“Know well,” said she, “I am your sister, the daughter of King Pellinore; therefore you are the man in the world I most like. If you are not in perfect belief and enter the ship, you will perish, for it will suffer no sin in it.”
Now, when Sir Percival knew she was his sister, he was very glad and said, “Fair sister, I shall enter therein, for if I be worthless, or an untrue knight, there shall I perish.”
Without further parley Sir Galahad stepped on board the strange ship, followed by the gentlewoman, Sir Bors, and Sir Percival.
The fittings were so rich and perfect that they wondered, for they had never seen the like. In the cabin in the midst of the ship there stood a beautiful bed with a coverlet of fine silk, and on it at the foot lay a great sword of marvelous beauty, which was drawn out of its scabbard half a foot and more, as if one had tried to draw it and could not.
“Here is a mystery,” cried Sir Percival, “I shall attempt to handle the sword.” So he tried to grasp it; but, try as he might, he could not.
“Now, by my faith,” said he, “I have failed.”
Sir Bors also set his hand to the sword and failed. Sir Galahad looked at it more closely, and saw on it letters as red as blood which said:
“Let him who would draw me from my scabbard see that he be bolder than other men, for whoso draweth me shall not escape injury to his body, or wounding unto death.”
“By my faith,” said Sir Galahad, “I would like to draw this sword out of its scabbard, but the penalty is so great that I shall not try it.”
“Sir,” said the gentlewoman, “know that all men are warned against drawing this sword, save you.”