“Nor did he doubt her more,

But rested in her fealty, till he crown’d
A happy life with a fair death, and fell
Against the heathen of the Northern Sea
In battle, fighting for the blameless King.” 

          
                                        TENNYSON,—­Geraint and Enid.

[Sidenote:  Sir Galahad.] One Pentecost Day, when all the knights were assembled, as usual, around the table at Camelot, a distressed damsel suddenly entered the hall and implored Lancelot to accompany her to the neighboring forest, where a young warrior was hoping to receive knighthood at his hands.  This youth was Sir Galahad, the peerless knight, whom some authorities call Lancelot’s son, while others declare that he was not of mortal birth.

On reentering the hall after performing this ceremony, Lancelot heard that a miracle had occurred, and rushed with the king and his companions down to the riverside.  There the rumor was verified, for they all saw a heavy stone floating down the stream, and perceived that a costly weapon was sunk deep in the stone.  On this weapon was an inscription, declaring that none but a peerless knight should attempt to draw it out, upon penalty of a grievous punishment.  As all the knights of the Round Table felt guilty of some sin, they modestly refused to touch it.

When they returned into the hall an aged man came in, accompanied by Galahad, and the latter, fearless by right of innocence, sat down in the “Siege Perilous.”  As his name then appeared upon it, all knew that he was the rightful occupant, and hailed his advent with joy.  Then, noticing that he wore an empty scabbard, and hearing him state that he had been promised a marvelous sword, they one and all escorted him down to the river, where he easily drew the sword out of the stone.  This fitted exactly in his empty sheath, and all vowed that it was evidently meant for him.

That selfsame night, after evensong, when all the knights were seated about the Round Table at Camelot, they heard a long roll of thunder, and felt the palace shake.  The brilliant lights held by the statues of the twelve conquered kings grew strangely dim, and then, gliding down upon a beam of refulgent celestial light, they all beheld a dazzling vision of the Holy Grail.  Covered by white samite, and borne by invisible hands, the sacred vessel was slowly carried all around the great hall, while a delicious perfume was wafted throughout the huge edifice.  All the knights of the Round Table gazed in silent awe at this resplendent vision, and when it vanished as suddenly and as mysteriously as it had come, each saw before him the food which he liked best.

Speechless at first, and motionless until the wonted light again illumined the hall, the knights gave fervent thanks for the mercy which had been vouchsafed them, and then Lancelot, springing impetuously to his feet, vowed that he would ride forth in search of the Holy Grail and would know no rest until he had beheld it unveiled.  This vow was echoed by all the knights of the Round Table; and when Arthur now questioned them closely, he discovered that none had seen the vessel unveiled.  Still he could not prevent his knights from setting out in quest of it, because they had solemnly vowed to do so.