While the king spoke there came in softly an old man robed all in white, leading with him a young knight clad in red from top to toe, but without armour or shield, and having by his side an empty scabbard.

The old man went up to the king, and said, “Lord, here I bring thee this young knight of royal lineage, and of the blood of Joseph of Arimathea, by whom the marvels of thy court shall fully be accomplished.”

The king was right glad at his words, and said, “Sir, ye be right heartily welcome, and the young knight also.”

Then the old man put on Sir Galahad (for it was he) a crimson robe trimmed with fine ermine, and took him by the hand and led him to the Perilous Seat, and lifting up the silken cloth which hung upon it, read these words written in gold letters, “This is the seat of Sir Galahad, the good knight.”

“Sir,” said the old man, “this place is thine.”

Then sat Sir Galahad down firmly and surely, and said to the old man, “Sir, ye may now go your way, for ye have done well and truly all ye were commanded, and commend me to my grandsire, King Pelles, and say that I shall see him soon.”  So the old man departed with a retinue of twenty noble squires.

But all the knights of the Round Table marvelled at Sir Galahad, and at his tender age, and at his sitting there so surely in the Perilous Seat.

Then the king led Sir Galahad forth from the palace, to show him the adventure of the floating stone.  “Here” said he, “is as great a marvel as I ever saw, and right good knights have tried and failed to gain that sword.”

“I marvel not thereat,” said Galahad, “for this adventure is not theirs, but mine; and for the certainty I had thereof, I brought no sword with me, as thou mayst see here by this empty scabbard.”

Anon he laid his hand upon the sword, and lightly drew it from the stone, and put it in his sheath, and said, “This sword was that enchanted one which erst belonged to the good knight, Sir Balin, wherewith he slew through piteous mistake his brother Balan; who also slew him at the same time:  all which great woe befell him through the dolorous stroke he gave my grandsire, King Pelles, the wound whereof is not yet whole, nor shall be till I heal him.”

As he stood speaking thus, they saw a lady riding swiftly down the river’s bank towards them, on a white palfrey; who, saluting the king and queen, said, “Lord king, Nacien the hermit sendeth thee word that to thee shall come to-day the greatest honour and worship that hath yet ever befallen a king of Britain; for this day shall the Sangreal appear in thy house.”

With that the damsel took her leave, and departed the same way she came.

“Now,” said the king, “I know that from to-day the quest of the Sangreal shall begin, and all ye of the Round Table will be scattered so that nevermore shall I see ye again together as ye are now; let me then see a joust and tournament amongst ye for the last time before ye go.”