As they spoke, Galahad blessed himself and entered the ship, and after him came the lady, and then Bors and Percivale. On reaching the deck they found it so marvellously fair and rich that they stood in wonder. In the midst of the ship was a noble bed; and when Galahad went thither he found on it a crown of silk. Below this lay a sword, half drawn from its scabbard, the pommel being of stone of many colors. The scales of the haft were of the ribs of two beasts. One beast was a serpent, known in Calidone as the serpent of the fiend; and its bone had the magic virtue that the hand which touched it should never be weary or hurt. The other beast was a fish, that haunted the flood of Euphrates, its name Ertanax; its bone had the virtue that he who handled it should not think on the joys and sorrows of his past life, but only of that which he then beheld. And no man could grasp this sword but the one who passed all others in might and virtue.
"In the name of God," said Percivale, "I shall seek to handle it."
But in vain he tried, he could not grasp the magic hilt. No more could Bors, who attempted it in his turn. Then Galahad approached, and as he did so saw written on the sword in letters like blood, "He who draweth me has peril to endure. His body shall meet with shame, for he shall be wounded to the death."
"By my faith, the risk is too great," said Galahad. "I shall not set my hand to so fatal a blade."
"That you must," said the lady. "The drawing of this sword is forbidden to all men, save you. No one can draw back from that which destiny commands."
Then she told a marvellous story of that strange blade.
"When this ship arrived in the realm of England," she said, "there was deadly war between King Labor and King Hurlame, who was a christened Saracen. Here they fought one day by the sea-side, and Hurlame was defeated and his men slain. Then he fled into this ship, drew the sword which he saw here, and with one stroke smote King Labor and his horse in twain. But a fatal stroke it proved, for with it there came harm and pestilence to all this realm. Neither corn nor grass would grow, fruit failed to ripen, the waters held no fish, and men named this the waste land of the two marches. Nor did King Hurlame escape. When he saw the strange carving of the sword, a craving came into his mind to possess the scabbard. Entering the ship for that purpose, he thrust the sword into the sheath; but no sooner had he done so than he fell dead beside the bed. And there his body lay till a maiden entered the ship and cast it out, for no man could be found hardy enough to set foot on that fatal deck."
The three knights on hearing this looked earnestly at the scabbard, which seemed to them made of serpent's skin, while on it was writing in letters of gold and silver. But the girdle was poor and mean, and ill suited to so rich a sword. The writing was to this effect: "He who shall wield me must be hardy of nature. Nor shall he ever be shamed while he is girt with this girdle; which must never be put away except by the hands of a maiden and a king's daughter. And she, if she shall ever cease to be a maid, shall die the most villanous death that woman ever endured."
"Turn the sword," said Percivale, "that we may see what is on the other side."
On doing so they found it red as blood, with coal-black letters, which said: "He that shall praise me most shall find me most to fail him in time of great need; and to whom I should be most fair shall I prove most foul. Thus is it ordained."