"Even thus will I cut off their heads when they shall set them into those three openings thinking to adore the hallows that are beyond.

Afterward will I make take the bodies and set them in the three coffins, and do them be honoured and enshrouded right richly, for joy of them in their life may I never have. And when the end of my life shall be come as G.o.d will, even so will I make set me in the fourth coffin, and so shall I have company of the three good knights."

Messire Gawain heard the word, whereof he marvelled right sore, and would right fain that the night were overpa.s.sed. They issue forth of the chapel. The damsel maketh Messire Gawain be greatly honoured that night, and there was great company of knights within that served him and helped guard the castle. They show Messire Gawain much worship, but they knew not that it was he, nor did none ask him, for such was the custom of the castle. But well she knew that he oftentimes pa.s.sed to and fro amidst the forest, and four of the knights that watched the forest and the pa.s.sers-by had she commanded that and if any of these three knights should pa.s.s they should bring him to her without gainsay, and she would increase the land of each for so doing.

VIII.

Messire Gawain was in the castle that night until the morrow, and went to hear ma.s.s in the chapel or ever he removed thence. Afterward, when he had heard ma.s.s and was armed, he took leave of the damsel and issued forth of the castle as he that had no desire to abide there longer.

And he entereth into the forest and rideth a long league Welsh and findeth two knights sitting by a narrow path in the forest. And when they see him coming they leap up on their horses all armed and come against Messire Gawain, shields on sides and spears in fists.

"Bide, Sir knight!" say they, "And tell us your name without leasing!"

"Lords," saith he, "Right willingly! never hath my name been withholden when it hath been asked for. I am called Gawain, King Arthur's nephew."

"Nay, then, Sir, welcome may you be! One other demand have we to make of you. Will you come with us to the lady in the world who most desireth you, and will make much joy of you at Castle Orguelleux where she is?"

"Lord," saith Messire Gawain, "No leisure have I at this time, for I have emprised my way else-whither."

"Sir," say they, "Needs must you come thither without fail, for in such wise hath she commanded us that we shall take you thither by force an you come not of your own good-will."

"I have told you plainly that thither will I not go," saith Messire Gawain. With that, they leap forward and take him by the bridle, thinking to lead him away by force. And Messire Gawain hath shame thereof, and draweth his sword and smiteth one of them in such wrath that he cutteth off his arm. And the other letteth the bridle go and turneth him full speed; and his fellow with him that was maimed. And away go they toward Castle Orguelleux and the Proud Maiden of the castle and show her the mischief that hath befallen them.

"Who hath mis-handled you thus?" saith she.

"Certes, lady, Messire Gawain."

"Where found you him?"

"Lady," say they, "In the forest, where he came toward us a full gallop, and was minded to pa.s.s by the narrows of the way, when we bade him abide and come to you. But come he would not. We offered him force, and he smote my fellow's arm off."

She biddeth a horn be sounded incontinent, and the knights of the castle arm, and she commandeth them follow Messire Gawain, and saith that she will increase the land and the charge of him that shall bring him to her. They were a good fifteen knights armed. Just as they were about to issue out of the castle, behold you forthwith two keepers of the forest where they come, both twain of them smitten through the body. The damsel and the knights ask who hath done this to them, and they say it was Messire Gawain that did it, for that they would have brought him to the castle.

"Is he far away?" saith the damsel.

"Yea," say they, "Four great leagues Welsh."

"Wherefore the greater folly would it be to follow him," saith one of the sixteen knights, "For nought should we increase thereby save only our own shame and hurt, and my Lady hath lost him through her own default, for well know we that he it was that lay within, for that he beareth a shield sinople with a golden eagle."

"Yea," saith the wounded knight, "Without fail."

"Is this then he?" saith the damsel. "I know him well now that I have lost him by my pride and by my outrage; nor never more will knight lie in my hostel sith that he will be estranged for that I ask not his name. But it is too late! Herein have I failed of this one for ever and ever save G.o.d bring him back to me, and through this one shall I lose the other two!"

IX.

Herewithal cometh to a stay the pursuit of Messire Gawain, that goeth his way and prayeth G.o.d that He send him true counsel of that he hath emprised, and that He allow him to come into some place where he may hear true witting of the hostel of King Fisherman. And while he was thus thinking, he heareth a brachet questing, and he cometh toward him a great pace. When he is come anigh Messire Gawain he setteth his nose to the ground and findeth a track of blood through a gra.s.sy way in the forest, and when Messire Gawain was minded to leave the way where the track of blood was, the brachet came over against him and quested.

Messire Gawain is minded not to abandon the track, wherefore he followeth the brachet a great pace until he cometh to a marish in the midst of the forest, and seeth there in the marish a house, ancient and decayed. He pa.s.seth with the brachet over the bridge, that was right feeble, and there was a great water under it, and cometh to the hall, that was wasted and old. And the brachet leaveth of his questing.

Messire Gawain seeth in the midst of house a knight that was stricken right through the breast unto the heart and there lay dead. A damsel was issuing forth of the chamber and bare the winding-sheet wherein to enshroud him.

"Damsel," saith Messire Gawain, "Good adventure may you have!"

The damsel that was weeping right tenderly, saith to him: "Sir, I will answer you not."

She cometh toward the dead knight, thinking that his wounds should have begun to bleed afresh, but they did not.

"Sir," saith she to Messire Gawain, "Welcome may you be!"

"Damsel," saith he. "G.o.d grant you greater joy than you have!"

And the damsel saith to the brachet: "It was not this one I sent you back to fetch, but him that slew this knight."

"Know you then, damsel, who hath slain him?" saith Messire Gawain.

"Yea," saith she, "well! Lancelot of the Lake slew him in this forest, on whom G.o.d grant me vengeance, and on all them of King Arthur's court, for sore mischief and great hurt have they wrought us! But, please G.o.d, right well shall this knight yet be avenged, for a right fair son hath he whose sister am I, and so hath he many good friends withal."

"Damsel, to G.o.d I commend you!" saith Messire Gawain. With that, he issueth forth of the Waste Manor and betaketh him back to the way he had abandoned, and prayeth G.o.d grant he may find Lancelot of the Lake.

BRANCH V.

INCIPIT.

Here beginneth again another branch of the Graal in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

t.i.tLE I.

Messire Gawain goeth his way and evening draweth on; and on his right hand was there a narrow pathway that seemed him to be haunted of folk.

Thitherward goeth he, for that he seeth the sun waxeth low, and findeth in the thick of the forest a great chapel, and without was a right fair manor. Before the chapel was an orchard enclosed of a wooden fence that was scarce so high as a tall man. A hermit that seemed him a right worshipful man was leaning against the fence, and looked into the orchard and made great cheer from time to time. He seeth Messire Gawain, and cometh to meet him, and Messire Gawain alighteth.

"Sir," saith the hermit, "Welcome may you be."

"G.o.d grant you the joy of Paradise," saith Messire Gawain. The hermit maketh his horse be stabled of a squire, and then taketh him by the hand and maketh him sit beside him to look on the orchard.

"Sir," saith the hermit, "Now may you see that whereof I was making cheer."

Messire Gawain looketh therewithin and seeth two damsels and a squire and a child that were guarding a lion.

"Sir," saith the hermit, "Here see my joy, which is this child. Saw you ever so fair a child his age?"

"Never," saith Messire Gawain. They go into the orchard to sit, for the evening was fair and calm. He maketh disarm him, and thereupon the damsel bringeth him a surcoat of right rich silk furred of ermine. And Messire Gawain looketh at the child that rode upon the lion right fainly.

"Sir," saith the hermit, "None durst guard him or be master over him save this child only, and yet the lad is not more than six years of age. Sir, he is of right n.o.ble lineage, albeit he is the son of the most cruel man and most felon that is. Marin the Jealous is his father, that slew his wife on account of Messire Gawain. Never sithence that his mother was dead would not the lad be with his father, for well knoweth he that he slew her of wrong. And I am his uncle, so I make him be tended here of these damsels and these two squires, but no one thing is there that he so much desireth to see as Messire Gawain. For after his father's death ought he of right to be Messire Gawain's man. Sir, if any tidings you know of him, tell us them."

"By my faith, Sir," saith he, "Tidings true can I give you. Lo, there is his shield and his spear, and himself shall you have this night for guest."

"Fair sir, are you he?" saith the hermit.