The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions

by Howard Pyle

Then he shut his lips tight as though to say no more, and thereupon turned and went away from that place.

Sir Launcelot departeth.

And he turned neither to this side nor to that, but went straight to the castle of the King, and there ordered that his horse should be brought forth to him upon the instant. So when his horse was brought he mounted it and rode away; and he bade farewell to no one, and no one was there when he thus departed.

So for a long while Sir Launcelot rode he knew not whither, but after a while he found himself in the forest not far away from the cell of the hermit of the forest. And he beheld the hermit of the forest, that he stood in an open plat of grass in front of his cell and that he was feeding the wild birds of the woodland; for the little feathered creatures were gathered in great multitudes about him, some resting upon his head and some upon his shoulders and some upon his hands. And a wild doe and a fawn of the forest browsed near by and all was full of peace and good content.

But at the coming of Sir Launcelot, all those wild creatures took alarm; the birds they flew chirping away, and the doe and the fawn they fled away into the thickets of the forest. For they wist, by some instinct, that a man of sin and sorrow was coming thitherward; wherefore they were afeared and fled away in that wise.

But Sir Launcelot thought nothing of this, but leaped from his horse, and ran to the hermit and flung himself down upon the ground before him and embraced him about the feet. And the hermit was greatly astonished and said, "What ails thee, Sir Launcelot?" Whereunto Sir Launcelot cried out: "Woe is me! Woe is me! I have sinned very grievously and have been grievously punished and now my heart is broken!"

Then the hermit perceived that some great misfortune had befallen Sir Launcelot, wherefore he lifted Sir Launcelot to his feet and after that he brought him into his cell. And after they were in the cell together, he said: "Now tell me what ails thee, Sir Launcelot. For I believe that in telling me thou shalt find a great deal of ease."

So Sir Launcelot confessed everything to the hermit—yea, everything to the very bottom of his soul, and the good, holy man hearkened to him.

Then after Sir Launcelot had said all that lay upon his heart, the hermit sat for a while in silence, communing with his spirit. And after a while he said: "Messire, God telleth me that if thy sin hath been grievous, so also hath thy punishment been full sore. Wherefore meseemeth I speak what God would have me say when I tell thee that though neither thou nor any man may undo that which is done, nor recommit that which is committed, yet there is this which thou or any man mayest do. Thou mayst bathe thy soul in repentance as in a bath of clear water (for repentance is not remorse but something very different from remorse), and that having so bathed thyself thou mayst clothe thyself as in a fresh raiment of new resolve. So bathed and so clad, thou mayst stand once more upon thy feet and mayst look up to God and say: 'Lo, God! I am Thy handiwork. I have sinned and have done great evil, yet I am still Thy handiwork, who hath made me what I am. So, though I may not undo that which I have done, yet I may, with Thy aid, do better hereafter than I have done heretofore.'

"For every man may sin, and yet again may sin; yet still is he God's handiwork, and still God is near by His handiwork to aid him ever to a fresh endeavor to righteousness.