Sir Bedivere goeth forth again.He doth not cast away the sword.
Sir Bedivere goeth forth again.
He doth not cast away the sword.
So Sir Bedivere went forth again and he went to that place where he had hidden the sword. And he took the sword from where it lay hidden and lifted it in his hands. And when he again beheld the light of the moon illuminating its handle of gold and flaming upon the jewels of the handle, his heart and his purpose weakened within him, and he said to himself, “Surely, it would be a sin to cast away this sword. For it is the most beautiful and noblest sword in all of the world. Wherefore then should I destroy this sword that belongeth not more to the King himself than to the world inwhich he lives? Certes, the King raved in this, wherefore for the sake of posterity and for the sake of those who are to come after, I will not cast this sword into the sea.”
So Sir Bedivere returned to the King, and the King said to him, panting as he spake, “Sir, have you performed that which I have commanded you to undertake?”
And Sir Bedivere said, “Yea, Lord.”
Quoth the King, “What saw you in doing this thing?”
Said Sir Bedivere, “Lord, I beheld the moon shining on high, and I beheld the waves of the sea breaking noisily up against the pebbles of the beach; but naught else did I behold.”
Then the King was silent for a little while and then he cried out, “Oh, woe is me! that all my authority hath departed from me with my strength! For it was to be supposed that mine enemies would betray me but not that my friends would betray me. But here lie I hovering upon the edge of death, and now this knight who is my sworn knight and vassal will not do that which I bid him to do because of the jewels that enrich the hilt of that sword.”
Then Sir Bedivere wept and he said, “Lord, I will do that which thou biddest me to do.” And King Arthur said, “Do it, and make haste.”
Sir Bedivere casteth away the sword.
So Sir Bedivere ran forth from that chapel. And he ran to where the sword was hidden and he took the sword and wrapped the belt of the sword about it. And he ran down the rocks to the sea shore, and when he had come there he whirled the sword several times about his head and cast it far out over the water.
An arm catcheth the sword.
And Sir Bedivere beheld the sword that it whirled, flashing in the moonlight like to pure circles of light, whirling in the darkness. So the sword described a circle above the water and it descended to the water, and as the sword descended to the water there emerged from the water an arm. And around the arm was a sleeve of white samite and about the arm were many bracelets of gold inset with precious stones. And the arm catched the sword by the haft and brandished it thrice, and then drew it down beneath the water. And the water closed over it and the sword and the arm were gone.
All this Sir Bedivere beheld, and when he had beheld it he returned, musing, to where King Arthur lay in that small chapel above the cliffs.
And when he returned, King Arthur said to him, “Sir, did you do as I commanded you to, and did you fling Excalibur into the water?” Sir Bedivere said, “Lord, I did as you commanded me.”
Quoth King Arthur, “And what did you behold?”
Said Sir Bedivere, “When I thus threw that sword into the water of the sea, an arm came out of that water. And the arm had to it a sleeve of white samite and it was enclasped with many bracelets of gold, and the bracelets were set with many precious stones of various sorts. And the hand of the arm catched Excalibur by the hilt and it brandished him three times in the air and then it drew him beneath the water. That is what I saw.”
Said King Arthur, “Well hast thou served me in this! But the time groweth short and mine end draweth near. Take me upon thy shoulders and bear me to the sea shore at that place where thou didst cast Excalibur into the sea. There thou wilt find a boat with several ladies in it. That boat is intended for me, and now I know that boat will be there waiting for me since that arm arose and the hand of the arm seized upon Excalibur.”
Sir Bedivere beareth the King to the boat.
So Sir Bedivere stooped his shoulders. And he drew the arms of King Arthur upon either side of his neck, and the arms of the King were very weak and limp like to those of a little child that is ill. And Sir Bedivere raised himself and he lifted King Arthur from his couch, and King Arthur groaned when Sir Bedivere lifted him. And Sir Bedivere bore King Arthur out of that chapel and into the moonlight. And Sir Bedivere bore King Arthur in that wise down to the cliffs of the sea. And by now a chill was upon the night so that the panting breath of Sir Bedivere came forth from his nostrils like to thin smoke. And ever the iron shoes of Sir Bedivere smote upon the rocks as he walked, so that the rocks rang beneath his tread.
So Sir Bedivere bore King Arthur down that cliff to where the sea splashed and moaned upon the rocks of the sea, and the shadows of Sir Bedivere and of the King were very black and shapeless upon those rocks, and the shadows walked with them down to the sea.
So by and by Sir Bedivere perceived that they were coming close to that place where he had cast the sword into the sea. And as he drew near he perceived that there was there a boat drawn up to the shore at that spot where he had stood to cast the sword into the water. And Sir Bedivere saw that there were several people standing within the boat and that these people were three queens and their attendants.
The three queens take the King into the boat.
Two of those queens Sir Bedivere knew, for they were the one Queen Morgana le Fay and the other the Queen of North Wales. But the third of those queens he did not know. Yet he saw that she was very tall and straight and that she was clad in garments of green, very thin and glistering. And her hair was black and glossy, shining in the moonlight like to fine and very glassythreads of silk. And her face was exceedingly white, like to wax for whiteness, and her eyes were very black and brilliant, like to brilliant jewels set into that ivory whiteness. And around the neck of this lady were many necklaces of jewels of gold inset with emerald stones, very bright and shining.
This lady stood at the tiller of that strange boat and she was the Lady of the Lake, though Sir Bedivere wist not who she was. And she held the tiller very steadily and so held the boat close to the shore.
And in that boat were several other ladies who stood there very silently and looked ever toward the shore where was Sir Bedivere; but these were the ladies attendant upon those queens.
Then when Sir Bedivere came thitherward carrying King Arthur upon his shoulders, those ladies lifted up their voices in piercing lamentation so that the heart of Sir Bedivere ached to hear that lament. And Queen Morgana le Fay and the Queen of North Wales arose and reached their arms for King Arthur; and Sir Bedivere gave King Arthur into their arms and they two took him—Queen Morgana by the shoulders and the Queen of North Wales by the knees—and they lifted him into the boat.
And they laid him upon a couch within the boat, and he lay with his head pillowed upon the lap of Queen Morgana. And Sir Bedivere stood upon the shore and looked upon the face of King Arthur as it lay within the lap of Queen Morgana, and he beheld that the face of King Arthur was white like to the ashes of wood, wherefore he wist that he was dead. And Sir Bedivere cried out in a loud and wailing voice, saying, “My Lord and King, wilt thou leave me? What then shall I do? For here am I alone in the midst of mine enemies.”
The King speaketh to Sir Bedivere.
Then King Arthur opened his eyes and he said, “Hah, Messire, thou hast no enemies about thee, for thine enemies are put to flight, and in a little while Sir Launcelot comes who will be thy friend. But go thou back into the world and tell them all that thou hast beheld at this place. For wit you that now I know that I shall not die at this place, but that I shall go in this boat and with my sister, Queen Morgana, to Avalon. There in the Vale of Avalon I shall live, and by and by and after many years I shall again return to Britain and no man shall know of my return. But with that return shall come peace and tranquillity. And war shall be no more, but the arts of peace shall flourish. So take that message back with thee into the world, for now I go to leave thee; and so farewell.”
Then for the third time those ladies lifted up their voices and wailed in lamentation, and with that lamentation the boat trembled and moved.And it moved away from the shore; at first slowly, then more and more swiftly until it disappeared in the moonlight of the night. And for awhile Sir Bedivere saw it, and then he was not sure that he saw it, and then it vanished away into the whiteness of the moonlight, and was gone from his vision.
Then Sir Bedivere moved weeping away from that shore and he wept so that hardly could he see what next step he took. And so Sir Bedivere came away from that shore, and in his sorrow he wist not whither he went. But ever he walked forward for all that night, and when the morning was come he found himself to be near to a considerable city. So he went forward to that city and he found that there was a great bustle and turmoil of people coming and going.
Sir Bedivere cometh to the Archbishop.
So Sir Bedivere entered the city and he said, “Who is here?” They say to him, “It is the Archbishop of Canterbury who is here.” Sir Bedivere said to them, “Take me to him.”
He telleth the Archbishop what hath befallen.
So they took him to where the Archbishop was, and several other bishops were with him. And when the Archbishop beheld Sir Bedivere he said, “Sir, why are you so pale?” Then Sir Bedivere said, “Sir, I am pale because of all that I have beheld.” Then Sir Bedivere told the Archbishop and those who were with him of that great battle they had fought the day before between Salisbury and the sea. And he told him of all that had happened in that battle and of the knights who were slain therein. And he told him how that Sir Mordred was slain and how King Arthur had been wounded by Sir Mordred and had departed at night in that boat as aforetold of.
To all this the Archbishop listened with great astonishment and he cried out, “How is this, and what is this thou tellest me? Is King Arthur gone, and has that good and wise King disappeared thus mysteriously from amongst us?” And he said, “What next of kin doth the King leave behind him?” Sir Bedivere said, “His nighest of kin is Sir Constantine of Cornwall, who is cousin unto Sir Gawaine.”
The Archbishop said, “Him then shall we crown to be the next King of Britain. For so will he succeed in rightful line from the strain of King Uther Pendragon.”
And so it was done as the Archbishop said, for shortly after that Sir Constantine of Cornwall was crowned King of Britain at Camelot—which same, saith the history of these things, is Winchester of these present days.
So I have told you of the Passing of Arthur, which in all the other histories of those things is told as I have told it. But of that which happened thereafter there are many distinct and separate histories.
But that history which hath been accepted of old by the people of England is this: That King Arthur did not die, but that he was taken by Queen Morgana le Fay and by those two other queens to Avalon, and that there he was salved so that he did not die. And that history saith that he lives there yet, and that some day he shall come back to Britain as he promised to do, and that when he thus shall come there, there shall likewise come continual peace and plenty and joy and happiness as he promised.
Concerning Avalon.
And touching Avalon there is this to say—that it is the dwelling-place of Queen Morgana le Fay, and that it is a strange and wonderful island that floats forever upon the sea to the westward. And many people declare that they have beheld that land, but always from a distance. For sometimes they call it Fata Morgana, and sometimes they call it Avalon. But always when they see it it is to behold high towers and glittering pinnacles reaching into the sky; and it is to behold the embowerment of trees, both of forest trees and of shade trees; and it is to behold hill and vale of that mysterious country more beautiful than are the hills and vales of the dark and gloomy earth. For Avalon is sometimes called the Vale of Avalon and sometimes it is called Avalon the Beautiful.
There in that pleasant country is no snow and no ice; neither is there the scorching heats and droughts of summer, but all forever and for aye is the tepid warmth of vernal springtime.
And the people of Avalon are always happy, for never do they weep and never do they bear enmity to one another, but all live in peace and tranquillity watching their flocks, which are as white as snow, and their herds, whose breath smelleth of wild thyme and parsley.
There, people believe, yet liveth King Arthur, and he is not dead nor is he yet awake, but ever he lyeth sleeping as in peace.
But it is believed by many that the time shall come when he will awake again. Then he will return once more to this earth, and all shall be peace and concord amongst men.
And many believe that this time is now nigh at hand. For less and less is there war within the world, and more and more is there peace and concord and good will amongst men. Wherefore, let every man live at peace with other men, and wish them well and do them well, and then will King Arthur awake from his sleep. Then will his dreadful wound be healed and then will he return unto his own again.
Of such was the passing of Arthur.
The Passing of Guinevere
How Sir Launcelot came to Queen Guinevere, and how Queen Guinevere remained a nun. How Sir Launcelot went into the forest and became a hermit, and how seven of his fellows joined him there. Also of the death of Sir Launcelot of the Lake.
NOW it hath already been told how that Sir Launcelot of the Lake received the note of Sir Ewaine, and of how he and his knights decided to come to the aid of King Arthur.
Sir Launcelot landeth at Dover.
So Sir Launcelot and his knights to the number of two hundred and twelve came to England in ships and galleys, and they landed at Dover as King Arthur had done.
And when Sir Launcelot arrived at Dover there came to him a messenger and told him of that battle that had been fought upon the plains not far from Salisbury, and how that Sir Mordred had been slain and how that King Arthur had died of his wound thereafter. And that messenger also told him how that Sir Constantine of Cornwall had been crowned King of Britain, in the room of King Arthur.
All this Sir Launcelot heard and also the knights who were with him. And Sir Launcelot wept a very great deal and several of those knights who were with him wept also. And Sir Launcelot cried out, “Ah, my dear noble and gracious lord, King Arthur! Woe is me that in that first battle I should have slain Sir Agravaine and not Sir Mordred! For it is now upon me to believe that Sir Mordred was the instigator of all this mischief. But now is King Arthur gone and all is turned to ruin and to loss about us. For here be hardly any of the Knights of the Round Table yet living, and many of those who were amongst the best and noblest of those knights have been slain. To wit, Sir Gawaine hath been slain, and Sir Lionel and Sir Ector have been slain, and Sir Ewaine hath been slain, and Sir Gareth who was my dear and loving friend hath been slain, and Sir Geharis hath been slain. All these have died and several others, and had it not been for Sir Mordred and his treachery these would yet have been alive. Butall these have died because of the treachery of Sir Mordred. Would that he had died in the beginning, for these would all then have been saved!”
So Sir Launcelot made his lament, and in making it the tears flowed down his face in streams. And Sir Launcelot said, “Who of us can now serve under King Constantine as vassals?” They say to him, “none of us can so serve him.” Said Sir Launcelot, “nor can I serve him.” Then he said, “Where is now Queen Guinevere?” They say to him, “Sir, she is at this present at the convent of Saint Bridget at Rochester and she is the Abbess of that convent. For since King Arthur gave her to the church she hath taken up the orders of the church and hath become a nun of black and white.”
Sir Launcelot goeth to Rochester to seek the Queen.
So that night Sir Launcelot took horse and he rode away alone, and he rode to Rochester and to the convent of Saint Bridget. And Sir Launcelot came into the room of that convent and he said to those who were there, “Let me have speech with the Abbess of this place.”
Then anon came Queen Guinevere to where he was, and Sir Launcelot stood in the middle of the room and looked toward her. And he beheld that her face was grown very white and thin and that she was clad in robes of black and white. And the Queen looked toward Sir Launcelot and she knew him. And when she beheld him she cried out in a very loud and piercing voice, “God save me! Is it thou?” And with that she felt around behind her as though in a blindness. And she felt that there was a form behind her and she sat down upon the form. And she swooned upon that form so that her head fell backward across the back of the form. And Sir Launcelot perceived that she had swooned.
Then Sir Launcelot called to the ladies of that convent in a very loud voice, “Make haste! Make haste! For the Queen hath swooned!” So several of those ladies came hastening and they loosened the robes of the Queen at the throat and they chafed her hands and bathed her temples with vinegar, and anon she awoke from her swoon and found Sir Launcelot kneeling before her.
The Queen bespeaks Sir Launcelot.
And the Queen reached out and touched Sir Launcelot and she said, “Art thou real, or art thou a spirit?” And Sir Launcelot replied, “Lady, I am flesh and blood as thou art.” Then the Queen said to him, “Sir, what seek you here?” And Sir Launcelot replied, “I seek thee, Lady. For ever thou art present with me by day and by night, and never art thou absent from my thoughts.”
The Queen said, “Ah, Launcelot! It is vain for thee to seek me here, for ever my heart is here in this place and here it will always remain. Forhere have I bethought me of my life and of all the joys and pleasures of my life, and of all the sinfulness and the evil that I have committed. And I wit that my lord, King Arthur, is now ever first within my thoughts and within my heart. For though I fled from King Arthur that time and betook myself with thee to Joyous Gard, yet there at Joyous Gard my heart turned ever to my lord and my King. For he was the lover of my youth, and first and last my heart turned ever to him in all my joys and in all my troubles. So now my King is passed, and my heart cleaveth to him in Paradise, and there I will haply rejoin my King and will dwell with him for aye. For there we shall be together in bliss and naught that is of sorrow or uncertainty shall ever come betwixt us.”
Then Sir Launcelot cried out, “And I, Lady, is there naught in thy thoughts for me?”
She said, “Yea, Launcelot, there is great friendship and love for thee, but not that sort of love. So get thee back to Joyous Gard and there take thee to wife some fair and gentle lady of that place. For so thou mayst rear to thee children in the stead of that Sir Galahad who hath departed from thee some while ago.”
Sir Launcelot said, “Lady, I can never wed any woman in this world but thee.” And the Queen said, “Ah, Launcelot, that is a pity.”
Sir Launcelot departeth from the Queen.
So that speech between those two came to an end, and Sir Launcelot rode away from that place with his head bowed low upon his breast. And Sir Launcelot rode ever toward the forest and anon he rode into the forest. And when Sir Launcelot had come to that place he kneeled down before that Hermit of the Forest and he said to him “Sir, I pray you to confess me and assoil me. For here henceforth and to the end of my days will I remain a hermit of the forest like as thou art. Several times have I lived here as a recluse, yet have I ever returned by and by to the world. But now will I never return to that world again; for all the pleasure of that world was taken away from me and I am left barren of hope and of joy.”
Sir Launcelot becometh a forest recluse.
So Sir Launcelot withdrew to another part of the forest, and he took his armor from off his body and hung his armor up upon the branches of a tree that was near at hand. And he took the harness and trappings from off his horse and he turned his horse loose to browse at will upon the grass that grew there at that place. So Sir Launcelot became a recluse of the forest with intent never more to be anything else than that forest recluse.
Now when those knights who were in attendance upon Sir Launcelot at Dover discovered that he had gone from them, they wist not where hehad gone and they searched for him at all places, and yet they could not find him. So most of those knights separated and divided, each knight departing to his own home. But several of those who were kin to Sir Launcelot joined them together to search for him. And these were the knights that searched for Sir Launcelot: there were Sir Bors and Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamor de Ganis, and there was Sir Galahud and Sir Galahadin, and there was Sir Villiars, and there was Sir Clarus. These seven knights searched Britain from end to end and all athwart the land, and ever they sought for Sir Launcelot. So, at last, they came to that part of the forest where Sir Launcelot abided.
And those knights beheld a horse browsing in the open parts of the forest, and Sir Bors said to the others, “Messires, yonder an I mistake not is the horse of Sir Launcelot.” Then they went a little farther and they beheld the armor of Sir Launcelot hanging upon the branches of the tree. And Sir Bors examined that armor and he said, “This, certes, is the armor of Sir Launcelot. Now he cannot be far distant from this place.”
Anon they heard the knelling of a little vesper bell, and Sir Bors said, “Yonder is the bell of the Hermit of the Forest. Let us go thitherward and mayhap we may hear news of Sir Launcelot.” So they went in that direction and by and by they came to the chapel of the Hermit of the Forest. And they looked within the chapel door and they beheld the Hermit and another anchorite kneeling in prayer. And there were little birds within the chapel and they hopped about there upon the floor and about those two kneeling figures and were not afraid of either of them.
The knights companion find Sir Launcelot.
So, by and by, those two ended their prayers, and they arose. Then those knights beheld the face of the anchorite and they saw that it was the face of Sir Launcelot. For though the face of Sir Launcelot was covered with a beard and though it was very thin and peaked from fasting, yet they knew it for his face. For Sir Launcelot had eaten no meat and but little food of any sort, but had deprived himself of food for the betterment of his soul.
Then Sir Bors spake and he said, “Sir Launcelot, is it thou who art here?” And Sir Launcelot said, “Aye, it is indeed I whom thou beholdest.” Sir Bors said, “Sir, this life does not beseem thee to lead, wherefore place upon thee thine armor and come forth with us into the world again. For thy life is certes of value to that world.” “Nay,” said Sir Launcelot, “I will not leave this place, for here I dwell in peace and amity with the world. Why then should I again go forth into strife as of old?” Quoth Sir Bors, “Sir, this life thou art leading is but the neglect of duty, for the duty of every knight is to be within the world and to do the workof the world, be that work to battle or to labor. Why then shouldst thou rest here in this hermitage and without action of any sort?”
“Messire,” said Sir Launcelot, “were there a call for me to go forth into the world, then would I go. For my duty would then demand of me to assume again the armor of my knighthood. But there is no such call, nor am I any longer young, as one time I was. Wherefore, now hath come my time for rest, and so I remain here in quiet within the woodlands.”
The knights companion become recluses.
Sir Bors said, “Sir, we are your knights and your followers, wherefore if you remain here within the forest, so also do we remain with you. For your life shall be our life and your fare shall be our fare until the end.” And Sir Launcelot said, “Let it be that way.”
So all those knights remained there within the forest and all of them assumed the holy orders of hermits. Thus they remained there for three years and in that time they dwelt in great peace and concord. And they disturbed none of those things that were living within the forest, so that the wild creatures of the forest presently grew tame to them. For they could lay their hands upon the haunches of the wild doe of the forest and it would not flee away from them, for the wild thing wist that they meant it no harm.
Thus they lived there in solitude and they cultivated their plots of pulse and barley, and the fame of their virtues and of their holiness spread far and wide, so that many people came thither from the world for the sake of their prayers and of their benediction.
Now one night as he slept Sir Launcelot had a dream, and the dream came to him in the second watch of the night. And the dream of Sir Launcelot was this:
Sir Launcelot dreameth.
He dreamed that he beheld Queen Guinevere standing before him, and her face smiled and was very radiant as though a bright light shone through her face from behind. For her face was translated by that light so that it was all of a glorious and rosy pink in its color. And the Queen was clad all in a very straight robe of cloth of gold and that robe shone with a very singular lustre. And around her neck and her arms were many ornaments of gold and these also shone and glittered as she moved or breathed. And this vision of Queen Guinevere said, “Rejoice, O Sir Launcelot! For my troubles and cares are at an end. For now I am in Paradise and my body sleepeth and is dead.”
Then Sir Launcelot awoke and he found that it was morning and that the sun was shining.
And Sir Launcelot arose and went forth and he came to where the Hermit was, and he told the Hermit of that dream. Then the Hermit said to him, “Sir, meseems from this dream that the Queen is no more, but that she is dead and that her soul hath been translated unto Paradise. Make haste and go thither where she is and see if this be so.”
So Sir Launcelot mounted his horse and his seven companions mounted their horses and together they rode unto Rochester. And Sir Launcelot rode to the nunnery at that place and he said to them that came to him, “Where is the Lady Abbess of this monastery?”
They say to him, “Sir, she died last night at the second watch of the night.” Sir Launcelot said, “Bring me to her.”
He beholdeth the dead Queen.
So they took Sir Launcelot to where lay the body of the Queen, and it was in a large upper room and the windows were open and the breeze blew cold through the room. And Sir Launcelot beheld the Queen that her body lay upon a couch of white linen, and he perceived that the face of the body was white like to wax. And he saw that the lips of the body smiled as he had beheld the Queen to smile in the dream that he had had of her the night before.
Then Sir Launcelot did not weep, only he stood with his hands clasped very tightly together, and he reviewed in his mind all that had befallen him and her. And he reviewed the first time that he had come to the King’s Court at Camelot. And he reviewed how he had sacrificed the life of his lady for the love of the Queen. And he reviewed how he had done battle for the Queen, and how he had saved her life by that battle, and he reviewed how he had fought and slain his friends that he might bring her away from her trial to Joyous Gard. All those things he reviewed, and some of those things were of peace to him and some of them were of torment. Then he spake and he said, “Ah, Lady! Would that I were lying as thou lyest. For then would I too be at peace, whiles now I am not at peace.”
So died Queen Guinevere, and at that time she was in the forty-sixth year of her age and was exceedingly beautiful.
So those eight knights remained there at the nunnery for two days, and upon the third day the body of Queen Guinevere was interred before the altar of the nunnery. And upon the stone that covered that body were these words:
Hir · jaret · Guinevera · ReginaQuondam · Regina · Brittaniæ · erat.
Hir · jaret · Guinevera · ReginaQuondam · Regina · Brittaniæ · erat.
And for many years that entablature was to be seen at Rochester, wherefore it may be known that Queen Guinevere was indeed there buried. For so saith the history of those things and so those things must be.
After all those things had passed, those knights again retired to the forest and there they again took up their abode as of old. And so they lived there for two or three years longer. Then they left that forest as shall presently be told.
For now speak we of the Passing of Sir Launcelot, which was as follows:
Sir Launcelot cometh not to prayers.
One morning all they who were there awoke very early and they went to their matin prayers. That morning was in the May time, all the trees were in leaf and the apple trees were in blossom. For whensoever the soft warm wind blew through the trees, then did those blossoms shed their fragrant pink snow until all the grass around about was spread therewith. And the birds were singing in every bush and tree so that all the air was full of their melodious and harmonious jubilation.
That time when they were assembled they looked around and beheld that Sir Launcelot was not there and they said, “Where is Sir Launcelot, that he cometh not to matin prayers?” So Sir Bors went to the cell of Sir Launcelot and he beheld that Sir Launcelot was lying very peacefully upon his couch. And Sir Bors went to Sir Launcelot to arouse him, and he saw that Sir Launcelot was dead. And the hands of Sir Launcelot were folded upon his breast, and there was a smile of great peace and good content upon the lips of Sir Launcelot.
Sir Bors beholdeth him, dead.
Then Sir Bors went to the door of the cell of Sir Launcelot and he called those others to come thither and they did so. And Sir Bors said to them, “Behold! Here lyeth that which was once Sir Launcelot, but which is that knight no more. But God be praised that he died in such peace and tranquillity as he hath done.”
And all they, as they gazed upon Sir Launcelot, beheld that it was so, and that he had indeed died in great peace and tranquillity with his God.
And Sir Bors said, “Let us take the body of this good knight and carry it to Joyous Gard that it may be buried there. For so would he have it that his body should be buried at Joyous Gard.”
So they brought them to that forest place a horse bier and they laid the body of Sir Launcelot upon that horse bier, and they covered the body so that no one might see it in passing. And they bore the body thence and to Joyous Gard, and so, after many tribulations and many sufferings and sorrows, the body of Sir Launcelot lay in peace and quietness at that place.
He lyeth at Joyous Gard.
And those knights who were with him did not return to the forest, otherwise they continued at Joyous Gard. And one of those knights always sat at vigil beside the tomb of Sir Launcelotand kept burning there seven waxen tapers. And so the tomb was always illuminated with those waxen tapers whiles those knights lived.
Of the death of Sir Bors.
And the last of those knights to die was Sir Bors de Ganis, for Sir Bors was over fourscore years of age when he died. For when the priest came thither one morning, he found Sir Bors sitting beside the tomb of Sir Launcelot, and Sir Bors had died at that time. And one of those seven candles (which same was the candle of Sir Bors) was not lit but was burned out. For so the life of Sir Bors had flickered out, even as the light of that candle had departed.
So with this endeth the history of the lives of those knights, and so I have told it to you.
THUS have I written the history of King Arthur and of sundry of those knights that comprised his Round Table. For so may you see with what patience, what labor and what self-devotion those knights served their king, their Round Table and their fellows.
For those knights were very gallant gentlemen who thought but little of care and trouble and who practised self-denial when that self-denial could be of avail to help their friends or to benefit the world.
For ever they brought aid to those who were in trouble and comfort to those who were afflicted ever they brought food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty; and ever they destroyed giants and monsters and wicked men, and so made the world a better and a comelier place in which to dwell. And wit ye that no man can do better than that in this world: to bring aid to the afflicted; food to the hungry, and a release from trouble to those who are in anxiety.
Yea; for seven years have I been engaged in writing these books, which contain the history of these things. Many other things have I done in that time. For I have painted many pictures besides having written these books and other works of a like sort. And these books are four in number: first, there is the Book of King Arthur; then there is the Book of the Champions of the Round Table; then there is the Book of Sir Launcelot and his companions, and now there is this Book of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur, and this book is the last. For those books comprise a history of all this time; for though there be many things left untold in them, yet those things are of small consequence. For all that is of greater note hath been here told, and that in full.
And I thank God that he hath permitted me to finish this work, for wit ye that when a man taketh seven years of his life to complete an undertaking, he knoweth not whether he shall live to complete that which he hath begun.
But so I have completed it, and for that I thank God who permitted me to complete it. Amen.
Finished at Wilmington, Delaware,This 16th day of Aprilin the year of graceMCMX.