Wept, and the King himself could hardly speak
For grief, and all in middle street the Queen,
Who rode by Lancelot, wailed and shrieked aloud,
"This
madness has come on us for our sins."
So to the Gate of the three Queens we came,
Where Arthur's wars are rendered mystically,
And
thencedeparted every one his way.
'And I was lifted up in heart, and thought
Of all my late-shown
prowess in the lists,
How my strong lance had
beaten down the knights,
So many and famous names; and never yet
Had heaven appeared so blue, nor earth so green,
For all my blood danced in me, and I knew
That I should light upon the Holy Grail.
'Thereafter, the dark
warning of our King,
That most of us would follow wandering fires,
Came like a driving gloom across my mind.
Then every evil word I had
spoken once,
And every evil thought I had thought of old,
And every evil deed I ever did,
Awoke and cried, "This Quest is not for thee."
And lifting up mine eyes, I found myself
Alone, and in a land of sand and thorns,
And I was thirsty even unto death;
And I, too, cried, "This Quest is not for thee."
'And on I rode, and when I thought my thirst
Would slay me, saw deep lawns, and then a brook,
With one sharp rapid, where the crisping white
Played ever back upon the sloping wave,
And took both ear and eye; and o'er the brook
Were apple-trees, and apples by the brook
Fallen, and on the lawns. "I will rest here,"
I said, "I am not
worthy of the Quest;"
But even while I drank the brook, and ate
The
goodly apples, all these things at once
Fell into dust, and I was left alone,
And thirsting, in a land of sand and thorns.
'And then behold a woman at a door
Spinning; and fair the house
whereby she sat,
And kind the woman's eyes and innocent,
And all her
bearinggracious; and she rose
Opening her arms to meet me, as who should say,
"Rest here;" but when I touched her, lo! she, too,
Fell into dust and nothing, and the house
Became no better than a broken shed,
And in it a dead babe; and also this
Fell into dust, and I was left alone.
'And on I rode, and greater was my thirst.
Then flashed a yellow gleam across the world,
And where it smote the plowshare in the field,
The plowman left his plowing, and fell down
Before it; where it glittered on her pail,
The
milkmaid left her milking, and fell down
Before it, and I knew not why, but thought
"The sun is rising," though the sun had risen.
Then was I ware of one that on me moved
In golden
armour with a crown of gold
About a casque all jewels; and his horse
In golden
armour jewelled everywhere:
And on the splendour came, flashing me blind;
And seemed to me the Lord of all the world,
Being so huge. But when I thought he meant
To crush me, moving on me, lo! he, too,
Opened his arms to
embrace me as he came,
And up I went and touched him, and he, too,
Fell into dust, and I was left alone
And wearying in a land of sand and thorns.
'And I rode on and found a
mighty hill,
And on the top, a city walled: the spires
Pricked with
incredible pinnacles into heaven.
And by the
gateway stirred a crowd; and these
Cried to me climbing, "Welcome, Percivale!
Thou mightiest and thou purest among men!"
And glad was I and clomb, but found at top
No man, nor any voice. And
thence I past
Far through a ruinous city, and I saw
That man had once dwelt there; but there I found
Only one man of an
exceeding age.
"Where is that
goodly company," said I,
"That so cried out upon me?" and he had
Scarce any voice to answer, and yet gasped,
"Whence and what art thou?" and even as he spoke
Fell into dust, and disappeared, and I
Was left alone once more, and cried in grief,
"Lo, if I find the Holy Grail itself
And touch it, it will
crumble into dust."
'And
thence I dropt into a lowly vale,
Low as the hill was high, and where the vale
Was lowest, found a
chapel, and thereby
A holy
hermit in a
hermitage,
To whom I told my
phantoms, and he said:
'"O son, thou hast not true humility,
The highest
virtue, mother of them all;
For when the Lord of all things made Himself
Naked of glory for His
mortal change,
'Take thou my robe,' she said, 'for all is thine,'
And all her form shone forth with sudden light
So that the angels were amazed, and she
Followed Him down, and like a flying star
Led on the gray-haired
wisdom of the east;
But her thou hast not known: for what is this
Thou thoughtest of thy
prowess and thy sins?
Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself
As Galahad." When the
hermit made an end,
In silver
armour suddenly Galahad shone
Before us, and against the
chapel door
Laid lance, and entered, and we knelt in prayer.
And there the
hermit slaked my burning thirst,
And at the sacring of the mass I saw
The holy elements alone; but he,
"Saw ye no more? I, Galahad, saw the Grail,
The Holy Grail,
descend upon the shrine:
I saw the fiery face as of a child
That smote itself into the bread, and went;
And
hither am I come; and never yet
Hath what thy sister taught me first to see,
This Holy Thing, failed from my side, nor come
Covered, but moving with me night and day,
Fainter by day, but always in the night
Blood-red, and sliding down the blackened marsh
Blood-red, and on the naked mountain top
Blood-red, and in the
sleeping mere below
Blood-red. And in the strength of this I rode,
Shattering all evil customs everywhere,
And past through Pagan realms, and made them mine,
And clashed with Pagan hordes, and bore them down,
And broke through all, and in the strength of this
Come
victor. But my time is hard at hand,
And hence I go; and one will crown me king
Far in the
spiritual city; and come thou, too,
For thou shalt see the
vision when I go."
'While thus he spake, his eye,
dwelling on mine,
Drew me, with power upon me, till I grew
One with him, to believe as he believed.
Then, when the day began to wane, we went.
'There rose a hill that none but man could climb,
Scarred with a hundred
wintry water-courses--
Storm at the top, and when we gained it, storm
Round us and death; for every moment glanced
His silver arms and gloomed: so quick and thick
The lightnings here and there to left and right
Struck, till the dry old trunks about us, dead,
Yea,
rotten with a hundred years of death,
Sprang into fire: and at the base we found
On either hand, as far as eye could see,
A great black swamp and of an evil smell,
Part black, part whitened with the bones of men,
Not to be crost, save that some ancient king
Had built a way, where, linked with many a
bridge,
A thousand piers ran into the great Sea.
And Galahad fled along them
bridge by
bridge,
And every
bridge as quickly as he crost
Sprang into fire and vanished, though I yearned
To follow; and
thrice above him all the heavens
Opened and blazed with
thunder such as seemed
Shoutings of all the sons of God: and first
At once I saw him far on the great Sea,
In silver-shining
armour starry-clear;
And o'er his head the Holy Vessel hung
Clothed in white samite or a
luminous cloud.
And with
exceedingswiftness ran the boat,
If boat it were--I saw not
whence it came.
And when the heavens opened and blazed again
Roaring, I saw him like a silver star--
And had he set the sail, or had the boat
Become a living creature clad with wings?
And o'er his head the Holy Vessel hung
Redder than any rose, a joy to me,
For now I knew the veil had been withdrawn.
Then in a moment when they blazed again
Opening, I saw the least of little stars
Down on the waste, and straight beyond the star
I saw the
spiritual city and all her spires
And
gateways in a glory like one pearl--
No larger, though the goal of all the saints--
Strike from the sea; and from the star there shot
A rose-red
sparkle to the city, and there
Dwelt, and I knew it was the Holy Grail,
Which never eyes on earth again shall see.
Then fell the floods of heaven drowning the deep.
And how my feet recrost the deathful ridge
No memory in me lives; but that I touched
The
chapel-doors at dawn I know; and
thenceTaking my war-horse from the holy man,
Glad that no
phantom vext me more, returned
To
whence I came, the gate of Arthur's wars.'
'O brother,' asked Ambrosius,--'for in sooth
These ancient books--and they would win thee--teem,
Only I find not there this Holy Grail,
With miracles and marvels like to these,
Not all
unlike; which oftentime I read,
Who read but on my breviary with ease,
Till my head swims; and then go forth and pass
Down to the little thorpe that lies so close,
And almost plastered like a martin's nest
To these old walls--and
mingle with our folk;
And
knowing every honest face of theirs
As well as ever
shepherd knew his sheep,
And every
homely secret in their hearts,
Delight myself with
gossip and old wives,
And ills and aches, and teethings, lyings-in,