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  "work": {
    "slug": "high-history-of-the-holy-graal",
    "name": "High History of the Holy Graal"
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      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
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  "chapter": {
    "num": 10,
    "slug": "10-the-high-history-of-the-holy-graal-branch-ix",
    "title": "The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch IX",
    "of": 36,
    "words": 5828,
    "text": "## The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch IX\n\n\nTITLE I.\n\nNow the story is silent about the two knights for a little time,\nand speaketh of the squire that Messire Gawain meeteth in the\nmidst of the forest, that told him he went seek the son of the\nWidow Lady that had slain his father. And the squire saith that\nhe will go to avenge him, wherefore cometh he to the court of\nKing Arthur, for that he had heard tell how all good knights\nrepaired thither. And he seeth the shield hang on the column in\nthe midst of the hall that the Damsel of the Car had brought\nthither. The squire knoweth it well, and kneeleth before the\nKing and saluteth him, and the King returneth his salute and\nasketh who he is.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"I am the son of the Knight of the Red Shield of\nthe Forest of Shadows, that was slain of the Knight that ought to\nbear the shield that hangeth on this column, wherefore would I\nright gladly hear tidings of him.\"\n\n\"As gladly would I,\" saith the King, \"so that no evil came to him\nthereof, for he is the knight of the world that I most desire.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the Squire, \"Well behoveth me to hate him for that\nhe slew my father. He that ought to bear this shield was squire\nwhen he slew him, wherefore am I the more sorrowful for that I\nthought to be avenged upon him squire. But this I may not do,\nwherefore I pray you for God's sake that you will make me knight,\nfor the like favour are you accustomed to grant unto others.\"\n\n\"What is your name, fair friend?\" saith the King.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"I am called Clamados of the Shadows.\"\n\nMessire Gawain that had repaired to court, was in the hall, and\nsaid to the King: \"If this squire be enemy of the Good Knight\nthat ought to bear this shield, behoveth you not set forward his\nmortal enemy but rather set him back, for he is the Best Knight\nof the world and the most chaste that liveth in the world and of\nthe most holy lineage, and therefore have you sojourned right\nlong time in this castle to await his coming. I say not this for\nthe hindering of the squire's advancement, but that you may do\nnought whereof the Good Knight may have cause of complaint\nagainst you.\"\n\n\"Messire Gawain,\" saith Queen Guenievre, \"well know I that you\nlove my Lord's honour, but sore blame will he have if he make not\nthis one knight, for so much hath he never refused to do for any;\nnor yet will the Good Knight have any misliking thereof, for\ngreater shame should he have, and greater despite of the hatred\nof a squire than of a knight; for never yet was good knight that\nwas not prudent and well-advised and slow to take offence.\nWherefore I tell you that he will assuredly listen to reason, and\nI commend my Lord the rather that he make him knight, for much\nblame would he have of gainsaying him.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"So you are content, I am happy.\"\n\nThe King made him knight right richly, and when he was clad in\nthe robes, they of the court declare and witness that never this\nlong time past had they seen at the court knight of greater\ncomeliness. He sojourned therein long time, and , was much\nhonoured of the King and all the barons. He was every day on the\nwatch for the Good Knight that should come for the shield, but\nthe hour and the place were not as yet.\n\nII.\n\nWhen he saw that he did not come, he took leave of the King and\nthe Queen and all them of the court, and departed, thinking him\nthat he would go prove his knighthood in some place until he\nshould have heard tidings of his mortal enemy. He rideth amidst\nthe great forests bearing a red shield like as did his father,\nand he was all armed as for defending of his body. And a long\nspace of time he rideth, until one day he cometh to the head of a\nforest, and he espied his way that ran between two mountains and\nsaw that he had to pass along the midst of the valley that lay at\na great depth. He looketh before him and seeth a tree far away\nfrom him, and underneath were three damsels alighted, and one\nprayed God right heartily aloud that He would send them betimes a\nknight that durst convoy them through this strait pass.\n\nIII.\n\nClamodos heareth the damsel and cometh thitherward. When they\nespied him, great joy have they thereof and rise up to meet him.\n\"Sir, say they, \"Welcome may you be!\"\n\n\"Damsels,\" saith he, \"Good adventure may you have! And whom\nawait you here?\" saith he.\n\n\"We await,\" saith the Mistress of the damsels, \"some knight that\nshall clear this pass, for no knight durst pass hereby.\"\n\n\"What is the pass; then, damsel?\" saith he.\n\n\"It is the one of a lion, and a lion, moreover, so fell and\nhorrible that never was none seen more cruel. And there is a\nknight with the lion between the two mountains that is right good\nknight and hardy and comely. Howbeit none durst pass without\ngreat company of folk. But the knight that hath repair with the\nlion is seldom there, for so he were there we need fear no\ndanger, for much courtesy is there in him and valour.\"\n\nAnd the knight looketh and seeth in the shadow of the forest\nthree fair stags harnessed to a car.\n\n\"Ha,\" saith he, \"you are the Damsel of the Car, wherefore may you\nwell tell me tidings of the knight of whom I am in quest.\"\n\n\"Who is he?\" saith the Damsel.\n\n\"It is he that should bear a shield banded argent and azure with\na red cross.\"\n\n\"Of him am I likewise in quest,\" saith the Damsel; \"please God,\nwe shall hear tidings of him betimes.\"\n\n\"Damsel\" saith the knight, \"that would I. And for that you are\nin quest of him as am I likewise, I will convoy you beyond this\npass.\"\n\nThe Damsel maketh her Car go on before, and the damsels go before\nthe knight; and so enter they into the field of the lion, and\nright fair land found they therewithin. Clamados looketh and\nseeth the hall within an enclosure and seeth the lion that lay at\nthe entrance of the gateway. As soon as he espieth Clamados and\nthe damsels, he cometh toward them full speed, mouth open and\nears pricked up.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the Damsel, \"and you defend not your horse on foot,\nhe is dead at the first onset.\"\n\nIV.\n\nClamados is alighted to his feet, by her counsel, and holdeth his\nspear in his fist, and the lion rampeth toward him all in a fury.\nClamados receiveth him on the point of his spear, and smiteth him\ntherewith so stoutly that it passeth a fathom beyond his neck.\nHe draweth back his spear without breaking it, and thinketh to\nsmite him again. But the lion cheateth him, and arising himself\non his two hinder feet, setteth his fore feet on his shoulders,\nthen huggeth him toward him like as one man doth another. But\nthe grip was sore grievous, for he rendeth his habergeon in twain\nand so teareth away as much flesh as he can claw hold on.\n\nV.\n\nWhen Clamados felt himself wounded, he redoubled his hardihood,\nand grippeth the lion so straitly to him that he wringeth a huge\nroar out of him, and then flingeth him to the ground beneath him.\nThen he draweth his sword and thrusteth it to the heart right\nthrough the breast. The lion roareth so loud that all the\nmountains resound thereof. Clamados cutteth off his head and\ngoeth to hang it at the door of the hall. Then he cometh back to\nhis horse and mounteth the best he may. And the Damsel saith to\nhim, \"Sir, you are sore wounded.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" said he, \"please God, I shall take no hurt thereof.\"\n\nThereupon, behold you a squire that issueth forth of the hall and\ncometh after him full speed. \"Hold, Sir Knight,\" saith he; \"Foul\nwrong have you wrought, for you have slain the lion of the most\ncourteous knight that may be known, and the fairest and most\nvaliant of this kingdom, and in his despite have you hung the\nhead at his door! Right passing great outrage have you done\nhereby!\"\n\n\"Fair sweet friend,\" saith Clamados, \"it may well be that the\nlord is right courteous, but the lion was rascal and would have\nslain me and them that were passing by. And your lord loved him\nso much he should have chained him up, for better liketh me that\nI slew him than that he should slay me.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the squire, \"there is no road this way, for it is a\nforbidden land whereof certain would fain reave my lord, and it\nwas against the coming of his enemies that the lion was allowed\nforth unchained.\"\n\n\"And what name hath your lord, fair friend?\" saith Clamados.\n\n\"Sir, he is called Meliot of Logres, and he is gone in quest of\nMessire Gawain, of whom he holdeth the land, for right dear is\nhe to him.\"\n\n\"Messire Gawain,\" saith Clamados, \"left I at the court of King\nArthur, but behoveth him depart thence or ever I return thither.\"\n\n\"By my head,\" saith the squire, \"faith would I you might meet\nthem both twain, if only my lord knew that you had slain him his\nlion.\"\n\n\"Fair friend,\" saith Clamados, \"and he be as courteous as you\nsay, no misliking will he have of me thereof, for I slew him in\ndefending mine own body, and God forbid I should meet any that\nwould do me evil therefor.\"\n\nVI.\n\nThereupon the knight and the damsels depart and pass the narrow\nstrait in the lion's field, and ride on until they draw nigh a\nright rich castle seated in a meadowland surrounded of great\nwaters and high forests, and the castle was always void of folk.\nAnd they were fain to turn thitherward, but they met a squire\nthat told them that in the castle was not a soul, albeit and they\nwould ride forward they would find great plenty of folk. So far\nforward have they ridden that they are come to the head of a\nforest and see great foison of tents stretched right in the midst\nof a launde, and they were compassed round of a great white sheet\nthat seemed from afar to be a long white wall with crenels, and\nit was a good league Welsh in length. They came to the entrance\nof the tents and heard great joy within, and when they had\nentered they saw dames and damsels, whereof was great plenty, and\nof right passing great beauty were they. Clamados alighteth,\nthat was right sore wounded. The Damsel of the Car was received\nwith right great joy. Two of the damsels come to Clamados, of\nwhom make they right great joy. Afterward they lead him to a\ntent and made disarm him. Then they washed his wounds right\nsweetly and tenderly. Then they brought him a right rich robe\nand made him be apparelled therein, and led him before the ladies\nof the tents, that made right great joy of him.\n\nVII.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith the Damsel of the Car, \"This knight hath saved my\nlife, for he hath slain the lion on account of which many folk\ndurst not come to you, wherefore make great joy of him.\"\n\n\"Greater joy may I not make, than I do, nor the damsels that are\nherein, for we await the coming of the Good Knight that is\nhealed, from day to day. And now is there nought in the world I\nmore desire to see.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith Clamados, \"Who is this Good Knight?\"\n\n\"The son of the Widow Lady of the Valleys of Camelot,\" saith she.\n\n\"Tell me, Lady, do you say that he will come hither presently?\"\n\n\"So methinketh,\" saith she.\n\n\"Lady, I also shall have great joy thereof, and God grant he come\nbetimes!\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" saith she, \"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Lady\" saith he, \"I am called Clamados, and I am son of the lord\nof the Forest of Shadows.\"\n\nShe throweth her arms on his neck and kisseth and embraceth him\nright sweetly, and saith: \"Marvel not that I make you joy\nthereof, for you are the son of my sister-in-law, nor have I any\nfriend nor blood-kindred so nigh as are you, and fain would I you\nshould be lord of all my land and of me, as is right and reason.\"\n\nThe damsels of the tents make right great joy of him when they\nknow the tidings that he is so nigh of kin to the Lady of the\nTents. And he sojourned therewithin until that he was whole and\nheal, awaiting the coming of the knight of whom he had heard the\ntidings. And the damsels marvel them much that he cometh not,\nfor the damsel that had tended him was therewithin and telleth\nthem that he was healed of his arm, but that Lancelot is not yet\nwhole, wherefore he is still within the hermitage.\n\nVIII.\n\nThis high history witnesseth us and recordeth that Joseph, who\nmaketh remembrance thereof, was the first priest that sacrificed\nthe body of Our Lord, and forsomuch ought one to believe the\nwords that come of him. You have heard tell how Perceval was of\nthe lineage of Joseph of Abarimacie, whom God so greatly loved\nfor that he took down His body hanging on the cross, which he\nwould not should lie in the prison there where Pilate had set it.\nFor the highness of the lineage whereof the Good Knight was\ndescended ought one willingly to hear brought to mind and\nrecorded the words that are of him. The story telleth us that he\nwas departed of the hermitage all sound and whole, albeit he hath\nleft Lancelot, for that his wound was not yet healed, but he hath\npromised him that he will come back to him so soon as he may. He\nrideth amidst a forest, all armed, and cometh toward evensong to\nthe issue of the forest and seeth a castle before him right fair\nand well seated, and goeth thitherward for lodging, for the sun\nwas set. He entereth into the castle and alighteth. The lord\ncometh to meet him that was a tall knight and a red, and had a\nfelon look, and his face scarred in many places; and knight was\nthere none therewithin save only himself and his household.\n\nIX.\n\nWhen he seeth Perceval alighted, he runneth to bar the door, and\nPerceval cometh over against him. For all greeting, the knight\nsaluteth him thus: \"Now shall you have,\" saith he, \"such guerdon\nas you have deserved. Never again shall you depart hence, for my\nmortal enemy are you, and right hardy are you thus to throw\nyourself upon me, for you slew my brother the Lord of the\nShadows, and Chaos the Red am I that war upon your mother, and\nthis castle have I reft of her. In like manner will I wring the\nlife out of you or ever you depart hence!\"\n\n\"Already,\" saith Perceval, \"have I thrown myself on this your\nhostel to lodge with you, wherefore to blame would you be to do\nme evil. But lodge me this night as behoveth one knight do for\nanother, and on the morrow at departing let each do the best he\nmay.\"\n\n\"By my head!\" saith Chaos the Red, \"mortal enemy of mine will I\nnever harbour here save I harbour him dead.\"\n\nHe runneth to the hall above, and armeth himself as swiftly as he\nmay, and taketh his sword all naked in his hand and cometh back\nto the place where Perceval was, right full of anguish of heart\nfor this that he said, that he would war upon his mother and had\nreft her of this castle. He flung his spear to the ground, and\ngoeth toward him on foot and dealeth him a huge buffet above the\nhelmet upon the coif of his habergeon, such that he cleaveth the\nmail and cutteth off two fingers'-breadth of the flesh in such\nsort that he made him reel three times round.\n\nX.\n\nWhen Chaos the Red felt himself wounded, he was sore grieved\nthereof, and cometh toward Perceval and striketh him a great\nbuffet above in the midst of his helmet, so that he made the\nsparks fly and his neck stoop and his eyes sparkle of stars. And\nthe blow slippeth down on to the shield, so that it is cleft\nright down to the boss. Perceval felt his neck stiff and heavy,\nand feeleth that the knight is sturdy and of great might. He\ncometh back towards him, and thinketh to strike him above in the\nmidst of his head, but Chaos swerved aside from him; howbeit\nPerceval reached him and caught his right arm and cutteth it\nsheer from his side, sword and all, and sendeth it flying to the\nground, and Chaos runneth upon him, thinking to grapple him with\nhis left arm, but his force was waning; nathless right gladly\nwould he have avenged himself and he might. Howbeit, Perceval\nsetteth on him again that loved him not in his heart, and smiteth\nhim again above on the head, and dealeth him such a buffet as\nmaketh his brains be all to-scattered abroad. His household and\nservants were at the windows of the hall. When they see that\ntheir lord is nigh to the death, they cry to Perceval: \"Sir, you\nhave slain the hardiest knight in the kingdom of Logres, and him\nthat was most redoubted of his enemies; but we can do no\notherwise; we know well that this castle is your mother's and\nought to be yours. We challenge it not; wherefore may you do\nyour will of whatsoever there is in the castle; but allow us to\ngo to our lord that there lieth dead, and take away the body and\nset it in some seemly place for the sake of his good knighthood,\nand for that it behoveth us so to do.\"\n\n\"Readily do I grant it you,\" saith Perceval.\n\nThey bear the body to a chapel, then they disarm him and wind him\nin his shroud. After that they lead Perceval into the hall and\ndisarm him and say to him: \"Sir, you may be well assured that\nthere be none but us twain herewithin and two damsels, and the\ndoors are barred, and behold, here are the keys which we deliver\nup to you.\"\n\n\"And I command you,\" saith Perceval, \"that you go straightway to\nmy mother, and tell her that she shall see me betimes and I may\nget done, and so salute her and tell her I am sound and whole.\nAnd what is the name of this castle?\"\n\n\"Sir, it hath for name the Key of Wales, for it is the gateway\nof the land.\"\n\nXI.\n\nPerceval lay the night in the castle he had reconquered for his\nmother, and the morrow, when he was armed, he departed. These\npromised that they would keep the castle loyally and would\ndeliver it up to his mother at her will. He rode until he came\nto the tents where the damsels were, and drew rein and listened.\nBut there was not so great joy as when the damsel that rode like\na knight and led the Car came thither with Clamados. Great dole\nheard he that was made, and beating of palms. Wherefore he\nbethought him what folk they might be. Natheless he was not\nminded to draw back without entering. He alighted in the midst\nof the tents and set down his shield and his spear, and seeth the\ndamsels wringing their hands and tearing their hair, and much\nmarvelleth he wherefore it may be. A damsel cometh forward that\nhad set forth from the castle where he had slain the knight:\n\"Sir, to your shame and ill adventure may you have come hither!\"\n\nPerceval looketh at her and marvelleth much of that she saith,\nand she crieth out: \"Lady, behold here him that hath slain the\nbest knight of your lineage! And you, Clamados, that are within\nthere, he hath slain your father and your uncle! Now shall it be\nseen what you will do!\"\n\nThe Damsel of the Car cometh thitherward and knoweth Perceval by\nthe shield that he bare of sinople with a white hart.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she, \"welcome may you be! Let who will make dole, I\nwill make joy of your coming!\"\n\nXII.\n\nTherewith the Damsel leadeth him into a tent and maketh him sit\non a right rich couch; afterward she maketh him be disarmed of\nher two damsels and clad in a right rich robe. Then she leadeth\nhim to the Queen of the Tents that was still making great dole.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith the Damsel of the Car, \"Stint your sorrow, for\nbehold, here is the Good Knight on whose account were the tents\nhere pitched, and on whose account no less have you been making\nthis great joy right up to this very day!\"\n\n\"Ha,\" saith she, \"Is this then the son of the Widow Lady?\"\n\n\"Yea, certes,\" saith the Damsel.\n\n\"Ha,\" saith the Lady, \"He hath slain me the best knight of all my\nkin, and the one that protected me from mine enemies.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith the Damsel, \"this one will be better able to\nprotect and defend us, for the Best Knight is he of the world and\nthe comeliest.\"\n\nThe Queen taketh him by the hand and maketh him sit beside her.\n\"Sir,\" saith she, \"Howsoever the adventure may have befallen, my\nheart biddeth me make joy of your coming.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"Gramercy! Chaos would fain have slain me\nwithin his castle, and I defended myself to my power.\"\n\nThe Queen looketh at him amidst his face, and is taken with a\nlove of him so passing strong and fervent that she goeth nigh to\nfall upon him. \"Sir,\" saith she, \"and you will grant me your\nlove, I will pardon you of all the death of Chaos the Red.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"your love am I right fain to deserve, and mine\nyou have.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she, \"How may I perceive that you love me?\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"I will tell you. There is no knight in the\nworld that shall desire to do you a wrong, but I will help you\nagainst him to my power.\"\n\n\"Such love,\" saith she, \"is the common love that knight ought to\nbear to lady. Would you do as much for another?\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"It well may be, but more readily shall a man\ngive help in one place than in another.\"\n\nThe Queen would fain that Perceval should pledge himself to her\nfurther than he did, and the more she looketh at him the better\nhe pleaseth her, and the more is she taken with him and the more\ndesirous of his love. But Perceval never once thought of loving\nher or another in such wise. He was glad to look upon her, for\nthat she was of passing great beauty, but never spake he nought\nto her whereby she might perceive that he loved her of inward\nlove. But in no wise might she refrain her heart, nor withdraw\nher eyes, nor lose her desire. The damsels looked upon her with\nwonder that so soon had she forgotten her mourning.\n\nXIII.\n\nThereupon, behold you Clamados, that had been told that this was\nthe knight that, as yet only squire, had slain his father and put\nChaos his uncle to death. He cometh into the tent and seeth him\nsitting beside the Queen, that looked at him right sweetly.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"Great shame do you to yourself, in that you\nhave seated at your side your own mortal enemy and mine. Never\nagain henceforth ought any to have affiance in your love nor in\nyour help.\"\n\n\"Clamados,\" saith the Queen, \"the knight hath thrown himself upon\nme suddenly. Wherefore ought I do him no evil, rather behoveth\nme lodge him and keep his body in safety. Nought, moreover, hath\nhe done whereof he might be adjudged of murder nor of treason.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith Clamados, \"He slew my father in the Lonely Forest\nwithout defiance, and treacherously cast a javelin at him and\nsmote him through the body, wherefore shall I never be at ease\nuntil I have avenged him. Therefore do I appeal and pray you to\ndo me my right, not as being of your kindred, but as stranger.\nFor right willing am I that kinship shall avail me nought\nherein.\"\n\nPerceval looketh at the knight and seeth that he is of right\ngoodly complexion of body and right comely of face. \"Fair Sir,\"\nsaith he, \"as of treason I would that you hold me quit, for never\ntoward your father nor toward other have had I never a mind to do\ntreason, and God defend me from such shame, and grant me strength\nto clear myself of any blame thereof.\"\n\nClamados cometh forward to proffer his gage.\n\n\"By my head,\" saith the Queen, \"not this day shall gage be\nreceived herein. But to-morrow will come day, and counsel\ntherewith, and then shall fight be done to each.\"\n\nClamados is moved of right great wrath, but the Queen of the\nTents showeth Perceval the most honour she may, whereof is\nClamados right heavy, and saith that never ought any to put his\ntrust in woman. But wrongly he blameth her therein, for she did\nit of the passing great love she hath for Perceval, inasmuch as\nwell she knoweth that he is the Best Knight of the world and the\ncomeliest. But it only irketh her the more that she may not find\nin him any sign of special liking toward herself neither in deed\nnor word, whereof is she beyond measure sorrowful. The knights\nand damsels lay the night in the tents until the morrow, and went\nto hear mass in a chapel that was in the midst of the tents.\n\nXIV.\n\nWhen mass was sung, straightway behold you, a knight that cometh\nall armed, bearing a white shield at his neck. He alighteth in\nthe midst of the tents and cometh before the Queen all armed, and\nsaith: \"Lady, I plain me of a knight that is there within that\nhath slain my lion, and if you do me not right herein, I will\nharass you as much or more than I will him, and will harm you in\nevery wise I may. Wherefore I pray and require you, for the love\nof Messire Gawain, whose man I am, that you do me right herein.\"\n\n\"What is the knight's name?\" saith the Queen.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"He is called Clamados of the Shadows, and\nmethinketh I see him yonder, for I knew him when he was squire.\"\n\n\"And what is your name?\" saith the Queen.\n\n\"Lady,\" I am called Melior of Logres.\"\n\n\"Clamados,\" saith the Queen, \"Hear you what this knight saith?\"\n\n\"Yea, Lady,\" saith he; \"But again I require that you do me right\nof the knight that slew my father and my uncle.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith Melior, \"I would fain go. I know not toward whom\nthe knight proffereth his gage, but him do I appeal of felony for\nmy lion that he hath slain.\" He taketh in his hand the skirt of\nhis habergeon: \"Lady, behold here the gage I offer you.\"\n\nXV.\n\n\"Clamados,\" saith the Queen, \"Hear you then not that which this\nknight saith?\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"I hear him well. Truth it is that I slew his\nlion, but not until after he had fallen upon me, and made the\nwounds whereof I have been healed herewithin. But well you know\nthat the knight who came hither last night hath done me greater\nwrong than have I done this other. Wherefore would I pray you\nthat I may take vengeance of him first.\"\n\n\"You hear,\" saith she, \"how this knight that hath come hither all\narmed is fain to go back forthwith. Quit you, therefore, of him\nfirst, and then will we take thought of the other.\"\n\n\"Lady, gramercy!\" saith Meliot, \"and Messire Gawain will take it\nin right good part, for this knight hath slain my lion that\ndefended me from all my enemies. Nor is it true that the\nentrance to your tent was deserted on account of my lion; and in\ndespite of me hath he hung the head at my gate.\"\n\n\"As of the lion,\" saith the Queen, \"you have no quarrel against\nhim and he slew him in defending his body, but as of the despite\nhe did you as you say, when in nought had you done him any wrong,\nit shall not be that right shalt be denied you in my court, and\nif you desire to deliver battle, no blame shall you have\nthereof.\"\n\nXVI.\n\nClamados maketh arm him and mounteth on his horse, and he seemeth\nright hardy of his arms and valorous. He cometh right in the\nmidst of the tent, where the ground was fair and level, and found\nMeilot of Logres all armed upon his horse, and a right comely\nknight was he and a deliver. And the ladies and damsels were\nround about the tilting-ground.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the Queen to Perceval, \"I will that you keep the\nfield for these knights.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"At your pleasure.\"\n\nMeliot moveth toward Clamados right swiftly and Clamados toward\nhim, and they melled together on their shields in such sort that\nthey pierced them and cleft the mail of their habergeons asunder\nwith the points of their spears, and the twain are both wounded\nso that the blood rayeth forth of their bodies. The knights draw\nasunder to take their career, for their spears were broken short,\nand they come back the one toward the other with a great rush,\nand smite each other on the breast with their spears so stiffly\nthat there is none but should have been pierced within the flesh,\nfor the habergeons might protect them not. They hurtle against\neach other so strongly that knights and horses fall together to\nthe ground all in a heap. The Queen and the damsels have great\npity of the two knights, for they see that they are both so\npassing sore wounded. The two knights rise to their feet and\nhold their swords naked and run the one on the other right\nwrathfully, with such force as they had left.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the Queen to Perceval, \"Go part these two knights\nasunder that one slay not the other, for they are sore wounded.\"\n\nPerceval goeth to part them and cometh to Meliot of Logres.\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"Withdraw yourself back; you have done enough.\"\n\nClamados felt that he was sore wounded in two places, and that\nthe wound he had in his breast was right great. He draweth\nhimself back. The Queen is come thither. \"Fair nephew,\" saith\nshe, \"Are you badly wounded?\"\n\n\"Yea, Lady,\" saith Clamados.\n\n\"Certes,\" saith the Queen, \"this grieveth me, but never yet saw I\nknight and he were desirous of fighting, but came at some time by\nmischance. A man may not always stand on all his rights.\"\n\nShe made him be carried on his shield into a tent, and made\nsearch his wounds, and saw that of one had he no need to fear,\nbut that the other was right sore perilous.\n\nXVII.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith Clamados, \"Once more do I pray and require you that\nyou allow not the knight that slew my father to issue forth from\nhence, save he deliver good hostage that he will come back when I\nshall be healed.\"\n\n\"So will I do, sith that it is your pleasure.\"\n\nThe Queen cometh to the other knight that was wounded, for that\nhe declareth himself Messire Gawain's man, and maketh search his\nwounds, and they say that he hath not been hurt so sore as is\nClamados. She commandeth them to tend him and wait upon him\nright well-willingly, \"Sir,\" saith she to Perceval, \"Behoveth you\nabide here until such time as my nephew be heal, for you know\nwell that whereof he plaineth against you, nor would I that you\nshould depart hence without clearing you of the blame.\"\n\n\"Lady, no wish have I to depart without your leave, but rather\nshall I be ready to clear myself of blame whensoever and\nwheresoever time and place may be. But herewithin may I make not\nso long sojourn. Natheless to this will I pledge my word, that I\nwill return thither within a term of fifteen days from the time\nhe shall be whole.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the Damsel of the Car, \"I will remain here in\nhostage for you.\"\n\n\"But do you pray him,\" saith the Queen, \"that he remain\nherewithin with us.\"\n\nXVIII.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith Perceval, \"I may not, for I left Lancelot wounded\nright sore in my uncle's hermitage.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the Queen, \"I would fain that remaining here might\nhave pleased you as well as it would me.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"none ought it to displease to be with you, but\nevery man behoveth keep his word as well as he may, and none\nought to lie to so good a knight as he.\"\n\n\"You promise me, then,\" saith the Queen, \"that you will return\nhither the soonest you may, or at the least, within the term\nappointed after you shall have learnt that Clamados is healed, to\ndefend you of the treason that he layeth upon you?\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"and if he die shall I be quit?\"\n\n\"Yea, truly, Sir, and so be that you have no will to come for\nlove of me. For right well should I love your coming.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"never shall be the day my services shall fail\nyou, so I be in place, and you in need thereof.\"\n\nHe taketh leave and departeth, armed. The Damsel of the Car\ncommendeth him to God, and Perceval departeth full speed and\nrideth so far on his journeys that he cometh to his uncle's\nhermitage and entereth in, thinking to find Lancelot. But his\nuncle telleth him that he hath departed all sound and all heal of\nhis wound, as of all other malady, as him thinketh.",
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