{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/malory/ma03.htm","path":"neu/malory/ma03.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/malory/ma03.htm","text":"Malory: Book Fourteen\nSacred Texts\u00a0\nMalory Index\u00a0\nPrevious: Malory: Book Thirteen, Part II\u00a0\nNext: Malory: Book Fifteen\u00a0\nFourteenth Book\nChapter I\nHow Sir Percivale Came To A Recluse And Asked Counsel, And How She Told Him\nThat She Was His Aunt\n Now saith the tale, that when Sir Launcelot was ridden after Sir\nGalahad, the which had all these adventures above said, Sir Percivale turned\nagain unto the recluse, where he deemed to have tidings of that knight that\nLauncelot followed. And so he kneeled at her window, and the recluse opened\nit and asked Sir Percivale what he would. Madam, he said, I am a knight of\nKing Arthur's court, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis. When the recluse\nheard his name she had great joy of him, for mickle she had loved him tofore\nany other knight, for she ought to do so, for she was his aunt. And then she\ncommanded the gates to be opened, and there he had all the cheer that she\nmight make him, and all that was in her power was at his commandment. So on\nthe morn Sir Percivale went to the recluse and asked her if she knew that\nknight with the white shield. Sir, said she, why would ye wit? Truly, madam,\nsaid Sir Percivale, I shall never be well at ease till that I know of that\nknight's fellowship, and that I may fight with him, for I may not leave him\nso lightly, for I have the shame yet. Ah, Percivale, said she, would ye fight\nwith him? I see well ye have great will to be slain as your father was through\noutrageousness. Madam, said Sir Percivale, it seemeth by your words that ye\nknow me. Yea, said she, I well ought to know you, for I am your aunt, although\nI be in a priory place. For some called me sometime the queen of the Waste\nLands, and I was called the queen of most riches in the world; and it pleased\nme never my riches so much as doth my poverty. Then Sir Percivale wept for\nvery pity when that he knew it was his aunt. Ah, fair nephew, said she, when\nheard ye tidings of your mother? Truly, said he, I heard none of her, but I\ndream of her much in my sleep; and therefore I wot not whether she be dead or\non live. Certes, fair nephew, said she, your mother is dead, for after your\ndeparting from her she took such a sorrow that anon, after she was confessed,\nshe died. Now, God have mercy on her soul, said Sir Percivale, it sore\nforthinketh me; but all we must change the life. Now, fair aunt, tell me what\nis the knight? I deem it be he that bare the red arms on Whitsunday. Wit you\nwell, said she, that this is he, for otherwise ought he not to do, but to go\nin red arms; and that same knight hath no peer, for he worketh all by miracle,\nand he shall never be overcome of none earthly man's hand.\nChapter II\nHow Merlin Likened The Round Table To The World, And How The Knights That\nShould Achieve The Sangreal Should Be Known\n Also Merlin made the Round Table in tokening of roundness of the world,\nfor by the Round Table is the world signified by right, for all the world,\nChristian and heathen, repair unto the Round Table; and when they are chosen\nto be of the fellowship of the Round Table they think them more blessed and\nmore in worship than if they had gotten half the world; and ye have seen that\nthey have lost their fathers and their mothers, and all their kin, and their\nwives and their children, for to be of your fellowship. It is well seen by\nyou; for since ye have departed from your mother ye would never see her, ye\nfound such fellowship at the Round Table. When Merlin had ordained the Round\nTable he said, by them which should be fellows of the Round Table the truth of\nthe Sangreal should be well known. And men asked him how men might know them\nthat should best do and to achieve the Sangreal? Then he said there should be\nthree white bulls that should achieve it, and the two should be maidens, and\nthe third should be chaste. And that one of the three should pass his father\nas much as the lion passeth the leopard, both of strength and hardiness. They\nthat heard Merlin say so said thus unto Merlin: Sithen there shall be such a\nknight, thou shouldest ordain by thy crafts a siege, that no man should sit in\nit but he all only that shall pass all other knights. Then Merlin answered\nthat he would do so. And then he made the Siege Perilous, in the which Galahad\nsat in at his meat on Whitsunday last past. Now, madam, said Sir Percivale, so\nmuch have I heard of you that by my good will I will never have ado with Sir\nGalahad but by way of kindness; and for God's love, fair aunt, can ye teach me\nsome way where I may find him? for much would I love the fellowship of him.\nFair nephew, said she, ye must ride unto a castle the which is called Goothe,\nwhere he hath a cousin-germain, and there may ye be lodged this night. And as\nhe teacheth you, pursue after as fast as ye can; and if he can tell you no\ntidings of him, ride straight unto the Castle of Carbonek, where the maimed\nking is there lying, for there shall ye hear true tidings of him.\nChapter III\nHow Sir Percivale Came Into A Monastery, Where He Found King Evelake, Which\nWas An Old Man\n Then departed Sir Percivale from his aunt, either making great sorrow.\nAnd so he rode till evensong time. And then he heard a clock smite; and then\nhe was ware of an house closed well with walls and deep ditches, and there he\nknocked at the gate and was let in, and he alit and was led unto a chamber,\nand soon he was unarmed. And there he had right good cheer all that night; and\non the morn he heard his mass, and in the monastery he found a priest ready at\nthe altar. And on the right side he saw a pew closed with iron, and behind the\naltar he saw a rich bed and a fair, as of cloth of silk and gold. Then Sir\nPercivale espied that therein was a man or a woman, for the visage was\ncovered; then he left off his looking and heard his service. And when it came\nto the sacring, he that lay within that percloos dressed him up, and uncovered\nhis head; and then him beseemed a passing old man, and he had a crown of gold\nupon his head, and his shoulders were naked and unhilled unto his navel. And\nthen Sir Percivale espied his body was full of great wounds, both on the\nshoulders, arms, and visage. And ever he held up his hands against our Lord's\nbody, and cried: Fair, sweet Father, Jesu Christ, forget not me. And so he lay\ndown, but always he was in his prayers and orisons; and him seemed to be of\nthe age of three hundred winter. And when the mass was done the priest took\nOur Lord's body and bare it to the sick king. And when he had used it he did\noff his crown, and commanded the crown to be set on the altar. Then Sir\nPercivale asked one of the brethren what he was. Sir, said the good man, ye\nhave heard much of Joseph of Aramathie, how he was sent by Jesu Christ into\nthis land for to teach and preach the holy Christian faith; and therefore he\nsuffered many persecutions the which the enemies of Christ did unto him, and\nin the city of Sarras he converted a king whose name was Evelake. And so this\nking came with Joseph into this land, and ever he was busy to be thereas the\nSangreal was; and on a time be nighed it so nigh that Our Lord was displeased\nwith him, but ever he followed it more and more, till God struck him almost\nblind. Then this king cried mercy, and said: Fair Lord, let me never die till\nthe good knight of my blood of the ninth degree be come, that I may see him\nopenly that he shall achieve the Sangreal, that I may kiss him.\nChapter IV\nHow Sir Percivale Saw Many Men Of Arms Bearing A Dead Knight, And How He\nFought Against Them\n When the king thus had made his prayers he heard a voice that said:\nHeard be thy prayers, for thou shalt not die till he have kissed thee. And\nwhen that knight shall come the clearness of your eyes shall come again, and\nthou shalt see openly, and thy wounds shall be healed, and erst shall they\nnever close. And this befel of King Evelake, and this same king hath lived\nthis three hundred winters this holy life, and men say the knight is in the\ncourt that shall heal him. Sir, said the good man, I pray you tell me what\nknight that ye be, and if ye be of King Arthur's court and of the Table\nRound. Yea, forsooth, said he, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis. And\nwhen the good man understood his name he made great joy of him. And then Sir\nPercivale departed and rode till the hour of noon. And he met in a valley\nabout a twenty men of arms, which bare in a bier a knight deadly slain. And\nwhen they saw Sir Percivale they asked him of whence he was. And he answered:\nOf the court of King Arthur. Then they cried all at once: Slay him. Then Sir\nPercivale smote the first to the earth and his horse upon him. And then seven\nof the knights smote upon his shield all at once, and the remnant slew his\nhorse so that he fell to the earth. So had they slain him or taken him had\nnot the good knight, Sir Galahad, with the red arms come there by adventure\ninto those parts. And when he saw all those knights upon one knight he cried:\nSave me that knight's life. And then he dressed him toward the twenty men of\narms as fast as his horse might drive, with his spear in the rest, and smote\nthe foremost horse and man to the earth. And when his spear was broken he set\nhis hand to his sword, and smote on the right hand and on the left hand that\nit was marvel to see, and at every stroke he smote one down or put him to a\nrebuke, so that they would fight no more but fled to a thick forest, and Sir\nGalahad followed them. And when Sir Percivale saw him chase them so, he made\ngreat sorrow that his horse was away. And then he wist well it was Sir\nGalahad. And then he cried aloud: Ah, fair knight, abide and suffer me to do\nthankings unto thee, for much have ye done for me. But ever Sir Galahad rode\nso fast that at the last he passed out of his sight. And as fast as Sir\nPercivale might he went after him on foot, crying. And then he met with a\nyeoman riding upon an hackney the which led in his hand a great steed blacker\nthan any bear. Ah, fair friend, said Sir Percivale, as ever I may do for you,\nand to be your true knight in the first place ye will require me, that ye\nwill lend me that black steed, that I might overtake a knight the which\nrideth afore me. Sir knight, said the yeoman, I pray you hold me excused of\nthat, for that I may not do. For wit ye well, the horse is such a man's\nhorse, that an I lent it you or any man, that he would slay me. Alas, said\nSir Percivale, I had never so great sorrow as I have had for losing of yonder\nknight. Sir, said the yeoman, I am right heavy for you, for a good horse\nwould beseem you well; but I dare not deliver you this horse but if ye would\ntake him from me. That will I not do, said Sir Percivale. And so they\ndeparted; and Sir Percivale set him down under a tree, and made sorrow out\nof measure. And as he was there, there came a knight riding on the horse that\nthe yeoman led, and he was clene armed.\nChapter V\nHow A Yeoman Desired Him To Get Again An Horse And How Sir Percivale's\nHackney Was Slain, And How He Gat An Horse\n And anon the yeoman came pricking after as fast as ever he might, and\nasked Sir Percivale if he saw any knight riding on his black steed. Yea, sir\nforsooth, said he; why sir, ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that steed he hath\nbenome me with strength; wherefor my lord will slay me in what place he\nfindeth me. Well, said Sir Percivale, what wouldst thou that I did? Thou seest\nwell that I am on foot, but an I had a good horse I should bring him soon\nagain. Sir, said the yeoman, take mine hackney and do the best ye can, and I\nshall serve you on foot to wit how that ye shall speed. Then Sir Percivale\nalit upon that hackney, and rode as fast as he might, and at the last he saw\nthat knight. And then he cried: Knight, turn again; and he turned and set his\nspear again Sir Percivale, and he smote the hackney in the middes of the\nbreast that he fell down dead to the earth, and there he had a great fall, and\nthe other rode his way. And then Sir Percivale was wood worth, and cried:\nAbide, wicked knight; coward and false-hearted knight, turn again and fight\nwith me on foot. But he answered not, but passed on his way. When Sir\nPercivale saw he would not turn he cast away his helm and sword, and said: Now\nam I a very wretch, cursed and most unhappy above all other knights. So in\nthis sorrow he abode all that day till it was night; and then he was faint,\nand laid him down and slept till it was midnight; and then he awakened and saw\nafore him a woman which said unto him right fiercely: Sir Percivale, what dost\nthou here? He answered, I do neither good nor great ill. If thou wilt ensure\nme, said she, that thou wilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I shall lend\nthee mine own horse which shall bear thee whither thou wilt. Sir Percivale was\nglad of her proffer, and ensured her to fulfil all her desire. Then abide me\nhere, and I shall go and fetch you an horse. And so she came soon again and\nbrought an horse with her that was inly black. When Percivale beheld that\nhorse he marvelled that it was so great and so well apparelled; and not for\nthen he was so hardy, and he leapt upon him, and took none heed of himself.\nAnd so anon as he was upon him he thrust to him with his spurs, and so he rode\nby a forest, and the moon shone clear. And within an hour and less he bare him\nfour days' journey thence, until he came to a rough water the which roared,\nand his horse would have borne him into it.\nChapter VI\nOf The Great Danger That Sir Percivale Was In By His Horse, And How He Saw A\nSerpent And A Lion Fight\n And when Sir Percivale came nigh the brim, and saw the water so boistous,\nhe doubted to overpass it. And then he made a sign of the cross on his\nforehead. When the fiend felt him so charged he shook off Sir Percivale, and\nhe went into the water crying and roaring, making great sorrow, and it seemed\nunto him that the water brent. Then Sir Percivale perceived it was a fiend,\nthe which would have brought him unto his perdition. Then he commended himself\nunto God, And prayed Our Lord to keep him from all such temptations; and so he\nprayed all that night till on the morn that it was day; then he saw that he\nwas in a wild mountain the which was closed with the sea nigh all about, that\nhe might see no land about him which might relieve him, but wild beasts. And\nthen he went into a valley, and there he saw a young serpent bring a young\nlion by the neck, and so he came by Sir Percivale. With that came a great lion\ncrying and roaring after the serpent. And as fast as Sir Percivale saw this he\nmarvelled, and hied him thither, but anon the lion had overtaken the serpent\nand began battle with him. And then Sir Percivale thought to help the lion for\nhe was the more natural beast of the two; and therewith he drew his sword, and\nset his shield afore him, and there he gave the serpent such a buffet that he\nhad a deadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no resemblant to fight\nwith him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a man. Then\nPercivale perceived that, and cast down his shield which was broken; and then\nhe did off his helm for to gather wind, for he was greatly enchafed with the\nserpent: and the lion went alway about him fawning as a spaniel. And then he\nstroked him on the neck and on the shoulders. And then he thanked God of the\nfellowship of that beast. And about noon the lion took his little whelp and\ntrussed him and bare him there he came from. Then was Sir Percivale alone. And\nas the tale telleth, he was one of the men of the world at that time which\nmost believed in our Lord Jesus Christ, for in those days there were but few\nfolks that believed in God perfectly. For in those days the son spared not the\nfather no more than a stranger. And so Sir Percivale comforted himself in our\nLord Jesus, and besought God no temptation should bring him out of God's\nservice, but to endure as his true champion. Thus when Sir Percivale had\nprayed he saw the lion come toward him, and then he couched down at his feet.\nAnd so all that night the lion and he slept together; and when Sir Percivale\nslept he dreamed a marvellous dream, that there two ladies met with him, and\nthat one sat upon a lion, and that other sat upon a serpent, and that one of\nthem was young, and the other was old; and the youngest him thought said: Sir\nPercivale, my lord saluteth thee, and sendeth thee word that thou array thee\nand make thee ready, for tomorn thou must fight with the strongest champion of\nthe world. And if thou be overcome thou shalt not be quit for losing of any of\nthy members, but thou shalt be shamed for ever to the world's end. And then he\nasked her what was her lord. And she said the greatest lord of all the world:\nand so she departed suddenly that he wist not where.\nChapter VII\nOf The Vision That Sir Percivale Saw, And How His Vision Was Expounded, And\nOf His Lion\n Then came forth the other lady that rode upon the serpent, and she said:\nSir Percivale, I complain me of you that ye have done unto me, and have not\noffended unto you. Certes. madam, he said, unto you nor no lady I never\noffended. Yes, said she, I shall tell you why. I have nourished in this place\na great while a serpent, which served me a great while, and yesterday ye slew\nhim as he gat his prey. Say me for what cause ye slew him, for the lion was\nnot yours. Madam, said Sir Percivale, I know well the lion was not mine, but\nI did it for the lion is of more gentler nature than the serpent, and\ntherefore I slew him; meseemeth I did not amiss against you. Madam, said he,\nwhat would ye that I did? I would, said she, for the amends of my beast that\nye become my man. And then he answered: That will I not grant you. No, said\nshe, truly ye were never but my servant syn ye received the homage of Our\nLord Jesus Christ. Therefore, I ensure you in what place I may find you\nwithout keeping I shall take you as he that sometime was my man. And so she\ndeparted from Sir Percivale and left him sleeping, the which was sore\ntravailed of his advision. And on the morn he arose and blessed him, and he\nwas passing feeble. Then was Sir Percivale ware in the sea, and saw a ship\ncome sailing toward him; and Sir Percivale went unto the ship and found it\ncovered within and without with white samite. And at the board stood an old\nman clothed in a surplice, in likeness of a priest. Sir said Percivale, ye be\nwelcome. God keep you, said the good man. Sir, said the old man, of whence be\nye? Sir, said Sir Percivale, I am of King Arthur's court, and a knight of the\nTable Round, the which am in the quest of the Sangreal; and here am I in\ngreat duresse, and never like to escape out of this wilderness. Doubt not,\nsaid the good man, and ye be so true a knight as the order of chivalry\nrequireth, and of heart as ye ought to be, ye should not doubt that none\nenemy should slay you. What are ye? said Sir Percivale. Sir, said the old\nman, I am of a strange country, and hither I come to comfort you. Sir, said\nSir Percivale, what signifieth my dream that I dreamed this night? And there\nhe told him altogether: She which rode upon the lion betokeneth the new law\nof holy church, that is to understand, faith, good hope, belief, and baptism.\nFor she seemed younger than the other it is great reason, for she was born\nin the resurrection and the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. And for great\nlove she came to thee to warn thee of thy great battle that shall befall\nthee. With whom, said Sir Percivale, shall I fight? With the most champion of\nthe world, said the old man; for as the lady said, but if thou quit thee well\nthou shalt not be quit by losing of one member, but thou shalt be shamed to\nthe world's end. And she that rode on the serpent signifieth the old law, and\nthat serpent betokeneth a fiend. And why she blamed thee that thou slewest\nher servant, it betokeneth nothing; the serpent that thou slewest betokeneth\nthe devil that thou rodest upon to the rock. And when thou madest a sign of\nthe cross, there thou slewest him, and put away his power. And when she asked\nthee amends and to become her man, and thou saidst thou wouldst not, that was\nto make thee to believe on her and leave thy baptism. So he commanded Sir\nPercivale to depart, and so he leapt over the board and the ship, and all\nwent away he wist not whither. Then he went up unto the rock and found the\nlion which always kept him fellowship, and he stroked him upon the back and\nhad great joy of him.\nChapter VIII\nHow Sir Percivale Saw A Ship Coming To Him-Ward, And How The Lady Of The Ship\nTold Him Of Her Disheritance\n By that Sir Percivale had abiden there till mid-day he saw a ship came\nrowing in the sea as all the wind of the world had driven it. And so it\ndrove under that rock. And when Sir Percivale saw this he hied him thither,\nand found the ship covered with silk more blacker than any bear, and therein\nwas a gentlewoman of great beauty and she was clothed richly that none might\nbe better. And when she saw Sir Percivale she said: Who brought you in this\nwilderness where ye be never like to pass hence, for ye shall die here for\nhunger and mischief? Damosel, said Sir Percivale, I serve the best man of the\nworld, and in his service he will not suffer me to die, for who that knocketh\nshall enter, and who that asketh shall have, and who that seeketh him he\nhideth him not. But then she said: Sir Percivale, wot ye what I am? Yea, said\nhe. Now who taught you my name? said she. Now, said Sir Percivale, I know you\nbetter than ye ween. And I came out of the waste forest where I found the red\nknight with the white shield, said the damosel. Ah, damosel, said he, with\nthat knight would I meet passing fain. Sir knight, said she, an ye will ensure\nme by the faith that ye owe unto knighthood that ye shall do my will what time\nI summon you, and I shall bring you unto that knight. Yea, said he, I shall\npromise you to fulfil your desire. Well, said she, now shall I tell you. I\nsaw him in the forest chasing two knights unto a water, the which is called\nMortaise; and they drove him into that water for dread of death, and the two\nknights passed over, and the red knight passed after, and there his horse\nwas drenched, and he, through great strength, escaped unto the land: thus she\ntold him, and Sir Percivale was passing glad thereof. Then she asked him if\nhe had ate any meat late. Nay, madam, truly I ate no meat nigh this three\ndays, but late here I spake with a good man that fed me with his good words\nand holy, and refreshed me greatly.oAh, sir knight, said she, that same man\nis an enchanter and a multiplier of words. For an ye believe him ye shall\nplainly be shamed, and die in this rock for pure hunger, and be eaten with\nwild beasts; and ye be a young man and a goodly knight, and I shall help you\nan ye will. What are ye, said Sir Percivale, that proffered me thus great\nkindness? I am, said she, a gentlewoman that am disherited, which was\nsometime the richest woman of the world. Damosel, said Sir Percivale, who hath\ndisherited you? for I have great pity of you. Sir, said she, I dwelled with\nthe greatest man of the world, and he made me so fair and clear that there was\nnone like me; and of that great beauty I had a little pride more than I ought\nto have had. Also I said a word that pleased him not. And then he would not\nsuffer me to be any longer in his company, and so drove me from mine heritage,\nand so disherited me, and he had never pity of me nor of none of my council,\nnor of my court. And sithen, sir knight, it hath befallen me so, and through\nme and mine I have benome him many of his men, and made them to become my men.\nFor they ask never nothing of me but I give it them, that and much more. Thus\nI and all my servants were against him night and day. Therefore I know now no\ngood knight, nor no good man, but I get them on my side an I may. And for that\nI know that thou art a good knight, I beseech you to help me; and for ye be a\nfellow of the Round Table, wherefore ye ought not to fail no gentlewoman which\nis disherited, an she besought you of help.\nChapter IX\nHow Sir Percivale Promised Her Help, And How He Required Her Of Love, And How\nHe Was Saved From The Fiend\n Then Sir Percivale promised her all the help that he might; and then she\nthanked him. And at that time the weather was hot. Then she called unto her a\ngentlewoman and bad her bring forth a pavilion; and so she did, and pyght it\nupon the gravel. Sir, said she, now may ye rest you in this heat of the day.\nThen he thanked her, and she put off his helm and his shield, and there he\nslept a great while. And then he awoke and asked her if she had any meat, and\nshe said: Yea, also ye shall have enough. And so there was set enough upon\nthe table, and thereon so much that he had marvel, for there was all manner of\nmeats that he could think on. Also he drank there the strongest wine that ever\nhe drank, him thought, and therewith he was a little chafed more than he ought\nto be; with that he beheld the gentlewoman, and him thought she was the\nfairest creature that ever he saw. And then Sir Percivale proffered her love,\nand prayed her that she would be his. Then she refused him, in a manner, when\nhe required her, for the cause he should be the more ardent on her, and ever\nhe ceased not to pray her of love. And when she saw him well enchafed, then\nshe said: Sir Percivale, wit you well I shall not fulfil your will but if ye\nswear from henceforth ye shall be my true servant, and to do nothing but that\nI shall command you. Will ye ensure me this as ye be a true knight? Yea, said\nhe, fair lady, by the faith of my body. Well, said she, now shall ye do with\nme what so it please you; and now wit ye well ye are the knight in the world\nthat I have most desire for. And then two squires were commanded to make a bed\nin middes of the pavilion. And anon she was unclothed and laid therein. And\nthen Sir Percivale laid him down by her naked; and by adventure and grace he\nsaw his sword lie on the ground naked, in whose pommel was a red cross and the\nsign of the crucifix therein, and bethought him on his knighthood and his\npromise made toforehand unto the good man; then he made a sign of the cross in\nhis fore head, and therewith the pavilion turned up so down, and then it\nchanged unto a smoke, and a black cloud, and then he was adread and cried\naloud:\nChapter X\nHow Sir Percivale For Penance Rove Himself Through The Thigh; And How She Was\nKnown For The Devil\n Fair sweet father, Jesus Christ, ne let me not be shamed, the which was\nnigh lost had not thy good grace been. And then he looked into a ship, and\nsaw her enter therein, which said: Sir Percivale, ye have betrayed me. And so\nshe went with the wind roaring and yelling, that it seemed all the water\nbrent after her. Then Sir Percivale made great sorrow, and drew his sword\nunto him, saying: Sithen my flesh will be my master I shall punish it; and\ntherewith he rove himself through the thigh that the blood start about him,\nand said: O good Lord, take this in recompensation of that I have done\nagainst thee, my Lord. So then he clothed him and armed him, and called\nhimself a wretch, saying: How nigh was I lost, and to have lost that I should\nnever have gotten again, that was my virginity, for that may never be\nrecovered after it is once lost. And then he stopped his bleeding wound with\na piece of his shirt. Thus as he made his moan he saw the same ship come from\nOrient that the good man was in the day afore, and the noble knight was\nashamed with himself, and therewith he fell in a swoon. And when he awoke he\nwent unto him weakly, and there he saluted this good man. And then he asked\nSir Percivale: How hast thou done sith I departed? Sir, said he, here was a\ngentlewoman and led me into deadly sin. And there he told him altogether.\nKnew ye not the maid? said the good man. Sir, said he, nay, but well I wot\nthe fiend sent her hither to shame me. O good knight, said he, thou art a\nfool, for that gentlewoman was the master fiend of hell, the which hath power\nabove all devils, and that was the old lady that thou sawest in thine\nadvision riding on the serpent. Then he told Sir Percivale how our Lord Jesus\nChrist beat him out of heaven for his sin, the which was the most brightest\nangel of heaven, and therefore he lost his heritage: And that was the\nchampion that thou foughtest withal, the which had overcome thee had not the\ngrace of God been. Now beware Sir Percivale, and taken this for an ensample.\nAnd then the good man vanished away. Then Sir Percivale took his arms, and\nentered into the ship, and so departed from thence.\nHere endeth the fourteenth booke, which is of Syr Percyval.\nAnd here followeth of Syre Launcelot, which\nis the fifteenth book.","title":"Malory: Book Fourteen","type":"page"}