Perceval

AND KNOW THIS: no king ever held so great a court or so great a feast as did King Arthur. And no king ever earned such love from his barons as he; and Arthur himself was the fairest man and the finest knight known. And because he was such a valiant king, and bestowed such handsome gifts, he became so renowned that throughout the world no-one spoke of anyone but him, so that all knights made their way to his court to see him and to be in his company. No man’s deeds of chivalry were held in any esteem until he had spent a year in Arthur’s household and received a sleeve or pennon from the king.

Thus it was that his renown was universal, and reached the land where Alain li Gros was living; and he set his heart on sending his son Perceval to Arthur’s court when the time came to give him arms. He often said to him: ‘When you grow up, dear son, I shall take you with the greatest pride to the court of King Arthur!’

So he said many times, until it pleased Our Lord that Alain li Gros should pass from this world. And when he was dead, Perceval decided to go to Arthur’s court; and one day he armed himself handsomely, mounted a hunting-horse and set off so quietly that his mother did not know. When she realised Perceval had gone she lamented terribly, and was sure the wild beasts of the forest would devour him. The thought of this so overwhelmed her with grief that she died.

Meanwhile Perceval rode on till he reached the court of the great King Arthur; and he came before him and greeted him most nobly in the presence of his barons, and said that if it pleased him he would gladly stay and join his household. The king accepted him and made him a knight; and there at court Perceval grew much in wisdom and courtesy – for you may be sure that when he left his mother’s house he knew nothing. Indeed he proved his worth so much to the other barons that he later became a knight of the Round Table, and was much loved at court. Later there came Saigremor and Yvain, King Urien’s son; and another Yvain, of the white hands; and Dodinial, son of the lady of Malehaut; and Mordred, Arthur’s nephew, who was later to commit great treachery, as you will hear; and Guirres his brother, and Garries and Gawain. These four were the sons of King Lot of Orkney, and King Arthur was their uncle. And after them came Lancelot of the Lake, a knight of the highest stature. So many more knights gathered there that I cannot name them all; but I can tell you that there were so many good knights at King Arthur’s court that throughout the world men spoke only of the fine chivalry at the great King Arthur’s Round Table.

The time came when Arthur remembered Merlin’s words to him; and he came before his barons and knights and said: ‘My lords, you must all return here at Pentecost, for on that day I shall hold the greatest feast ever held by any king in any land. And I want each man here to bring his wife, for I wish the highest honour to be paid to the Round Table, which Merlin established in the time of my father Utherpendragon. The twelve peers of my court will sit in the twelve seats; but I want you to know that all who attend my feast and wish to stay with me will be forever of the company of the Round Table, and as a mark of high honour wherever they may go, each will carry the Round Table’s pennon or device.’

This announcement caused a great stir, and all the barons of the court were overjoyed, for they longed to be known as members of the Round Table. With that they departed, each to his own land, while Arthur remained at Logres, thinking deeply about how he could further enhance the Round Table’s reputation.

At Pentecost every knight from every land gathered for King Arthur’s feast; for I tell you, Arthur was held in such esteem that even those who were not his vassals would have considered themselves dishonoured and would not have dared show themselves at court or in the presence of worthy men if they failed to attend King Arthur’s court at Pentecost. So many came from every land that no man could record them all.

Then the day of Pentecost arrived, and Arthur came to the Round Table and had mass sung in the presence of everyone. And when the mass was ended, the king took the twelve peers and bade them sit in the twelve seats; the thirteenth remained empty, symbolising the place where Judas had sat before he rose [to go and betray Christ].1 Merlin had left it empty at Utherpendragon’s table, and for that reason Arthur did not dare to fill it.

On that day of Pentecost the king’s feast was great indeed; and the knights of the Round Table dressed him in royal robes and set the crown upon his head and honoured him as he deserved. With more than seven hundred censers of fine gold they censed the air wherever he walked, and scattered flowers2 and mint before him: they paid him all possible respect. Then the king declared that everyone present at his feast should be clad in the same robes and devices, and as soon as the command was given it was done. And so many knights and damsels were there that the king presented five thousand four hundred robes and devices of the Round Table. With that the king summoned the water3 with a fanfare of a hundred trumpets, and then all the knights sat down to dine.

And Arthur, with crown on head and robed in gold, was much admired by all who had not seen him before, and indeed, was wondrously esteemed by all who beheld him that day.

When the meal was done the king gave orders for the tables to be cleared, and everyone went out into the fields to tourney. You would then have seen ladies and damsels climb the towers and lean on the battlements to watch the knights jousting amid great festivity. That day the knights of the Round Table jousted against those from elsewhere; and they were closely watched by the ladies and damsels – and so fought all the harder, for there was scarcely a knight who did not have his sister or his wife or his lover present. And be assured, that day the knights of the Round Table carried off the prize, for Sir Gawain, son of King Lot, fought mightily, as did Kay the seneschal who was Entor’s son, and Urgan, a very bold knight, and Saigremor and Lancelot of the Lake, and Erec who was a fine knight indeed. They jousted on until they vanquished the outsiders, and when evening came they had won the prize. All through the day the valiant King Arthur was mounted on a palfrey, baton in hand, and rode between the ranks to keep order and prevent any interference. With him was Perceval, the son of Alain li Gros, who was most upset that he had not taken part in the tournament, but he had wounded his hand and could not joust. Instead he accompanied Arthur all day, along with Guirres and Garries, who were brothers to Sir Gawain and sons of King Lot. All day these three were with the king, and they went to see the ladies and damsels as they watched the jousting; and the daughter of King Lot of Orkney, Sir Gawain’s sister, whose name was Elainne, and who was the most beautiful damsel then alive, saw Perceval the Welshman and was smitten with the deepest love for him. How could she help it? For he was the most handsome knight in all King Arthur’s company.

At evening the tournament broke up, and the knights and damsels turned to dancing and the most joyful festivities. But Sir Gawain’s sister Elainne could think of nothing but Perceval the Welshman: she loved him desperately. And when night came the knights went to their lodgings or their tents, but Elainne could not rest. She called a boy and sent him to Perceval with the message that Elainne, Sir Gawain’s sister, greeted him most nobly and much desired to see him joust against the Round Table. And she bade him, by the faith he owed, to joust in the morning before her in red arms which she would send him. Perceval was taken aback by this, but his heart was filled with joy that such a worthy damsel as King Lot’s daughter should bid him take up arms for love of her and joust against the Round Table. He sent back word that, for love of her, he would do anything the damsel asked: ‘I will joust tomorrow, most willingly.’

The messenger was delighted, and returned to the damsel with Perceval’s reply. And the damsel, overjoyed, fetched the arms and sent them to Perceval, who was mightily pleased with them. You may be sure that he slept very little that night.

Next morning the king rose and went with his barons to hear mass. When mass had been said the twelve peers went to eat at the Round Table, where they were well served: Arthur did them all possible honour. He bade a fanfare be sounded as the water was brought, and then the knights sat down to dine throughout the hall, and they were well served indeed. The story does not tell of the dishes they ate, but I can assure you they had whatever they asked for; and when they had eaten the king called for the tables to be cleared, and the ladies and damsels went out to the fields to see the jousting and celebrations of the Round Table.

Sir Gawain’s sister Elainne was there, desperate to see Perceval clad in the arms she had sent him. And the knights who wanted to joust and win the prize rode from Carduel and joined in combat with those of the Round Table. So the festivities began once more, and none so great had there ever been. And be assured that Lancelot of the Lake – along with Gawain and Sir Yvain, the son of King Urien – overcame all the outsiders. Then it was that Perceval the Welshman came, finely clad in the arms that the damsel had sent him, and he charged full tilt at Saigremor, aiming straight at his shield; and when Saigremor saw him he turned towards him, and with their horses at full gallop they dealt each other such blows on their shields that their lances flew into splinters. But Perceval the Welshman, who knew what jousting was about, smashed into horse and man together, so that Saigremor did not know what had hit him and was sent flying, crashing to the ground in the middle of the field so heavily that everyone who saw him thought he must be dead. And Perceval took his horse and presented it to Elainne, who received it with the utmost joy. And know this: Perceval performed so well that day that he outfought all the knights of the Round Table, defeating Kay the seneschal, Yvain the son of King Urien, and Lancelot of the Lake, and they all declared that he should fill the empty place at the Round Table. And the king, who was valiant and wise, came to Perceval and said to him: ‘Sir knight, I wish you to reside with me from this time on, to be a knight of my household and of the Round Table. You may be sure I shall pay you the utmost honour.’

And Perceval replied: ‘Many thanks, sire.’

And with that Perceval took off his helmet; and the king recognised him and was astonished, and asked him why he had not been armed the day before and why he was now in disguise. And Perceval said: ‘Sire, I’d like you to keep it secret, but let’s just say that I did it for love – and if I’d had a choice, I’d have done quite differently.’

When the king heard this he began to laugh, and pardoned him kindly, saying that things done for love should be freely forgiven. And Sir Gawain and Yvain and Lancelot and all the knights of the Round Table agreed. Then Perceval told the king that he was eager to see the Round Table and those who sat there.

‘Dear friend,’ the king replied, ‘you may do so tomorrow.’

‘It will give me great pleasure,’ said Perceval.

With that their conversation ended. That night there was a great feast, and in the morning the barons assembled to hear mass; and when mass had been said they all came to the place where stood the Round Table. The king bade them be seated; and when they had done so, one place remained empty. Perceval asked the king what was special about the empty seat, and the king replied: ‘My dear friend, it has great significance, for it is the place destined for the finest knight in the world.’

Perceval longed to sit there; and he said to the king: ‘Sire, grant me permission to take that seat.’

But the king replied that he should not do so, for great misfortune might befall him; for a false disciple had once sat in the empty place and the earth had swallowed him in an instant.

‘Even if I were to grant you permission, you ought not to sit there.’

But Perceval was aggrieved at this and said: ‘So help me God, unless you give me leave, my lord king, I swear I shall no longer be a knight of your household.’

When Gawain heard this he was most upset, for he loved Perceval dearly, and he said to the king: ‘Sire, give him leave to sit there.’

Lancelot made the same plea, and the twelve peers likewise, imploring him so fervently that the king – most reluctantly – agreed, saying: ‘I grant your wish.’

Perceval was overjoyed; and he stepped forward, crossing himself in the name of the Holy Spirit, and sat in the empty seat. And the moment he did so the stone split beneath him, uttering such an anguished groan that it seemed to all those present that the earth itself was crumbling into an abyss. And with the earth’s groan came so great a darkness that for a league and more no man could see his neighbour. And then a voice rang out, crying:

‘King Arthur, you have committed the gravest wrong of any king who ever reigned in Britain, for you have disobeyed the command that Merlin gave you. And know that Perceval here has shown more audacity than any man who ever lived, and it will cost him and all the knights of the Round Table the greatest suffering in the world. Were it not for the goodness of his father Alain li Gros and his grandfather Bron, who is known as the Fisher King, he would have fallen into the abyss and died the terrible death that Moyse suffered when he wrongfully sat in the place that Joseph had forbidden him.

‘But hear this, King Arthur: Our Lord sends you word that the vessel which He gave Joseph in prison is here in this land, and is called the Grail. And the Fisher King has fallen into a great sickness and infirmity, and will never be healed – nor will the stone be mended in the place where Perceval sat at the Round Table – until one of the knights seated here has performed enough feats of arms and goodness and prowess. When such a knight is exalted above all other men and is counted the finest knight in the world, when he has achieved so much, then God will guide him to the house of the rich Fisher King. And then, when he has asked what this Grail is for and who is served with it, then, when he has asked that question, the Fisher King will be healed, and the stone will mend beneath the place at the Round Table, and the enchantments which now lie upon the land of Britain will be cast out.’

When the king and those seated at the Round Table heard this they were filled with wonder, and all declared that they would never rest until they had found the house of the rich Fisher King and had asked what was done with the Grail. And Perceval the Welshman vowed that he would not sleep two nights in the same place until he had found it. So said Sir Gawain and Erec and Saigremor and all those seated at the Round Table. And Arthur, hearing this, was filled with sorrow, but nonetheless gave them leave to go.

So Arthur dismissed his court, and some returned to their own lands while others stayed in their lodgings and with the king. Perceval and those of the Round Table prepared to leave, arming themselves in their lodgings. And when they were ready they came, all mounted, before the king and his barons; and Sir Gawain, in the presence of them all, said: ‘My lords, we must go now as the voice of Our Lord instructed, though we don’t know where or in which direction until Our Lord gives us guidance.’

When the king and his barons heard this they began to weep, for they did not expect to see any one of them again. And with that the knights departed.

But they rode together all that day without encountering any adventure; and all the next they rode till the ninth hour,4 when they came upon a cross. They halted there and worshipped the cross and prayed for God’s mercy. Then Perceval said to his companions: ‘Sirs, if we ride together we’re not going to achieve much. Let’s split up and each go our own way.’

‘If we carry on like this,’ said Gawain, ‘we’ll accomplish nothing. Let’s follow Perceval’s advice.’

And they all said: ‘We agree.’

So they went their separate ways, each following the path he fancied most, and so embarked upon the quest of the Grail. But of Gawain and his companions, and the adventures that befell them and the hardships they endured, I can tell you nothing; I will tell you only what matters for the book.

*

So know now that when Perceval left his companions he rode all day without encountering any adventure; nor could he find anywhere to take lodging, and he had to lie that night in the forest. He unharnessed his horse and left him to graze. Perceval did not sleep at all that night, but kept watch over his horse for fear of the wild beasts of the forest. At the crack of dawn next day he resaddled and harnessed his horse and mounted without delay, and rode through the forest all day until the first hour.5 And as he rode he glanced to his left, and saw a knight who had been struck through the body with a lance: he was still impaled upon it; and a sword had cut through his helmet right down to his teeth. Nearby stood a tethered horse and a shield; and beside his body was the most beautiful damsel that Nature ever made. She was grieving more bitterly than any woman has ever done as she lamented the knight’s death, beating her fists and tearing her hair and clawing at her face in such anguish that no man could have seen her without feeling the deepest pity. When Perceval saw her he felt pity indeed, and spurred his horse towards her.

When the damsel saw him she stopped her grieving for a moment and rose to meet him, saying: ‘You are welcome, sir.’

‘Damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘may God give you greater joy than you have now.’

‘Sir,’ she said, ‘joy will never be mine, for I have seen the man killed whom I loved so much, and who valued me so dearly that there was nothing he cherished as much as me.’

‘Damsel,’ Perceval asked her, ‘how long have you been with him?’

‘I’ll tell you, dear sir,’ she replied. ‘It so happened that I was at my father’s house in this forest, and a half day’s journey away there lived a giant. Some while ago he asked my father for my hand but was rejected, so he waged war upon him for a long time, until he heard that my father had gone to the court of the great King Arthur, for the Round Table was to gather at Carduel at Pentecost. Knowing my father had gone to Arthur’s court, he came to our manor house and tore down the door and marched into the hall – finding no-one there to bar his way – and burst into my mother’s chamber and seized me and carried me off. He made me mount his horse – you can see him there – and brought me here and made me dismount, and was about to lie with me. I was terrified, and wept and screamed; and the knight you see here heard my cries and came galloping towards us. The giant didn’t notice him till he was right beside him; then he was enraged and attacked him with all his might. The knight was noble and valiant and fought back as boldly as he could. I tell you, the giant responded fearsomely and dealt him terrible blows; but the knight attacked him with his sword and cut off his head, and hung it over there on the branch of a tree. Then he came to me and helped me to mount, and said he wished me to be his love; I was overjoyed and gladly granted his wish, and said he would always be my lord and love since he’d saved me from an enemy who would have taken my honour and my life.

‘We rode together all yesterday and all this morning till the third hour, 6 when we came upon a pavilion. We rode towards it to see the merrymaking, for such festivity as was taking place in the tent was never seen before. The tent-flap was open so we went inside; but the moment they saw us enter the pavilion their grief was as great as their joy had been! My love was bewildered by their grieving. Then a damsel came and said we should leave the tent at once and flee, for if he stayed a moment longer he’d be sure to die. But he, knowing nothing of their business, refused downright to go, and begged them: ‘Damsels, in God’s name stop this grieving and return to your merrymaking!’

‘“Dear sir,” they replied, “how can we make merry when you’ll die before our eyes? It’s the Proud Knight of the Heath who’s pitched his tent here, and he’ll kill you – you may be sure he’ll have no mercy. Take our advice and go before worse befalls you.”

‘“Sweet damsels,” he said,” I fear no knight.”

‘When they heard this they began to weep. And at that moment a dwarf came riding up on a nag, a whip in his hand, and he was wicked and cruel. His only greeting was to say we were unwelcome! And so we were, judging by his behaviour, for he lashed me across the face with his whip, raising weals, and then pulled the tentpole out of the ground and brought it crashing down on us. My love was furious, but didn’t deign to meddle with the dwarf, who rode away, beating his nag with the whip. Then we left, too, and set off on our way, for we had no more business there; but we hadn’t gone half a league before we saw a knight approaching, heavily armed in red, and galloping at such a speed that the whole forest shook: such a thunderous noise he made that we thought there must be ten! And as he drew near he cried aloud: ‘‘By God, sir knight, you’ll regret bringing down my tent and ruining the celebration! ‘’

‘When my love heard this he turned to face him and they charged at each other; and the knight, who was mighty indeed, struck my love through the body, and then drew his sword and struck him through the helm, as you can see. And when he’d killed him he rode away, without a glance at either me or my horse. I was left all alone in this forest, and no-one can blame me for grieving when I’ve lost the one who saved me from my enemy. There: I’ve given you a true answer to your question.’

And with that she began to weep and lament most bitterly. Perceval felt deeply sorry for her, and said: ‘Damsel, this grieving will do no good; climb on this mule and lead me to the knight’s pavilion, for I won’t be content till I’ve taken revenge.’

But the damsel replied: ‘Sir, take my advice and don’t go: the knight is huge and mighty, and if he gets the better of you he’ll kill you. Though I can’t deny he’s the man I hate most in all the world.’

And Perceval declared that he would not rest until he had seen the knight. So he helped her to mount, and they made their way together to the pavilion where they heard the damsels’ merrymaking. As soon as they caught sight of Perceval their celebrations ceased and they screamed at him to go, for their lord was coming and Perceval would be sure to die. But he cared little for their words, and rode up to the tent; and no sooner had he entered and begun to speak to them than the foul and hideous dwarf appeared on his nag, whip in hand and beating the nag on the head and crying: ‘Get out of my lord’s pavilion now!’

And he came up to the damsel and lashed her across the neck and hands, and took hold of her palfrey and was about to drive her out of the pavilion; but Perceval, outraged, gripped his lance by the head and dealt the dwarf a mighty blow across the shoulders, sending him crashing from his nag to the ground. But the dwarf jumped up and climbed back on his nag and cried: ‘By God, sir knight, before the day’s out you’re going to suffer!’

And he left Perceval in the pavilion, most distressed about the dwarf’s foul treatment of the damsel. And while they stood there they saw the knight approaching clad all in red arms, and the dwarf with him. When the damsel saw him she was terrified and said: ‘Good sir, that’s the one who killed my love!’

Hearing this, Perceval turned his horse and rode from the pavilion. When the knight saw him he cried: ‘By God, sir knight, you’ll be sorry you hit my dwarf!’

But Perceval, caring nothing for his arrogant words, turned his horse towards him, and they charged at each other full tilt and full of hatred; and the knight, who was strong and brash indeed, struck Perceval such a blow on the shield that he smashed clean through it and the lance-head flashed under his left armpit: had it found flesh it would have killed him. But Perceval, so full of knightly qualities, struck a lance-blow on his shield likewise, and with such ferocity that neither hauberk nor shield – nor anything else he might have worn – could have saved him from feeling the iron head pierce his flesh. And so agonisingly did they collide – bodies and heads and shields together – that they were knocked almost senseless, and their reins and shield-straps flew from their hands and they brought each other down with such a crash that you could have ridden a league before they came to. But as soon as they could they jumped up and took their shields by the straps and drew their swords and came at each other; and the knight, who was full of strength and might, clutched his naked sword and set his shield and attacked Perceval in a fury. Perceval thrust out his shield, and the knight struck it so fiercely that he split it right down to the boss; the blow was so mighty that it sent flowers and gemstones7 flying to the ground: it would surely have wounded him, but the sword turned in his hand and was deflected. This inspired Perceval to greater strength and courage, and he came at the knight aiming a blow at his helm; the knight thrust out his shield to parry it, but such was Perceval’s rage and hatred that he smashed clean through and gave him a terrible wound in the left shoulder, the force of the blow nearly bringing him to the ground. He attacked him again, and mightily, but the knight fought back like a man who believed himself invincible. But Perceval pressed him so hard that he had to retreat across the field, unable to stand his ground, until Perceval had his helmet off and was about to cut off his head. Then the knight begged for mercy in God’s name, that he might spare his life, and he would accept imprisonment wherever Perceval might decree. When Perceval heard his plea for mercy he did not deign to touch him further but drew back, and told him that he must swear upon holy relics that he and his damsels would declare themselves the prisoners of King Arthur. He made him promise also to take the damsel whose sweetheart he had killed to Arthur’s court and give her into the keeping of the king’s nephew Gawain – who would be sure to treat her as she would wish – or at least take her back to her father’s house.

‘I’ll do so willingly, sir,’ the knight replied. ‘But tell me now, in whose name shall I declare myself a prisoner when I come to the court of the great King Arthur?’

‘In the name of Perceval the Welshman,’ he replied, ‘who has embarked upon the quest of the Grail. But I forgot to say that if you don’t find Sir Gawain, give the damsel to the queen, for indeed, I don’t think Gawain will be there.’

‘Sir,’ said the knight, ‘I’ll do exactly as you wish. But before we go our ways, please come and eat with me: then I’ll be all the happier to go where you ask.’

Perceval was famished and said he would gladly do so, and so they returned to the pavilion, where the knight commanded the damsels to give their guest a kind welcome. They did exactly as he asked, and dressed him in a rich mantle. Then the tables were set and they sat down to dine, and there was plenty to eat indeed. When dinner was done they rose, and Perceval called for his arms; they were brought to him and he armed and mounted. The knight did likewise, and bade his damsels mount and the damsel, too, whom Perceval had brought there. And I tell you, she grieved deeply when she took her leave of Perceval, and gave the impression that she would have preferred his company to the knight’s; but that could not be, for Perceval had his mind fixed on other matters.

And so they parted; and the knight rode on until he came to the court of the great King Arthur. Arthur was in his main hall; and with him was his queen, who was most beautiful, and many fine knights who had come to his court. The knight sent by Perceval came into the hall and greeted the king and queen and all the barons, and said:

‘Sire, I surrender to you as your prisoner – and these damsels likewise – and submit to your will in the name of Perceval the Welshman. And he entrusts the damsel you see here to Sir Gawain; if he’s not here he wishes the queen to receive her – she’s of very noble parentage. And for himself, he sends greetings to you all.’

King Arthur was overjoyed at this; and he made the knight a member of his household and declared him no longer a prisoner. And the queen took the damsel, welcoming her with honour on behalf of her cousin Sir Gawain. And so it was that the knight stayed with King Arthur, and he came to be much loved at the court.

*

Meanwhile Perceval, after leaving the knight, rode on all day without encountering any adventure; evening was near, and he prayed to Our Lord to send him somewhere to lodge, for he had had poor lodging the night before. Then he looked ahead, and through the tangled forest he saw the tip of a tall and handsome tower appear: he was filled with joy and rode swiftly towards it. And when he arrived he saw that it was the most beautiful castle in the world, and the drawbridge was down and the gate wide open: he rode straight in. He came to the mounting-block outside the hall, dismounted, tethered his horse to a ring and climbed the hall steps, fully armed, sword at his side. But when he entered the hall he looked high and low and saw neither man nor woman; he came to a chamber and went inside and looked everywhere, but there was no-one to be seen.

He returned to the hall, very puzzled, and said: ‘By God, this is strange: by the way the hall is strewn with rushes I can tell it’s not long since people were here, but now I can see no-one.’

But then, as he came to the middle of the hall, he noticed, underneath the windows, a chessboard of fine silver, and chessmen upon it of white and black ivory, set up ready for a game. Seeing these handsome chessmen, Perceval walked up and gazed at them for a long while. After looking at them closely he began to handle them, and moved one of them forward on the board. And a piece made a move in reply. Perceval was amazed, and moved another man. Again a piece responded. When Perceval saw this he sat down and began to play; he played, indeed, until the board had checkmated him three times. Perceval was taken aback, and said: ‘By the faith I owe Our Lord, this is amazing! I thought I was fairly good at this game, but it’s checkmated me three times! I’m damned if it’s ever going to mate and disgrace me or any other knight again!’

And he swept the chessmen into the skirt of his mailcoat and strode up to the window, intending to throw them into the water that ran below. But just as he was about to let them go, a damsel cried out from a window above him, saying: ‘Knight, your heart has stirred you to great wickedness if you mean to throw those chessmen in the water! Don’t do it: it would be very wrong.’

‘Damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘come down here and I won’t throw any.’

‘I shan’t come,’ she said. ‘Just do the courteous thing and put them back on the board.’

‘What do you mean, damsel?’ said Perceval. ‘You want me to do you a favour, but you won’t do one for me? By Saint Nicholas, unless you come down I’m throwing them out!’

Hearing this, the damsel said: ‘Put the chessmen back, sir knight: I’ll come down rather than have you throw them.’

Perceval was delighted, and returned to the board and put the pieces back; and they set themselves in place again more perfectly than any man could ever have done. Then the damsel entered through a chamber door, and fully ten girls with her; and four servants, too, who were well trained, for as soon as they saw Perceval they ran forward to help him from his armour: they took his helmet from his head, his boots from his feet and his mailcoat from his back, leaving him entirely undressed – and I tell you, he was the most handsome knight ever known. And two boys ran and stabled his horse, while a damsel brought him a short mantle of rich scarlet cloth and dressed him, and then led him to the chamber with the young lady of the house who seemed very happy to welcome him – and I assure you, she was the most beautiful damsel in the world. Perceval fell deeply in love with her at first sight, and said to himself that he would be mad not to seek her love, being alone with her as he was. And so he did, wooing her passionately in many ways, until the damsel said:

‘Before God, sir, if I thought you meant what you said I’d lend a favourable ear! But indeed, I don’t doubt your words, and if you do as I ask I’ll grant you my love and make you lord of this castle.’

Perceval was overjoyed at this, and said: ‘Damsel, ask me anything in the world and I’ll do it! Tell me what you wish.’

And she replied: ‘If you can catch the white hart that lives in this forest and bring me back its head, I’ll be your love for evermore. And I’ll give you a good and faithful hound who’ll lead you straight to the hart as soon as you let him go. Follow him fast, cut off the hart’s head and bring it to me.’

‘Gladly, lady,’ Perceval replied. ‘I promise you, if God grants me life, I’ll do exactly as you ask.’

With that the damsel’s servants came forward and set up the tables, and they sat down to dine and were well satisfied. After eating they rose, and Perceval and the damsel walked together in the courtyard until it was time to go to bed. Then the servants came to Perceval and took off his shoes and led him to a beautiful bed they had prepared for him, and Perceval lay down; but I tell you, he slept very little that night, for he could not stop thinking about the damsel and the task she had set him.

At the crack of dawn next day Perceval rose and armed himself, and two boys brought him his horse and he mounted. Then the damsel came and gave him her hound, and charged him for love of her to take good care of him.

‘Before God, damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘there’s nothing I’d less like to lose than your dog.’

And he sat the hound across his horse’s neck in front of him and took his leave of the damsel, and rode away swiftly until he came to the forest, when he put the dog down and let him go. The hound set off on the trail of the hart until he came to a thicket where he started it; and the hart, great, antlered and white as snow, took to flight; and when Perceval caught sight of it he was elated and spurred his horse forward: the whole forest echoed to the sound of its hooves. Why should I make a long story of this? The hound pursued the hart until it gave in, and pinned it down by its legs. Then Perceval, overjoyed, swiftly dismounted and cut off its head, and thought he would hang it from his saddle. But just as he was about to tie it on, an old woman came galloping up on a palfrey, seized the hound and rode off with it. Perceval was furious, and jumped on his horse and spurred after her; when he caught up with her he grabbed her by the shoulders and made her stop, saying: ‘Give me back my dog, lady – it’s very wrong of you to take off like this.’

When the wicked old woman heard his words she said: ‘May you be damned for stopping me, sir knight, and saying this hound was yours: I think you’ve stolen it! I’m going to give it to the one it belongs to, for you’ve no right to it.’

‘Lady,’ said Perceval in reply, ‘if you don’t give it to me kindly I’ll get angry and you’ll not take it away – and it’ll be the worse for you!’

‘Dear sir,’ she said, ‘you can use force upon me, but force is not right. If you’ll do as I say, I’ll give the hound back without a fuss.’

‘Tell me what it is,’ said Perceval, ‘and I’ll do it if I can, for I’ve no wish to start a fight with you.’

‘Ahead of us on this path,’ she replied, ‘you’ll find a tomb with a knight painted on it. Go up and say that the one who painted it was a false rogue! When you’ve done so, come back to me and I’ll give you the hound.’

‘I’m not going to lose him for want of this!’ said Perceval; and he came to the tomb and said: ‘Sir knight, the one who painted you was a false rogue!’

But when he had said this and was on his way back he heard a terrible noise behind him; and looking round he saw a knight galloping towards him on a black horse of amazing size, and he was fully armed in armour blacker than any ink. Perceval was terrified at the sight of him, and crossed himself at once – for indeed, he was frighteningly huge. But as soon as he had made the sign of the true cross he grew in strength and courage; he turned his horse’s head towards him and they came charging at each other full tilt. They struck one another such awesome blows that they shattered lances and shields, and collided, bodies and chests and helms together, so violently that their hearts erupted inside them and their eyes spun so wildly that they had no idea what had happened. They lost their reins and shield-straps and plummeted to the ground with such a crash that their hearts nearly burst: you could have ridden two leagues before they came to or knew where each other had gone. But when they recovered their wits and senses they stood up, drew their swords, clutched their shields and came at each other once again. The knight of the tomb attacked Perceval in a fury, and dealt him a sword-blow full on the helm; but it was strong enough to withstand it, and Perceval attacked him vigorously in his turn, pressing him so hard that he sent him staggering back; and he struck one blow so mighty that the blade cut through both the helmet and the hood of the mailcoat, wounding the knight on the left side of his head and sending him reeling: had the sword not turned in his hand, I tell you, it would have killed him. But the knight clutched his shield once more and returned to a fearsome attack, and Perceval again defended; and while they fought in the middle of the field, a fully armed knight rode up, took the hart’s head and the dog that the old woman was holding, and rode off again without saying a word. When Perceval saw this he was most distressed, but he could not go after him because of the knight’s mighty attack. Then Perceval’s strength and courage grew, and he assailed the knight ferociously. The knight could take no more and, overawed, ran swiftly back to his tomb; it opened for him and he dived back in. Perceval was about to dive after him, but he could not, for the tomb slammed shut behind the knight – with such force that the earth shook beneath Perceval’s feet. He was astounded by what he had seen, and came up to the tomb and called to the knight three times; but there was no reply. Perceval, realising he would get no word from him, returned to his horse and mounted, and rode swiftly after the knight who had stolen the head and the hound, swearing that he would not rest till he tracked him down. As he rode he saw the old woman who had sent him to the tomb, and he spurred towards her and asked her who the knight of the tomb was, and whether she knew the one who had stolen his dog.

‘Sir knight, that’s a damnably pointless question,’ she replied. ‘If you’ve lost it, go and find it – it’s your business; it’s none of mine.’

Hearing she had no intention of helping, Perceval commended her to the devil and set off again after the knight who had stolen the head and hound. But he rode and rode for most of that season and heard no news of him.

*

Through the forests and woods he rode and encountered many adventures. Chance led him one day to the wild forest where his mother and father had lived, their castle now left to a damsel who was Perceval’s sister. When he came to the forest he did not recognise it at all, for he had not been there for a very long time. But he made his way as chance led him and came riding up to the house. When the damsel his sister saw him she ran to his stirrup and said: ‘Dismount, sir knight, for you’ll have good lodging if you’ll care to stay here for the night.’

‘Damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘I came for no other reason.’

And he dismounted, graciously helped by his sister and two other damsels who were her nieces. They helped him to disarm, too; and when he was out of his armour his sister brought him a most beautiful silken tunic. Then she seated him beside her, and looked long at him and began to weep. Perceval was most upset to see her cry, and asked her the reason for her tears.

‘I’ll tell you, sir,’ she replied. ‘I had a brother, a noble young man – I was his full sister: we shared the same father and mother. Our father died when it pleased God – and I tell you, Christ sent the voice of the Holy Spirit to him at his passing – and after his death my brother went off to the court of the great King Arthur. He was very young, sir, and knew nothing of the ways of the world, and my mother was so distressed at his leaving that she fell sick and died of grief. I’m sure he must be burdened by the sin of causing her death.’

And Perceval, hearing this, said: ‘Dear sister, know that I am Perceval your brother who left for the court of the great King Arthur.’

When the damsel heard this she was filled with joy and jumped up, weeping, and hugged him and kissed him a hundred times and more, and Perceval kissed her likewise as they rejoiced at their meeting. Then she asked him if he had been to the court of his grandfather, the rich Fisher King.

‘Dear sister,’ said Perceval, ‘I’ve not been there yet, but I’ve been seeking it for a long time – for more than three years. And I promise you, I shan’t rest until I find it.’

‘Dear brother,’ she replied, ‘may God grant that you earn His favour.’

While they were talking together and delighting in each other’s company, the damsel’s young servants came into the house, and when they saw her kissing Perceval so passionately they were most distressed, and said she must be mad thus to kiss a stranger. But the damsel called them forward and said: ‘Dear servants, know that this is Perceval my brother, who left here when he was very young.’

When the boys heard this they were overjoyed and greeted him with delight.

Later, after they had dined, the damsel called to Perceval and said: ‘Dear brother, I’m very worried about you: you’re so young, and the knights who roam these parts are very wicked and cruel; they’ll kill you if they can to get your horse. Take my advice, dear brother, and leave this weighty task you’ve undertaken and stay here with me, for it’s a great sin to kill another knight, and you’re in great danger each day of being killed yourself.’

‘Truly, dear sister,’ said Perceval, ‘I assure you I’d be glad to stay if I’d accomplished the quest I’ve begun, and as soon as I’ve done so I’ll come back and do all I can to aid and guide you. But until it’s accomplished I shan’t stay.’

The damsel wept tenderly at his words and said: ‘Then I beg you, Perceval, my dear sweet brother, do me the favour I shall ask.’

‘Dear sister,’ he replied, ‘tell me what you wish and I’ll do it.’

‘I want you to come with me,’ she said, ‘to the house of an uncle of yours; he’s a hermit, and a most worthy man, and he lives here in the forest half a league away. Make confession to him, and take penance for your mother’s sake who died because of you, and you may be sure he’ll give you the best guidance that he can. And be sure you do as he commands, for he’s a most holy man, and came to this land from Jerusalem in the land of Judaea, and was one of the brothers of your father Alain li Gros. And know this: if he prays to Christ that God may guide you to your goal, his prayers may well direct you there; for he told me the most wonderful things about your ancestor, and about Joseph and Enigeus – his mother, Joseph’s sister – and about his father Bron, who is known as the Fisher King. And he told me that Bron – your grandfather – has the vessel in which the blood of Our Lord was gathered. This vessel is called the Grail, and he said that Our Lord declared that it should come to you, and that you must search until you find it.’

When Perceval heard his sister’s words he was filled with joy, and said he would gladly go to his uncle. He armed at once and mounted, and bade his sister mount a hunting horse that was kept at the house, and they set off together and rode to the hermit’s dwelling. When they arrived at his door they rapped the knocker on the wicket gate, and the hermit, who was a most holy old man, came hobbling on his crutch to open it. Perceval and his sister dismounted and entered the hermit’s house. But their horses remained outside: they could not come in, for the door was so low that Perceval had to stoop as he entered. The holy man was very surprised to see his niece arrive with a knight, and asked her why she had come with him, and whether he had seized or abducted her. And she replied:

‘Dear uncle, this is my brother Perceval – the son of your brother Alain li Gros – who went away to the court of the great King Arthur to receive arms. He did so, thanks be to God, and has them now.’

The worthy man was delighted by her words and said: ‘Tell me, dear nephew, have you yet been to the house of the rich Fisher King, who is my father and your grandfather?’

And Perceval replied that he had been in search of it for a long while but had not yet been there.

‘Dear nephew,’ said the hermit, ‘know this: once, when we were seated together at supper, we heard the voice of the Holy Spirit commanding us to go to far-off lands in the West; and it commanded my father Bron to come to these parts, towards the setting sun, and said that to Alain li Gros would be born an heir who would have the Grail in his keeping, and that the Fisher King could not die until you had been to his court – and when you had done so, he would be healed and would bestow his grace and the vessel upon you, and you would be lord of the blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Now be sure to behave with all honour, and I beg you, have no thoughts of killing other knights, but spare them and bear with them in all kinds of ways for the sake of your mother’s soul. And pray to Our Lord to have mercy on you, for it was the grief your mother suffered on your account that killed her. And I beg you, be mindful and ever careful to guard against sin and all misdeeds, for you are of a line devoted to Our Lord, and He has so exalted them that He has given His flesh and His blood into their keeping.’

‘Sir,’ replied Perceval, ‘may God grant that I serve Him always according to His will.’

And the worthy hermit echoed this prayer to Our Lord. Then he told Perceval many good things which I cannot relate, but I can tell you that Perceval stayed with him all that night till morning, when he heard him say mass in his chapel. And when he had heard mass and the hermit had taken off the armour of Our Lord,8 Perceval came and bowed to him most humbly and took his leave, saying that he wished to resume the quest he had undertaken. The worthy man prayed to Our Lord to grant that he would soon find his father’s house; then Perceval left the hermit’s cell, went to his horse and mounted, and bade his sister mount likewise; then he set off, leaving the hermit in tears. And Perceval rode swiftly away with his sister, who rejoiced in her brother’s company.

As they rode along and were nearing their castle, Perceval stopped beside a cross where he had often played while a boy at his mother’s house. And he saw a fully armed knight riding towards him, and as he came he cried at the top of his voice:

‘By God, sir knight, you’ll not take this damsel away with you unless you fight me for her first!’

Perceval heard him well enough but said not a word in reply, for he was so absorbed in his business that he had no thought for the knight’s cries. The knight was deeply angered, and came galloping towards him, lance lowered. He would have struck Perceval if his sister had not cried out to him: ‘Perceval dear brother, look out or this knight will kill you!’

Perceval was startled, so preoccupied by thoughts of the damsel who had given him the hound that he had not noticed the knight. But as soon as he did, he turned his horse’s head and spurred him straight towards his attacker; the knight did likewise: both were intent upon doing each other harm. The knight struck Perceval’s shield with his lance and smashed clean through it; but the mailcoat was strong enough to withstand it, and the shaft of the lance flew into splinters. Perceval returned a blow to the shield with all his strength: neither shield nor mailcoat could stop the lance plunging into the knight’s chest. Such was the fury of the blow that he was sent flying full length to the ground; and such was the fall that his heart burst within him and he died instantly: neither foot nor hand moved again.

‘By God, sir knight,’ said Perceval, ‘you’ve brought this upon yourself: you’d have done better to keep quiet than to come after me like this. But I’m sorry I’ve killed you: I’d rather simply have defeated you, for it’s a great sin to kill another knight.’

Then he took the knight’s horse and turned away, and rode back to his sister and gave the horse to her. They set off swiftly and returned to their manor and dismounted at once. The damsel’s servants came to meet them and took their horses and stabled them: they were very pleased to see them return, but most surprised about the horse that Perceval had brought back. They came to him then and very graciously helped him from his armour, and once he was disarmed the servants set up the table and Perceval dined with his sister. When he had eaten he lay down to sleep for a while, for he had stayed up all the previous night; and after a short sleep he rose and called for his arms and swiftly armed once more. When his sister saw this her heart was filled with sorrow, and she came to him and said: ‘What’s this, dear brother Perceval? What do you mean to do? Are you going to go without me and leave me alone here in the forest?’

‘Dear sister,’ he replied, ‘if there’s any way I can return to you I’ll do so, and then I’ll do all in my power to help you as a brother should. But for the time being I can’t stay.’

The damsel was very distressed at this, and wept most tenderly. Perceval did what he could to comfort her, promising to return as soon as he could; but then he called for his horse at once and quickly mounted, having no desire to stay. Then he and his sister commended each other to God; she was weeping and filled with grief, but there was nothing more she could do.

*

After leaving his sister, Perceval rode on all day without encountering any adventure; nor did he find anywhere to take lodging. He had to lie that night in the forest; he took off his horse’s harness and let him graze all night on the grass which was sweet and heavy with dew. Perceval watched over him all night without sleeping.

At the crack of dawn next morning he rose and harnessed his horse once more, took up his arms and mounted and rode all day. He greatly enjoyed that morning: the forest was huge and bursting with green, and he listened with delight to the birds’ joyful dawn chorus. And then, as he rode along, he looked ahead and saw a knight approaching on a horse, with a damsel beside him of the most startling appearance ever seen: her neck and face and hands were blacker than iron, her legs all bent, and her eyes redder than any fire – and truly, a full hand’s width apart. And I promise you, no more than a foot of her peeped over the saddle-bow, and her feet and legs were so twisted that she could not keep them in the stirrups. Her hair was tied in a single tress, which was short and black, looking more like a rat’s tail than anything else. But she was riding along most proudly, with whip in hand and one leg cocked elegantly over her palfrey’s neck! And as she rode beside the knight she hugged and kissed him sweetly from time to time, as he did her.

When Perceval saw this he stopped and crossed himself in astonishment; then he began to roar with laughter. And when the knight saw him laughing at his sweetheart he was most upset, and rode up to Perceval and asked him what he was laughing about and why he had crossed himself three times.

‘I’ll tell you,’ Perceval replied. ‘When I saw that demon riding beside you I crossed myself in fear. And then when I saw her hugging and kissing you I began to laugh at the incongruity! But tell me now – kindly, and don’t be angry – where you found her and whether she’s a woman or a demon. For truly, I wouldn’t spend three days in her company for the whole kingdom of Logres: I’d be afraid she’d strangle or murder me!’

When the knight heard this he turned red with anger, and furiously answered: ‘I tell you, knight, nothing could have enraged me more than to hear you mock and laugh at the one I love with all my heart: she’s so fair in my eyes that no lady or damsel in the world can match her for beauty. I swear I’ll never eat again until I’ve taken revenge upon you! And if your insult was in her hearing I think she’d die of shame, she’s so sensitive – and if she died I’d kill myself for love of her. So I challenge you here and now.’

‘I think I can defend myself,’ said Perceval, ‘if it please God.’

They drew apart, putting the range of two bowshots9 between them, took their shields by the straps and levelled their lances, then let their horses go and struck each other so mightily that both were sent flying from their saddles. But they leapt to their feet as soon as they could and attacked each other with vigour, exchanging terrible blows with their swords, full on their helms; I tell you, there was little left of their shields: they dealt such sword-blows that it was a wonder they did not kill each other – indeed, they would have done so if they had been as fresh as they were at the outset, but they were so tired that their blows were greatly weakened. But then Perceval gathered new strength and, ashamed that the knight had held out so long, launched such a mighty attack that he wore him down and overpowered him; he brought him down in the middle of the field, and pulled his helmet from his head and hurled it thirty feet and more; he was about to cut off his head, but the knight cried for mercy in God’s name and to spare his life. And when Perceval heard him beg for mercy he did not deign to touch him more; he put his sword back in its scabbard and asked the knight his name. He replied that he was called the Handsome Coward.

‘By my life, sir,’ said Perceval, ‘there’s truth and falsehood in your name: you’re not a handsome bad knight but a handsome good one, so help me God!’

Then Perceval looked at the damsel and could not help but laugh; and he asked the knight what her name was. He replied that she was called Rosete the Fair.

‘And I tell you, she’s the loveliest damsel known to man, for in addition to her beauty she has the sweetest disposition. I’d sooner lose an eye than lose her, such is the depth of my love.’

‘By my faith, knight, then it would be very unkind to deprive you of her. But you must solemnly swear to me that you’ll go to the court of the great King Arthur and surrender to him as my prisoner. Take this damsel with you and present her to the queen.’

‘I’ll do so gladly, sir,’ the knight replied, ‘for I’d take her to any good court in the world and present her as a noble and worthy lady. But tell me on whose behalf I’m to declare myself prisoner.’

‘In the name of Perceval the Welshman,’ he said.

‘Certainly, sir,’ replied the knight. ‘Both she and I will do as you wish.’

And with that the knight left Perceval and made his way to Carduel in Wales. Many knights and barons and ladies and damsels were there with the queen, who treated them with great honour. The king had just heard mass with the queen and his barons and returned to the hall, the queen accompanied by Kay the seneschal. She had gone to her chamber; and Kay was leaning at a window when he saw the knight approaching, bringing his sweetheart with him to the court: they were riding very proudly. When he caught sight of the damsel Kay’s heart jumped for joy; he leapt down from the window and came running to the queen’s chamber, crying:

‘Lady! Come and see this! A knight’s on his way here, bringing with him the most beautiful damsel ever beheld by man! None of the ladies at your court can remotely match her beauty! In God’s name, prepare to honour her and have her stay with you; so help me God, I wish all the ladies of Logres were as lovely as her!’

‘I don’t, good sir Kay!’ the queen replied. ‘It would put me in a terrible position! For you and the other knights here would want to take them all away from me!’ Then she said to her attendants: ‘Let’s go and see if this damsel is as beautiful as Kay would have us believe.’

So they came to the windows of the hall; and when they saw the knight and the damsel approaching they were astonished and crossed themselves fervently and began to laugh. The queen called to her maids and, amidst her laughter, said: ‘Damsels, Kay obviously loves you dearly, wishing you blessed with such beauty!’

And Kay went to the king and the barons and told them to come and look; and they joined the queen at the windows and began to laugh and joke. And when the queen told them what Kay had wished, they all burst into peals of delighted laughter.

Just then the knight arrived and dismounted outside the hall, and he took the damsel in his arms and gently helped her from her palfrey. Into the hall they came together, hand in hand, and walked towards King Arthur; and the knight stopped in the middle of the hall and greeted the king and all his barons on behalf of Perceval the Welshman and declared himself a prisoner in his name.

‘And my sweetheart Rosete with her shining face, whom I love more than my own life, he has sent to the queen to stay with her in her chambers.’

When Kay the seneschal heard this he could not contain himself, and said to the queen: ‘Thank him, lady, on bended knees! What a gift he’s given you today! It’ll bring you and the damsels of your chambers eternal honour! Mind you, if you keep her with you I’m afraid the king might love her as much as you!’

Then he begged the king, by the faith he owed him, to ask the knight where he had found her, and if there were more like her that he could have if he went there. The king was angered by Kay’s words and said: ‘By the faith you owe God, Kay, stop this now: it’s very wrong to mock a stranger. It does you no good at all – it earns only hatred.’

‘Sire,’ Kay replied, ‘I don’t mean any harm: I’m saying it for the knight’s own good, for truly, if I were to take her to some other court I’d be afraid they’d abduct her!’

The king was furious at this, and said: ‘Kay, if only you realised the effect of your words. I forbid you to say more.’

And he walked up to the knight and embraced him and declared him free from imprisonment, and said he wished him to be a member of his household from that time on, and that the damsel should join the queen in her chambers.

Kay the seneschal could not restrain himself; he said: ‘Sire, you’d better declare her out of bounds to the barons! They’ll all be after her for her beauty! And if she were mistreated I’m sure that knight would sue you! And I’m damned if I’d defend you!’

When Arthur heard this he was filled with rage and said: ‘Kay, you have a cruel and biting tongue. By the faith I owe God and the soul of my father Utherpendragon, were it not for the promise I made to your father Entor, you wouldn’t be my seneschal.’ Then he bowed his head and said to himself: ‘But I must bear with him, for whatever faults he has came from the woman who nursed him when he was taken from his mother for my sake.’

Then Kay came up, looking very angry, and said: ‘I’m damned if I’ll ever look after him – it’s up to you.’

And so, as you have heard, the damsel stayed at the court of the great King Arthur. And know this: she became thereafter the most beautiful damsel anywhere.

*

Now the book says that when Perceval left the knight, he wandered for a very long while from land to land and castle to castle, but could never find the house of his grandfather. He encountered many adventures, however, and one day, as he was riding through a great forest, he looked ahead and saw one of the most beautiful meadows in the world. Beside this meadow was a pleasant ford, and beyond the ford stood a pavilion. Perceval rode swiftly towards it, and came to the ford and was about to ride in; but just as he was about to let his horse drink, a magnificently armed knight came from the pavilion and galloped towards Perceval, crying:

‘By God, sir knight, you’ll be sorry you entered that ford: you’ll have to pay for your passage!’

And with that he came charging at Perceval, aiming to strike him with his lance; but when he saw that he had neither lance nor shield – for Perceval had been in combat with a knight who had smashed his shield to pieces – he turned back to a damsel who was standing at the door of the tent and told her to bring the knight the lance and shield which were hanging inside, for he felt it would be shameful to joust against a shieldless knight. She did as he commanded and presented them to Perceval – who was very glad to have them. Then the knight called to him to defend himself, for he had done wrong in entering the ford without leave, and to be on his mettle, for he would make him pay if he could. Then they charged furiously at each other and exchanged mighty blows; their lances shattered, and Perceval’s blow was so formidable that he sent the knight flying from his horse: he lay stretched out in the middle of the field. The laces of his helmet were broken, and as he fell it flew from his head. Perceval stepped down and dismounted, thinking it dishonourable to fight an unhorsed man; and he attacked him with his sword and dealt him such blows that he vanquished him; and the knight begged for mercy and declared himself his prisoner. But Perceval said he would have no mercy unless he first explained why he forbade men to water a horse at the ford and attacked and abused knights for doing so.

‘Sir,’ he replied, ‘I’ll tell you. My name, sir, is Urbain. I’m the son of the Queen of the Black Thorn, and King Arthur knighted me in his hall at Carduel. After he had made me a knight I wandered the country and encountered many knights and did battle with them – and I promise you, I outfought every knight I met. I was riding along one night as chance led me, when it began to rain with all the force God could muster: thunder crashed and the sky was riven by lightning bolts so frightening that I didn’t know what to do – I rode as if demons were after me! My horse was so terrified that I couldn’t control him – he bore me on, helpless. And then, I tell you, behind me came a tumult so terrible that it seemed as if the trees were being torn from the ground. But in the midst of my despair I saw a damsel ahead of me on a mule, the finest I’d ever seen; she was riding swiftly, but as soon as I saw her I headed after her and tried desperately to catch up, but it was so pitch dark that I could only see her in the lightning flashes that split the sky. I followed her until she rode into one of the most beautiful castles in the world; I spurred after her, and caught up with her just as she entered the castle hall. And when she saw me beside her she came and embraced me, and made me lay aside my arms and gave me the finest lodging that night. I fell in love with her, and plucked up the courage to ask for her love; and she said she would gladly grant it on one condition. I replied that I’d do exactly as she asked, no matter what. And she said that if I’d stay there with her and venture abroad no more, she would be my love. I agreed to this, but said it would grieve me to abandon deeds of chivalry. And she said:

‘“Dear friend, you see that ford? Pitch a pavilion there, and prevent any knight who passes this way from seeing the castle beyond, and joust with any who try to water their horses at the ford. That way you can take your pleasure with me and continue to perform knightly deeds. ‘’

‘I agreed to this, and I’ve spent almost a year here at the ford with my sweetheart and all the while have had all I could wish. The castle stands just beyond the pavilion, but no man has been able to set eyes upon it except me and my love and the girls who accompany her. In just eight days I’d have completed a year: if those eight days had passed I’d have been the greatest knight in the world; but God has not granted me that honour. And now I’m at your mercy, either to kill me or to let me live; and you can stay here and guard the ford for a year if you wish: if you do stay for a year without being defeated you’ll achieve worldly fame.’

‘My friend,’ Perceval replied, ‘I’ve no intention of staying, but I want you to give up this defence of the ford and stop troubling knights who pass this way.’

‘Sir,’ said the knight, ‘I’ll do whatever you wish, for you’ve clearly got the better of me.’

But while Perceval was speaking to the knight and forbidding him to guard the Perilous Ford, he heard a tumult so great that it sounded as if the whole forest were crumbling into an abyss; and the deafening noise was accompanied by smoke and a darkness so dense that for half a league around no man could have seen his neighbour. And out of the darkness came a mighty, anguished voice that said:

‘Perceval the Welshman, we ladies curse you with all our power, for today you’ve inflicted the deepest woe upon us that we’ve ever endured. And be sure of this: you’ll suffer greatly for it!’ Then the voice cried to the knight beside Perceval: ‘Be quick!’ – meaning he should not linger, and said: ‘If you stay longer you’ll lose me!’

When the knight heard the voice he was most distressed, and came to Perceval and begged for mercy a hundred times and more; Perceval was bewildered, and asked him why he was so desperate for mercy; and the knight replied: ‘Oh, sir knight, in God’s name give me leave and let me go!’

Perceval said nothing, filled with wonder at the voice. The knight ran to his horse and was about to mount, but Perceval grabbed him by the skirt of his mailcoat and said: ‘By my life, knight, you’re not going to escape me like this!’

The knight was distraught, and turned to him and cried for mercy a hundred times more, begging him in God’s name not to stop him, for if he stayed longer he would kill himself. Once again the voice rang out, saying: ‘Urbain, hurry, or you’ll lose me forever!’

When the knight heard this he fainted, and Perceval was dumbfounded and gazed at him in amazement. Then suddenly he found himself surrounded by a vast flock of birds, filling all the air about him; they were blacker than anything he had ever seen, and came flying at his helmet, trying to claw the eyes from his head. Perceval was horrified. Then the knight came out of his swoon, and seeing Perceval surrounded by the birds he leapt up, rejoicing and roaring with laughter, and cried: ‘I’m damned if I’m going to help you!’

And he gripped his shield and clutched his sword and attacked Perceval once more; Perceval was enraged and cried: ‘So, sir knight, you want to do battle again?’

‘I defy you!’ said the knight; and they launched themselves at each other in a fury with naked swords. But Perceval had the worst of it, for the birds were pressing so hard upon him that they almost beat him to the ground. It filled Perceval with anger, and clutching his sword in his right hand he struck a bird that was attacking him most fiercely clean through the body, spilling its entrails and bringing it plummeting to the ground. And the moment it fell it turned into a dead woman – and she was the loveliest he had ever seen: Perceval was most distressed when he realised she was dead. The birds that surrounded him drew back and then flew to the body and bore it away into the air. Then Perceval, seeing that he was rid of them, ran towards the knight, who begged him to have mercy in God’s name and to spare his life. And Perceval replied: ‘Then explain to me the marvel I’ve just seen.’

‘Gladly, sir,’ he said. ‘Know then that the great noise and tumult you heard was the sound of my damsel destroying her castle out of love for me; and the voice was hers, crying out to me. And when she saw that I couldn’t escape you, she turned herself and her damsels into the shape of birds and came here to attack you and rescue me. When I saw them I couldn’t help but run to their aid; and we’d have killed you – but I see now that none can harm you: you’re a worthy, godly man and one of the finest knights in the world. The one you wounded was my sweetheart’s sister – but she’s in no danger: she’ll now be in Avalon. But I beg you, in God’s name, let me go to my damsel: she’s waiting for me still.’

At this Perceval began to laugh, and graciously gave him leave. The knight was overjoyed and rushed away – on foot: he forgot all about his horse in his delight at being released. And he had not gone two bowshots10 before Perceval saw him being led away with the greatest jubilation in the world. Then Perceval came to his horse and mounted, intending to catch up with them, but he was hardly in the saddle before he realised that the damsels and the knight – and even the horse that had been standing beside him – had disappeared. Perceval was astounded; he turned back, saying to himself that it would be madness to go after them.

*

So he left that place and rode on, thinking deeply about his quest – and a good deal about the amazing adventure he had just encountered. He rode all that day without anything to eat or drink, and again he had to spend the night in the forest as he had done the night before.

Next morning he set off again and rode as chance led him; but all that day he journeyed on without finding any adventure or any house where he could lodge. He was most displeased, you may be sure, at finding nothing but hedges and bushes and woods, and he became very downhearted; and as he rode on, deep in troubled thought, it was well past the ninth hour11 when he looked ahead and saw one of the loveliest trees he had ever beheld: it stood beside a beautiful cross at the meeting of four roads. He headed that way and halted there for a good while. And while he sat gazing at the tree in delight, he saw two naked children climbing from branch to branch, each, he thought, about six years old, and they were hugging each other and playing together. After watching them for a while he called to them, entreating them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit to speak to him, if they were creatures of God. At that, one of the children stopped and sat down, and said to him:

‘Know, enquiring knight, that we are indeed God’s creatures; and from the earthly paradise from which Adam was exiled we have been sent by the Holy Spirit to speak to you. You have embarked upon the quest for the Grail, which is in the keeping of your grandfather Bron, known in many lands as the Fisher King. Take the path to your right, and before you leave it, be assured, you will see something that will bring you to the end of your quest – if you are worthy to achieve it.’

When Perceval heard this amazing utterance he paused to think for a moment; and when he looked up again, he could see neither the tree nor the two children – nor the cross that had been there before. It seemed to him the greatest marvel in the world and his heart was filled with wonder; and then he was stricken with fear that they might have been phantoms.

And as he sat there, unsure of what to do and whether to go the way the children had pointed, he saw an immense shadow coming and going before him: it passed four times or more in a row. Perceval’s horse was very alarmed, and snorted and stamped; and Perceval, too, was deeply afraid, and made the sign of the true cross over himself and his horse. And then, out of the shadow, came a voice that said:

‘Perceval! Merlin – of whom you have heard so much – sends you word that you should not reject what the children told you, for their advice comes from Our Saviour Jesus Christ. If you are worthy, before you leave the right-hand path to which you have been directed by Our Lord’s will, you will fulfil the prophecy that Our Lord made to Joseph.’

When Perceval heard the voice he was filled with joy, and called out to it three times, wanting to speak further. But no answer came; and realising it would say no more, Perceval set off along the path the two children had shown him. The way was clear and open. And I tell you, while it remained so Perceval was most ill at ease, preferring to ride through the forest than along an open road. As he rode along he came upon a glorious stretch of meadow-land, and on the far side lay a beautiful river with handsome mills along its bank. He headed that way, and in the middle of the river he saw three men aboard a boat. As he drew nearer he saw, in the middle of the boat, a very old man lying on rich drapes. This worthy man was his grandfather, the Fisher King. He hailed Perceval and asked him to stay the night with him, and Perceval thanked him deeply. Then the Fisher King said:

‘Good sir knight, go upriver and my castle will come into view. I’ll head that way myself now: I’d like to be there to greet you.’

So Perceval set off and followed the line of the river, but he looked high and low and could see no sign of the house of the Fisher King. When he failed to find it he was most upset and cursed the fisherman who had sent him that way, saying:

‘Damn you, fisherman, for mocking me and telling me tall stories!’

He rode on, troubled and annoyed, until suddenly he saw the tip of a tower peeping between two peaks on the edge of the forest he had crossed that morning. His spirits soared at the sight and he rode towards it, repenting deeply for having cursed the king – though he did not realise who he was. He rode on until he reached the fortress, and saw the river that ran around it, as beautiful as anyone could wish, and the hall and its outbuildings handsomely appointed. Seeing all this, he realised it was the home of a most noble man: it seemed more like the castle of a king than a fisherman, and the closer he came the more splendid it seemed. He came to the gate and found it open and the drawbridge lowered; so he rode in and dismounted at the mounting-block outside the hall. As soon as the boys in the courtyard saw him they ran to meet him, and held his stirrup while he dismounted and helped him to disarm; and they took his arms into the hall while two boys led his horse away and stabled him most handsomely. Then Perceval climbed up to the hall, where a boy dressed him in a mantle of scarlet and took him to be seated on a splendid bed. Then four of the servants went off into the chamber where the Fisher King had the Grail in his keeping. And I tell you, the Fisher King was so old and frail and beset by sickness that he could not move his hands or feet. He asked the servants if the knight had arrived, and they replied: ‘Yes, sire.’

And Bron said: ‘I wish to go to him.’

And the four servants lifted him in their arms and carried him into the hall where Perceval his nephew was; and when Perceval saw him coming he rose to meet him and said: ‘I’m sorry to put you to such trouble, sir.’

But the king replied: ‘I mean to honour you as highly as I can.’

And they sat together on the bed and spoke of several things; and the lord asked where he had come from that day and where he had lain the night before.

‘So help me God, sir,’ said Perceval, ‘I lay last night in the forest where I had very poor lodging: I was uncomfortable indeed – though I was more concerned for my horse than for myself.’

‘I don’t imagine,’ said the lord, ‘that you’d have had quite all you needed!’

Then he called two servants and asked if they could eat, and they replied: ‘Yes, in just a moment.’

And they had the tables set at once and the lord and Perceval sat down to dine.

And as they were sitting there and the first course was being served, they saw a damsel, most richly dressed, come out of a chamber: she had a cloth about her neck, and in her hands she carried two small silver platters. After her came a boy carrying a lance, which shed from its head three drops of blood. They passed before Perceval and into another chamber. After this came a boy bearing the vessel that Our Lord had given Joseph in prison: he carried it in his hands with great reverence. When the lord saw it he bowed and said the mea culpa, as did all the others in the house. And when Perceval saw it he was filled with wonder and would gladly have asked the question – but he was afraid of upsetting his host. He kept thinking about it all that night, but kept remembering how his mother had told him not to talk too much or to ask too many questions. And so he refrained from asking. The lord kept turning the conversation in such a way as to prompt the question, but Perceval said nothing: he was so exhausted from his two sleepless nights before that he was near to collapsing on the table. Then the boy returned carrying the Grail, and passed back into the chamber from which he had first come; and the boy bearing the lance did likewise; and the damsel followed after – but still Perceval asked nothing. When Bron the Fisher King realised no question was going to come he was most distressed. He had had the Grail presented to all the knights who had lodged there, because Our Lord Jesus Christ had told him he would never be healed until a knight asked what it was for, and that knight had to be the finest in the world. Perceval himself was destined to accomplish the task, and if he had asked the question, the king would have been healed.

When the Fisher King saw that Perceval wanted to sleep, he gave orders for the table to be cleared and for a fine bed to be made for his guest. Then he called four servants and said he would go to sleep and rest in his chamber, and took his leave of Perceval, saying he hoped he did not mind but he was an old man and could stay up no longer. Perceval replied that he did not mind at all, and commended him to God. So the Fisher King went to his chamber while Perceval stayed in the hall, his thoughts still fixed on the vessel that he had seen carried with such respect, to which the lord had bowed so deeply along with all the other people of the house. He was even more amazed by the lance which had shed three drops of blood from its head, and he decided he would ask the boys about it in the morning before he left. He had been pondering on this for a long while when three servants came and helped him from his shoes, and put him to bed most graciously. When he lay down he felt very tired, and slept till morning.

When morning came he rose, and when he was dressed and ready he went through the house and into the courtyard – but saw neither man nor woman. He returned to the house – and still found no-one. He was most disturbed. Then he looked up and saw his arms; so he armed and went out to the stable; he found it open, and his horse freshly groomed and harnessed and saddled. He was very puzzled, and mounted swiftly and rode from the stable, and when he looked ahead he saw that the gate was open. It occurred to him that the boys might have gone into the wood to gather herbs and other things they needed; so he decided to go after them, and if he found one of them he would ask the significance of the vessel he had seen carried through the hall, and why people had bowed so deeply to it, and by what marvel the lance bled from the tip of its head.

So off he went, and kept riding through the forest until prime;12 but he found neither man nor woman to speak to, and was most distressed. On and on he rode, so burdened with troubled thought that he almost fell from his horse. He went on riding until, deep in the heart of the forest, he caught sight of a damsel who was the most beautiful woman any man could find; and she was weeping most tenderly and grieving bitterly. And as soon as she saw Perceval she cried at the top of her voice:

‘Perceval the wretched! Damn you! You don’t deserve an ounce of luck! You were at the house of your grandfather the rich Fisher King, and saw pass before you the vessel that contains Our Lord’s blood, which is called the Grail. Three times you saw it pass, but still you didn’t have the wit to ask about it! I tell you God hates you: it’s a wonder He doesn’t strike you dead!’

Hearing this, Perceval came riding towards her, begging her in God’s name to tell him the truth about what he had seen. And she said: ‘Didn’t you lie last night at the house of your grandfather Bron, that man of such high lineage? And didn’t you see the Grail and the other relics pass before you? Know then that if you’d asked what the Grail was for, your grandfather the king would have been healed of his infirmity and restored to health, and the prophecy that Our Lord made to Joseph would have been fulfilled. And you would have had your uncle’s blessing and your heart’s deepest desire – and the blood of Christ in your keeping. After your death you would have joined the company of Christ’s chosen ones, and the enchantments and evils which now beset the land of Britain would have been cast out. But I know why you’ve lost all this. It’s because you’re not wise or worthy enough, and have done too few deeds of arms and prowess and too few acts of goodness to have the precious vessel in your keeping.’

Perceval was astounded by the damsel’s words, and so distressed that he began to weep; and he said he would not rest until he had found his grandfather’s house and asked everything just as the damsel had said. With that he left her, commending her to God; and she, in tears, did likewise. And he rode back along the path that he thought would take him to the house of his grandfather the Fisher King; but he was way off the track, and rode on in great dejection. Two days and nights he rode, with nothing to eat except apples and other fruit he found in the forest, and he prayed to Our Lord for guidance.

*

After riding a whole day without encountering any adventure, he looked ahead and saw one of the loveliest damsels in the world, and beside her was tethered the most beautiful palfrey. And above the palfrey, tied to the branch of a tree, was the head he had cut from the white hart. Perceval was filled with joy; he galloped up and, without a word to the damsel, seized the head and pulled it from the tree. She was furious at this and cried: ‘Knight, put down my lord’s head – I tell you, if you take it away it’ll be the worse for you!’

But Perceval began to laugh and said: ‘Damsel, I’ve no intention of putting it down! I’m taking it to the one to whom I’ve pledged it.’

But while he was speaking to her he saw a doe running towards him in great alarm, and his hound behind her in hot pursuit; it caught her by the legs, and the doe was so terrified that she came to Perceval and the damsel as if begging for mercy. Perceval was overjoyed to see his hound, and took him on to his horse and stroked him with the greatest affection. As he was doing so, he saw the knight who had stolen him riding his way. As soon as he caught sight of Perceval he cried in anger: ‘By God, you worthless knight, you’ll be sorry you took my dog!’

Perceval thought him mad and said: ‘You’re crazy to call him yours: you wickedly stole him from me.’

At this the knight challenged him, and Perceval did likewise; and they drew apart and then spurred into such a furious charge that the whole wood resounded; and they struck each other such mighty blows that neither could save himself from crashing to the ground. But they leapt up instantly and drew their swords in a fury. They did combat for a long while, from noon till none.13 I tell you, Perceval was exhausted, and so was the knight; but Perceval found new strength and, ashamed that the knight had resisted so long, raised his sword and brought it down from on high with such force that he split his shield in two, right down to the boss: such a great and fearsome blow it was that it crashed down on his helmet; it could not pierce the steel, but went plummeting down, stripping more than a hundred rings from the mailcoat, smashing off a spur and plunging two feet into the earth. The blow filled the knight with the utmost terror, and he realised that if Perceval dealt him another like it he would kill him. He drew back and begged him for mercy in God’s name, and to spare his life whatever he might have done. And Perceval said: ‘Then tell me why you stole my hound, and who the knight was I was fighting when you took him, and whether you know the old woman who sent me to the tomb.’

‘I will indeed,’ said the knight. ‘I’ll tell you everything.’

‘If you do,’ said Perceval, ‘you needn’t fear death.’

‘Know then,’ the knight replied, ‘that the one who came from the tomb was my brother, and he was one of the finest knights to be found anywhere, until a beautiful fairy fell in love with him, smitten by his obvious prowess. And the moment my brother set eyes on her he was so love-stricken that he almost lost his senses whenever he was with her. The time came when she told him there was somewhere she wished to take him, and he agreed to go with her, provided it wouldn’t cost him his knighthood. She promised it was a place where he could engage more in deeds of arms than any man, for it was frequented by all the knights of Arthur’s court. And she led him to this forest where, beside the path you saw when you passed the tomb, they found one of the most beautiful meadows in the world. They dismounted, and spread cloths on the grass and ate together with great pleasure. When they had eaten my brother lay down to sleep; and after sleeping as long as he wished he awoke, and found himself in a magnificent castle with knights and ladies and damsels all ready to serve him. This castle stands beside the tomb, but it’s invisible; and it was from there that the knight rode when he came to do battle with you. As for the old woman who directed you to the tomb, I tell you, when she wishes she’s the most beautiful damsel you ever saw: it was she who placed the tomb there, and she’s the very one who led my brother into the forest. I promise you, everything I’ve told you is true.’

Perceval was thrilled by the story, and said: ‘By God, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard!’

Then he asked the knight if he could direct him to the house of the rich Fisher King, but he replied: ‘I’ve no idea where it is, truly, and I’ve never heard of any knight finding it – though I’ve seen plenty searching!’

Then Perceval asked him if he knew who the damsel was who had given him the hound, and the knight replied that he knew her well.

‘She’s the sister of the damsel that my brother loves. That’s why she entrusted the dog to you – she was well aware that her sister would lead you to fight her sweetheart. You must understand that she despises her because of him, for he’s brought to grief every knight who passed this way, and the damsel who gave you the dog knew that sooner or later a knight would come who’d avenge all the others.’

Then Perceval asked if it was far to her castle, and he said: ‘If you keep to this path here to the left, you’ll reach it before nightfall.’

Perceval was overjoyed at this, and set off at once. But he first made the knight promise to declare himself a prisoner to the great King Arthur, to which he agreed, and he made his way to Arthur’s court and submitted to him in the name of Perceval the Welshman, and the king gladly accepted him into his company and declared him free of imprisonment.

*

Meanwhile Perceval, after leaving the knight, rode swiftly on until he came to the castle of the damsel who had given him the hound. She was at the windows of the tower, and as soon as she saw him coming she came down to meet him and welcomed him with the greatest joy, saying: ‘Sir knight, I was about to be angry with you! I wouldn’t have been without my hound so long for anything, if I’d had my way.’

‘Damsel,’ Perceval replied, ‘I couldn’t help it: there are very good reasons for my delay.’

Then he told her the whole story from start to finish: of the old woman who had stolen the dog and how she had sent him to the tomb; how he had done battle with the knight and vanquished him, and how the knight had fled back into the tomb; how the other knight had taken the dog and how he had searched for it, not wanting to return without it; and how he had tracked the knight down in the wood and defeated him in combat. He told her everything exactly as it had happened, relating all the hardships he had endured since he left her. The damsel was delighted by the story, and pardoned him very graciously. She had him disarm, and then took him with her most welcomingly, saying:

‘Since you’ve vanquished the one I hated so much, my sister’s sweetheart, I wish to be at your command evermore: you shall be lord of this castle, and I’d have you stay here with me forever.’

But Perceval was downcast at this, and excused himself as kindly as he could, for he had no desire to stay.

‘Damsel,’ he said, ‘I’m eager to do your will: I’ll do whatever you reasonably ask. But at the court of the great King Arthur I vowed to lie no more than one night wherever I took lodging until I’d fulfilled my quest. I’d have you honour this.’

At this time it was the custom that a man would rather be beheaded than break his oath, and when the damsel heard his words she said: ‘Truly, sir, anyone who made you break your promise would be no friend to you: I wouldn’t dare to plead against what you’ve said. But I’d ask this much: that if God grants you success in your quest, you’ll return to me swiftly.’

‘Damsel,’ he replied, ‘there’s no need to ask! There’s nothing I desire so much as to spend time with you, if God grants that I achieve my goal.’

With that he asked her leave and called for his arms. Hearing this, she said: ‘In God’s name, sir, what do you mean? Won’t you stay with me tonight?’

‘It’s impossible, lady,’ he replied. ‘I’d be breaking my oath, for I’ve already lain here before.’

The damsel was desperately upset, but saw there was nothing she could do; so she commended him to God – weeping as she did so, for she would much rather he had stayed than gone. But Perceval had no desire to sin, and Our Lord was not willing to let him. So he left her, and once he was on his way he rode at great speed, and slept that night in the forest.

*

And I tell you, after that he rode for seven years through the lands and forests in search of adventures, and every adventure and marvel and test of chivalry he encountered he brought to a successful outcome. And in those seven years he sent more than a hundred prisoners to the court of the great King Arthur. But for all the wonders he found and the things he saw, he could not find the house of his grandfather the rich Fisher King, and he became so distracted and lost his senses and memory to such a degree that in those seven years he gave no thought to God and never set foot in any holy church or minster. And on the day of the blessed cross when Our Lord suffered death for sinners, Perceval was riding along, fully armed, ready to defend himself and to do others damage if he met with a challenge; but what he met was a band of ladies and knights with heads bowed, wrapped in cloaks and hoods, praying to Christ for forgiveness for their sins. They stopped him and asked what could possibly be the matter, that on the day when Our Lord suffered on the cross he should be armed and ready to kill men and to seek adventures. When Perceval heard them speak of God he was brought back to his senses by the will of Christ, and he deeply repented of his long madness and swiftly disarmed. And the story says that, by the will of God, he found his way to the house of his uncle the hermit, where his sister had once taken him to make confession. And he made confession now, and accepted the penance he imposed, and stayed with him for two months.

But Chrétien de Troyes says nothing of this – nor do the other trouvères who have turned these stories into jolly rhymes. But we tell only what matters to the story: the things that Merlin dictated to his master Blaise who lived in Northumberland, and who was so old that he could barely support himself. Merlin saw and knew exactly what befell Perceval each day, and he had Blaise record these adventures for the worthy people who would be eager to hear them told. And we find in Blaise’s writings, dictated with authority by Merlin, that Perceval stayed at his uncle’s house for two months. Now, by the time he arrived there, his sister had died and passed from this world. He said: ‘Sir, I’m going to go and see my sister, for I love her dearly.’

And when the hermit heard this he began to weep, and replied: ‘Dear nephew, you’ll never see her again, for she died a year and a half ago. I was most upset when I heard of her death, and went and had her brought back here, and buried her outside my house.’

When Perceval heard his sister had passed away he was filled with grief: he could not have stopped weeping for all the gold in the world. And he said to his uncle: ‘In God’s name, sir, take me to where my sister lies, who loved me so much.’

‘Gladly,’ said the worthy man, and he led him straight to her tomb and said: ‘Dear nephew, this is where your sister lies buried.’

At this Perceval began to weep; and together they said prayers for her soul. After they had prayed the hermit said to him: ‘Dear nephew, why don’t you go to your family home – to the house of Alain li Gros, your father and my brother? You are its master now.’

‘So help me God, sir,’ he replied, ‘I wouldn’t go there for all King Arthur’s kingdom! It would grieve me terribly to see my father’s house bereft of loved ones, for I wouldn’t find a soul there that I knew.’

‘It wouldn’t be like that, dear nephew, truly,’ said the hermit; but Perceval said: ‘Uncle, I’m going now by your leave. And I tell you, I’ll never rest until I’ve found the house of my grandfather – your father.’

When the hermit heard this he said: ‘Dear nephew, I shall pray to Our Lord, the Lord God Jesus Christ, that He may guide you there.’

*

With that Perceval took his leave and departed, and rode on through the forest until the eighth day of Pentecost. All that day he rode till none14 without encountering any adventure; then he looked ahead and saw four squires riding along, each with a shield slung at his neck. They were leading horses and packhorses by the bridle, and pulling a cart laden with lances. As soon as he saw them Perceval spurred after them, and asked where they were taking all that equipment and in whose service they were.

‘Good sir,’ they replied, ‘we serve Melian de Lis, and we’re on our way to the tournament that’s taking place at the White Castle, home of one of the loveliest damsels in the world. All who’ve seen her swear that if the beautiful features of all the world’s ladies were combined in one they wouldn’t match hers! And her beauty is equalled by her wealth. Many knights have asked for her hand, and counts and dukes and other lords, but she refuses to listen to any of them! But now the lady of the White Castle has announced a tournament to be held in the presence of this illustrious daughter of hers, with the promise that whoever wins the tourney will have the damsel – no matter how poor a young knight he may be, for she will make him a rich man, placing her and all she possesses at his command. I tell you, whoever God blesses with such fortune will be the wealthiest man in the world and the best provided in the land of Britain, except King Arthur. That’s why Sir Melian de Lis is going there, for he’s been in love with her for a good while and longs to win the tournament and have the damsel for his wife.’

Then Perceval asked them when they thought the tournament would be, and they replied: ‘In three days from now, good sir.’

And he asked if there would be many knights there. One of the boys laughed and said: ‘There’s no need to ask that, sir knight! For the tournament was announced at the court of the great King Arthur, and I know for sure that all the knights of the Round Table will be coming, for they all returned at Pentecost from the quest of the Grail where they’ve had no success at all. King Arthur held the greatest feast at Pentecost that he’s ever done, and that’s when the tourney was announced; and I tell you, more than five thousand will be coming from his court. I know Sir Gawain’s coming, and Lancelot of the Lake, and Kay the seneschal and Bedivere; and Mordred and Guirres and Garries, Sir Gawain’s three brothers. Kay the seneschal boasted before all the barons that he would win her hand by deeds of arms and bring her back to Arthur’s court! The knights found this hilarious and ludicrous, and even King Arthur – after a stern rebuke – kept mocking him. The king also said that if Perceval heard of the tournament he’d be there, and that he’d find no-one who could withstand him, for he’s sent more than a hundred and fifty knights as prisoners to Arthur’s court. The king’s very upset that Perceval’s not there with him now, and is sure he’s dead. We’ve told you the truth about what you asked: now tell us if you’ll come with us.’

Perceval replied that he wouldn’t for the time being, and the boy said: ‘You’re right, so help me God, for it wouldn’t help you much in achieving your goal.’

And with that the boys left Perceval and continued their journey. Perceval headed the other way, but thought he would make for the tournament. He rode on at a walk until evening, when he looked ahead along the path and saw a modest vassal’s house, all enclosed by a wall. Perceval was very pleased to find this, and rode swiftly up and found the nobleman sitting on the bridge, and six boys with him, all watching passers by on their way to the tournament. As soon as the gentleman saw Perceval approaching he stepped forward to greet him, welcoming him heartily and gladly offering him lodging. Perceval was delighted and thanked him deeply and dismounted at once. The boys jumped up and helped him to disarm, and one took his horse to the stable and made him as comfortable as he could while the others took his arms to a chamber, leaving him quite undressed. The gentleman looked at him in admiration, for he was the most handsome knight in the world, and muttered to himself, out of Perceval’s hearing: ‘It would be a great shame if such a handsome knight lacked valour.’

Then two boys came and dressed him in a mantle, and he sat beside the gentleman and watched the stream of knights and equipment that was passing that way. He asked him if it was far to the White Castle, and he replied: ‘You’ll be there in the morning before prime.’15

Then Perceval asked: ‘Have many knights passed by today on their way to the tourney?’

‘Just before you arrived,’ he replied, ‘the knights of Arthur’s court came by. I tell you, there were more than five hundred in the company, with the most magnificent equipment you ever saw.’

When Perceval heard this he was overjoyed. They sat there until nightfall, when the gentleman asked his servants if they could eat soon, and they said: ‘Yes, in just a moment.’

So he went up to the hall, taking Perceval by the hand and treating him with the greatest honour. He gave orders for the tables to be set and it was done at once. And when all was ready his wife came from her chamber, accompanied by her two daughters, who were beautiful, intelligent and well-mannered girls. They gave Perceval a most noble welcome, and were seated at the table beside him. The lady and her daughters paid Perceval a deal of attention that night: they were sure they had never seen a knight so handsome. After they had dined the table was cleared away, and the gentleman asked Perceval if he had come that way because of the tournament. Perceval replied: ‘I was only told about it yesterday by Melian de Lis’s squires: they were on their way there with his equipment.’

‘He’s the one for whom the tournament’s being held!’ the gentleman said. ‘The vespers16 are due to take place tomorrow. If I may be so bold, I’d ask you to come with me.’

‘Dear host,’ Perceval replied, ‘I’d be glad to repay you by doing so, but I’ll not take up arms tomorrow at any price.’

‘I shan’t press you against your will,’ he said.

Then the beds were prepared, and four boys took Perceval to lie in a splendid bed until the next morning, when the boys were soon up and about in the courtyard; and as soon as Perceval saw it was light he arose to find that the gentleman of the house was already up; and they went to hear mass in a most handsome chapel. And when mass had been sung they returned to the hall and ate with great pleasure, after which the gentleman went down to the yard and called for the horses to be made ready. He had Perceval’s arms loaded on a packhorse; then they mounted at once and went to see the tournament.

It had begun with fearsome vigour. Before they even got there the tourneyers’ banners had appeared on the field; there were so many handsome shields and magnificent horses to be seen, and splendid arms and rich silken banners: never in Arthur’s time had a tournament been graced with so much fine armour and so many fine knights. And I tell you, Melian de Lis had ridden onto the field magnificently armed, with a gold shield superbly emblazoned with two lions, and around his arm was tied the sleeve of the damsel of the castle. With the utmost pride he rode, accompanied by fifty knights in splendid array. Then the heralds cried:

‘On with your helms!’

– at which there was a great roar, and the hearts of cowards trembled. You never saw a tournament engaged with such fury: Melian de Lis went charging ahead of everyone, faster than an arrow from a bow, desperate to impress his love with his chivalry; and as soon as Sir Gawain saw him he charged to meet him, and they came at one another faster than a falcon or a swallow and exchanged such awesome blows with their lances that their shields split and shattered; but the lances were stopped by their mailcoats and the broken shafts flew skywards, and they rode past each other, heads held high, neither having lost his stirrups.

Then the companies assembled rapidly, and charged at each other to strike through shield and mailcoat; and when lances splintered, swords were drawn. There you would have seen the most fearsome tournament ever witnessed, with banners charging one at another in more than five hundred places. Melian de Lis charged time and again, winning horses and sending them back to the damsel in the castle, much to her delight. On the wall of the White Castle, I promise you, more than three hundred ladies and damsels stood watching, pointing out to each other the most accomplished knights, inspiring all those involved in the tournament to drive themselves to the limit. Sir Gawain and Lancelot and the knights of the Round Table were ploughing through the battle-lines, toppling every knight they met; and on the other side Melian de Lis and his company were performing wonders. The tournament continued until nightfall when it finally broke up. Sir Gawain and Yvain and Lancelot and Kay the seneschal had all done brilliantly, but so had Melian de Lis, and the ladies of the castle did not know who should have the prize: they said they had all performed so well that they could not choose a winner. The damsel said that Melian de Lis had done best, but her mother, the lady of the White Castle, did not agree, and most of them declared in favour of Gawain. A great argument broke out, until the damsel said: ‘Tomorrow we’ll see who’s the finest and who should have the prize!’

They left it at that. And Melian de Lis entered the castle, as did Sir Gawain and Lancelot and Kay the seneschal and the knights of the Round Table; and I tell you, such magnificent lodging was never seen at any tournament.

Meanwhile, when the vespers tourneying broke up, Perceval returned with his host to his castle, which was not far away; and as soon as they dismounted boys came out to meet them, and took their horses away and stabled them splendidly. Perceval and his host took each other by the hand and climbed up to the hall, where the gentleman called for the table to be set, which was done at once, and they sat down to dine. Then he began to talk of the tournament, and asked Perceval who he thought had done best; and Perceval replied that the one with the gold shield with the two lions had performed like a very good knight, but the one with the white shield had done best of all.

‘The one with the gold shield with the two lions,’ said his host, ‘was Melian de Lis, and the knight with the white shield was King Arthur’s nephew Gawain.’

‘I wouldn’t exchange donning my arms and jousting tomorrow,’ said Perceval then, ‘for a mound of gold as big as this castle! And, by God, I’d like Gawain and Melian de Lis to fight on the same side, so that I could joust against them!’

When the gentleman and his daughters heard this they were overjoyed, and he said to Perceval: ‘I’ll take up arms, too, out of love for you, and accompany you tomorrow!’

Perceval was delighted and thanked him heartily. And so it was agreed; and soon the time came for them to take to their beds.

They slept till morning when Perceval and his host arose and went to hear mass in the chapel; and after mass they returned to the hall and breakfasted on bread and wine. Then the elder of the gentleman’s daughters came and asked Perceval out of love for her to wear her sleeve at the tournament. He was pleased indeed, and said that out of love for her he hoped to do greater feats of arms that day than he had ever done before: her father was filled with joy. Then the boys mounted with all the equipment, and Perceval and his host did likewise, and off they rode to the White Castle.

By the time they reached the place where the tourneyers were lodged they were arming and some were already mounted. They looked at all the knights, and the ladies and damsels who had climbed up to the walls, and when Perceval saw they were all preparing he called for his arms and clad himself in splendid armour that he had borrowed from his host – he did not want to use his own because he wished to go unrecognised. And know this: Melian de Lis had lodged that night with Sir Gawain, and they had brashly determined to smash the outsiders.17 The damsels were not pleased, for the day before he had been against Sir Gawain; but the lady’s daughter was willing to forgive them, saying that the outsiders had gained three new banners since the previous day, so the castle company would struggle without Melian’s help. The outsiders were dismayed at the news, but Saigremor said it was not going to stop him engaging; and when Perceval heard the news he was elated, and said to his host: ‘They’ll wish they’d stayed out of it altogether!’

Then the tourneyers came riding from the castle, and both sides deployed in magnificent array. As soon as they were in order the squires and heralds cried:

‘On with your helms!’

And at that cry you would have seen both sides surge forward, and the knight with the swiftest horse was a happy man indeed. Melian de Lis went charging ahead of them all, and Perceval’s heart leapt at the sight of him. He charged to meet him furiously, the damsel’s sleeve on his arm; and when the damsels on the wall saw him they all said together: ‘Look there – the most handsome knight you ever beheld!’

They came galloping with all the speed their mounts could summon, and shattered their lances on their shields, the splinters flying skyward; and Perceval, brimming with strength and courage, struck him so mightily on chest and helm that he sent him crashing to the ground, almost breaking his neck; his right arm indeed was broken in two, and he fainted with the pain fully fourteen times. Perceval had spurred to such a speed that as he galloped on past he met Kay the seneschal, and struck him such a blow that he did not know whether it was day or night, and sent him flying from his horse and left him stretched out on the ground. When the outsiders saw Perceval’s wondrous feat of chivalry they went spurring after him; Sir Gawain and Lancelot charged to meet them, and the companies clashed so mightily that they made the earth tremble. Saigremor the Rash, who had joined the outsiders, fought splendidly, and performed such feats of arms that day that he earned the praise and admiration of all who saw him. Lancelot and Sir Gawain for their part fought awesomely, and made the battle-lines buckle before them. But Perceval surpassed all other knights, bringing horse and rider crashing to the ground whenever he met an opponent; and the ladies and damsels on the wall said that the woman who had given him her sleeve had chosen well, for whoever won that knight’s love should count herself lucky – he toppled every knight he met. So said the damsels who were watching from the tower. Sir Gawain was most upset at seeing Perceval do such damage to his company, and he collected a lance from a squire and came charging at him; but when Perceval saw him he showed little fear, even though he knew Gawain to be a most worthy knight. They exchanged great blows on their shields – their lances shattered and flew into splinters – and they struck each other mightily as they passed; Sir Gawain had the worst of it, both he and his horse crashing to the ground, and his horse broke his neck and died.

The castle company were aghast at this and turned tail, and when Sir Gawain saw his side in flight he was distraught, and leapt to his feet and drew his sword, and a knight cried out: ‘By God, sir knight, so you’re holding out against us!’

And he flung himself at Gawain, intent on tearing the helmet from his head; Gawain was incensed and came to meet him, and raised his sword and dealt the knight such a terrible blow that he clove his head right down to the teeth and struck him to the ground. He grabbed the knight’s horse and mounted and galloped after his men, bringing down four knights on the way. But his side had all rushed into the castle, the outsiders pursuing them right to the gates, taking a good deal of equipment and horses and prisoners.

As soon as the victory was complete, Perceval came to his host and presented him with three of the finest horses he had captured, asking that his daughter should have them in return for the sleeve he had worn. His host thanked him deeply, and then Perceval said: ‘Let’s go now, sir, for I’d like to lodge with you again tonight.’

As Perceval and the gentleman and his squires were making their way back, they saw a man approaching, old and bearded but decently dressed, and carrying a scythe on his shoulder: he appeared to be a reaper. He came to meet them, grabbed Perceval’s horse by the reins and said: ‘You silly fool! You shouldn’t be tourneying!’

Perceval was astounded and said: ‘What’s it to do with you, old man?’

‘A lot,’ he replied. ‘It matters to me and to others. It’s your business, and mine, and other men’s – and mine more than anyone’s, I assure you.’

Perceval, thoroughly taken aback, asked him: ‘Who are you?’

And the man replied: ‘I’m the son of one you barely know – he knows you better than you know him. But I tell you, no man benefits from his knowing them – it’s likely to bring nothing but grief!’

Perceval was bewildered by his words and said: ‘Would you explain yourself if I dismounted?’

‘There’s something I’d tell you,’ he replied, ‘but not in front of others.’

Perceval was relieved at this, and said to his host: ‘Carry on, good sir, and wait for me at your house. I’m going to talk to this worthy man and then I’ll follow you.’

‘Gladly, sir,’ his host replied, and rode away, leaving Perceval with the old man. He stepped up to him and asked him who he was, and he replied: ‘I’m a reaper, you can see.’

‘Then who told you so much about me?’ Perceval asked.

‘I knew your name,’ he answered, ‘before you were born.’

Perceval was amazed and said: ‘I implore you in God’s name, tell me what this is about. What’s your business? Tell me, for God’s sake, I beg you.’

‘I won’t lie to you,’ the old man said. ‘My name is Merlin, and I’ve come from Northumberland to speak to you.’

Perceval was astonished and said: ‘By God, Merlin, I’ve heard so much about you and what a great seer you are. So tell me, in God’s name, how I can find the house of the rich Fisher King.’

‘I will indeed,’ Merlin replied. ‘Know this: God has set obstacles in your path because of your broken vow. You swore you’d lie no more than one night at any lodging, but you’ve spent two nights at that gentleman’s house and were intending to spend another now!’

‘I’d completely forgotten!’ said Perceval.

‘Then it’s easier to forgive you,’ Merlin answered. ‘I’ll put you on a path to your grandfather’s house that’ll bring you there in less than a year.’

‘In God’s name, Merlin,’ Perceval said, ‘can’t you get me there sooner?’

‘It’s simple and not simple,’ Merlin replied. ‘You could be there by tonight, but you’ll make it in under a year. But don’t be a fool when you get there: make sure you ask about the things you see.’

‘I will indeed, sir,’ said Perceval, ‘if God grants that I reach that house.’

‘I’m going now,’ said Merlin. ‘I’m not saying any more to you, but your faith should now be stronger. And when the time comes that you have Christ’s vessel in your keeping, I’ll bring my tutor who’s recorded your deeds – and some of mine, though not all. But now I’m going.’

And he went: Perceval looked, and he was nowhere to be seen. He raised his hand and crossed himself, and then went to his horse and mounted, and set off along the path that Merlin had shown him. He rode on until, by Our Lord’s will, he saw – on the very day that Merlin had said – his grandfather’s house. He rode up to the gate and dismounted outside the hall.

Two servants came to meet him and welcomed him heartily, and helped him to disarm and stabled his horse with the utmost care; then they led him to the hall where his grandfather the king lay. And as soon as he saw Perceval he did his best to rise, overjoyed at his coming; and Perceval sat down beside him, and they spoke together of many things. Finally the king called for the table to be set; it was no sooner said than done, and they sat down to dine.

Just after the first course had been served, the lance with the bleeding head came out of a chamber, and after it came the Grail, and the damsel carrying the little silver platters. And Perceval, who could not wait to ask the question, said to the king: ‘Sire, by the faith you owe me and all men, tell me the purpose of these things I see.’

And as soon as he had said this, he looked up and saw that the Fisher King was utterly changed, cured of his sickness, as fit as a fish! Perceval was filled with wonder. And the king jumped up and was about to kiss Perceval’s feet, but he would not let him. Then all the boys of the house came running up and hailed Perceval with the utmost joy. At last he came to his senses and said: ‘Sire, you should know that Alain li Gros – your son, sire – was my father.’

When the Fisher King heard this his elation redoubled, and he said: ‘Dear nephew, I’m very glad you’ve come!’ And with that he knelt down and gave thanks to Our Lord; then he took Perceval by the hand and led him before the vessel and said: ‘Dear nephew, this is the lance with which Longinus struck Christ on the cross. And this vessel, called the Grail, holds the blood that Joseph gathered as it flowed from His wounds to the earth. We call it the Grail because it delights18 the hearts of all worthy men and all those who can stay in its presence – it will not tolerate the presence of the sinful. Now I shall pray to Our Lord to send me guidance in regard to you.’

With that Bron knelt before his vessel and said: ‘Dear Lord God, as surely as this is your blessed blood, which you granted I should be given after the death of Joseph, and which I have guarded ever since, send me a true sign of what should become of it henceforth.’

And thereupon the voice of the Holy Spirit descended, and said to him:

‘Bron, the prophecy that Our Lord made to Joseph will now be fulfilled. Our Lord bids you entrust to this man’s keeping the sacred words that He taught Joseph when He gave him19 the Grail in prison. And in three days from now you will leave this world and join the company of the apostles.’

With that the voice departed. And Bron did as it had instructed, and taught Perceval the sacred words that Joseph had taught him, which I cannot – and must not – tell you. And he taught him all about the faith of Our Lord, and how he had seen Him as a little child and in the temple where He had disputed with the elders; and how the great men of the land of Judaea had taken against Him, and how He had had a false disciple who had sold Him to the Jews; how he had seen Him crucified, and how his brother-in-law Joseph had asked for His body, which Pilate granted, and had taken Him down from the cross; and when he laid Him on the ground he had seen His blood flowing into the earth and, distressed by this, had gathered it in a vessel – ‘the very one you see here, which cannot abide the presence of sinners’.

He told him all about the life his good ancestor had led; and Perceval delighted in his words, and at once was filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit. Then the aged Bron placed the vessel in Perceval’s hands, and from it came a melody and a perfume so sweet that they thought they were with the angels in Paradise.

Bron, who was well advanced in years, spent the whole of the next three days with Perceval; and on the third day he came and lay before the vessel, his arms spread wide to form a cross, and offered thanks to Our Lord. And with that he passed away. And at his passing Perceval looked up and saw David with his harp and a great host of angels with censers waiting to receive Bron’s soul, and they carried him away to dwell in majesty with his heavenly Father whom he had served so long.

And there the illustrious Perceval remained; and all the enchantments that had beset the world were cast out and broken. And on that very day King Arthur was seated at the Round Table established by Merlin, and they all heard a grinding so terrible that they were filled with fear, and the stone that had split apart when Perceval had sat in the empty seat joined together once more. They were filled with awe, not knowing what this signified.

Then Merlin came to Blaise and told him of these things, and Blaise replied: ‘Merlin, you told me that when this business was done you would put me in the company of the Grail.’

‘Blaise,’ said Merlin, ‘you’ll be there before tomorrow dawns.’

And with that Merlin took Blaise and led him to the house of the Fisher King – whose name was Perceval – and there he stayed in the company of the Grail.

When Merlin had brought this business to a close he came to Arthur’s court at Carduel. Arthur was delighted to see him, and his men said he should ask Merlin the significance of the stone that had mended at the Round Table.

‘I shall indeed,’ said the king, ‘if he’s willing.’

‘Arthur,’ Merlin replied, ‘you should know that your reign has seen the fulfilling of the greatest prophecy of all time. For the Fisher King is healed, and the enchantments of the land of Britain are cast out. And Perceval is lord of the Grail by Our Lord’s decree. You can clearly see what a worthy man he is, when Our Lord entrusts His precious blood to his keeping; and that is why the stone that split beneath him is now repaired. And Gawain and Kay the seneschal should know that it was Perceval himself who won the tournament at the White Castle and laid them out on the ground. But now, I promise you, he has taken his leave of chivalry, and wishes to live henceforth in the grace of his Creator.’

When the king and his barons heard this they all wept as one, and prayed to Our Lord to bring Perceval to a good end. Then Merlin took his leave of the king and returned to Blaise and Perceval, and had Blaise set everything down in writing.

*

But the barons at Arthur’s court were most downcast at the news that the enchantments and adventures were ended, and the young men and squires and knights of the Round Table said they would stay with King Arthur no longer, but would cross the sea to seek out knightly deeds. When Kay the seneschal heard this he was most distressed, and came to the king and said:

‘Sire, all your barons are intending to leave you and go to foreign lands in search of adventure. But you’re the most esteemed king of all time in the land of Britain, and have the finest company of knights ever known. Remember, there have been three kings of Britain who’ve also been king of France and emperor of Rome, and Merlin said you would be likewise, and you know very well that Merlin’s the wisest man in the world and not inclined to lie. If your knights leave you and go seeking adventure abroad, you’ll never assemble them all again. Don’t be dilatory, my lord, or you’ll lose the mighty reputation you’ve enjoyed so long! Cross the sea and conquer France and Normandy, and divide them amongst your barons who’ve given you long service. We’ll do everything in our power to help you.’

Arthur was inspired by these words, and he came to his barons and sought their advice in the matter. Each gave his own reaction, all offering help most willingly. When Arthur heard he had the support of the finest men of his kingdom he leapt for joy, and had letters sealed and carried throughout the land by fifty messengers, declaring that no man able to give aid should fail to come, for he would repay each one with gifts enough to make them rich men. The messengers did their work, and assembled such a massive host that before the month was out they numbered more than a hundred thousand. The king was jubilant, and rode to see them with Sir Gawain and Kay the seneschal and King Lot of Orkney. He went to every tent, greeting each noble man with joy and winning their hearts and distributing splendid gifts. And they all cried:

‘King Arthur, you’re losing the whole world by your langour, for truly, if you shared our heart we’d conquer France and Normandy and Rome and all Lombardy for you – we’d have you bear the crown as far as Jerusalem, and you’d be lord of all the world!’

So said the Britons to their lord Arthur. The king was elated by their words, and swore upon his life that he would not stop until he had conquered France if nothing else. Then he summoned all the carpenters of the land and had them build the most magnificent fleet ever known, and when the ships and galleys were ready they came to port and provisioned them with bread and wine and meat and salt and arms and cloth. Then the knights embarked, taking with them the finest horses. In his absence the king entrusted his land to his wife the queen and to Mordred, who was Sir Gawain’s brother and the son of King Lot of Orkney – and much disposed to evil. Then Arthur took his leave and came down to the port, and they sailed by the wind and the stars.

Across the sea they went, until the fleet reached Normandy. And as soon as they landed they rode out across the country seizing men, women and loot and laying waste the land. I tell you, no land was ever so woefully ravaged; and when the duke heard the news he pleaded for a truce until they had spoken together, and King Arthur agreed. And he came to Arthur’s army and became his liegeman, saying he would hold the land as his vassal and pay him tribute; the king was delighted to accept his terms. And the duke had a most beautiful daughter, whom the king gave to Kay the seneschal along with lordship of all the duke’s land.

Then Arthur set out and crossed the duchy and entered the land of the king of France. At this time France’s king was named Floire. Alarmed at the news of Arthur’s approach, he summoned his troops from every part of the land to meet at Paris. A vast number of knights assembled, and Floire declared that he would await Arthur there. Hearing this, Arthur rode to meet him, and came to within two leagues of the French host. When King Floire heard of his coming, he chose two messengers to go to Arthur’s army and said: ‘Good messengers, you’re to go straight to the Britons and tell King Arthur there’s no need to have knights killed for the sake of conquering the land. Tell him that if he’s brave enough to contest the kingship of France in single combat, me against him, I’m ready to do battle; and either he’ll have France or I’ll have Britain.’

The messengers came at once to Arthur’s army and asked for him, and they were shown to his pavilion. They rode up and dismounted, and went in and greeted him and delivered their lord’s message word for word, keeping nothing back. And when he heard what they had to say, Arthur replied: ‘Sirs, tell King Floire, whose subjects you are, that I’ll do as he has bidden. Tell him I wouldn’t fail to meet his challenge for all the land of Britain.’

‘We want you to swear,’ they replied, ‘that he’ll have nothing to fear from anyone but you.’

The king gave them his word, and all the greatest of the Britons swore that if King Arthur was killed they would return home and hold their lands as King Floire’s vassals. The messengers for their part vowed that if King Floire was killed, they would surrender all the castles of France and pay homage to Arthur. It was agreed that the combat would take place in fifteen days. Then the messengers returned and delivered Arthur’s reply to King Floire, while the Britons moved camp to within a stone’s throw of the city walls. A truce was declared by both sides, so the Britons went into Paris to buy food.

The time passed and the day agreed by the king arrived. Both kings prepared for combat, donning the most magnificent royal armour; then they crossed to an island outside Paris and mounted their finest horses. The French and Britons, as agreed, stood in peace, unarmed spectators, praying for Our Lord’s mercy as they watched their lords risking death to win honour. On the island the two kings drew apart, putting the range of two bowshots20 between them, and then came charging at each other at such a speed and exchanged such mighty blows on their shields that their lances shattered and splinters flew, and they collided, chests and heads together, with such force that they brought each other crashing from their horses to the ground. Arthur was the first to leap to his feet, and he drew his fine steel sword Excalibur and advanced upon Floire. King Floire jumped up in turn and boldly drew his sword, and towards each other they came. I tell you, both the French and the Britons were praying for their lords while the two kings, with little love lost between them, attacked each other with their swords. King Floire was mightily brave and bold, and very sure of his strength. With sword clutched tight in his right hand he dealt a blow upon Arthur’s shield, splitting it and hacking off a great piece; so mighty was the blow that as it flashed down it smashed three hundred rings from Arthur’s mailcoat and cut into his thigh, taking with it a handful or more of flesh, and down it came still, severing a spur and three toes from his foot before it plunged a full yard into the earth. Arthur was stunned by the blow, and Floire gave a mighty barge with his shoulder that nearly brought him to the ground. When the Britons and Sir Gawain saw this they were aghast and in terror for their lord, for King Floire was a head and helmet taller than Arthur and now looked bolder and stronger, too. They feared the worst; and when King Arthur saw his people trembling and in fear for him, he was filled with shame and anguish. With his sword Excalibur in his right hand he advanced on the king who was waiting for him in the middle of the field and struck him on the shield with all his fury; he smashed it right down to the boss, cutting away what it hit, and the blow followed through on to his helmet, sending its metal band flying; and the hood of his mailcoat could not stop the blade slicing away a chunk of his head and a fistful of hair: if the sword had not turned in his hand, it would have killed him; even so the helmet flew from his head, for the laces were broken. King Floire was incensed and went to strike Arthur on the helm, but could inflict no damage. Now he was deeply dismayed, and with blood running over his face and into his eyes he lost all sight of Arthur. His heart failed him, and he collapsed face down in the middle of the field. King Arthur was jubilant, and strode up, took his sword, brought it down and cut off his head. When the French saw that their king was dead their hearts were filled with grief and they retreated into the city, while the Britons came to their lord Arthur, set him on a horse, and led him back to his pavilion amidst the greatest celebration and swiftly disarmed him.

The king now sent two messengers to the people in Paris to find out what they meant to do: these messengers were King Lot of Orkney and his son Gawain, a very fine speaker and regarded as one of the wisest men in the army; he was indeed a good knight and skilful and judicious in speech – certainly, there was no finer knight in the land of Britain now that Perceval had abandoned chivalry. So they rode to Paris, and when the men on the walls saw them coming they opened the gates. Gawain and his father King Lot entered and greeted the twelve peers of France who were there in the city, and saw the knights and messengers who had arranged the combat between Arthur and King Floire. Gawain now addressed them, saying:

‘My lords, King Arthur bids you surrender the city as these messengers agreed. For it was decreed that Arthur and Floire would do battle on the terms I’m about to tell you – and I’ll call as witnesses these very messengers who came to our king’s tent to announce the combat. We vowed that if Arthur was defeated we would come to King Floire and pay him homage and hold our land as his vassals: such was our oath; and your messengers swore that if your king Floire was defeated, you would come to King Arthur and place yourselves at his mercy – the conditions being that you would hold your castles as his vassals and France would be under his rule. Ask your messengers, whom I believe and trust to be worthy men, if this was the agreement.’

When the citizens heard Sir Gawain speak they were most impressed by his words, and said: ‘We’ll discuss this.’

And they retired to a splendid chamber, where the noblest men of France said: ‘Sirs, we’re powerless to resist this British king who’s come against us, and haven’t enough provisions to sustain us for long – and you can be sure he’s not going to leave!’

And the messengers who had arranged the combat rose and said: ‘Sirs, we wish to fulfil the promise we made to Arthur.’

And it was agreed that they should surrender the city and pay homage and hold France as King Arthur’s vassals. Then they returned to King Lot and his son Gawain and said: ‘Sirs, we clearly can’t hold out against you, and even if we could we’d want to fulfil our promises. We will surrender France and pay homage to King Arthur, and ourselves and all we possess we place at his mercy. But in God’s name, let him rule us justly: if he does otherwise, the sin will be on his head. Let him rule us as King Floire always did.’

‘My lords,’ Gawain replied, ‘be assured that he will never treat you wrongly in any way.’

Then Gawain and his father King Lot returned to Arthur and reported everything the French had said. King Arthur was delighted by the news, and immediately ordered his army to strike camp and ride to Paris. When the people of Paris saw him approaching, churchmen and bishops and abbots came out to meet him with crosses and censers and holy relics; mint and flowers were strewn in his path; and throughout the city were set tables laden with bread and meat and game, and, for the most illustrious, fine wine and rich spices. The palace where King Arthur dismounted was draped with rich silks and festooned with decorations. Then they seated Arthur on the royal throne and brought him the crown, and crowned him king of France, swearing him faithful homage and loyalty. Arthur accepted them with a loving heart; and he spent fifty days in the land of France and bestowed many rich gifts upon his knights, and the knights of France and Normandy said they had never had such a good lord. Many of the barons of France loved Arthur more dearly than they had ever loved Floire, for he was fair of speech and knew how to gain men’s affection – not with empty words but with generous favours.

After fifty days in Paris Arthur set out across France to see if any castles were being held against him; but at every one he persuaded them to bring him the keys as he won their hearts. The news had spread throughout the land that Arthur had slain the king of France, so every castle was surrendered to him. Then King Arthur gave his nephew Gawain the march of Brittany, and to Bedivere he gave all the Vermendois, a good and fertile land; every high lord in his company was given a city or a castle. Everything was duly arranged, with governors appointed in all the castles and marches.

With France conquered, Arthur said he would stay no longer. He took his leave of the barons of the land, who escorted him a long way before turning back. He rode to where his fleet was moored in Normandy – he had left five hundred knights to guard the vessels -and embarked with all his knights. Then the mariners set the sails, the wind filled them, and they sailed from port and across the sea to Dover, where they disembarked with all their horses and palfreys. They rejoiced to see their own land again.

When Gawain’s brother Mordred heard that Arthur his uncle had returned, he mounted with the queen and fifty knights and rode to meet him, greeting him with joy. As the news spread throughout the land that King Arthur had returned and had conquered France there was jubilation among the common people, and the ladies and damsels whose sons and nephews had been with Arthur came to meet them: you never saw such joyous embraces as took place then! Then the king declared: ‘My lords, I wish all those present to join me at court at Carduel in Wales at the feast of Saint John this summer.’

This was announced throughout the army, and the king summoned the highest men of his land who all vowed to be present on Saint John’s Day. ‘For I wish,’ Arthur said, ‘to make a common division of part of my wealth: even the poorest I shall make rich!’

With that they departed, Arthur retiring to spend a while at one of his castles; and all agreed he had succeeded in a wonderful adventure, culminating in the conquest of France.

Arthur waited while the season passed and Saint John’s Day drew near. Then all the noble men of Britain assembled at his court, so many that they were beyond all counting, and a great many knights, both rich and poor. The day arrived and the king went to hear mass, sung by the archbishop who was a great support to him; and after mass he returned to his palace and had the water brought, announced by a fanfare, and the knights sat down for the feast. King Arthur was seated at the highest table, King Lot of Orkney with him. On the other side sat the kings of Denmark and Ireland: there were seven kings at the court, all at Arthur’s command.

Just as Arthur had taken his seat and the first course had been brought before him, he and his barons and the other kings looked up and saw twelve men come through the door of the hall. They were white-haired and richly dressed and carrying twelve olive branches. As they entered they saw the array of lords and knights in the king’s court and whispered to each other: ‘Truly, sirs, this is a great king indeed.’

They walked past all the tables and strode aggressively up to Arthur. There they stopped, and all remained silent except one, who spoke most haughtily, saying: ‘May the God who is omnipotent and reigns over all the world protect first the emperor of Rome and then the Pope and the senators who safeguard and uphold the faith. And may that same God confound Arthur and all who follow him, for he has transgressed against God and Holy Church and the law of Rome by severing and annexing what is Rome’s by right, and by slaying in combat the king who held his land as Rome’s vassal and paid a yearly tribute. Our amazement is matched by our contempt that such base men as you, who should be despised by the whole world, and who are slaves through and through and always have been – your ancestors likewise! – should now mean to cast off slavery and live in freedom like other men.

‘You know very well that you were all slaves to Julius Caesar and paid him tribute, and it has been received by other kings of Rome likewise: you have never been free of servitude, and we have nothing but contempt for your plans to be so. The emperor’s disdain and scorn are such that he could not believe reports that you intended to free yourselves from your servitude. He bids and commands you by the twelve of us to send him the same tribute that your ancestors paid to Julius Caesar. If you do not, the emperor will march against you. I advise you to pay the tribute, for such is the Romans’ anger that even the lowest in the land are saying to the emperor: ‘In God’s name, sire, let us go and deal with those British curs who have destroyed France!’ I tell you, if the emperor let them have their way they’d be upon you now! But he can’t believe you’re so mighty as to have conquered France. Be sure of this: if he marches against you, you’ll not escape; wherever you flee he’ll turf you out. He has sworn upon his crown that he will have your skin, and all the knights of your land will be boiled in cauldrons and burned on the fire – every last one will be treated the same: they’ll be massacred.’

Arthur flushed scarlet and shook with shame that the messengers should speak so in the presence of all his barons at the tables in the hall; he rose swiftly to his feet and said: ‘My lords, I don’t know where you were born, but you speak good French and I understand you. Sit down and eat if you’re hungry, I pray you.’

‘We wouldn’t eat at your court,’ they replied, ‘even if you threatened to cut off our hands: it’s inconceivable!’

Arthur laughed at this and said: ‘Sirs, I shall discuss your request with my counsellors, and I’ll give you our answer shortly.’

Then he summoned his barons, the kings of Ireland and Orkney and Sir Gawain and his brother Mordred and Kay the seneschal and Bedivere and others till they numbered twelve, and they withdrew to a magnificent chamber, exquisitely painted. The painting depicted the story of the three goddesses and Paris, and how, after he had been given the apple, one promised him the most beautiful woman in the world, another the greatest riches in the world, and the third to make him the finest knight in the land. After each had made her offer – imagining that the others knew nothing of it – Paris thought to himself that he was already a fine knight and one of the most valiant in all his land, and needed no greater riches than he already enjoyed, so decided his best choice would be the pleasure of the beautiful woman! So he took the apple and gave it to the goddess who had promised him the woman: she was overjoyed to win it, for the apple gave her supremacy over the other goddesses. She duly united him with a woman more beautiful than any in the world; but her beauty was to cost Paris dear. Such was the story painted on the walls of the chamber where Arthur led the twelve to take counsel.

‘Sirs,’ he said at once, ‘you are all my men and I am your lord. You all heard the emperor’s messengers insulting and abusing me: it was an outrage, but I didn’t show it. Now I pray you, give me your advice in all honour, and I promise I’ll do exactly as you say.’

Then King Lot of Orkney, a most wise and worthy man, stood up and addressed the king, saying: ‘Sire, you’ve asked for our advice and we’ll counsel you well if you’re willing to heed us. You’ve heard how the emperor of Rome’s messengers have come to abuse you, and claim that Julius Caesar conquered Rome and France and your own kingdom of Britain. Well, that’s true – but he took it by treachery, and treachery is not right. I’ll tell you a little about how he won it. There was once a king who had a brother and two fair children, and when he died he left his land to those two, but the common people felt they were too young to safeguard the kingdom and entrusted it to their uncle, who became king and made one of his nephews a duke and the other a count. This king’s name was Casibelan.21 I don’t know what his nephews had done wrong, but he summoned them to court and meant to have them killed; and when they realised their uncle hated them and had usurped their kingdom, they sent word to Julius Caesar that he could conquer England. Caesar had been twice before but had been unable to overcome Casibelan, but when he received the children’s message he was overjoyed, and returned word that they were to supply hostages as a firm assurance, which they did, and he put to sea and sailed to this land. Meanwhile the two children had assembled great armies and now joined Julius Caesar, and they marched against Casibelan and defeated him in battle. And after the victory, Julius Caesar accepted the brothers’ homage and made the elder the king and they paid him tribute. It’s because of this that the Romans claim tribute from you. And I’ll tell you something else.

‘There were two other brothers in Britain, one named Brenes and the other Belin,22 and such was their power that they crossed the sea and conquered France and advanced as far as Rome. When the Romans saw them approaching they were terrified, and came out to meet them and vowed to submit to their command, giving them forty hostages. Once the hostages were given, Brenes and Belin said they’d return to Britain, which they did; but as soon as the Romans saw them go they said they’d been very wrong to let their hostages be led away, and decided to head the Britons off at a narrow pass in a deep defile. They assembled fifty thousand knights and positioned them in the pass. Meanwhile Brenes and Belin had divided their troops, each taking half, and each half numbered more than a hundred thousand men. Brenes came to the defile and was about to pass through, but the Romans leapt out and launched a savage attack. Brenes, in deep dismay, came to a squire and said: ‘Dear friend, go to my brother Belin and tell him we’re betrayed! And tell him to march to the pass from behind the Romans and attack them in the rear!’ The squire took the king’s message to Belin, who was horrified; following a peasant’s directions, he rode swiftly to the end of the defile to join the battle, in which Brenes had fought almost to exhaustion. Belin roared his battle cry and charged with fifty thousand men, crying: ‘Britain!’, and Brenes cried: ‘France!’ The Romans were aghast, and the Britons slew them: every last Roman was killed. Then Brenes and Belin returned to Rome and camped outside the city, set up gibbets, and hanged all the children given by the wealthy men of Rome as hostages. Then the city was surrendered, and Brenes was crowned emperor and the Romans paid him tribute. That’s why it seems to me that you should have lordship over the Romans: you should be emperor of Rome! You both claim the same! I don’t know what more to say, other than that you should meet and see who does best: whoever does will win what he claims!

‘But one thing more, sire: remember how Merlin came to your court the very day you became king. He said there’d been two kings of Britain who’d been king of France and emperor of Rome. Sire, you are king of France, and I say you’ll be king of Rome if you’ve the heart to conquer it! For Merlin has never lied but has always told the truth. So summon your knights and cross the sea and join battle with the Romans! I tell you, you’ll be victorious, for you have the finest knights in all the world!’

And all twelve of the counsellors cried: ‘Arthur, lord, ride in force and conquer Romenie and all the land of Lombardy, and we’ll help you with all our might!’

Arthur was elated by his barons’ words and said: ‘It seems to me, sirs, that King Lot has spoken splendidly! From what he’s told me, even if the Romans hadn’t come here, I ought to go there and claim what my ancestor won!’

With that, Arthur returned to the hall and said to the Roman messengers: ‘Sirs, know this: I am amazed the emperor has the nerve to demand the outrageous tribute that you claim. I assure you, I mean to free myself of servitude to him. You can tell him that before eight months are out my army will be within a javelin’s throw of Rome, unless he comes to meet me. And I’m willing to fight him man to man or army to army.’

‘We assure you,’ the messengers replied, ‘that the emperor will meet you with two hundred thousand men or more.’

And with that they haughtily strode from the hall without asking leave. They made their way to the sea and sailed across and rode day after day until they reached Rome and found the emperor. They told him how they had fared, and how the Britons were a proud and strong people and had gathered the finest knights in the world at a Round Table they had established.

‘We gave Arthur your message and he said he’d take counsel. He took twelve of his barons to his chamber and they discussed it at great length. Their decision amounts to this: Arthur sends you word that within eight months his army will be within a javelin’s throw of Rome unless you go to meet him.’

The emperor was enraged. He sent out sealed letters and scrolls and assembled the greatest army ever seen, summoning soldiers and archers and great bands of knights, and squires on foot and horseback carrying lances and javelins. And know this: he appealed to the king of Spain – a Saracen – and this Saracen brought the most immense army of all time. No king ever had a mightier force, and they all placed themselves at the emperor’s command. I tell you, when the whole army was on the march it was reckoned to number three hundred thousand, all armed and equipped for war. When his forces were all assembled the emperor appealed to them, explaining how Arthur had risen against him and in single combat had killed King Floire who held his land as a vassal of Rome. ‘And now he’s claiming tribute from us! I pray you, give me your advice in these matters.’

Hearing this, the barons were filled with contempt and all cried as one: ‘Rightful emperor, ride in force and cross the mountains and the sea and conquer Britain and avenge King Floire whom Arthur, king of Britain, has slain! We’ll aid you with all our might!’

While the emperor was engaged in this debate, three messengers arrived and greeted him most nobly in their own tongue on behalf of the Sultan, and said: ‘Lord emperor, the Sultan sends you word that he is coming to join you to destroy the Britons, because his brother the king of Spain is with you already. I promise you, his army numbers fifty thousand Saracens, and in three days they will be camped in the fields outside Rome.’

The emperor was elated; and when the third day came he mounted with all the senators of Rome and joyfully rode to meet the Sultan half a league outside the city. When the emperor saw him he spurred towards him and flung his arms around his neck. Neither his Christian faith nor his baptism stopped him kissing him full on the lips, and all the Roman senators bowed deeply to him: they knew well enough how he defied God, but their fear of the Britons was great! They camped outside Rome for fifteen days to rest their men, and during those fifteen days the emperor transgressed mightily against God and Holy Church, for he took the Sultan’s daughter as his wife – a beautiful woman indeed, but an infidel. The common people of Rome were most distressed, and kept saying the emperor had lost much of his faith.

Then, when the fifteen days had passed, the army set out and marched across the lands; but Blaise says nothing about their daily marches and what befell them, for Merlin did not care to mention it. But I can tell you this much: they came to the land of Provence where they heard that Arthur’s seneschal Kay was on the frontier of Brittany, guarding that land, and when the emperor heard this he rode that way. But Arthur’s spies informed him of this and he was already at the port of Dover, preparing the fleet for his immense army. When the fleet was ready Arthur came to his nephew Mordred, Sir Gawain’s brother, and entrusted his land and his castles and his wife to his keeping. But he would have done better to have boiled them both in cauldrons, for his nephew Mordred committed the greatest treason ever known; for he loved Arthur’s wife, and persuaded the knights and stewards and keepers of the castles to receive him as their lord, and then married the queen, garrisoned every castle in the land and had himself crowned king. But Arthur, suspecting nothing of this, had his knights embark with all their arms and harness, and the mariners steered them to a port named Calais. Word of their landing was sent to the barons of France, who were overjoyed at the news; and the king, by the common consent of his army, sent two messengers to Paris, where the people joyously declared they would receive him as their lord. Hearing this, Arthur rode to Paris and assembled all his forces there.

The Romans and Saracens heard that Arthur was at Paris, and advanced to within three leagues of the city. Then Arthur sent Gawain and Bedivere to the enemy camp to find out if the emperor wished to do battle. Gawain and Bedivere, mounted on two splendid horses and magnificently armed, came to the emperor’s tent. Gawain proudly delivered his message, insulting and slighting the emperor as he did so, until one of the legates had had enough and said: ‘Britons are always boastful, foul-tongued braggarts! You wretched knight! If you say any more I’ll drag you from your horse!’

At that Bedivere thrust a lance clean through him, and Gawain skewered one of the emperor’s nephews before drawing his sword and dealing a knight such a blow on the head that he split him from his scalp to his waist. Then he spurred forward, beheading six as he went; he and Bedivere meant to ride off, but it was impossible: more than twenty thousand came galloping after them. Some overtook them by a bowshot’s length,23 and Bedivere and Gawain found themselves confronted by more than two thousand; they gathered around Gawain and Bedivere with drawn swords, lances, javelins, darts and sticks and stones, and dealt so many blows that death was inevitable. They killed both their horses. Then fury surged within Sir Gawain, and he drew his sword and clutched his shield and struck a Roman – the governor of a great estate – such a blow that he split him down to his chest; and he seized his horse and mounted and rode to the aid of Bedivere who was defending himself ferociously. But before he could reach him he was unhorsed again and his mount killed beneath him; and when he realised he had lost the horse he had won, Gawain leapt up and stoutly defended himself on foot, hopeless though it was. Then suddenly a force of twenty thousand Britons who had been stationed in the wood came charging out to attack the Romans; they cut through them in a fury and killed them all – hardly a single man escaped. Messengers rode back to report to Arthur; as soon as he heard the news, he commanded his men to arm, and gave orders for two hundred horns and two hundred trumpets to be sounded, which was done – in a blast so mighty that it seemed as if all the earth were quaking and crumbling: God’s thunder would have gone unheard. In perfect order they rode to battle, Saigremor entrusted with the royal banner. They met the twenty thousand who had rescued Sir Gawain and joined forces with them under Gawain’s command.

Meanwhile those who had fled returned to the emperor’s tent with the news that his brother Bretel was dead. He was filled with anguish, and swore he would make Arthur and the Britons pay dearly. He had the horn sounded at the royal pavilion to call them to arms, and when the Romans heard the horn’s ringing blast they armed, and the infidels likewise. They formed their battalions and squadrons and rode out to find Arthur – and Arthur rode to meet them; soon they were close enough to see each other plainly. When the armies came within sight of one another, even the bravest felt fear. Then the Christians made confession to each other and forgave one another their mutual wrongs, and took communion with blades of grass; then they mounted once again.

I promise you, truly, such massive armies were never seen; and when they had advanced so close that there was nothing for it but to fight, Sir Gawain, leading the first squadron, spurred forward and struck a Saracen through shield and mailcoat alike, thrusting the lance-head clean through his chest and sending him crashing dead to the ground. Then both sides charged. Gawain had twenty thousand men confronting fifty thousand Saracens: they clearly could not last long. Even so they killed eleven thousand of the infidels, while seven hundred and sixty of Gawain’s men were lost. All the same, they would not have survived had not Kay the seneschal come to Sir Gawain’s aid with twenty thousand knights. They charged into the infidels from Spain and left huge piles of dead all over the field: the infidels could not resist, and took to flight; but they met the Sultan advancing with fifty thousand Saracens, who now attacked Sir Gawain and Kay the seneschal.

They fought from the third hour24 till noon, when the field was so littered with dead knights and men-at-arms that it was impossible to ride and joust; but they killed each other with their naked swords. And I tell you, Gawain fought so mightily that day that he himself killed one thousand two hundred and thirty knights and men-at-arms. It was true that his strength grew after midday, and when noon had passed every knight he attacked he cut down, man and horse together. He had become so wild that no-one would go near him, and by his efforts the Britons put the Sultan to flight.

But now the emperor engaged Sir Gawain – who had already endured so much – and Kay the seneschal, and his forces numbered a hundred and fifty thousand. So immense was the dustcloud that Kay took to flight and the Britons with him. But Gawain defended their rear; and then Arthur arrived with sixty thousand worthy and courageous knights, all superbly armed and equipped. They joined battle with the Romans, and it was the fiercest battle that any man could endure. In the fighting that followed, more than fourteen thousand knights from both sides died. And I tell you, King Arthur proved himself to be a great warrior indeed. Then the emperor came through the ranks, magnificently armed, crying: ‘King Arthur, I’m ready to put our honour to the test – and I’ll prove that you’re my slave!’

Arthur heard this and galloped to meet him, and with sword clutched in his right hand he struck the emperor full on the head: with God’s help he dealt such a blow that he split him to the waist and sent him toppling, dead. The cry went up that the emperor was slain; and then Gawain charged forward and struck the Sultan across the waist with his sword, slicing him in half; and King Lot struck the king of Spain through the chest with a javelin, sending him crashing dead to the ground. When the Romans and Saracens saw their lords fall they were aghast. More than a hundred thousand gathered around their bodies, intending to carry them back to their tents; but the Britons and the Norse and the Irish and the Scots descended with lances, darts and daggers and declared that they would take the bodies of the three traitors. But the Romans were determined to have them; and such blows rained down on them then that you could have filled two hundred waggons with the dead. I tell you truly, there had never been such a massacre since the days of Hercules who set up his pillars in Ethiopia.25 Then Gawain returned, and he could not restrain himself, but continued to kill like a raging wolf devouring a lamb. Bedivere, too, wielded his sword until the fields were awash with blood. The Romans fled and abandoned the field.

But twenty thousand men-at-arms had reformed, with knights amongst them too, and the Romans joined them and returned to the field, where the bodies of so many knights lay colourless and pale. Then the Britons summoned all their strength and charged to meet them, and Guillac the king of Denmark clutched his sword in his right hand and struck the foremost Roman such a blow that he cut him right down to the saddle of his horse. Seeing their leader killed filled the Romans with alarm, and Arthur came storming at them with thirty thousand Britons who struck them down and slew them. The Romans and Saracens took to flight, and the Britons pursued them for a long while, killing and capturing them at will. The chase lasted a day and a night, and among the captives were fifteen Roman senators.

When the victory was complete, Arthur took counsel with his barons and said he wished to be crowned in Rome, and his men all agreed he should advance in force and be crowned there indeed. He sent for the captured senators, and when they came before him they fell at his feet and begged for mercy, that he might spare their lives, promising to surrender Rome to him and serve him forever. Arthur granted this, and accepted them as liegemen and declared them free from captivity. Then the king commanded his men to be ready to go to Rome in three days.

But the day before Arthur was due to march he was in the palace at Paris, with his nephew Gawain and Kay the seneschal and Guillac the king of Denmark and King Lot of Orkney, when four messengers dismounted at the mounting-block and climbed up to the hall and greeted him in the name of God; he recognised them instantly and asked them: ‘Why have you come here, sirs? In God’s name, tell me how my wife is, and my nephew Mordred. There’s nothing wrong?’

And the messengers replied: ‘Lord king, it’s about them that we’ve brought you news. We have to tell you that your nephew Mordred has acted treacherously towards you: he’s married your wife, and within a month of your leaving the country he’d taken the crown. He’s won over the people, and every one of your castles is filled with crossbowmen and knights and men-at-arms, for every knight in the land who opposed his will he’s had put to death! And know this: he’s called upon the Saxons of Hengist’s line – Hengist, who fought so long against your father! – and throughout the land of Britain he’s banned the singing of mass or matins. Truly, if you don’t come to the country’s aid you’ll lose it – you’d do better to conquer your own land than someone else’s!’

When Arthur heard this his heart was filled with shame and rage. He debated with his barons what he should do, and their advice was to return and seek to recover his land – and if he could capture Mordred, to have him burnt. Even Mordred’s brother Gawain and his father King Lot of Orkney said so – King Lot felt the deepest shame. Arthur thought this good advice, and the next day he set out with all his knights and rode to Normandy and put to sea.

But Mordred knew of this from spies he had in the king’s camp, and assembled Saxons and knights and men-at-arms and advanced to the shore to confront Arthur. As Arthur prepared to land, Mordred was there to oppose him. It was going to be a perilous landing. Sir Gawain sailed in with twenty thousand men – and I tell you, he was burning with shame at Mordred’s treachery – but his brother confronted him with fifty thousand Saxons hurling spears and stones and darts and javelins; the Britons rained missiles in return. And I tell you now, ill befell Gawain: his helmet was not laced on, and a Saxon wielding an oar dealt him a blow to the head that struck him dead.

The anguish at Gawain’s death! Ah God, what grief to lose the great righter of wrongs! He was a good knight, handsome and loyal and wise, elegant in speech and fair in judgement. God, what sorrow that he should die! There was such grieving on the ship that it could be heard two leagues away. And Saigremor was killed there, and Bedivere, and Kay the seneschal. The lives of so many worthy men ended there. I tell you, not one of the twenty thousand knights escaped: every last man was killed or drowned. Even their ship was lost, broken into four quarters and sinking into the sea.

When Arthur heard the twenty thousand had perished he was filled with grief. And when he knew the truth, that Gawain was dead, his rage and anguish were such that his heart failed him, and he collapsed on the deck and fainted more than fifteen times. The Britons revived him; but I tell you, no man ever heard such lamentation as that of King Lot for Gawain, his son.

King Arthur gave orders for the fleet to land, and they took the port by force and disembarked; but many were killed before they did so. It was then that another great misfortune befell Arthur, for as King Lot was leaving the ship a man-at-arms loosed a crossbow bolt at him and hit him in the chest. Once more there was bitter grieving over his body. Then the Saxons reformed and launched another attack upon Arthur; but as soon as the Britons were mounted they charged at the Saxons and slaughtered many, so mighty was their rage. Like the ravening wolf devouring the lamb, so the Britons devoured the Saxons; they slew so many that mounds of dead lay all over the fields. God granted victory to the Britons: they routed the Saxons, and Mordred took to flight. He fled to the castles he had garrisoned, thinking to take refuge; but when the knights and townsmen heard that Arthur was returning and had defeated him, they would not let him into their fortresses; and Mordred, in distress and fear that the castles were barred to him, fled to Winchester and summoned the Saxons from all over the land, saying he would wait to meet Arthur in battle.

Arthur was distraught at what had happened. First he went down to the shore and sent for the bodies of Gawain and Kay the seneschal and Bedivere and Saigremor and King Lot of Orkney, and had them buried; then he set out with the remainder of his men and tracked Mordred from castle to castle, until word came that he was at Winchester with a great army. So Arthur rode that way, summoning the barons and townsmen and citizens from all over his land; and they all came with their grievances, telling him how Mordred had ruined and abused them. Arthur was so distressed by what they said that he could not reply. Instead he ordered his knights to mount at once, and rode to Winchester.

When Mordred heard he had come he rode out to meet him, saying he would never go hiding away in castles for he had a mightier army than the king. Both sides were ready for combat, and came charging at each other in a fury. There you would have seen the fiercest battle in the world, with knights and men-at-arms strewn dead on the ground, enough to fill thirty waggons. So many Saxons were killed that very few remained, and Mordred fled away at speed with the remnants of his men. To Ireland he fled, and crossed the country until he came to an island ruled by a heathen Saxon king – a descendant of Hengist – who made him most welcome and valued him highly as a fine knight.

Hearing that Mordred had gone to Ireland, Arthur set off in swift pursuit, and rode on until he reached the land where he had taken refuge. When the Saxon king heard of his coming he summoned his army and marched against him. Battle was joined. I tell you, the Britons hated the Saxons deeply, as the Saxons did the Britons, and all the more died because of it.

The battle raged for a long while, and many fine knights were killed. The book does not tell of all who died, but I can tell you this much: Mordred was killed there, and so was the Saxon king who had harboured him. And King Arthur was mortally wounded, struck through the chest with a lance. They gathered about Arthur, grieving bitterly, but he said to them: ‘Stop this grieving, for I shall not die. I shall be carried to Avalon, where my wounds will be tended by my sister Morgan.’

And so Arthur was borne to Avalon, telling his people to wait for him, for he would return.

The Britons made their way back to Carduel, and waited more than forty years before they named a new king, for they were daily expecting Arthur to reappear. And I tell you, some people have seen him since out hunting in the forests, and have heard his hounds with him; so that others have long lived in the hope that he would return.

When all this business was complete, Merlin came to Blaise and told him everything that had happened; and when Blaise had set it all down in writing he took him to the house of Perceval who had the Grail in his keeping, and who lived such a saintly life that he was often visited by the Holy Spirit. And he told him all that had befallen Arthur: how he had been carried off to Avalon, and how Gawain had been killed, and how the knights of the Round Table had ended their days. When Perceval heard this he wept with sorrow, and prayed to Our Lord to have pity on their souls, for he had loved them dearly.

Then Merlin came to Perceval and to his master Blaise and took his leave of them. He said that Our Lord did not want him to appear to people again, but he would not die until the end of the world.

‘But then I shall live in eternal joy. Meanwhile I shall make my dwelling-place outside your house, where I shall live and prophesy as Our Lord shall instruct me. And all who see my dwelling-place will call it Merlin’s esplumoir.’26

With that Merlin departed; and he made his esplumoir and entered in, and was never seen again in this world.

Neither of Merlin nor of the Grail does the story say more, except that Merlin prayed to Our Lord to grant mercy to all who would willingly hear his book and have it copied for the remembrance of his deeds. To which you will all say: Amen.

Here ends the romance of Merlin and the Grail.

Notes

 1   The manuscript simply reads quant il se leva.

 2   Literally ‘gladioli’.

 3   i. e. the water for washing hands before eating.

 4   The ninth canonical hour: three o’clock in the afternoon.

 5   The first canonical hour: six o’clock in the morning. This must be a scribal error for ‘vespers’: it does not tally with the damsel’s story that follows.

 6   The third canonical hour: nine o’clock in the morning.

 7   Enamel and other decorations, usually on a knight’s helmet.

 8   i. e. his vestments.

 9   The reference to a bowshot is not strictly accurate, but is an attempt to translate arpens, a vague medieval term of measurement implying a distance of a couple of hundred yards. An arpent later came to be a measurement of area approximating to an acre.

10  See previous note.

11  See note 4 above.

12  The first canonical hour: six o’clock in the morning.

13  See note 4 above.

14  See note 4 above.

15  See note 12 above.

16  Preliminary engagements, effectively a practice session, usually held the day before a tournament proper.

17  In the early thirteenth century a tournament was a mass combat of knights divided into two or more teams. Here it is being fought between a company from the castle and ‘those outside’.

18  The play on words that appears in Joseph of Arimathea (above, here) is made again here, juxtaposing graal and the verb agreer (‘to delight’).

19  The manuscript accidentally reads ‘you’.

20  See note 9 above.

21  Cassivellaunus, who led British resistance to Julius Caesar’s invasions. His story appears in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s History of the Kings of Britain.

22  Brennius and Belinus, also in Geoffrey of Monmouth.

23  See note 9 above.

24  See note 6 above.

25  A strange reference to the Greek hero. Ethyope is perhaps a half-memory of Erythia, where Hercules has a bloody encounter with the triple-bodied ogre Geryon shortly after setting up his mighty Pillars.

26  This untranslatable – and probably invented – word has wonderful resonances. Its root is ‘the shedding of feathers’, implying moulting, transformation, renewal.