/>
of Camelot, where was weeping of rich and poor, and the king turned away

and could not speak for grief, while Queen Guenever hid herself in her

chamber, to be alone with her bitter sorrow at the going of Lancelot.



Onward they rode in company until they came to a castle and town that

were named Vagon. There they stopped and were well entertained by the

lord of the castle, who was a man of great hospitality. But when morning

came it was decided between them that they should separate, each taking

his own course, so that the Sangreal might be sought in all quarters.

This they did with much sorrow and many fervent farewells, each knight

taking the way that he liked the best, and riding alone and afar on his

perilous quest.



First must we follow the young knight Galahad, who still rode without a

shield, and who passed onward for four days without an adventure. Near

eventide of the fourth day he came to a white abbey, where he was

received with great respect, and led to a chamber that he might lay off

his armor. And here, to his surprise, he met with two of the goodly

company from which he had lately parted, Sir Uwaine and King Bagdemagus.



"Sirs," said Galahad, "what adventure brought you hither?"



"We are told," they replied, "that within this place is a shield of

perilous significance. For he who bears it about his neck runs deep risk

of being slain within three days, or maimed forever. Yet," said

Bagdemagus, "I shall bear it to-morrow and try my fortune."



"In the name of God, try it," said Galahad. "Yet truly you take a great

risk."



"If I fail therein, you shall take the adventure. I am sure you will not

fail."



"I agree to that," said Galahad. "I have ridden far enough without a

shield."



Then they went to supper, and afterwards to sleep. When morning came

Bagdemagus asked of the abbot where the magic shield was, and a monk led

him behind an altar where hung a shield as white as snow, but with a red

cross in its centre.



"I hope you are well advised of what you do," said the monk. "No knight,

unless he be the worthiest in the world, can safely bear this shield."



"I know well that I am not the best of knights," said Bagdemagus; "and

yet I shall wear it and dare the danger."



Then he took it out of the monastery, and said to Galahad,--



"If it please you, await me here till you learn how I shall speed."



"I shall await tidings," said Galahad.



Bagdemagus now rode forward with a squire, that he might send back

tidings of his good or ill fortune, and passed onward for two miles,

when he found himself in a valley before a hermitage. Here he saw a

stalwart knight in white armor, horse and all, who, in seeing the

red-cross shield, rode upon him at the full speed of his charger.

Bagdemagus put his spear in rest and rode to meet him, but his spear

broke on the white knight, while he was wounded in the right shoulder

and borne from his horse, the treacherous shield refusing to cover him.

Then the victor knight alighted and took the white shield from him,

saying,--



"Sir knight, you have acted with more folly than wisdom, for you should

have known that only he who has no peer living can safely bear this

shield."



Then he went to the squire who had come with King Bagdemagus, and

said,--



"Bear this shield to the good knight Sir Galahad, whom you left in the

abbey, and greet him from me."



"What shall I tell him is your name?"



"Take no heed of my name. That is not for you to know, nor for any

earthly man. Content yourself with telling Sir Galahad that this shield

is for him, and for no other man to wear. And may God aid him to bear it

worthily and worshipfully."



But the squire went first to Bagdemagus and asked him if he were

seriously wounded.



"Forsooth, I am," he said. "I shall scarce escape from death."



The squire then conveyed him in great pain to the hermitage, and left

him in care of the hermit. And as the chronicle tells, he lay there

long, and barely escaped with life.




copyright 1896 by Curtis and Cameron.



OATH OF KNIGHTHOOD.]



"Sir Galahad," said the squire, when he had returned to the abbey, "King

Bagdemagus has paid dearly for his venture. He lies at a hermitage

sorely wounded. As for you, the knight that overthrew him sends you

greeting, and bids you to bear this shield, through which marvellous

adventures shall come to you."



"Then blessed be God and fortune," said Galahad.



He now resumed his arms and mounted his horse, hanging the white shield

about his neck and commending himself to God. Uwaine offered to bear him

company, but this was not to be.



"Sir knight," said Galahad, "I thank you for your offer, but I must go

alone, save that this squire shall bear me fellowship."



With these words the youthful knight rode away, and soon came to where

the white knight abode by the hermitage. They saluted each other

courteously, and fell into a conversation in which the white knight told

Galahad the story of the magical shield.



"In the far past time," he said, "soon after Joseph of Arimathea took

down the body of our Lord from the holy cross, and bore it from

Jerusalem to a city named Sarras, there was a king of Sarras named

Evelake, who was then at war with the Saracens. This king, through the

teachings of Joseph, was converted from the old law to the new, and for

him this shield was made, in the name of Him who died on the cross.

Afterwards, when Evelake was in battle, the shield was covered with a

cloth, which was only removed in times of deadly peril, and then his

enemies saw the figure of a man on the cross, before which they fell

back discomfited. At times the cross of the shield would vanish away,

and at times stand out clear and bright; and such was its virtue that a

soldier whose hand was stricken off was made whole again by touching

the cross. The time came at length when Joseph left Palestine and

journeyed westward, and King Evelake with him, till they came to Great

Britain, where all the people had been pagans, but were then converted



to the Christian faith. Soon afterwards Joseph sickened and came near to

death, and while he lay in his bed he bade Evelake bring him the shield,

and on it he traced a red cross with his own blood. Then he said to

Evelake, 'No man hereafter shall bear this shield but he shall repent

it, until Galahad, the last of my lineage, shall come to seek it, and

with it he shall do marvellous deeds.' 'Where shall the shield await his

coming?' asked Evelake. 'You shall leave it in the abbey where Nancien

the hermit shall lie after his death, and thither the knight Galahad

shall come for it soon after he receives the order of knighthood.' This

is the story of the shield, and this day has the prediction been

fulfilled. Wear the shield worthily and well, young knight, for much

glory and renown shall come to you through it. You are in God's hands;

to God commend yourself."



With these words the white knight vanished away, and in the place where

he had stood was seen but empty air.



Then the squire, who had heard these words, alighted and kneeled at

Galahad's feet, praying that he would make him a knight.



"That I shall consider," said Galahad. "But now let us return to the

abbey."



Here Galahad drove away a fiend that had long dwelt in a tomb near by,

where it made such noise that none could venture near it. But the

virtue of the shield protected him from all harm from this evil shape,

which was forced to depart.



When morning came, he asked the young squire his name.



"Sir," he answered, "men call me Melias de Lile, and I am the son of the

king of Denmark."



"Then, fair sir, since you come of kings and queens, I shall make you a

knight; and look you that knighthood sit well on you, for you should be

a mirror of chivalry."



"That shall I seek to be," said Melias.



Then Galahad gave him the accolade as he kneeled before him, and bade

him rise a knight.



"Now, dear sir," said Melias, "since you have done me this high honor,

it is but right that you grant me my first request, so that it be in

reason."



"You speak justly," said Galahad.



"I beg, then, that you let me ride with you in the quest of the Sangreal

till some adventure shall part us."



"That I grant willingly."



Armor was now brought to Melias, and when it had been girded upon him he

and Galahad rode away, and passed onward all that week without an

adventure. But on the Monday next, as they set out from an abbey, they

came to where a cross marked a parting of the road. On the cross was

written,--



"Ye knights-errant, that ride in quest of adventures, here lie two ways.

He that takes the right-hand road shall not leave it again, if he be a

good man and a worthy knight. He that takes the left-hand shall not

lightly win fortune, for his strength and endurance will be soon tried."



"If you will suffer me to take the left-hand road I should like it

greatly," said Melias. "My strength and skill need trial."



"It were better not. I fancy that I only should face the danger that

there confronts us."



"Nay, my lord, I pray you let me have this adventure."



"Take it, then, in God's name," said Galahad; "and do your duty

worthily."



So Melias rode forward and soon found himself in a forest, through which

he passed for two days, seeing there neither man, woman, nor child. Then

he came from the forest into a broad meadow, where stood a lodge built

of green boughs. And in that lodge was a chair, on which lay a crown of

gold wrought with rich and subtle skill. Also there were cloths spread

upon the earth, upon which delicious meats were laid.



Melias beheld all this and thought it marvellous. He felt no hunger, but

the crown of gold roused his covetousness, and he took it up and rode

away with it. But not far had he ridden when a knight came after him,

who said,--



"Sir knight, why have you taken that crown? It is not yours; therefore

defend yourself."



Then Melias blessed himself, and said,--



"Fair Lord of Heaven, help and save thy new made knight."



Then they rode together at full speed, but Melias's prayer availed him

naught, for the spear-head of the other went through his hauberk, and

wounded him so deeply in the left side that he fell to the earth like a

dead man. Then the victor knight took the crown and rode away.



But with wise forethought Galahad had followed Melias, and now rode into

the valley, where he found him in peril of death.



"Ah, Melias!" he cried, "better for you had you taken the other way. Who

has done you this harm?"



"For God's love, let me not die in this place!" said Melias in reply.

"Bear me to some abbey near by, where I may be confessed and have the

rites of the church."



"It shall be done," said Galahad. "But where is he who has wounded you?"



The reply came from the edge of the forest, where Galahad heard a voice

cry in stirring tones,--



"Knight, defend yourself from me."



"Beware, sir," warned Melias. "He it is that has left me thus."



"Sir knight," said Galahad, "come on at your peril."



Then they rode together as fast as their horses could run, and Galahad

drove his spear through the shoulder of his opponent, hurling him from

his horse. But in his fall the spear broke. Then, before the young

knight could turn, another knight rode from under the leaves and broke

his spear upon him.



At this treacherous act Galahad drew his sword in wrath, and with a keen

blow smote off the left arm of his antagonist, whom he pursued into the

forest.



He soon returned, however, and took up Melias gently, for the truncheon

of the spear was in his body, and bore him on his horse in his arms to

an abbey near at hand. Here the wounded knight was unarmed and laid upon

a bed, where the rites of the church were administered to him.



"Sir Galahad," he then said, "let death come when it will, I am at peace

with God." And he drew the truncheon of the spear from his body, and

swooned away.



But an old monk who stood there, and who was a skilful leech, examined

the wound, and said, "He need not die. By the grace of God I hope to

heal him of this wound within seven weeks."



This gladdened Galahad, and he remained at the abbey three days to see

how Melias should fare. Then he asked him how it stood with him.



"I feel now as if I may live," he answered.



"God be thanked for that," said Galahad. "Now must I depart, for I have

much to do, and the quest of the Sangreal will not permit long leisure

and delay."



"Sir," said the monk, "it is for his sin this knight is so bitterly

wounded. He took on him the high order of knighthood without clean

confession, which was a sinful thing to do. As for the two ways to which

you came, the way on the right betokens the highway of righteousness,

and the way on the left, which he chose, betokens that of sinners and

infidels. And when the devil saw his presumption in taking the quest of

the Sangreal without being worthy of it, he caused his overthrow. And

when he took the crown of gold he sinned in covetousness and theft. As

for you, Sir Galahad, the two knights with whom you fought signify the

two deadly sins which abide in Sir Melias. But they could not withstand

you, for you are without deadly sin."



"God send I may keep so," said Galahad. "Now must I depart. I pray you

do your utmost for this knight."



"My Lord Galahad," said Melias, "I shall get well, and shall seek you as

soon as I can ride."



"God grant you speedy health," said Galahad, and he left the room and

sought his horse, and rode away alone.



After he had ridden for days in various directions, it chanced that he

departed from a place called Abblasoure, where he had heard no mass, as

was his daily custom. But ere the day was old, he came to a mountain, on

which he found a ruined chapel, and here he kneeled before the altar,

and besought God's counsel. And as he prayed he heard a voice that said,

"Go now, thou adventurous knight, to the Castle of Maidens, and do away

with the wicked customs which there are kept."



When Galahad heard this he took his horse and rode away, full of

gladness that he might thus serve God. And not long nor far had he

ridden before he saw in a valley before him a strong castle, with high

towers and battlements and deep ditches; and beside it ran a broad

river, named the Severn.



Here he met an aged man, whom he saluted, and asked the castle's name.



"It is the Castle of Maidens," said the old man.



"Then it is a cursed castle, and an abode of sin," said Galahad. "All

pity is wanting within those walls, and evil and hardness of heart there

have their abode."



"Then, sir knight, you would do well to turn and leave it."



"That shall I not," said Galahad. "I have come here to punish the

evil-doers that there abide."



Leaving the old man, he rode forward, and soon met with seven fair

maidens, who said to him,--



"Sir knight, you ride in folly, for you have the water to pass."



"And why should I not pass the water?" asked Galahad.



He continued his ride, and next met a squire, who said,--



"Sir knight, I bring you defiance from the knights in the castle, who

forbid you to go farther till they learn your purpose."



"You may tell it to them, if you will. I come to destroy the wicked

customs of this castle."



"Sir, if you abide by that, you will have enough to do."



"Go now and bear them my answer."



Then the squire returned to the castle, from which there soon after rode

seven knights, in full armor. When they saw Galahad they cried,--



"Knight, be on your guard, for you have come to your death."



"What!" asked Galahad, "will you all assail me at once?"



"That shall we; so defend yourself."



Then Galahad rode against them and smote the foremost such a blow that

he nearly broke his neck. The others rode on him together, each

striking his shield with might. But their spears broke and he still held

his seat.



He now drew his sword, and set upon them with such energy that, many as

they were, he put them all to flight, chasing them until they entered

the castle, and following them within its walls till they fled from the

castle by another gate.



Galahad was now met by an old man, clad in religious costume, who said

to him,--



"Sir, here are the keys of the castle."



Then the victor ordered that all the gates should be thrown open, and in

the streets of the neighboring town were crowds of people, crying

gladly,--



"Sir knight, you are heartily welcome. Long have we waited for the

deliverance which you bring us."



And a gentlewoman came, who said to him,--



"These knights are fled, but they will come again. Therefore, sir, I

counsel you to send for all the knights that hold their lands of this

castle, and make them swear to restore the old customs, and do away with

the evil practices which these villanous knights have fostered."



"That is good counsel," said Galahad.



Then she brought him a horn of ivory, richly adorned with gold, and

said,--



"Blow this horn loudly. It will be heard two miles and more from the

castle, and all that hear it will come."




copyright 1902 by Curtis and Cameron.



SIR GALAHAD FIGHTING THE SEVEN SINS.]



Galahad took the horn, and blew so loud a blast that the very trees

shook therewith. Then he seated himself and waited to see what would

come from the summons. As he sat there a priest came to him and said,--



"Sir knight, for seven years these brethren have held the castle, whose

lord, Duke Lianor, they killed, and held his daughter prisoner; and by

force they have kept all the knights of the castle under their power,

and have acted as tyrants, robbing the common people of all they had,

and taking tribute and demanding service from all the country round.

Seven years ago the duke's daughter said to them, 'You shall not hold

this castle for many years, for by one knight you shall be overcome.'

'Say you so,' they replied. 'Then shall never knight or lady pass this

castle, but all that come shall stay or lose their heads, till comes

that knight of whom you prophesy.' Therefore this is called the Maidens'

Castle, since its tyrants have so long made war upon maidens."



"Is the duke's daughter still here?"



"No; she died three days after the castle was taken. But her younger

sister and many other ladies are held prisoners."



Soon afterwards the knights of the country began to flock in, in

response to the bugle-call, and glad were they to find what had

occurred. Galahad made them do homage and fealty to the duke's daughter,

which they did with great willingness of heart.



And when the next day dawned great news was brought in, for a messenger

came to Galahad and told him that the seven felon brothers had been met

by Gawaine, Gareth, and Uwaine, and all slain.



"So ends their rule and power," said Galahad, fervently. "It is well

done, and well are all here delivered."



Then he commended them to God, and took his armor and horse, and rode

away amid the prayers of those he had delivered.