The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur

by Howard Pyle

Sir Launcelot rode for the rest of that day without meeting further adventure, until about evening time, when he came to a bare and naked knoll covered with furze bushes. Here, in the midst of that wild, he beheld an ancient ruined chapel, and he said to himself, “Here will I rest me for the night.” So he rode around that chapel, seeking for the door thereof, but he could find no door upon any side of the chapel, but only windows, very high raised from the ground. And he could not enter that chapel by any of its windows, because they were built in the wall so far beyond his reach that he could not attain to them. Then Sir Launcelot said, “This is a very strange chapel that it should have no doors, but only windows so high that I cannot enter by them. Now I will rest here and see what is the meaning of this place.”

So saying, he dismounted from his horse, and lay down beneath a thornbush that was not far distant from the chapel.

Now, as Sir Launcelot lay there, a drowsiness began to descend upon him, and though he could not sleep yet it was as though he did sleep, for he could move nor hand nor foot. Yet was he conscious of all that passed about him as though he had been wide awake. For he was conscious of the dark and silent vaults of sky, sprinkled all over with an incredible number of stars, and he was conscious of his horse cropping the herbage beside him in the darkness, and he was conscious of the wind that blew across his face, and that moved the corner of his cloak in the silence of the night time. Of all these things was he conscious, and yet he could not move of his own will so much as a single hair.

There cometh a wounded knight.

Anon, whilst he lay in that wise he was presently aware that some people were approaching the chapel in the darkness, for he heard the sound of voices and of the feet of horses moving upon the road. So, in a little while, there came to that place a knight and an esquire. And the knight was very sorely wounded, for his armor was broken and shattered by battle, and the esquire sustained him in the saddle so that, except for the upholding of the esquire’s arm and hand, he would have fallen prostrate down upon the ground.

Then Sir Launcelot, as he lay in that waking sleep, heard the knight say to the esquire, “Floradaine, is the chapel near at hand, for mine eyes are failing and I cannot see.” And the esquire wept and he said, “Yea, Lord, it is here. Sustain yourself but for a little and you will be there.”

To this the knight made answer, “Floradaine, I cannot sustain myself for long.” And the esquire said, “It is here.” The knight said, “Give thanks to God for that, for had it been a little farther I would have fallen from my horse. Now, Floradaine, lift me to earth.”

Therewith the esquire drew rein and he dismounted from his horse and he lifted the knight down from his charger, and the knight groaned very dolorously as the esquire lifted him down. Then, breathing very heavily and with great labor, the knight said, “Floradaine, is there a light?” And the esquire said, “Not yet, Messire.” Again, after a little, the knight said, “Is there yet a light?” And again the esquire answered, “Not yet, Messire.” And again, after awhile, the knight said for the third time, “Floradaine, is there yet a light?” And this time the knight breathed the words as in a whisper of death. Then of a sudden the esquire called out in a loud and joyful voice, “Yea, Lord, now I behold a light!”

There cometh a light.

All this Sir Launcelot beheld in that waking dream, and though it was in the darkness of night, yet he beheld it very clearly, as though it were by the sun of noonday. For he beheld the face of the knight that it was white as of pure wax, and that the sweat of death stood in beads upon his forehead. And he beheld that the esquire was young and fair, and that he had long ringlets of yellow hair that curled down upon his shoulder. Then when the esquire said that he beheld a light, Sir Launcelot beheld the windows of the chapel that they were illuminated from within with a pale blue lustre, as though the dawn were shining in that chapel. And he heard the sound of chaunting voices, at first very faint and far away, but anon ever growing stronger and stronger as the light from the chapel grew stronger. And those voices chaunted a melody that was so sweet and ravishing that it caused the heart to melt as with an agony.