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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/"
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  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 33,
    "slug": "33-the-high-history-of-the-holy-graal-branch-xxxii",
    "title": "The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch XXXII",
    "of": 36,
    "words": 7919,
    "text": "## The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch XXXII\n\n\nINCIPIT.\n\nHere beginneth the last branch of the Graal in the name of the\nFather, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.\n\nTITLE I.\n\nThe story saith that Perceval went his way through the forest.\nHe saw pass before him two squires, and each carried a wild deer\ntrussed behind him that had been taken by hounds. Perceval\ncometh to them a great pace and maketh them abide.\n\n\"Lords,\" saith he, \"Whither will you carry this venison?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" say the squires, \"To the castle of Ariste, whereof Aristor\nis lord.\"\n\n\"Is there great throng of knights at the castle?\" saith Perceval.\n\n\"Sir,\" say the squires, \"Not a single one is there, but within\nfour days will be a thousand there, for Messire is about to\nmarry, whereof is great preparation toward. He is going to take\nthe daughter of the Widow Lady, whom he carried off by force\nbefore her castle of Camelot, and hath set her in the house of\none of his vavasours until such time as he shall espouse her.\nBut we are right sorrowful, for she is of most noble lineage and\nof great beauty and of the most worth in the world. So is it\ngreat dole that he shall have her, for he will cut her head off\non the day of the New Year, sith that such is his custom.\"\n\n\"And one might carry her off,\" saith Perceval, \"would he not do\nwell therein?\"\n\n\"Yea, Sir!\" say the squires, \"Our Lord God would be well pleased\nthereof, for such cruelty is the greatest that ever any knight\nmay have. Moreover, he is much blamed of a good hermit that he\nhath slain, and every day desireth he to meet the brother of the\ndamsel he is about to take, that is one of the best knights in\nthe world. And he saith that he would slay him more gladly than\never another knight on live.\"\n\n\"And where is your lord?\" saith Perceval, \"Can you give me\nwitting?\"\n\n\"Yea, Sir,\" say the squires, \"We parted from him but now in this\nforest, where he held melly with a knight that seemeth us to be\nright worshipful and valiant, and saith that he hath for name the\nKnight Hardy. And for that he told Aristor that he was a knight\nof Perceval's and of his fellowship, he ran upon him, and then\ncommanded us to come on, and said that he should vanquish him\nincontinent. We could still hear just now the blows of the\nswords yonder where we were in the forest, and Aristor is of so\ncruel conditions that no knight may pass through this forest, but\nhe is minded to slay him.\"\n\nII.\n\nWhen Perceval heard these tidings, he departed from the squires,\nand so soon as they were out of sight he goeth as great pace\nthither as they had come thence. He had ridden half a league\nWelsh when he heard the buffets they were dealing one another on\nthe helm with their swords, and right well pleased was he for\nthat the Knight Hardy held so long time melly with Aristor in\nwhom is there so much cruelty and felony. But Perceval knew not\nto what mischief the Knight Hardy had been wounded through the\nbody of a spear, so that the blood rayed out on all sides; and\nAristor had not remained whole, for he was wounded in two places.\nSo soon as Perceval espied them, he smiteth his horse of his\nspurs, lance in rest, and smiteth Aristor right through the\nbreast with such force that he maketh him lose his stirrups and\nlie down backwards over the hinder bow of the saddle. After that\nsaith he: \"I am come to my sister's wedding, of right ought it\nnot to be made without me.\"\n\nIII.\n\nAristor, that was full hardy, set himself again betwixt the bows\nof the saddle in great wrath when he seeth Perceval, and cometh\ntowards him like as if he were wood mad, sword in hand, and\ndealeth him such a buffet on the helm as that it is all dinted in\nthereby. The Knight Hardy draweth back when he seeth Perceval,\nfor he is wounded to the death through the body. He had held the\nstout so long time that he could abide no more. But or ever he\ndeparted, he had wounded Aristor in two places right grievously.\nPerceval felt the blow that was heavy, and that his helmet was\ndinted in. He cometh back to Aristor and smiteth him so passing\nstrongly that he thrusteth the spear right through his body and\noverthroweth him and his horse all of a heap. Then he alighteth\nover him and taketh off the coif of his habergeon and unlaceth\nhis ventail.\n\n\"What have you in mind to do?\" said Aristor.\n\n\"I will cut off your head,\" said Perceval, \"and present it to my\nsister whom you have failed.\"\n\n\"Do not so!\" saith Aristor, \"But let me live, and I will forgo my\nhatred.\"\n\n\"Your hatred might I well abide henceforward, meseemeth,\" saith\nPerceval, \"But one may not abide you any longer, for well have\nyou deserved this, and God willeth not to bear with you.\"\n\nHe smiteth off his head incontinent and hangeth it at his saddle-\nbow, and cometh to the Knight Hardy, and asketh him how it is\nwith him.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"I am very nigh my death, but I comfort me much\nof this that I see you tofore I die.\"\n\nPerceval is remounted on his horse, then taketh his spear and\nleaveth the body of the knight in the midst of the launde, and so\ndeparteth forthwith and leadeth the Knight Hardy to a hermitage\nthat was hard by there, and lifteth him down of his horse as\nspeedily as he may. After that, he disarmed him and made him\nconfess to the hermit, and when he was shriven of his sins and\nrepentant, and his soul had departed, he made him be enshrouded\nof the damsel that followed him, and bestowed his arms and his\nhorse on the hermit for his soul, and the horse of Aristor\nlikewise.\n\nIV.\n\nWhen mass had been sung for the knight that was dead, and the\nbody buried, Perceval departed.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the damsel that followed him, \"Even now have you\nmuch to do. Of this cruel knight and felonous you have avenged\nthis country. Now, God grant you find betimes the Red Knight\nthat slew your uncle's son. I doubt not but that you will\nconquer him, but great misgiving have I of the lion, for it is\nthe cruellest beast that saw I ever, and he so loveth his lord\nand his horse as never no beast loved another so much, and he\nhelpeth his lord right hardily to defend him.\"\n\nV.\n\nPerceval goeth toward the great Deep Forest without tarrying, and\nthe damsel after. But, or ever he came thither, he met a knight\nthat was wounded right sore, both he and his horse.\n\n\"Ha, Sir,\" saith he to Perceval, \"Enter not into this forest,\nwhence I have scarce escaped with much pains. For therein is a\nknight that had much trouble of rescuing me from his lion; and no\nless am I in dread to pass on forward, for there is a knight that\nis called Aristor, that without occasion runneth upon the knights\nthat pass through the forest.\"\n\n\"Of him,\" saith the damsel, \"need you have no fear, for you may\nsee his head hanging at the knight's saddle-bow.\"\n\nVI.\n\n\"Certes,\" saith the knight, \"Never yet was I so glad of any\ntidings I have heard, and well know I that he that slew him is\nnot lacking of great hardiment.\"\n\nThe knight departeth from Perceval, but the lion had wounded his\nhorse so passing sore in the quarters that scarce could he go.\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" saith Perceval, \"Go to the hermit in the Deep\nForest, and say I bade him give you the destrier I left with him,\nfor well I see that you have sore need thereof, and you may repay\nhim in some other manner, for rather would he have something else\nthan the horse.\"\n\nThe knight goeth him much thanks of this that he saith. He\ncometh to the hermit the best he may, and telleth him according\nas he had been charged, and the hermit biddeth him take which\ndestrier he will for the love of the knight that had slain the\nevil-doer, that did so many evil deeds in this forest.\n\n\"And I will lend you them both twain if you will.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the knight, \"I ask but for one of them.\"\n\nHe taketh Aristor's horse, that seemed him the better, and\nstraightway mounteth thereon, and abandoneth his own, that might\ngo no further. He taketh leave of the hermit, and telleth him he\nwill right well repay him, but better had it befallen him and he\nhad not taken the horse, for thereof was he slain without reason\nthereafter. A knight that was of the household of Aristor\novertook him at the corner of the forest, and knew his lord's\nhorse and had heard tell that Aristor was dead, wherefore he went\ninto the forest to bury him. He smote the knight through the\nbody with his spear and so slew him, then took the horse and went\naway forthwith. But, had Perceval known thereof, he would have\nbeen little glad, for that he asked the knight to go for the\nhorse, but he did it only for the best, and for that he rode in\ngreat misease.\n\nVII.\n\nPerceval goeth toward the Deep Forest, that is full broad and\nlong and evil seeming, and when he was entered in he had scarce\nridden a space when he espied the lion that lay in the midst of a\nlaunde under a tree and was waiting for his master, that was gone\nafar into the forest, and the lion well knew that just there was\nthe way whereby knights had to pass, and therefore had abided\nthere. The damsel draweth her back for fear, and Perceval goeth\ntoward the lion that had espied him already, and came toward him,\neyes on fire and jaws yawning wide. Perceval aimeth his spear\nand thinketh to smite him in his open mouth, but the lion swerved\naside and he caught him in the fore-leg and so dealt him a great\nwound, but the lion seizeth the horse with his claws on the\ncroup, and rendeth the skin and the flesh above the tail. The\nhorse, that feeleth himself wounded, catcheth him with his two\nhinder feet or ever he could get away, so passing strongly that\nhe breaketh the master-teeth in his jaw. The lion gave out a\nroar so loud that all the forest resounded thereof. The Red\nKnight heareth his lion roar, and so cometh thither a great\ngallop, but, or ever he was come thither, Perceval had slain the\nlion. When the knight saw his lion dead, right sorry was he\nthereof.\n\n\"By my head,\" saith he to Perceval, \"When you slew my lion you\ndid it as a traitor!\"\n\n\"And you,\" saith Perceval, \"adjudged your own death when you slew\nmy uncle's son, whose head this damsel beareth.\"\n\nPerceval cometh against him without more words, and the knight in\nlike manner with a great rushing, and breaketh his spear upon his\nshield. Perceval smiteth him with such force that he thrusteth\nhis spear right through his body and beareth him to the ground\ndead beside his horse. Perceval alighteth of his own when he\nhath slain the knight, and then mounteth him on the Red Knight's\nhorse for that his own might carry him no longer.\n\nVIII.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the damsel, \"My castle is in the midst of this\nforest, that the Red Knight reft away from me long ago. I pray\nyou now come with me thither that I may be assured thereof in\nsuch sort as that I may have it again wholly.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith Perceval, \"This have I no right to deny you.\"\n\nThey ride amidst the forest so long as that they come to the\ncastle where the damsel ought to be. It stood in the fairest\nplace of all the forest, and was enclosed of high Walls\nbattlemented, and within were fair-windowed halls. The tidings\nwere come to the castle that their lord was dead. Perceval and\nthe damsel entered in. He made the damsel be assured of them\nthat were therein, and made them yield up her castle that they\nwell knew was hers of right inheritance. The damsel made the\nhead be buried that she had carried so long, and bade that every\nday should mass be done within for the soul of him. When\nPerceval had sojourned therein as long as pleased him, he\ndeparted thence. The damsel thanked him much of the bounty he\nhad done her as concerning the castle that she had again by him,\nfor never again should it be reconquered of another, as well she\nknew.\n\nIX.\n\nJosephus telleth us in the scripture he recordeth for us, whereof\nthis history was drawn out of Latin into Romance, that none need\nbe in doubt that these adventures befell at that time in Great\nBritain and in all the other kingdoms, and plenty enow more\nbefell than I record, but these were the most certain. The\nhistory saith that Perceval is come into a hold, there where his\nsister was in the house of a vavasour that was a right worshipful\nman. Each day the damsel made great dole of the knight that was\nto take her, for the day was already drawing somewhat nigh, and\nshe knew not that he was dead. Full often lamented she the Widow\nLady her mother, that in like sort made great dole for her\ndaughter. The vavasour comforted the damsel right sweetly and\nlonged for her brother Perceval, but little thought he that he\nwas so near him. And Perceval is come to the hold all armed, and\nalighteth at the mounting-stage before the hall. The vavasour\ncometh to meet him, and marvelleth much who he is, for the more\npart believed that he was one of Aristor's knights.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the vavasour, \"Welcome may you be!\"\n\n\"Good adventure may you have, Sir!\" saith Perceval. He holdeth\nAristor's head in his hand by the hair, whereof the vavasour\nmarvelled much that he should carry a knight's head in such-wise.\nPerceval cometh to the master-chamber of the hall, where his\nsister was, that bewailed her right sore.\n\nX.\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith he to his sister, \"Weep not, for your wedding\nhath failed. You may know it well by this token!\"\n\nHe throweth the head of Aristor before her on the ground, then\nsaith unto her: \"Behold here the head of him that was to take\nyou!\"\n\nThe damsel heareth Perceval her brother that was armed, and\nthereby she knoweth him again. She leapeth up and maketh him the\ngreatest joy that ever damsel made to knight. She knoweth not\nwhat to do. So joyful is she, that all have pity on her that see\nher of her weeping for the joy that she maketh of her brother.\nThe story saith that they sojourned therewithin and that the\nvavasour showed them much honour. The damsel made cast the\nknight's head into a river that ran round about the hold. The\nvavasour was right glad of his death for the great felony that he\nhad in him, and for that needs must the damsel die in less than a\nyear and she had espoused him.\n\nXI.\n\nWhen Perceval had been therein as long as it pleased him, he\nthanked the vavasour much of the honour he had done him and his\nsister, and departed, he and his sister along with him on the\nmule whereon she had been brought thither. Perceval rode so long\non his journeys that he is come to Camelot and findeth his mother\nin great dole for her daughter that should be Queen, for she\nthought surely that never should she see her more. Full\nsorrowful was she moreover of her brother, the King Hermit that\nhad been killed in such-wise. Perceval cometh to the chamber\nwhere his mother was lying and might not stint of making dole.\nHe taketh his sister by the hand and cometh before her. So soon\nas she knoweth him she beginneth to weep for joy, and kisseth\nthem one after the other.\n\n\"Fair son,\" saith she, \"Blessed be the hour that you were born\nfor by you all my great joy cometh back to me! Now well may I\ndepart, for I have lived long enow.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"Your life ought to be an offence to none, for\nto none hath it ever done ill, but, please God, you shall not end\nin this place, but rather you shall end in the castle that was\nyour cousin's german, King Fisherman, there where is the most\nHoly Graal and the sacred hallows are.\"\n\n\"Fair son,\" saith she, \"You say well, and there would I fain be.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"God will provide counsel and means whereby you\nshall be there; and my sister, and she be minded to marry, will\nwe set in good place, where she may live worshipfully.\"\n\n\"Certes, fair brother,\" saith she, \"None shall I never marry,\nsave God alone.\"\n\n\"Fair son,\" saith the Widow Lady, \"The Damsel of the Car goeth to\nseek you, and I shall end not until such time as she hath round\nyou.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"In some place will she have tidings of me and\nI of her.\"\n\n\"Fair son,\" saith the Lady, \"The damsel is here within that the\nfelonous knight wounded through the arm, that carried of your\nsister, but she is healed.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"I am well avenged.\"\n\nHe telleth her all the adventures until the time when he\nreconquered the castle that was his uncle's. He sojourned long\ntime with his mother in the castle, and saw that the land was all\nassured and peaceable. He departed thence and took his leave,\nfor he had not yet achieved all that he had to do. His mother\nremained long time, and his sister, at Camelot, and led a good\nlife and a holy. The lady made make a chapel right rich about\nthe sepulchre that lay between the forest and Camelot, and had it\nadorned of rich vestments, and stablished a chaplain that should\nsing mass there every day. Sithence then hath the place been so\nbuilded up as that there is an abbey there and folk of religion,\nand many bear witness that there it is still, right fair.\nPerceval was departed from Camelot and entered into the great\nforest, and so rode of a long while until he had left his\nmother's castle far behind, and came toward evening to the hold\nof a knight that was at the head of the forest. He harboured him\ntherein, and the knight showed him much honour and made him be\nunarmed, and brought him a robe to do on. Perceval seeth that\nthe knight is a right simple man, and that he sigheth from time\nto time.\n\nXII.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"Meseemeth you are not over joyous.\"\n\n\"Certes, Sir,\" saith the knight, \"I have no right to be, for a\ncertain man slew mine own brother towards the Deep Forest not\nlong since, and no right have I to be glad, for a worshipful man\nwas he and a loyal.\"\n\n\"Fair Sir,\" saith Perceval, \"Know you who slew him?\"\n\n\"Fair Sir, it was one of Aristor's knights, for that he was\nsitting upon a horse that had been Aristor's, and whereon another\nknight had slain him, and a hermit had lent him to my brother for\nthat the Red Knight's lion had maimed his own.\"\n\nPerceval was little glad of these tidings, for that he had sent\nhim that had been slain on account of the horse.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Perceval, \"Your brother had not deserved his death,\nmethinketh, for it was not he that slew the knight.\"\n\n\"No, Sir, I know it all of a truth, but another, that slew the\nRed Knight of the Deep Forest.\"\n\nPerceval was silent thereupon. He lay the night at the hostel\nand was harboured right well, and on the morrow departed when he\nhad taken leave. He wandered until he came to a hermitage there\nwhere he heard mass. After the service, the hermit came unto him\nand said: \"Sir,\" saith he, \"In this forest are knights all armed\nthat are keeping watch for the knight that slew Aristor and the\nRed Knight and his lion as well. Wherefore they meet no knight\nin this forest but they are minded to slay him for the knight\nthat slew these twain.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Perceval, \"God keep me from meeting such folk as\nwould do me evil.\"\n\nXIII.\n\nWith that he departed from the hermitage and took leave of the\nhermit, and rideth until that he is come into the forest and\nespieth the knight that sitteth on Aristor's horse for that he\nhath slain the other knight. A second knight was with him. They\nabide when they see Perceval.\n\n\"By my head,\" saith one of them, \"This same shield bare he that\nslew Aristor, as it was told us, and, like enough, it may be he.\"\n\nThey come toward him, full career. Perceval seeth them coming,\nand forgetteth not his spurs, but rather cometh against them the\nspeediest he may. The two knights smote him upon the shield and\nbrake their spears. Perceval overtaketh him that sitteth on\nAristor's horse and thrusteth an ell's length of his spear\nthrough his body and so overthroweth him dead.\n\nXIV.\n\nAfter that, he cometh to the other knight, that fain would have\nfled, and smiteth off the shoulder close to his side, and he\nfell dead by the side of the other. He taketh both twain of\ntheir destriers, and knotteth the reins together and driveth them\nbefore him as far as the house of the hermit, that had issued\nforth of his hermitage. He delivered unto him the horse of\nAristor and the other of the knight that he had sent thither.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Perceval, \"Well I know that and you shall see any\nknight that hath need of it and shall ask you, you will lend him\none of these horses, for great courtesy is it to aid a worshipful\nman when one seeth him in misfortune.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"But now since, were here three knights.\nSo soon as they knew that the two were dead whose horses you had\ndelivered unto me, they departed, fleeing the speediest they\nmight. I praised them much of their going, and told them they\ndid well not to die on such occasion, for that the souls of\nknights that die under arms are nigher to Hell than to Paradise.\"\n\nXV.\n\nPerceval, that never was without sore toil and travail so long as\nhe lived, departed from the hermitage and went with great\ndiligence right through the midst of the forest, and met a knight\nthat came a great gallop over against him. He knew Perceval by\nthe shield that he bare.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"I come from the Castle of the Black Hermit,\nthere where you will find the Damsel of the Car as soon as you\narrive, wherefore she sendeth you word by me that you speed your\nway and go to her to ask for the chess-board that was taken away\nfrom before Messire Gawain, or otherwise never again will you\nenter into the castle you have won. Sir,\" saith he, \"Haste,\nmoreover, on account of a thing most pitiful that I heard in this\nforest. I heard how a knight was leading a damsel against her\nwill, beating her with a great scourge. I passed by the launde\non the one side and he on the other, so that I espied him through\nthe underwood that was between us; but it seemed me that the\ndamsel was bemoaning her for the son of the Widow Lady that had\ngiven her back her castle, and the knight said that for love of\nhim he would put her into the Servent's pit. An old knight and a\npriest went after the knight to pray him have mercy on the\ndamsel, but so cruel is he, that so far from doing so, he rather\nwaxed sore wroth for that they prayed it of him, and made cheer\nand semblant as though he would have slain them.\"\n\nThe knight departed from Perceval and taketh leave and Perceval\ngoeth along the way that the knight had come, thinking that he\nwould go after the damsel for he supposeth certainly that it is\nshe to whom he gave back her castle, and would fain know what\nknight it is that entreateth her in such fashion. He hath ridden\nuntil he is come into the deepest of the forest and the thickest.\nHe bideth awhile and listeneth and heareth the voice of the\ndamsel, that was in a great valley where the Serpent's pit was,\nwherein the knight was minded to set her. She cried right loud\nfor mercy, and wept, and the knight gave her great strokes of the\nscourge to make her be still. Perceval had no will to tarry\nlonger, but rather cometh thither as fast as he may.\n\nXVI.\n\nSo soon as the damsel seeth Perceval, she knoweth him again. She\nclaspeth her two hands together and saith, \"Ha, Sir, for God's\nsake have mercy! Already have you given me back the castle\nwhereof this knight would reave me.\"\n\nThe horse whereon Perceval sat, the knight knew him.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"This horse was the horse of Messire the Red\nKnight of the Deep Forest! Now at last know I that it was you\nthat slew him!\"\n\n\"It may well be,\" saith Perceval, \"And if that I slew him, good\nright had I to do so, for he had cut off the head of a son of\nmine uncle, the which head this damsel carried of a long time.\"\n\n\"By my head,\" saith the knight, \"Sith that you slew him, you are\nmy mortal enemy!\"\n\nSo he draweth off in the midst of the launde and Perceval\nlikewise, and then they come together as fast as their horses may\ncarry them, and either giveth other great buffets in the midst of\ntheir breast with their spears the most they may. Perceval\nsmiteth the knight so passing hard that he overthroweth him to\nthe ground right over the croup of his horse, and in the fall\nthat he made, he to-brake him the master-bone of his leg so that\nhe might not move. And Perceval alighteth to the ground and\ncometh where the knight lay. And he crieth him mercy that he\nslay him not. And Perceval telleth him he need not fear death,\nnor that he is minded to slay him in such plight as he is, but\nthat like as he was fain to make the damsel do he will make him\ndo. He maketh alight the other old knight and the priest, then\nmaketh the knight be carried to the Pit of the Serpent and the\nworms, whereof was great store. The pit was dark and deep. When\nthat the knight was therein he might not live long for the worms\nthat were there. The damsel thanked Perceval much of this\ngoodness and of the other that he had done her. She departeth\nand returneth again to her castle, and was assured therein on all\nsides, nor never thereafter had she dread of no knight, for the\ncruel justice that Perceval had done on this one.\n\nXVII.\n\nThe son of the Widow Lady of his good knighthood knoweth not how\nto live without travail. He well knoweth that when he hath been\nat the Black Hermit's castle, he will in some measure have\nachieved his task. But many another thing behoveth him to do\ntofore, and little toil he thinketh it, whereof shall God be well\npleased. He hath ridden so far one day and another, that he came\ninto a land where he met knights stout and strong there where God\nwas neither believed in nor loved, but where rather they adored\nfalse images and false Lord-Gods and devils that made themselves\nmanifest. He met a knight at the entrance of a forest.\n\n\"Ha, Sir!\" saith he to Perceval, \"Return you back! No need is\nthere for you to go further, for the folk of this island are not\nwell-believers in God. I may not pass through the land but by\ntruce only. The Queen of this land was sister of the King of\nOriande, that Lancelot killed in the battle and all his folk, and\nseized his land, wherein all the folk were misbelievers. Now\nthroughout all the land they believe in the Saviour of the World.\nThereof is she passing sorrowful, and hateth all them that\nbelieve in the New Law, insomuch as that she would not look upon\nany that believed, and prayed to her gods that never might she\nsee none until such time as the New Law should be overthrown; and\nGod, that hath power to do this, blinded her forthwith. Now she\nsupposeth that the false gods wherein she believeth have done\nthis, and saith that when the New Law shall fall, she will have\nher sight again by the renewal of these gods, and by their\nvirtue, nor, until this hour, hath she no desire to see. And I\ntell you this,\" saith the knight, \"because I would not that you\nshould go thither as yet, for that I misdoubt of your being\ntroubled thereby.\"\n\n\"Sir, Gramercy,\" saith Perceval, \"But no knighthood is there so\nfair as that which is undertaken to set forward the Law of God,\nand for Him ought one to make better endeavour than for all\nother. In like manner as He put His body in pain and travail for\nus, so ought each to put his own for Him.\"\n\nHe departeth from the knight, and was right joyous of this that\nhe heard him say that Lancelot had won a kingdom wherein he had\ndone away the false Law. But and he knew the tidings that the\nKing had put him in prison, he would not have been glad at all,\nfor Lancelot was of his lineage and was therefore good knight,\nand for this he loved him right well.\n\nXVIII.\n\nPerceval rideth until nightfall, and findeth a great castle\nfortified with a great drawbridge, and there were tall ancient\ntowers within. He espied at the door a squire that had the\nweight of a chain on his neck, and at the other end the chain was\nfixed to a great bulk of iron. The chain was as long as the\nlength of the bridge. Then cometh he over against Perceval when\nhe seeth him coming.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"Meseemeth you believe in God?\"\n\n\"Fair friend, so do I, the best I may.\"\n\n\"Sir, for God's sake, enter not this castle!\"\n\n\"Wherefore, fair friend?\" saith Perceval.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"I will tell you. I am Christian, even as are\nyou, and I am thrall within there and guard this gate, as you\nsee. But it is the most cruel castle that I know, and it is\ncalled the Raving Castle. There be three knights within there,\nfull young and comely, but so soon as they see a knight of the\nNew Law, forthwith are they out of their senses, and all raving\nmad, so that nought may endure between them. Moreover, there is\nwithin one of the fairest damsels that saw I ever. She guardeth\nthe knights so soon as they begin to rave, and so much they dread\nher that they durst not disobey her commandment in aught that she\nwilleth, for many folk would they evilly entreat were it not for\nher. And for that I am their thrall they put up with me, and I\nhave no fear of them, but many is the Christian knight that hath\ncome in hither that never hath issued hence.\"\n\n\"Fair sweet friend,\" saith Perceval, \"I will enter in thither and\nI may, for I should not know this day how to go elsewhither, and\ntrue it is that greater power hath God than the devil.\"\n\nHe entereth into the castle and alighteth in the midst of the\ncourtyard.\n\nXIX.\n\nThe damsel was at the windows of the hall, that was of passing\ngreat beauty. She cometh down as soon as she may, and seeth\nPerceval come in and the cross on his shield, and knoweth well\nthereby that he is Christian.\n\n\"Ha, Sir, for God's sake,\" saith she, \"Come not up above, for\nthere be three of the comeliest knights that ever were seen that\nare playing at tables and at dice in a chamber, and they are\nbrothers-german. They will all go out of their senses so soon as\nthey shall see you!\"\n\nXX.\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith Perceval, \"Please God, so shall they not, and\nsuch a miracle is good to see, for it is only right that all they\nwho will not believe in God should be raving mad when they see\nthe things that come of Him.\"\n\nPerceval goeth up into the hall, all armed, for all that the\ndamsel saith. She followeth him as fast as she may. The three\nknights espied Perceval all armed and the cross on his shield,\nand forthwith leapt up and were beside themselves. They rolled\ntheir eyes and tore themselves and roared like devils. There\nwere axes and swords in the hall that they go to lay hold on, and\nthey are fain to leap upon Perceval, but no power have they to do\nso, for such was the will of God. When they saw that they might\nnot come a-nigh him, they ran either on other and so slew\nthemselves between them, nor would they stint their fighting\ntogether for the damsel. Perceval beheld the miracle of these\nfolks that were thus killed, and the damsel that made right great\ndole thereof.\n\n\"Ha, damsel,\" saith he, \"Weep not, but repent you of this false\nbelief, for they that are unwilling to believe in God shall die\nlike mad folks and devils!\"\n\nPerceval made the squires that were there within bear the bodies\nout of the hall, and made them be cast into a running water, and\nstraightway slew all the other, for that they were not minded to\nbelieve. The castle was all emptied of the misbelieving folk\nsave only the damsel and those that waited upon her, and the\nChristian thrall that guarded the gate. Perceval set him forth\nof the chain, then led him up into the hall and made him disarm\nhim. He found sundry right rich robes. The damsel, that was of\nright great beauty, looked at him and saw that he was a full\ncomely knight, and well pleased she was with him. She honoured\nhim in right great sort, but she might not forget the three\nknights that were her brothers, and made sore dole for them.\n\nXXI.\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith Perceval, \"Nought availeth it to make this dole,\nbut take comfort on some other manner.\"\n\nPerceval looked at the hall from one end to the other and saw\nthat it was right rich, and the damsel, in whom was full great\nbeauty, stinted of making dole to look at Perceval. She seeth\nthat he is comely knight and gentle and tall and well furnished\nof good conditions, wherefore he pleaseth her much, and forthwith\nbeginneth she to love him, and saith to herself that, so he would\nleave his God for the god in whom she believed, right glad would\nshe be thereof, and would make him lord of her castle, for it\nseemed her that better might she not bestow it, and sith that her\nbrothers are dead, there may be no bringing of them back, and\ntherefore better would it be to forget her dole. But little knew\nshe Perceval's thought, for had she known that which he thinketh,\nshe would have imagined not this; for, and had she been Christian\nhe might not have been drawn to love her in such sort as she\nthinketh, sith that Josephus telleth us that never did he lose\nhis virginity for woman, but rather died virgin and chaste and\nclean of his body. In this mind was she still, nor never might\nshe refrain her heart from him. Thinketh she rather that, and he\nknew she was minded to love him, right joyous would he be\nthereof, for that she is of so passing beauty. Perceval asketh\nthe damsel what she hath in her thought?\n\n\" Sir,\" saith she, \"Nought think I but only good and you will.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith Perceval, \"Never, please God, shall there be\nhindrance of me but that you renounce this evil Law and believe\nin the good.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she, \"Do you renounce yours for love of me, and I\nwill do your commandment and your will.\"\n\nXXII.\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith Perceval, \"Nought availeth to tell me this. Were\nyou man like as you are woman, your end would have come with the\nothers. But, please God, your tribulation shall tend itself to\ngood.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she, \"So you are willing to promise me that you will\nlove me like as knight ought to love damsel, I am well inclined\nto believe in your God.\"\n\n\"Damsel, I promise you as I am a Christian that so you are\nwilling to receive baptism, I will love you as he that firmly\nbelieveth in God ought to love damsel.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith she, \"I ask no more of you.\"\n\nShe biddeth send for a holy man, a hermit that was in the forest\nappurtenant, and right gladly came he when he heard the tidings.\nThey held her up and baptized her, both her and her damsels with\nher. Perceval held her at the font. Josephus witnesseth us in\nthis history that she had for name Celestre. And great joy made\nshe of her baptism, and her affections turned she unto good. The\nhermit remained there with her, and taught her to understand the\nfirm believe, and did the service of Our Lord. The damsel was of\nright good life and right holy, and ended thereafter in many good\nworks.\n\nXXIII.\n\nPerceval departed from the castle, and gave thanks to Our Lord\nand praise, that He hath allowed him to conquer a castle so cruel\nand to attorn it to the Law. He went his way a great pace, all\narmed, until he came into a country wherein was great grief being\nmade, and the more part said that he was come that should destroy\ntheir Law, for that already had he won their strongest castle.\nHe is come towards an ancient castle that was at the head of a\nforest. He looketh and seeth at the entrance of the gateway a\nfull great throng of folk. He seeth a squire come forth thence,\nand asketh him unto whom belongeth the castle.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"It is Queen Jandree's, that hath made her be\nbrought before her gate with the folk you see yonder, for she\nhath heard tell how the knights of the Raving Castle are dead,\nand another knight that hath conquered the castle hath made the\ndamsel be baptized, wherefore much she marvelleth how this may\nbe. She is in much dread of losing her land, for her brother\nMadeglant of Oriande is dead, so that she may no longer look to\nnone for succour, and she hath been told how the knight that\nconquered the Raving Castle is the Best Knight of the World, and\nthat none may endure against him. For this doubtance and fear of\nhim she is minded to go to one of her own castles that is\nsomewhat stronger.\"\n\nPerceval departeth from the squire and rideth until they that\nwere at the entrance of the gateway espied him. They saw the Red\nCross that he bare on his shield, and said to the Queen, \"Lady, a\nChristian knight is coming into this castle.\"\n\n\"Take heed,\" saith she, \"that it be not he that is about to\noverthrow our Law!\"\n\nPerceval cometh thither and alighteth, and cometh before the\nQueen all armed. The Queen asketh what he seeketh.\n\nXXIV.\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"Nought seek I save good only to yourself so\nyou hinder it not.\"\n\n\"You come,\" saith she, \"from the Raving Castle, there where three\nbrothers are slain, whereof is great loss.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" saith he, \"At that castle was I, and now fain would I\nthat your own were at the will of Jesus Christ, in like manner as\nis that.\"\n\n\"By my head,\" saith she, \"And your Lord hath so great power as is\nsaid, so will it be.\"\n\n\"Lady, His virtue and His puissance are far greater than they\nsay.\"\n\n\"That would I fain know,\" saith she, \"presently, and I am fain to\npray you that you depart not from me until that it hath been\nproven.\"\n\nPerceval granteth it gladly. She returned into her castle and\nPerceval with her. When he was alighted he went up into the\nhall. They that were within marvelled them much that she should\nthus give consent, for never, sithence that she had been blind,\nmight she allow no knight of the New Law to be so nigh her, and\nmade slay all them that came into her power, nor might she never\nsee clear so long as she had one of them before her. Now is her\ndisposition altered in such sort as that she would fain she might\nsee clear him that hath come in, for she hath been told that he\nis the comeliest knight of the world and well seemeth to be as\ngood as they witness of him.\n\nXXV.\n\nPerceval remained there gladly for that he saw the lady's cruelty\nwas somewhat slackened, and it seemed him that it would be great\njoy and she were willing to turn to God, and they that are within\nthere, for well he knoweth that so she should hold to the New\nLaw, all they of the land would be of the same mind. When\nPerceval had lain the night at the castle, the Lady on the morrow\nsent for all the more powerful of her land, and came forth of her\nchamber into the hall where Perceval was, seeing as clear as ever\nshe had seen aforetime.\n\n\"Lords,\" saith she, \"Hearken ye all, for now will I tell you the\ntruth like as it hath befallen me. I was lying in my bed last\nnight, and well know ye that I saw not a whit, and made my\norisons to our gods that they would restore me my sight. It\nseemed me they made answer that they had no power so to do, but\nthat I should make be slain the knight that was arrived here, and\nthat and I did not, sore wroth would they be with me. And when I\nhad heard their voices say that nought might they avail me as for\nthat I had prayed of them, I remembered me of the Lord in whom\nthey that hold the New Law believe. And I prayed Him right\nsweetly that, and so it were that He had such virtue and such\npuissance as many said, He would make me see clear, so as that I\nmight believe in Him. At that hour I fell on sleep, and meseemed\nthat I saw one of the fairest Ladies in the world, and she was\ndelivered of a Child therewithin, and He had about Him a great\nbrightness of light like it were the sun shone at right noonday.\"\n\nXXVI.\n\n\"When the Child was born, so passing fair was He and so passing\ngentle and of so sweet semblant that the looks of Him pleased me\nwell; and meseemed that at His deliverance there was a company\nof folk the fairest that were seen ever, and they were like as it\nhad been birds and made full great joy. And methought that an\nancient man that was with Her, told me that My Lady had lost no\nwhit of her maidenhood for the Child. Well pleased was I the\nwhile this thing lasted me. It seemed me that I saw it like as I\ndo you. Thereafter, methought I saw a Man bound to a stake, in\nwhom was great sweetness and humility, and an evil folk beat Him\nwith scourges and rods right cruelly, so that the blood ran down\nthereof. They would have no mercy on Him. Of this might I not\nhold myself but that I wept for pity of Him. Therewithal I awoke\nand marvelled much whence it should come and what it might be.\nBut in anyway it pleased me much that I had seen it. It seemed\nme after this, that I saw the same Man that had been bound to the\nstake set upon a cross, and nailed thereon right grievously and\nsmitten in the side with a spear, whereof had I such great pity\nthat needs must I weep of the sore pain that I saw Him suffer. I\nsaw the Lady at the feet of the cross, and knew her again that I\nhad seen delivered of the Child, but none might set in writing\nthe great dole that she made. On the other side of the cross was\na man that seemed not joyful, but he recomforted the Lady the\nfairest he might. And another folk were there that collected His\nblood in a most holy Vessel that one of them held for it.\"\n\nXXVII.\n\n\"Afterward, methought I saw Him taken down of hanging on the\ncross, and set in a sepulchre of stone. Thereof had I great pity\nfor, so long as meseemed I saw Him thus never might I withhold\nme from weeping. And so soon as the pity came into my heart, and\nthe tears into my eyes, I had my sight even as you see. In such\na Lord as this ought one to believe, for He suffered death when\nHe might lightly have avoided it had He so willed, but He did it\nto save His people. In this Lord I will that ye all believe, and\nso renounce our false gods, for they be devils and therefore may\nnot aid us nor avail us. And he that will not believe, him will\nI make be slain or die a shameful death.\"\n\nThe Lady made her be held up and baptized, and all them that\nwould not do the same she made be destroyed and banished. This\nhistory telleth us that her name was Salubre. She was good lady\nand well believed in God, and so holy life led she thereafter\nthat in a hermitage she died. Perceval departed from the castle\nright joyous in his heart of the Lady and her people that\nbelieved in the New Law.",
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