After this Sir Bors rode through many lands, and had many adventures, and was often sore tempted, but remembered the words of the holy man and kept his life clean of wrong. And once he had by mischance almost slain his own brother, but a voice cried, “Flee, Bors, and touch him not,” and he hearkened and stayed his hand. And there fell between them a fiery cloud, which burned up both their shields, and they two fell to the earth in a great swoon; but when they awakened out of it Bors saw that his brother had no harm. With that the voice spoke to him saying, “Bors, go hence and bear your brother fellowship no longer; but take your way to the sea, where Sir Percivale abides till you come.” Then Sir Bors prayed his brother to forgive him all he had unknowingly done, and rode straight to the sea. On the shore he found a vessel covered with white samite, and as soon as he stepped in the vessel it set sail so fast it might have been flying, and Sir Bors lay down and slept till it was day. When he waked he saw a Knight lying in the midst of the ship, all armed save for his helm, and he knew him for Sir Percivale, and welcomed him with great joy; and they told each other of their adventures and of their temptations, and had great happiness in each other’s company. “We lack nothing but Galahad, the good Knight,” Sir Percivale said.
IX.
Adventure of Sir Galahad.
Sir Galahad rested one evening at a hermitage. And while he was resting, there came a gentlewoman and asked leave of the hermit to speak with Sir Galahad, and would not be denied, though she was told he was weary and asleep. Then the hermit waked Sir Galahad and bade him rise, as a gentlewoman had great need of him, so Sir Galahad rose and asked her what she wished. “Galahad,” said she, “I will that you arm yourself, and mount your horse and follow me, and I will show you the highest adventure that ever any Knight saw.” And Sir Galahad bade her go, and he would follow wherever she led. In three days they reached the sea, where they found the ship where Sir Bors and Sir Percivale were lying. And the lady bade him leave his horse behind and said she would leave hers also, but their saddles and bridles they would take on board the ship. This they did, and were received with great joy by the two Knights; then the sails were spread, and the ship was driven before the wind at a marvellous pace till they reached the land of Logris, the entrance to which lies between two great rocks with a whirlpool in the middle.
Their own ship might not get safely through; but they left it and went into another ship that lay there, which had neither man nor woman in it. At the end of the ship was written these words: “Thou man which shalt enter this ship beware thou be in steadfast belief; if thou fail, I shall not help thee.” Then the gentlewoman turned and said, “Percivale, do you know who I am?” “No, truly,” answered he. “I am your sister, and therefore you are the man in the world that I most love. If you are without faith, or have any hidden sin, beware how you enter, else you will perish.” “Fair sister,” answered he, “I shall enter therein, for if I am an untrue Knight then shall I perish.” So they entered the ship, and it was so rich and well adorned, that they all marvelled.
In the midst of it was a fair bed, and Sir Galahad went thereto and found on it a crown of silk, and a sword drawn out of its sheath half a foot and more. The sword was of divers fashions, and the pommel was of stone, wrought about with colours, and every colour with its own virtue, and the handle was of the ribs of two beasts. The one was the bone of a serpent, and no hand that handles it shall ever become weary or hurt; and the other was a bone of a fish that swims in Euphrates, and whoso handles it shall not think on joy or sorrow that he has had, but only on that which he beholds before him. And no man shall grip this sword but one that is better than other men. So first Sir Percivale stepped forward and set his hand to the sword, but he might not grasp it. Next Sir Bors tried to seize it, but he also failed. When Sir Galahad beheld the sword, he saw that there was written on it, in letters of blood, that he who tried to draw it should never fail of shame in his body or be wounded to the death. “By my faith,” said Galahad, “I would draw this sword out of its sheath, but the offending is so great I shall not lay my hand thereto.” “Sir,” answered the gentlewoman, “know that no man can draw this sword save you alone;” and she told him many tales of the Knights who had set their hands to it, and of the evil things that had befallen them. And they all begged Sir Galahad to grip the sword, as it was ordained that he should. “I will grip it,” said Galahad, “to give you courage, but it belongs no more to me than it does to you.” Then he gripped it tight with his fingers, and the gentlewoman girt him about the middle with the sword, and after that they left that ship and went into another, which brought them to land, where they fell upon many strange adventures. On the shore they saw three score Knights by a castle to which they repaired. And the owner of this castle was a gentlewoman on whom years ago had befallen a great malady of which there was but one remedy. It was that she must be anointed with a dish of the blood of a maid pure and fair, and a King’s daughter withal.
And the Knights accosted them, and counselled them to withdraw, saying they might go without harm, only they must needs have their custom. And this custom was the blood of Sir Percivale’s sister.
And Sir Galahad drew his sword with the two handles, and slew whatever withstood him. But night fell, and a good Knight promised to harbour them for the night safely and surely, saying, “On the morrow we dare say you will accord with the custom.”
“Then,” said Sir Percivale’s sister, “fair Knights, I fain would heal this fair lady, for thus shall I gain great worship and my lineage withal, and better is one harm than twain. And therefore there shall be no battle, but to-morrow at morn I shall yield you your custom of this castle.” And then there was great joy. It chanced that while she bled on the morrow, she lifted her hands and blessed them, and she said, “Madam, I die to make you whole, for God’s love pray for me.” With that she fell in a swoon. Then Galahad and his fellows lifted her up and stanched her, but she died, and weeping, they put her body in a barge as she had wished. In her hand Sir Percivale put a letter showing how she had helped them, and they covered her with black silk; so the wind arose and drove the barge from the land, and all Knights beheld it disappear from sight.