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  "work": {
    "slug": "high-history-of-the-holy-graal",
    "name": "High History of the Holy Graal"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
      "url": "/sources/grail-romances/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 25,
    "slug": "25-the-high-history-of-the-holy-graal-branch-xxiv",
    "title": "The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch XXIV",
    "of": 36,
    "words": 6285,
    "text": "## The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch XXIV\n\n\nTITLE I.\n\nHere the story is silent of the kingdom, and of King Arthur and\nMessire Gawain that remain in the castle to maintain and guard it\nuntil they shall have garnished it of folk. Here speaketh it\nword of the knight's son of the Waste Manor, there whither the\nbrachet led Messire Gawain where he found the knight that\nLancelot had slain. He had one son whose name was Meliant, and\nhe had not forgotten his father's death; rather, thereof did\nwrath rankle in his heart. He heard tell that Briant of the\nIsles had great force and great puissance, and that he warred\nupon King Arthur's land, insomuch as that he had already slain\nmany of his knights. Thitherward goeth he, and is come to where\nBriant was in a castle of his own. He telleth him how Lancelot\nhad slain his father in such sort, and prayeth him right\ncourteously that he would make him knight, for that right fain\nwould he avenge his father, and therefore would he help him in\nthe war the best he might. Briant made much joy thereof, and\nmade him knight in right costly sort, and he was the comeliest\nknight and the most valiant of his age in Briant's court, and\ngreatly did he desire to meet with Lancelot. They marvelled much\nin the land and kingdom what had become of him. The more part\nthought that he was dead, albeit dead he was not, but rather\nsound and hale and whole, had it not been for the death of Queen\nGuenievre, whereof the sorrow so lay at his heart that he might\nnot forget it. He rode one day amidst a forest, and overtook a\nknight and a damsel that made great joy together, singing and\nmaking disport.\n\n\"By God,\" saith the damsel, \"If this knight that cometh here will\nremain, he shall have right good lodging. It is already nigh\neventide, and never will he find hostel so good to-day.\"\n\n\"Damsel.\" saith Lancelot, \"Of good hostel have I sore need, for I\nam more than enough weary.\"\n\n\"So be all they,\" saith she, \"that come from the land of the rich\nKing Fisherman, for none may suffer the pain and travail and he\nbe not good knight.\"\n\nII.\n\n\"Ah, damsel,\" saith Lancelot, \"Which is the way to the castle\nwhereof you speak?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the knight, \"You will go by this cross that you see\nbefore you, and we will go by that other way, to a certain hold.\nHaply we shall find you at the castle or ever you depart thence.\"\n\nLancelot goeth his way and leaveth them.\n\n\"By my head,\" saith the damsel to the knight, \"This that goeth\nthere is Lancelot. He knoweth me not, albeit I know him well,\nand I hear that he is sore troubled of his sorrow and mis-ease.\nNatheless, please God, I will have vengeance of him or ever he\ndeparteth from the castle whither he goeth to harbour. He made\nmarry perforce a knight that loved me better than aught beside,\nand to a damsel that he loved not a whit. And so much might he\nstill better perceive when he saw that she ate not at his table,\nbut was seated along with the squires, and that none did aught\nfor her at the castle. But the knight will not abandon her for\nhis own honour, and for that I should be blamed thereof.\"\n\nThe evening draweth on and Lancelot goeth toward the castle, that\nwas right uneath to find and in an unfrequented part. He espieth\nit at the head of the forest, and seeth that it is large and\nstrong, with strong barbicans embattelled, and at the entrance of\nthe gateway were fifteen heads of knights hanging. He found\nwithout a knight that came from the forest, and asked him what\ncastle it was, and he made answer that it was called the Castle\nof the Griffon.\n\n\"And why are these heads hanging at this door?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"The daughter of the lord of the castle is the\nfairest in the world and that is known in any kingdom, and needs\nmust she be offered to wife to all knights that harbour within.\nHe that can draw a sword that is fixed in a column in the midst\nof the hall, and fetch it forth, he shall have her of right\nwithout forfeit.\"\n\nIII.\n\n\"All these have made assay whose heads you see hanging at the\ndoor, but never might none of them remove the sword, and on this\noccasion were they beheaded. Now is it said that none may draw\nit forth, unless he that draweth be better knight than another,\nand needs must he be one of them that have been at the Graal.\nBut, and you be minded to believe me, fair Sir,\" saith the\nknight, \"You will go elsewhither, for ill lodging is it in a\nplace where one must needs set body and life in adventure of\ndeath, and none ought to be blamed for escaping from his own\nharm. Sir, the castle is right fell, for it hath underground, at\nthe issue of a cavern that is there, a lion and a griffon that\nhave devoured more than half a hundred knights.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Lancelot, \"It is evening, nor know I how I may go\nfarther this day, for I know not whither I go sith that I know\nnot the places nor the ways of the forest.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the knight, \"I speak only for your own good, and God\ngrant you depart hence, honour safe.\"\n\nLancelot findeth the door of the castle all open, and entereth in\nall armed, and alighteth before the master-hall. The King was\nleaning at the windows, and biddeth stall his horse.\n\nIV.\n\nLancelot is entered into the hall, and findeth knights and\ndamsels at the tables and playing at the chess, but none did he\nfind to salute him nor make him cheer of his coming save the lord\nonly, for such was the custom of the castle. The lord bade him\nbe disarmed.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"Right well may you allow me wear my arms, for\nthey be the fairest garniture and the richest I have.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the lord of the castle, \"No knight eateth armed\nwithin yonder, but he that cometh armed in hither disarmeth\nhimself by my leave. He may take his arms again without gainsay,\nso neither I nor other desire to do him a hurt.\"\n\nWith that two squires disarm him. The lord of the Castle maketh\nbring a right rich robe wherein to apparel him. The tables were\nset and the meats served. The damsel issued forth of her chamber\nand was accompanied of two knights as far as the hall. She\nlooketh at Lancelot, and seeth that he is a right comely knight,\nand much liketh her of his bearing and countenance, and she\nthinketh to herself that sore pity would it be so comely knight\nshould have his head smitten off.\n\nV.\n\nLancelot saluted the damsel and made great cheer, and when they\nhad eaten in hall, forthwith behold you, the damsel where she\ncometh that Lancelot overtook in the forest with the knight.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she to the lord of the castle, \"You have harboured\nthis night your deadly enemy that slew your brother at the Waste\nManor.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" saith the lord of the manor, \"I think not so, for\nhim would I not have harboured, nor will I not believe it for\ntrue until such time as I have proved it. Sir,\" saith he to\nLancelot, \"Make the demand that the others make!\"\n\n\"What is it?\" saith Lancelot.\n\n\"See there my daughter! Ask her of me, and if you be such as you\nought to be, I will give her to you.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Lancelot, \"No knight is there in the world so good\nbut ought to plume him upon having her to wife, so always she\nwere willing, and, so I thought that you would be willing to give\nher to me, I would willingly ask you.\"\n\nLancelot spake otherwise than as he thought, for the departing of\nthe Queen and the sorrow thereof lay so at his heart that never\nagain might he lean upon any love in the world, neither of dame\nnor damsel. He asked his daughter of the knight of the castle,\nand came before him to save the custom so that he might not have\nblame thereof. And he showed him the sword that is in the\ncolumn, all inlaid with gold.\n\n\"Go,\" saith he, \"and fulfil the custom, as other knights have\ndone.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" saith Lancelot.\n\n\"They might not draw forth the sword from this column, and so\nfailed of my daughter and of their lives.\"\n\n\"Lord God,\" saith Lancelot, \"Defend me from this custom!\"\n\nAnd he cometh toward the column as fast as he may, and seizeth\nthe sword with both hands. So soon as he touched it, the sword\ndraweth it forth with such a wrench that the column quaked\nthereof. The damsel was right joyful thereat, albeit she\nmisdoubted the fellness and cruelty of her father, for never yet\nhad she seen knight that pleased her so much to love as he.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the other damsel, \"I tell you plainly, this is\nLancelot, the outrageous, that slew your brother. Natheless, is\nit no lie that he is one of the best knights of the world, albeit\nby the stoutness of his knighthood and his valour many an outrage\nhath he done, and more shall he yet do and he escape you, and, so\nyou will believe me, you will never allow him to depart thus;\nsith that and you kill him or slay him you will save the life of\nmany a knight.\"\n\nThe daughter of the lord of the castle is sore displeased of the\ndamsel for this that she saith, and looketh at Lancelot from time\nto time and sigheth, but more durst she not do. Much marvelleth\nshe, sith that Lancelot hath drawn the sword forth of the column,\nthat he asketh her not of her father as his own liege woman, but\nhe was thinking of another thing, and never was he so sorrowful\nof any lady as he was for the Queen. But whatsoever thought or\ndesire he may have therein, he telleth the lord of the castle\nthat he holdeth him to his covenant made at such time as the\nsword was still fixed in the column.\n\n\"I have a right not to hold thereto,\" saith the lord of the\ncastle, \"Nor shall I break not my vow and I fail you herein; for\nno man is bound to give his daughter to his mortal enemy. Sith\nthat you have slain my brother, you are my mortal enemy, and were\nI to give her to you, she ought not to wish it, and were she to\ngrant you her love she would be a fool and a madwoman.\"\n\nRight sorrowful is the damsel or this that she heareth her father\nsay. She would fain that Lancelot and she were in the forest,\nright in the depth thereof. But Lancelot had no mind to be as\nshe was thinking. The lord of the castle made guard the gateway\nof the castle well, in such sort that Lancelot might issue\ntherefrom on no side. Afterward he bade his knights privily that\nthey take heed on their lives that they be all ready on the\nmorrow and all garnished of their arms, for that it was his\npurpose to smite off Lancelot's head and hang it above all the\nothers.\n\nVI.\n\nThe daughter of the lord knew these tidings and was right\nsorrowful thereof, for she thinketh never more to have joy at\nheart and he shall be slain in such manner. She sendeth him\ngreeting by her own privy messenger, as she that loveth him\nbetter than aught else living in the world, and so biddeth and\nprayeth him be garnished of his arms, and ready to protect his\nlife, for that her father is fain to smite off his head.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the messenger, \"Your force would avail you nought as\nagainst my lord, for to-morrow there will be a dozen knights all\narmed at the issue of the gate whereby you entered to-night, and\nhe saith that he purposeth to cut off your head there where he\ncut the heads off the other knights. Without the gate there will\nlikewise be another dozen knights all armed. No knight is there\nin the world so good as that he might issue forth of this castle\nthrough the midst of these four and twenty knights, but my lady\nsendeth you word that there is a cavern under this castle that\ngoeth therefrom underground as far as the forest, so that a\nknight may well pass thereby all armed, but there is therein a\nlion, the fiercest and most horrible in the world, and two\nserpents that are called griffons, that have the face of a man\nand the beaks of birds and eyes of an owl and teeth of a dog and\nears of an ass and feet of a lion and tail of a serpent, and they\nhave couched them therewithin, but never saw no man beasts so\nfell and felonous. Wherefore the damsel biddeth you go by that\nway, by everything that you have ever loved, and that you fail\nher not, for she would fain speak with you at the issue of the\ncavern in an orchard that is nigh a right broad river not far\nfrom this castle, and will make your destrier be brought after\nyou underground.\"\n\n\"By my head,\" saith Lancelot, \"And she had not conjured me in\nsuch sort, and were it not for love of herself, I would have\nrather set myself in hazard with the knights than with the wild\nbeasts, for far father would I have delivered myself from them,\nand so I might, than go forth in such-wise.\"\n\n\"She sendeth you word,\" saith the messenger, \"that so you do not\nthus, no further trouble will she take concerning you. She doth\nit of dread lest she lose your love; and here behold a brachet\nthat she sendeth you by me that you will carry with you into the\ncavern. So soon as you shalt see the serpent griffons that have\ncouched them therein, you shall show them this and cast her down\nbefore them. The griffons love her as much as one beast may love\nanother, and shall have such joy and such desire to play with the\nbrachet that they will leave you alone, and have such good will\ntoward you that they will not look at you after to do you any\nhurt. But no man is there in the world, no matter how well\nsoever he were armed, nor how puissant soever he were in himself,\nmight never pass them otherwise, but he should be devoured of\nthem. But no safeguard may you have as against the lion but of\nGod only and your own hardiment.\"\n\n\"Tell my damsel,\" saith Lancelot, \"that all her commandment will\nI do, but this cowardize resembleth none other, that I shall go\nfight with beasts and leave to do battle with knights.\"\n\nThis was then repeated to the damsel, that marvelled her much\nthereat, and said that he was the hardiest knight in the world.\n\nVII.\n\nLancelot armed him toward daybreak, and had his sword girt, his\nshield at his neck, and his spear in his hand. So he entered\ninto the cavern, all shamefast, and the brachet followeth after,\nthat he deigned not to carry, and so cometh he to the place where\nthe griffons were. So soon as they heard him coming they dress\nthem on their feet, and then writhe along as serpents, then cast\nforth such fire, and so bright a flame amidst the rock, as that\nall the cavern is lighted up thereof, and they see by the\nbrightness of light of their jaws the brachet coming. So soon as\nthey have espied her, they carry her in their claws and make her\nthe greatest cheer in the world. Lancelot passeth beyond without\ngainsay, and espieth, toward the issue of the cavern, the lion\nthat was come from the forest all famished. He cometh thither\nright hardily, sword drawn. The lion cometh toward him, jaws\nyawning, and claws bared, thinking to fix them in his habergeon,\nbut Lancelot preventeth him and smiteth him so stoutly that he\ncutteth off thigh and leg together. When the lion feeleth\nhimself thus maimed, he seizeth him by the teeth and the claws of\nhis fore feet and rendeth away half the skirt of his habergeon.\nThereupon Lancelot waxeth wroth. He casteth his shield to the\nground and approacheth the lion closer. He seeth that he openeth\nhis jaws wide to avenge himself, and thrusteth his sword the\nstraightest he may into his gullet, and the lion giveth out a\nroar and falleth dead. The damsel, that had come into the\ncavern, heareth that the lion is dead.\n\nVIII.\n\nLancelot issued forth and so cometh into the orchard beside the\nforest, and wiped his sword on the freshness of the green grass.\nThereupon behold you the damsel that cometh.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she to Lancelot, \"Are you wounded in any place?\"\n\n\"Damsel, nowhere, thank God!\"\n\nAnother damsel leadeth a horse into the orchard. The damsel of\nthe castle looketh at Lancelot.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the damsel, \"Meseemeth that you are not over\njoyous.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith he, \"If I be not, I have good right, for I have\nlost the thing in the world that most I loved.\"\n\n\"And you have won me,\" saith she, \"so you remain not here, that\nam the fairest damsel in this kingdom, and I have saved you your\nlife for this, that you grant me your love, for mine own would I\nfain give unto you.\"\n\n\"Gramercy, damsel,\" saith Lancelot, \"Your love and your good\nwill fain would I have; but neither you nor none other damsel\nought not to have affiance in me, and I might so soon set\ncarelessly aside the love to whom my heart owed its obedience,\nfor the worthiness and the courtesy that were lodged in her. Nor\nnever hereafter, so long as I live, shall I love none other in\nlike manner; wherefore all others commend I to God, and to\nyourself, as for leave-taking to one at whose service I fain\nwould be; I say that if you shall have need of me, and so I be in\nplace and free, I will do all I may to protect your honour.\"\n\nIX.\n\n\"Ha, God!\" saith the damsel, \"How am I betrayed, sith that I am\nparted from the best knight in the world! Lancelot, you have\ndone that which never yet no knight might do! Now am I grieved\nthat you should escape on such wise, and that your life hath been\nsaved in this manner by me. Better should I love you mine own\ndead, than another's living. Now would I fain that you had had\nyour head smitten off, and that it were hanging with the others!\nSo would I solace myself by beholding it!\"\n\nLancelot took no account of that he heard, for the grief that lay\nat his heart of the Queen. He mounteth on his horse and issueth\nforth of the orchard by a postern gate, and entereth into the\nforest, and commendeth him to God. The lord of the Castle of the\nGriffons marvelleth much that Lancelot delayeth so long. He\nthinketh that he durst not come down, and saith to his knights,\n\"Let us go up and cut off his head, sith that he durst not come\ndown.\"\n\nHe maketh search for him all through the hall and the chambers,\nbut findeth him not.\n\n\"He hath gone,\" saith he, \"through the cavern, so have the\ngriffons devoured him.\"\n\nSo he sendeth the twain most hardy of his knights to see. But\nthe brachet had returned after the damsel, whereof the griffons\nwere wroth, and they forthwith seized on the two knights that\nentered into their cavern and slew them and devoured.\n\nX.\n\nWhen the lord of the castle knew it, he went into the chamber\nwhere his daughter was, and found her weeping, and thinketh that\nit is for the two knights that are dead. News is brought him\nthat the lion is dead at the issue of the cavern, and thereby\nwell knoweth he that Lancelot is gone. He biddeth his knights\nfollow after him, but none was there so hardy as that he durst\nfollow. The damsel was right fain they should go after him, if\nonly they might bring him back to the castle, for so mortally was\nshe taken of his love that she thought of none other thing. But\nLancelot had her not in remembrance, but only another, and rode\non sadly right amidst the forest, and looked from time to time at\nthe rent the lion had made in his habergeon. He rideth until he\nis come toward evening to a great valley where was forest on the\none side and the other, and the valley stretched onward half a\nscore great leagues Welsh. He looketh to the right, and on the\ntop of the mountain beside the valley he seeth a chapel newly\nbuilded that was right fair and rich, and it was covered of lead,\nand had at the back two quoins that seemed to be of gold. By the\nside of this chapel were three houses dight right richly, each\nstanding by itself facing the chapel. There was a right fair\ngrave-yard round about the chapel, that was enclosed at the\ncompass of the forest, and a spring came down, full clear, from\nthe heights of the forest before the chapel and ran into the\nvalley with a great rushing; and each of the houses had its own\norchard, and the orchard an enclosure. Lancelot heareth vespers\nbeing chanted in the chapel, and seeth the path that turned\nthitherward, but the mountain is so rugged that he could not go\nalong it on horseback. So he alighteth and leadeth his horse\nafter him by the reins until he cometh nigh the chapel.\n\nXI.\n\nThere were three hermits therewithin that had sung their vespers,\nand came over against Lancelot. They bowed their heads to him\nand he saluted them, and then asked of them what place was this?\nAnd they told him that the place there was Avalon. They make\nstable his horse. He left his arms without the chapel and\nentereth therein, and saith that never hath he seen none so fair\nnor so rich. There were within three other places, right fair\nand seemly dight of rich cloths of silk and rich corners and\nfringes of gold. He seeth the images and the crucifixes all\nnewly fashioned, and the chapel illumined of rich colours; and\nmoreover in the midst thereof were two coffins, one against the\nother, and at the four corners four tall wax tapers burning, that\nwere right rich, in four right rich candlesticks. The coffins\nwere covered with two pails, and there were clerks that chanted\npsalms in turn on the one side and the other.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Lancelot to one of the hermits, \"For whom were these\ncoffins made?\"\n\n\"For King Arthur and Queen Guenievre.\"\n\n\"King Arthur is not yet dead,\" saith Lancelot.\n\n\"No, in truth, please God! but the body of the Queen lieth in\nthe coffin before us and in the other is the head of her son,\nuntil such time as the King shall be ended, unto whom God grant\nlong life! But the Queen bade at her death that his body should\nbe set beside her own when he shall end. Hereof have we the\nletters and her seal in this chapel, and this place made she be\nbuilded new on this wise or ever she died.\"\n\nXI.\n\nWhen Lancelot heareth that it is the Queen that lieth in the\ncoffin, he is so straitened in his heart and in his speech that\nnever a word may he say. But no semblant of grief durst he make\nother than such as might not be perceived, and right great\ncomfort to him was it that there was an image of Our Lady at the\nhead of the coffin. He knelt down the nighest he might to the\ncoffin, as it had been to worship the image, and set his race and\nhis mouth to the stone of the coffin, and sorroweth for her right\nsweetly.\n\n\"Ha, Lady,\" saith he, \"But that I dread the blame of the people,\nnever again would I seek to depart from this place, but here\nwould I save my soul and pray for yours; so would it be much\nrecomforting to me that I should be so nigh, and should see the\nsepulchre wherein your body lieth that had so great sweetness and\nbounty. God grant me of your pleasure, that at my death I may\nstill be a-nigh, and that I may die in such manner and in such\nplace as that I may be shrouded and buried in this holy chapel\nwhere this body lieth.\"\n\nThe night cometh on. A clerk cometh to the hermits and saith,\n\"Never yet did no knight cry mercy of God so sweetly, nor of His\nsweet Mother, as did this knight that is in the chapel.\"\n\nAnd the hermits make answer that knights for the most part do\nwell believe in God. They come to the chapel for him and bid him\ncome thence, for that meat is ready and he should come to eat,\nand after that go to sleep and rest, for it is full time so to\ndo. He telleth them that as for his eating this day it is stark\nnought, for a desire and a will hath taken him to keep vigil in\nthe chapel before one of the images of Our Lady. No wish had he\nonce to depart thence before the day, and he would fain that the\nnight should last far longer than it did. The good men durst not\nforce him against his will; they say, rather, that the worshipful\nman is of good life who will keep watch in such manner throughout\nthe night without drink or meat, for all that he seemeth to be\nright weary.\n\nXIII.\n\nLancelot was in the chapel until the morrow before the tomb. The\nhermits apparelled them to do the service that they chanted each\nday, mass for the soul of the Queen and her son. Lancelot\nheareth them with right good will. When the masses were sung, he\ntaketh leave of the hermits and looketh at the coffin right\ntenderly. He commendeth the body that lieth therein to God and\nHis sweet Mother; then findeth he without the chapel his horse\naccoutred ready, and mounteth forthwith, and departeth, and\nlooketh at the place and the chapel so long as he may see them.\nHe hath ridden so far that he is come nigh Cardoil, and findeth\nthe land wasted and desolate, and the towns burnt, whereof is he\nsore grieved. He meeteth a knight that came from that part, and\nhe was wounded full sore. Lancelot asketh him whence he cometh,\nand he saith, \"Sir, from towards Cardoil. Kay the Seneschal,\nwith two other knights, is leading away Messire Ywain li Aoutres\ntoward the castle of the Hard Rock. I thought to help to rescue\nhim, but they have wounded me in such sort as you see.\"\n\n\"Are they ever so far away?\" saith Lancelot.\n\n\"Sir, they will pass just now at the head of this forest; and so\nyou are fain to go thither, I will return with you right\nwillingly and help you to the best I may.\"\n\nLancelot smiteth his horse with the spurs forthwith, and the\nknight after him, and espieth Kay the Seneschal, that was\nbringing Messire Ywain along at a great pace, and had set him\nupon a trotting hackney, for so he thought that none would know\nhim. Lancelot overtaketh him and crieth, \"By my head, Kay the\nSeneschal, shame had you enough of that you did to King Arthur\nwhen you slew his son, and as much more ought you now to have of\nthus warring upon him again!\"\n\nHe smiteth his horse of his spurs, lance in rest, and Kay the\nSeneschal turneth toward him, and they mell together with their\nspears on their shields, and pierce them in such sort that an\nells-length of each shaft passeth through beyond.\n\nXIV.\n\nThe lances were strong so as that they brast not. They draw them\nback to themselves so stoutly and come together so fiercely that\ntheir horses stagger and they lose the stirrups. Lancelot\ncatcheth Kay the Seneschal at the passing beyond, in the midst of\nthe breast, and thrusteth his spear into him so far that the\npoint remained in the flesh, and Kay to-brast his own; and sore\ngrieved was he when he felt himself wounded. The knight that was\nwounded overthrew one of the two knights. Kay is on the ground,\nand Lancelot taketh his horse and setteth Messire Ywain li\nAoutres thereupon, that was right sore wounded so as that he\nscarce might bear it. Kay the Seneschal maketh his knight\nremount, and holdeth his sword grasped in his fist as though he\nhad been stark wood. Lancelot seeth the two knights sore badly\nwounded, and thinketh that and he stay longer they may remain on\nthe field. He maketh them go before him, and Kay the Seneschal\nfolloweth them behind, himself the third knight, that is right\nwroth of the wound he feeleth and the blood that he seeth.\nLancelot bringeth off his knights like as the wild-boar goeth\namong the dogs, and Kay dealeth him great buffets of his sword\nwhen he may catch him, and Lancelot him again, and so they\ndepart, fencing in such sort.\n\nXV.\n\nWhen Kay the Seneschal seeth that he may not harm him, he turneth\nhim back, full of great wrath, and his heart pricketh to avenge\nhim thereof and he may get at him, for he is the knight of the\ncourt that most he hateth. He is come back to the Castle of the\nHard Rock. Briant of the Isles asketh him who hath wounded him\nin such sort, and he telleth him that he was bringing thither\nYwain li Aoutres when Lancelot rescued him.\n\n\"And the King,\" saith Briant, \"Is he repaired thither?\"\n\n\"I have heard no tidings of him at all,\" saith Kay, \"For no\nleisure had I to ask of any.\"\n\nBriant and his knights take much thought as concerning Lancelot's\ncoming, for they are well persuaded that Lancelot hath come for\nthat the King is dead and Messire Gawain, whereof they make right\ngreat joy. Kay the Seneschal maketh him be disarmed and his\nwound searched. They tell him he need not fear it shall be his\ndeath, but that he is right sore wounded.\n\nXVI.\n\nLancelot is entered into the castle of Cardoil, and his wounded\nknights withal, and findeth the folk in sore dismay. Great dole\nmake they in many places and much lamentation for King Arthur,\nand say that now nevermore may they look for succeur to none, and\nhe be dead and Messire Gawain. But they give Lancelot joy of\nthat he hath rescued Messire Ywain li Aoutres, and were so\nsomewhat comforted and made great cheer. The tidings thereof\ncame to the knights that were in the castle, and they all come\nforward to meet him save they that were wounded, and so led him\nup to the castle, and Messire Ywain with him and the other knight\nthat was wounded. All the knights of the castle were right glad,\nand ask him tidings of King Arthur, and whether he were dead or\nno. And Lancelot telleth them that he was departed from him at\nthe Palace Meadow, where he won the white destrier and the crown\nof gold there where the tidings were brought to him that Queen\nGuinievre was dead.\n\nXVII.\n\n\"Then you tell us of a truth that the King is on live, and\nMessire Gawain?\"\n\n\"Both, you may be certain!\" saith Lancelot.\n\nThereupon were they gladder than before. They told him of their\nown mischance, how Briant of the Isles had put them to the worse,\nand how Kay the Seneschal was with him to do them hurt. For he\nit is that taketh most pains to do them evil.\n\n\"By my head,\" saith Lancelot, \"Kay the Seneschal ought of right\nto take heed and with-hold him from doing you ill, but he\ndeparted from the field with the point of my spear in him when I\nrescued Messire Ywain.\"\n\nXVIII.\n\nThe knights are much comforted of the coming of Lancelot, but he\nis much grieved that he findeth so many of them wounded. Meliant\nof the Waste Manor is at the castle of the Hard Rock, and good\nfellow is it betwixt him and Kay the Seneschal. He is right glad\nof the tidings he hath heard, that Lancelot is come, and saith\nthat he is the knight of the world that most he hateth, and that\nhe will avenge him of his father and he may meet him. There come\nbefore the castle of Cardoil one day threescore knights armed,\nand they seize upon their booty betwixt the castle and the\nforest. Lancelot issueth forth all armed, and seven of the best\nof the castle with him. He cometh upon them after that they have\nled away their plunder. He overtaketh one knight and smiteth him\nwith his spear right through the body, and the other knights make\nan onset upon the others and many to-brake their spears, and much\nclashing was there of steel on armour; and there fell at the\nassembly on one side and the other full a score knights, whereof\nsome were wounded right sore. Meliant of the Waste Manor espied\nLancelot, and right great joy made he of seeing him, and smiteth\nhim so stout a buffet on the shield that he to-breaketh his\nspear.\n\nXIX.\n\nLancelot smiteth him amidst the breast so grimly that he maketh\nhim bend backwards over the saddle behind, and so beareth him to\nthe ground, legs uppermost, over his horse's croup, and trampleth\nhim under his horse's feet. Lancelot was minded to alight to the\nground to take him, but Briant of the Isles cometh and maketh him\nmount again perforce. The numbers grew on the one side and the\nother of knights that came from Cardoil and from the Hard Rock.\nRight great was the frushing of lances and the clashing of swords\nand the overthrow of horses and knights. Briant of the Isles and\nLancelot come against each other so stoutly that they pierce\ntheir shields and cleave their habergeons, and they thrust with\ntheir spears so that the flesh is broken under the ribs and the\nshafts are all-to-splintered. They hurtle against each other so\ngrimly at the by-passing that their eyes sparkle as it were of\nstars in their heads, and the horses stagger under them. They\nhold their swords drawn, and so return the one toward the other\nlike lions. Such buffets deal they upon their helms that they\nbeat them in and make the fire leap out by the force of the\nsmiting of iron by steel. And Meliant cometh all armed toward\nLancelot to aid Briant of the Isles, but Lucan the Butler cometh\nto meet him, and smiteth him with his spear so stoutly that he\nthrusteth it right through his shield and twisteth his arm gainst\nhis side. He breaketh his spear at the by-passing, and Meliant\nalso breaketh his, but he was wounded passing sore.\n\nXX.\n\nThereupon he seizeth him by the bridle and thinketh to lead him\naway, but the knights and the force of Briant rescue him. The\nclashing of arms lasted great space betwixt Briant of the Isles\nand Lancelot, and each was mightily wrath for that each was\nwounded. Either seized other many times by the bridle, and each\nwas right fain to lead the other to his own hold, but the force\nof knights on the one side and the other disparted them asunder.\nThus the stour lasted until evening, until that the night\nsundered them. But Briant had nought to boast of at departing,\nfor Lancelot and his men carried off four of his by force right\nsore wounded, besides them that remained dead on the field.\nBriant of the Isles and Meliant betook them back all sorrowful\nfor their knights that are taken and dead. Lancelot cometh back\nto Cardoil, and they of the castle make him right great joy of\nthe knights that they bring taken, and say that the coming of the\ngood knight Lancelot should be great comfort to them until such\ntime as King Arthur should repair back and Messire Gawain. The\nwounded knights that were in the castle turned to healing of\ntheir wounds, whereof was Lancelot right glad. They were as many\nas five and thirty within the castle. Of all the King's knights\nwere there no more save Lancelot and the wounded knight that he\nbrought along with him.",
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