The High History of the Holy Graal Part 26

And the story is here silent of Perceval, and saith that Lancelot goeth his way and rideth by a forest until he findeth a castle amidst his way at the head of a launde, and seeth at the gateway of the castle an old knight and two damsels sitting on a bridge. Thitherward goeth he, and the knight and damsels rise up to meet him, and Lancelot alighteth.

"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "Welcome may you be."

The damsels make great joy of him and lead him into the castle. "Sir,"

saith the Vavasour, "Sore need had we of your coming."

He maketh him go up into the hall above and be disarmed of his arms.

"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "Now may you see great pity of these two damsels that are my daughters. A certain man would reave them of this castle for that no aid nor succour have they save of me alone. And little enough can I do, for I am old and feeble, and my kin also are of no avail, insomuch that hitherto have I been able to find no knight that durst defend me from the knight that is fain to reave this castle from me. And you seem to be of so great valiance that you will defend me well herein to-morrow, for the truce cometh to an end to-night."

"How?" saith Lancelot, "I have but scarce come in hither to lodge, and you desire me so soon already to engage myself in battle?"

"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "Herein may it well be proven whether there be within you as much valour as there seemeth from without to be. For, and you make good the claim of these two damsels that are my daughters to the fiefs that are of right their own, you will win thereby the love of G.o.d as well as praise of the world."

They fall at his feet weeping, and pray him of mercy that they may not be disherited. And he raiseth them forthwith, as one that hath great pity thereof.

"Damsels," saith he, "I will aid you to my power. But I would fain that the term be not long."

"Sir," say they, "to-morrow is the day, and to-morrow, so we have no knight to meet him that challengeth this castle, we shall have lost it.

And our father is an old knight, and hath no longer l.u.s.tihood nor force whereby he might defend it for us, and all of our lineage are fallen and decayed. This hatred hath fallen on us on account of Messire Gawain, whom we harboured."

Lancelot lay there the night within the castle and was right well lodged and worshipfully entreated. And on the morrow he armed himself when he had heard ma.s.s, and leant at the windows of the hall and seeth the gate shut and barred, and heareth a horn sound without the gate three times right loud.

"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "the knight is come, and thinketh that within here is no defence."

"By my head," saith Lancelot, "but there is, please G.o.d!"

The knight bloweth another blast of his horn.

"Hearken, Sir," saith the Vavasour, "It is nigh noon, and he thinketh him that none will issue hence to meet him."

II.

Lancelot cometh down below and findeth his horse saddled and is mounted as soon. The damsels are at his stirrup, and pray him for G.o.d's sake remember to defend the honour that is theirs of the castle, for, save only he so doth, they must flee like beggars into other lands.

Thereupon the Knight soundeth his horn again. Lancelot, when he heareth the blast, hath no mind to abide longer, and forthwith issueth out of the castle all armed, lance in hand and shield at his neck. He seeth the knight at the head of the bridge, all armed under a tree.

Thitherward cometh Lancelot full speed. The knight seeth him coming, and crieth to him.

"Sir Knight," saith he, "What demand you? Come you hither to do me evil?"

"Yea," saith Lancelot, "for that evil are you fain to do to this castle; wherefore on behalf of the Vavasour and his daughters do I defy you."

He moveth against the knight and smiteth him on the shield with his spear and the knight him. But Lancelot pierceth his shield for him with his sword, and smiteth him so stiffly that he pinneth his arm to his side, and hurtleth against him so pa.s.sing stoutly that he thrusteth him to the ground, him and his horse, and runneth over him, sword drawn.

"Ha," saith the knight to Lancelot, "withdraw a little from over me, and slay me not, and tell me your name, of your mercy."

"What have you to do with my name?" saith Lancelot.

"Sir," saith he, "Gladly would I know it, for a right good knight seem you to be, and so have I well proven in the first encounter."

"Sir" saith he, "I am called Lancelot of the Lake. And what is your name?"

"Sir." saith he, "I am called Marin of the castle of Gomeret. So am I--father of Meliot of Logres. I pray you, by that you most love in the world, that you slay me not."

"So will I do," saith Lancelot, "and you renounce not your feud against this castle."

"By my faith," saith the knight, "thus do I renounce it, and I pledge myself that thenceforth for ever shall it have no disturbance of me."

"Your pledge," saith Lancelot, "will I not accept save you come in thither."

"Sir," saith the knight, "You have sore wounded me in such sort that I cannot mount but with right great pain."

Lancelot helpeth him until he was mounted again on his horse, and leadeth him into the castle with him, and maketh him present his sword to the Vavasour and his daughters, and yield up his shield and his arms, and afterward swear upon hallows that never again will he make war upon them. Lancelot thereupon receiveth his pledge to forego all claim to the castle and Marin turneth him back to Gomeret. The Vavasour and his daughters abide in great joy.

III.

The story saith that Lancelot went his way by strange lands and by forests to seek adventure, and rode until he found a plain land lying without a city that seemed to be of right great lordship. As he was riding by the plain land, he looketh toward the forest and seeth the plain fair and wide and the land right level. He rideth all the plain, and looketh toward the city and seeth great plenty of folk issuing forth thereof. And with them was there much noise of bag-pipes and flutes and viols and many instruments of music, and they came along the way wherein was Lancelot riding. When the foremost came up to him, they halted and redoubled their joy.

"Sir," say they, "Welcome may you be!"

"Lords," saith Lancelot, "Whom come ye to meet with such joy?"

"Sir," say they, "they that come behind there will tell you clearly that whereof we are in need."

IV.

Thereupon behold you the provosts and the lords of the city, and they come over against Lancelot.

"Sir," say they, "All this joy is made along of you, and all these instruments of music are moved to joy and sound of gladness for your coming."

"But wherefore for me," saith Lancelot.

"That shall you know well betimes," say they. "This city began to burn and to melt in one of the houses from the very same hour that our king was dead, nor might the fire be quenched, nor never will be quenched until such time as we have a king that shall be lord of the city and of the honour thereunto belonging, and on New Year's Day behoveth him to be crowned in the midst of the fire, and then shall the fire be quenched, for otherwise may it never be put out nor extinguished.

Wherefore have we come to meet you to give you the royalty, for we have been told that you are a good knight."

"Lords," saith Lancelot, "Of such a kingdom have I no need, and G.o.d defend me from it."

"Sir," they say, "You may not be defended thereof, for you come into this land at hazard, and great grief would it be that so good land as you see this is were burnt and melted away by the default of one single man, and the lordship is right great, and this will be right great worship to yourself, that on New Year's Day you should be crowned in the fire and thus save this city and this great people, and thereof shall you have great praise."

V.

Much marvelleth Lancelot of this that they say. They come round about him on all sides and lead him into the city. The ladies and damsels are mounted to the windows of the great houses and make great joy, and say the one to another, "Look at the new king here that they are leading in. Now will he quench the fire on New Year's Day."

"Lord!" say the most part, "What great pity is it of so comely a knight that he shall end on such-wise!"

"Be still!" say the others. "Rather should there be great joy that so fair city as is this should be saved by his death, for prayer will be made throughout all the kingdom for his soul for ever!"