For he will always find it as fresh and as sound as it is at present, and for this reason he should value it highly. And give him my greetings as soon as thou seest him." And the valet asked him: "Sire, what is your name, that I may tell him when I come to him?" "My name," he answered, "thou mayst not know; for it is something that must not be told to thee or any mortal man; with so much thou must be satisfied. But do as I command thee." "Sire," said the valet, "since you will not tell me your name, I pray and conjure you by what you hold most dear to tell me the truth about this shield, how it was brought into this country and why so many marvels are connected with it. For no man in our time has been able to hang it about his neck without mischief befalling him." "Thou hast urged me so," the knight replied, "that I will tell thee. But it shall not be to thee alone; rather I wish thee to bring me the knight to whom thou shalt take the shield." And the valet said he would do so, but he added: "Where can we find you when we come this way?" "In this very place you will find me," was the reply. Then the valet went to King Bademagus and asked him if he was much wounded. "Yes, truly," the king replied, "so seriously that I cannot escape death." "Can you ride a horse?" the valet asked. And he answered that he would try to do so. So he got up, wounded as he was, and the valet supported him to where the horse was from which the king had fallen. Then the king got up in front and the valet behind to hold him about the waist; for he thought he would fall otherwise, as indeed he would have done.
   So they left the place where the king had been wounded and rode until they reached the abbey from which they had recently set out. And when the inmates learned that they were approaching, they came out to meet them. They helped King Bademagus from his horse and took him to a room and took good care of his wound, which was deep and serious. Then Galahad asked one of the friars who was caring for him: "Sire, do you think he can recover? For it seems to me it would be too bad if he should die as the result of this adventure." "Sire," the friar replied, "he will recover, if God wills. But I tell you, he is very badly wounded, though he ought not to be greatly pitied. For we told him that if he carried off the shield, evil would befall him; yet he carried it off in spite of our advice, which was very foolish on his part." Now when the friars had done all they could for him, the valet said to Galahad in the hearing of all present: "Sire, greetings from the good knight with the white armour, who wounded King Bademagus, and who sent you this shield! He bids you to carry it henceforth, in the name of the High Master. For there is no one, as he said, except you alone who should carry it. Therefore he has sent it to you. And if you wish to know whence these great adventures have so often come about, come to him with me, and he will tell us according to his promise."
   When the friars heard this piece of news, they bowed low before Galahad, and blessed the good fortune that had brought him that way: for now they were persuaded that the great and perilous adventures would be brought to an end. And Yvain the Avoltres said: "My lord Galahad, put about your neck this shield, which was intended for none other than you. So shall my desire be in some measure accomplished: for surely I desired nothing so much as to know the Good Knight who should bear the lordship of this shield." Then Galahad replied that he would place it about his neck, since it had been sent to him, but first he wished his arms to be brought to him; so he asked for them, and they were brought. When he was armed and mounted upon his horse, he hung the shield about his neck and departed, commending the friars to God. And when Yvain the Avoltres was armed again and mounted upon his horse, he announced that he would bear Galahad company. But he answered that this could not be, for he would go alone with the valet. So thus they parted and each went his way.
   Yvain struck into the forest, while Galahad and the valet journeyed until they found the knight with the white arms whom the valet had seen before. And when he saw Galahad approach, he went to meet him and greeted him, and Galahad greeted him as courteously as he could. After engaging in some familiar talk, Galahad said to the knight: "Sire, I have heard that many marvellous adventures have come to pass in this country because of this shield which I am wearing. So I would kindly and frankly beg of you to tell me the truth, how and why all this has happened, for I am sure that you know." "Certainly, I will tell you gladly," said the knight; "for I know the truth full well. So listen, Galahad, if you please.
   "Forty-two years after the Passion of Jesus Christ it came about that Joseph of Arimathæa, the gentle knight who took down Our Lord from the true and holy Cross, departed from the city of Jerusalem with a large number of his relatives. And they journeyed as they were directed by Our Lord's command until they came to the city of Sarraz, which a Saracen, King Ewalach, held. Now when Joseph reached Sarraz, Ewalach was at war with a rich and powerful neighbouring king, named Tholomer, whose lands bordered upon his own. And when Ewalach was ready to go against Tholomer, who required of him his land, Josephe the son of Joseph said to him that if he went to battle ill-prepared as he was, he would be discomfited and put to shame by his enemy. 'What then is your advice?' Ewalach inquired. 'I will tell you,' he replied. Then he began to expose to him the features of the new dispensation and the truth of the gospel and of the crucifixion of Our Lord and of the resurrection, and he had a shield brought whereon he attached a cross of silk, and said: 'King Ewalach, now I will show you clearly how you may recognise the power and virtue of the true Crucified One. It is true that this caitif Tholomer will have the mastery over you for three days and three nights and will bring you into the fear of death. But when you think that you cannot longer escape, then uncover the cross and say: "Fair Lord God, of whose death I bear the sign, deliver me from this peril, and lead me safe and sound to receive your faith and trust."'
   "Then the king left and started to attack Tholomer. And it happened to him as Josephe had said. But when he saw himself in such peril that he thought he must surely die he uncovered his shield and saw portrayed in the midst of it a man crucified who was bathed in blood. Then he uttered the words which Josephe had taught him, whereupon the victory and honour rested with him and he was delivered from the hands of his enemies and he triumphed over Tholomer and all his men. And when he had returned to the city of Sarraz, he told all the people how Josephe had spoken the truth, and he so showed forth the power of the Crucified One that Nascien consented to receive baptism. And while they were baptising him a Christian, it happened that a man passed by who had one hand cut off which he was carrying in his other hand. When Josephe called him, he drew near. And as soon as he had touched the cross upon the shield, his hand which he had lost was healed. Then happened another marvellous thing. For the cross on the shield left its place and adhered to the man's arm so that it was no more to be seen on the shield. Then Ewalach received baptism and became a servant of Jesus Christ, and held him in great love and reverence and had the shield very carefully preserved.
   "Afterwards it came about, when Josephe had left Sarraz with his father and they had arrived in Great Britain, that they encountered a wicked and cruel king who threw them both into prison, together with a numerous company of Christians. The report soon spread abroad that Josephe was in prison, for there was then no man in the world of greater fame, and even King Mordrain heard the news. So he summoned his men and retainers to join him and his brother-in-law Nascien and they came to Great Britain and attacked him who held Josephe in prison. And they totally defeated him and confounded all those of the country, so that holy Christianity was spread in the land. So great was their love for Josephe that they never left the country, but stayed with him and followed him wherever he went. Now when Josephe came to his death-bed and Ewalach knew that he must leave the world, he came before him weeping tenderly and said: 'Sire, now that you are leaving me, I shall remain all alone in this country, having resigned for your sake my native land and the satisfaction of living among my own people. For God's sake, since you must leave this world, give me some tokens to serve me after your death as a remembrance.' 'Sire,' said Josephe, 'that will I do.'
   "Then he began to think what he could leave him. And when he had thought for some time, he said: 'King Ewalach, send for that shield which I gave thee when thou didst go to battle against Tholomer.' The king said he would do so gladly, for the shield was close by, being the one he took with him wherever he went. So he had the shield brought to Josephe, when straightway Josephe began to bleed severely at the nose so that it could not be stanched. But taking at once the shield, he made upon it with his blood the cross which you here behold: for you must know this is the very same shield of which I am telling you. And when he had made the cross as you can see it here, he said to him: 'Behold this shield which I leave you as a remembrance of me. You shall never see this shield but it shall remind you of me, for you know that this cross is made with my blood which will always remain as fresh and crimson as you see it now so long as the shield endure. And it will endure for a long time; because no one will hang it about his neck, even though he be a knight, who will not repent of it, until Galahad the Good Knight, last of the line of Nascien, shall hang it about his neck. So let no one seek to wear it except the one destined by God. Moreover, it has such properties that, just as in this shield greater marvels have been seen than in any other, just so there shall be seen in him more marvellous prowess and a nobler life than in any other knight.' 'Since you are to leave me such a good remembrance,' the king replied, 'tell me, if you please, where I shall leave this shield. For I should like it to be put in such a place as the Good Knight may find it.' 'Then I shall tell you,' said Josephe, 'what to do. Put the shield where you see Nascien laid after his death: for thither the Good Knight will come on the fifth day after he receives the order of chivalry.'
   "Now it has all happened as he said, for on the fifth day after receiving knighthood you have come to this abbey where Nascien lies. So now I have told you why the great adventures happened to the foolhardy knights who in spite of this prohibition wished to carry off the shield which was vouchsafed to you alone."
   And when he had told this story, he disappeared so that Galahad knew not what had become of him nor whither he had gone. When the valet who was present had heard this strange story, he dismounted from his nag and fell at the feet of Galahad, begging him in tears for the love of Him whose sign he carried on his shield to permit him to go with him as his squire and to make him a knight. "Certainly," said Galahad, "if I wished for any company, I would not refuse thee." "For God's sake, sire," the valet said, "I beg of you then to make me a knight, and I promise you that knighthood shall be well served by me, if God will." Galahad wept softly as he looked at him; and because of the great pity he felt, he granted him his request. "Sire," said the valet, "return to the place we started from, for there I shall get arms and a horse. And this you ought to do, not only for my sake, but because of an adventure there, which no one else can achieve, but I know that you will do so." And Galahad said he would gladly go.
   So he returned at once to the abbey. And when the friars saw him return, they were very glad and inquired of the valet why the knight had come back. "To make me a knight," said he; and for his sake they were very glad. Then the Good Knight asked where the adventure was to be found. "Sire," they said, "do you know what this adventure is?" "Not in the least," he replied. "Then you must know," they said, "that it is a voice which issues from one of the tombs in our cemetery. And it is of such strength that anyone who hears it loses his bodily powers for a long time afterward." Then Galahad inquired, "Do you know whose voice this is?" "No," they answered, "unless it is the devil's." "Then lead me thither," said he, "for I am very anxious to learn the truth about it." "Then you must come along with us." Then they escorted him outside the church all armed as he was, but without his helmet. And one of the friars said to him: "Do you see that great tree with the tomb beneath it?" "Yes," said he. "I will tell you, then, what to do," said one of the friars: "go to the tomb and raise the lid, and I promise you shall find under it some marvellous thing." Then Galahad approached and heard a voice utter a marvellously dolorous cry, and it said so loudly that all could hear: "Ah, Galahad! servant of Jesus Christ, approach me not, for thou wouldst make me move from where I have been so long." Now Galahad, hearing that, was not afraid, but went to the tomb. And when he tried to seize it by the heavy end, he saw smoke come forth and a flame after it, and he saw emerge the most hideous face that ever bore human semblance. Then he crossed himself, knowing this was the devil. And he heard a voice saying to him: "Ah, Galahad! holy creature, I see thee so compassed about with angels that my power cannot prevail against thy might: I leave this place to thee." Hearing this, he crossed himself again and thanked Our Lord. Then he raised up the lid of the tomb and saw lying there a body fully armed, with a sword alongside and all that was needed to create a knight. Seeing these things, he summoned the friars, saying: "Come, see what I have found, and tell me what I shall do, for I am ready to do more, if so I must." And when they drew near, they saw the body lying in the grave and said to him: "Sire, there is nothing more to be done, for this body which lies here shall never be moved from its place according to our belief." "Yes, it shall be," said the old man who had told Galahad of this adventure; "the body must be taken from this cemetery and cast out, for this ground is holy and sanctified; wherefore the body of a wicked and false Christian must not remain here." Then he ordered the servants to remove the body from the grave and to cast it out of the cemetery, and they did so. Then Galahad said to the worthy man: "Sire, have I accomplished all of this adventure which I ought to do?" "Yes," he replied, "for never again shall be heard the voice which has brought us so much woe." "And do you know," Galahad inquired, "why so many marvels have come to pass?" "Yes, indeed, sire," he replied, "and I will tell you gladly; for you ought to understand it as being a matter of great significance."
   Thereupon they left the cemetery and returned to the abbey. And Galahad told the valet that he must keep watch that night in the church and that on the morrow he would make him a knight, as was right. And he replied that he had no other wish. So he prepared himself as instructed to receive the high order of chivalry which he so much desired. But the worthy man took Galahad into a room where he relieved him of his arms and armour. Then making him sit down on a bed, he said to him: "Sire, you asked me the meaning of this adventure which you have just achieved, and I will gladly explain it to you. In this adventure there were three things which gave cause for fear: the tomb itself which was not easy to open, the body of the knight which had to be cast out, and the voice which caused all who heard it to lose their bodily strength and their senses and memory. Now of these three things I will tell you the meaning.
   "The tomb which enclosed the dead body signifies the hardness of this world which Our Lord encountered when He came to earth and found nothing but hardness there. For the son did not love the father, nor the father the son, wherefore the devil carried them all off to hell. When the Father in Heaven saw that there was such hardness on earth that one man did not know another nor believe another nor the words of the prophet, but that on the other hand they set up new gods each day, He sent His Son to earth to soften this hardness and to give sinners new and tender hearts. But when He came down to earth, He found them so hardened in mortal sin that one might as soon soften a rock as their hearts. Wherefore He said by the mouth of the prophet David: 'My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death'; as if to say: 'Father, thou hast converted very few of this people before my death.' And as the Father sent His Son to deliver His people, so the same situation is renewed to-day. For just as error and folly took flight at His coming and the truth was plainly manifested, so Our Lord has chosen you above all other knights to send into strange lands to put an end to dire adventures and to learn their source. Wherefore your coming may be compared with that of Jesus Christ, but in appearance rather than in degree. And just as the prophets a long time before He came prophesied that He would come and said that He would deliver the people from the bonds of hell, so have hermits and holy men announced your coming for more than twenty years. And they have all said that the adventures of the kingdom of Logres would never cease until you came. But, thank God, we have waited until now we have you."
   "Now tell me," said Galahad, "what the dead body signifies; for you have made clear the meaning of the tomb." "That too I will explain," said he. "The dead body signifies the people whose heart had been so long hardened that they were all as if dead and blinded by the great weight of the sins they had committed day after day. And that they were blind appeared plainly when Jesus Christ was manifested. For when they had in their midst the King of kings and the Saviour of the world, they regarded Him as a sinner and thought He was even as they were. And they trusted rather in the devil than in Him, and they delivered His body to death at the instigation of the devil who was constantly whispering in their ears and who had entered into their hearts. Thus for these their works Vespasian overwhelmed and destroyed them as soon as he learned the truth about the Prophet to whom they had proved disloyal; thus they were destroyed by the devil and his counsel.
   "Now we must see how these two instances agree. The tomb signifies the great hardness of the Jews, while the dead body signifies them and their descendants who came to their death through mortal sin from which they could not easily release themselves. And the voice which issued from the tomb signifies the doleful words they spoke to Pilate the governor: 'His blood be upon us and upon our children!' And because of this saying they were put to shame and lost themselves and all that they had. Thus you can see in this adventure the significance of the Passion of Jesus Christ and the likeness of His coming. One other thing happened in former times: for as soon as the knights-errant used to come and approach the tomb, the devil, who knew them to be vile and corrupt sinners and saw that they were wrapped in luxury and iniquity, frightened them so with his horrible and terrible voice that they lost their bodily power. Nor would the adventure ever have ceased to discomfit the sinners, if God had not brought you to carry it through. But as soon as you arrived, the devil, who knew you to be pure and as free from every sin as mortal man can be, dared not wait for you, but fled and lost all his power through your advent. Then concluded the adventure which many a noted knight had tried. So now I have told you the truth about this matter." And Galahad said that it had much greater significance than he had thought.
   That night the friars did their best to serve Galahad. And in the morning he made the valet a knight in accordance with the custom of those days. When he had done all he ought for him, he asked him what his name was. And he said his name was Melyant and that he was the son of the King of Denmark. "Fair friend," said Galahad, "now that you are a knight and since you are descended from the high lineage of a king and queen, see to it that chivalry be so worthily shown forth in you that the honour of your lineage may be preserved. For as soon as a king's son receives the order of chivalry, he ought to outshine all other knights in goodness as the rays of the sun outshine the stars." Then he replied that, if it please God, the honour of chivalry would be safe with him; for he would never fall short of his duty because of any pain he might have to bear. Then Galahad called for his arms, and when they were brought, Melyant said to him: "Sire, thanks to God and to you, you have made me a knight, which gives me more joy than I can say; and you know that it is a custom that whoever makes another man a knight must not refuse to grant him the first request he makes, provided the request be reasonable." "That is true," Galahad replied, "but why do you say it?" "Because I wish to ask for a boon," said he; "and I beg you to grant it to me, for it is something from which no harm can come to you." "I will grant it to you," said Galahad, "even were it to my cost." "Many thanks," said Melyant; "now I ask you to let me accompany you on this Quest until fate separate us, and afterward, if we are brought together again, do not deprive me of your company to bestow it upon another."
   Then he ordered a horse to be brought in order to depart with Galahad; and when this was done, they went off together. All day they rode, and all that week. And it happened on a Tuesday morning that they came to a cross where there was a parting of the ways. Coming to the cross they found words which were cut in the wood and which said: Give heed, thou knight who seekest adventures; here are two roads, one to the right and the other to the left. I forbid thee to take the left, for he must be an exceptionally worthy man who enters there with the expectation of coming through. And if thou takest the right-hand road, thou art likely to perish soon. When Melyant saw this inscription, he said to Galahad: "Ah! Generous knight, for God's sake let me take this left-hand road, for then I shall be able to try my strength and learn if there be in me such prowess and courage as shall gain me the praise of chivalry." "If you were willing," said Galahad, "I would take that road myself, for I think I should fare better than you." But the other said that he would take it, if anyone did. So they parted, and each went his way. Now the story takes leave of Galahad and tells how it fared with Melyant.