The king and all his knights then left the jousting field, and rode to Camelot Church to evensong; and after that they went home to supper. At supper, as each knight sat in his own place at the Round Table, there arose a great storm, and the cracking and crying of the thunder was so terrible that they thought the roof and walls of the castle were breaking apart.
In the midst of the blast a sunbeam entered the great window, seven times whiter than the light of day. Then every knight seemed fairer than his comrades had ever seen him, and no one dared speak for a long while, but all looked at each other as if they had been dumb.
Then there entered on the sunbeam the Holy Grail, but it was covered with a white silken cloth, so that no one could see it, or who bore it. Then the hall was filled with sweet odors, and every knight had such meat and drink as he liked best; and when the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, it departed as suddenly as it came and the marvelous light with it, but no one knew where. When they had breath to speak, the king gave thanks.
“Certainly,” said he, “we ought greatly to thank our Lord for what he has shown us to-day at this high feast of Pentecost.”
“Now,” said Sir Gawain, “we have been served to-day with the food we liked best, but are sorry that we did not see the Holy Grail uncovered. Therefore, I will here make a vow to set forth on its quest to-morrow to be gone a year and a day, or longer if need be, and I shall not return till I have seen it more openly than to-day. If I do not find it, I shall return again, if it be not contrary to the will of our Lord.”
When the knights of the Round Table heard this, the most part of them arose and made the same vow. But King Arthur was greatly displeased, for he well knew that they might not break their vows.
“Alas,” said he, “your vows will nearly slay me; they will rob me of the bravest comrades and the truest knights ever seen together in any realm; and I foresee that we shall never meet in fellowship again, for many of you that I have loved as well as my life will die in this quest.”
With that the tears came into his eyes, and he said, “Sir Gawain, Sir Gawain, you have given me great sorrow, for I much doubt that my true fellowship shall ever meet here again.”
“Ah,” said Sir Launcelot, “comfort yourself; it will bring us greater honor than if we had died in any other quest, for of death we are sure.”
“Ah, Sir Launcelot,” said the king, “the great love I have had for you all the days of my life makes me say such sorrowful words; for Christian king never had so many worthy men at his table as I have had at the Round Table to-day.”