The Grail vision at the pentecostal feast
I. La Queste del Saint Graal (ca. 1220)
The Vulgate Cycle — translated by W. W. Comfort
The Grail Vision
When they were all seated and the noise was hushed, there came a clap of thunder so loud and terrible that they thought the palace must fall. Suddenly the hall was lit by a sunbeam which shed a radiance through the palace seven times greater than had been before. In this moment they were illumined as it might be by the grace of the Holy Ghost, and they began to look at one another, uncertain and perplexed. For even those who had known each other longest could not open their mouths to speak, nor did any seem to know his comrade. Thus they gazed at one another like dumb beasts, the most noble at the most humble and the most humble at the most noble. When they had looked thus for a considerable time—though none could have said whether it was long or brief, so rapt were they and so beside themselves—then there entered the Holy Grail, covered with a cloth of white samite; but no one could see who carried it. It came in through the great door, and at once the palace was filled with fragrance as if all the spices of the earth had been spilled abroad. And the Grail passed through the hall and around the high dais, and as it passed before the tables they were at once supplied in plenty with the finest food and drink that could be imagined. When all were served and the Grail had passed on, those present recovered their faculty of speech, which they had lost at the Grail's entrance. Then King Arthur gave thanks to our Lord for the great honor He had shown them in permitting them to be served and fed by the grace of the Holy Vessel. The knights likewise gave thanks with great devotion, for they well understood that our Lord had shown them this honor for some special reason, and not without cause. When they had given thanks they set to eating such fare as had been set before them, and they found it passing good and delicate beyond measure.
The Knights' Vows to Seek the Grail
When they had eaten, Sir Gawaine rose from his seat and said to the King and to all present: "Sirs, we have today been served and fed by the grace of the Holy Grail; yet were we not permitted to see it openly, for it was covered and hidden from our sight. Wherefore, for my part, I make this vow: to enter tomorrow without delay upon the Quest and to prosecute it for a year and a day, and longer yet if need be; and I will not return to court for any reason whatsoever until I have seen it more clearly than it has been manifested to me here, if peradventure it be destined that I can behold it. And if it be not so destined, I will return." When the knights of the Round Table heard Sir Gawaine make this vow, they all rose from their places, and each made the same vow that Sir Gawaine had made, pledging themselves to prosecute the Quest of the Holy Grail and not to return until they had seen it more openly, or until a year and a day had passed. When King Arthur heard them make these vows he was greatly dismayed, for he well knew that once they had made such vows they could not withdraw them. And he said to Sir Gawaine: "Ah, Gawaine, Gawaine, you have betrayed me! For by the vow you have made you have taken from me the fairest and most loyal fellowship that ever was seen in any king's court. I know well that when they depart from hence they shall never all meet together again in this world, for many shall die in this Quest. Therefore it grieves me greatly, for I have loved them as my own life."
II. Le Morte d'Arthur — Sir Thomas Malory (1485)
Book XIII: The Tale of the Sankgreal
Now turn we unto Arthur the king, that commanded all his knights to come unto the high feast of Pentecost at Camelot, and there was passing great press of dukes, earls, and barons. And when they were all come and set at meat, then came in at the hall door two men well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders there leaned the goodliest young knight that ever was seen, and so they brought him unto the Siege Perilous. And there they had seen letters of gold that said: Four hundred winters and fifty-four accomplished after the Passion of our Lord Jesu Christ ought this siege to be fulfilled.
And on Whitsunday a good man and a true knight should sit therein, or else the Round Table should be destroyed. And all they said that siege ought to be fulfilled that same day, for it was Pentecost, the feast at which our Lord ascended into heaven and sent down the Holy Ghost upon his apostles.
Now, said the king, we may go to dinner, for a marvellous adventure have we seen. So the king and all went unto the court, and every knight knew his own place, and set him therein, and young men that were knights served them.
The Siege Perilous Fulfilled
So when they were served, and all sieges fulfilled save only the Siege Perilous, anon there befell a marvellous adventure, that all the doors and windows of the palace shut by themself. Not for then the hall was not greatly darked; and therewith they abashed both one and other. Then King Arthur spake first and said: "By God, fair fellows and lords, we have seen this day marvels, but or night I suppose we shall see greater marvels."
In the meanwhile came in a good old man, and an ancient, clothed all in white, and there was no knight knew from whence he came. And with him he brought a young knight, both on foot, in red arms, without sword or shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side. And these words he said: "Peace be with you, fair lords." Then the old man said unto Arthur: "Sir, I bring here a young knight, the which is of king's lineage, and of the kindred of Joseph of Arimathea, whereby the marvels of this court, and of strange realms, shall be fully accomplished."
The king was right glad of his words, and said unto the good man: "Sir, ye be right welcome, and the young knight with you." Then the old man made the young man to unarm him, and he was in a coat of red sendal, and bare a mantle upon his shoulder that was furred with ermine, and put that upon him. And the old knight said unto the young knight: "Sir, follow me." And anon he led him unto the Siege Perilous, where beside sat Sir Launcelot; and the good man lift up the cloth, and found there letters that said thus: This is the siege of Galahad, the haut prince.
"Sir," said the old knight, "wit ye well that place is yours." And then he set him down surely in that siege. And then he said to the old man: "Sir, ye may now go your way, for well have ye done that ye were commanded to do; and recommend me unto my grandsire, King Pelles, and unto my lord Petchere, and say them on my behalf, I shall come and see them as soon as ever I may." So the good man departed; and there met him twenty noble squires, and so took their horses and went their way.
Then all the knights of the Table Round marvelled greatly of Sir Galahad, that he durst sit there in that Siege Perilous, and was so tender of age; and wist not from whence he came but all only by God; and said: "This is he by whom the Sangreal shall be achieved, for there sat never none but he, but he were mischieved."
The Grail Appears at the Pentecost Feast
Then the king and all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went to evensong to the great minster, and so after upon that to supper, and every knight sat in his own place as they were tofore-hand. Then anon they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought the place should all to-drive. In the midst of this blast entered a sunbeam more clearer by seven times than ever they saw day, and all they were alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost.
Then began every knight to behold other, and either saw other, by their seeming, fairer than ever they saw afore. Not for then there was no knight might speak one word a great while, and so they looked every man on other as they had been dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail covered with white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who bare it. And there was all the hall fulfilled with good odours, and every knight had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world. And when the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, then the Holy Vessel departed suddenly, that they wist not where it became: then had they all breath to speak.
And then the king yielded thankings to God, of His good grace that he had sent them. "Certes," said the king, "we ought to thank our Lord Jesu greatly for that he hath shewed us this day, at the reverence of this high feast of Pentecost."
Gawaine's Vow and the Knights' Departure
"Now," said Sir Gawaine, "we have been served this day of what meats and drinks we thought on; but one thing beguiled us, we might not see the holy Grail, it was so preciously covered. Wherefore I will make here avow, that to-morn, without longer abiding, I shall labour in the quest of the Sangreal, that I shall hold me out a twelve-month and a day, or more if need be, and never shall I return again unto the court till I have seen it more openly than it hath been seen here; and if I may not speed I shall return again as he that may not be against the will of our Lord Jesu Christ."
When they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they arose up the most part and made such avows as Sir Gawaine had made. Anon as King Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist well they might not again-say their avows. "Alas," said King Arthur unto Sir Gawaine, "ye have nigh slain me with the avow and promise that ye have made; for through you ye have bereft me the fairest fellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever were seen together in any realm of the world; for when they depart from hence I am sure they all shall never meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the quest. And so it forthinketh me a little, for I have loved them as well as my life, wherefore it shall grieve me right sore, the departition of this fellowship: for I have had an old custom to have them in my fellowship."
And therewith the tears fell in his eyes. And then he said: "Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow, for I have great doubt that my true fellowship shall never meet here more again." "Ah," said Sir Launcelot, "comfort yourself; for it shall be unto us a great honour and much more than if we died in any other places, for of death we be sicker." "Ah, Launcelot," said the king, "the great love that I have had unto you all the days of my life maketh me to say such doleful words; for never Christian king had never so many worthy men at his table as I have had this day at the Round Table, and that is my great sorrow."
When the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these tidings, they had such sorrow and heaviness that there might no tongue tell it, for those knights had held them in honour and chivalry. But among all other Queen Guenever made great sorrow. "I marvel," said she, "my lord would suffer them to depart from him." Thus was all the court troubled for the love of the departition of those knights.
And many of those ladies that loved knights would have gone with their lovers; and so had they done, had not an old knight come among them in religious clothing; and then he spake all on high and said: "Fair lords, which have sworn in the quest of the Sangreal, thus sendeth you Nacien, the hermit, word, that none in this quest lead lady nor gentlewoman with him, for it is not to do in so high a service as they labour in; for I warn you plain, he that is not clean of his sins he shall not see the mysteries of our Lord Jesu Christ." And for this cause they left these ladies and gentlewomen.
The Final Departure
And as soon as it was day the king arose, for he had no rest of all that night for sorrow. Then he went unto Gawaine and to Sir Launcelot that were arisen for to hear mass. And then the king again said: "Ah Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have betrayed me; for never shall my court be amended by you, but ye will never be sorry for me as I am for you." And therewith the tears began to run down by his visage.
And therewith the king said: "Ah, knight Sir Launcelot, I require thee thou counsel me, for I would that this quest were undone an it might be." "Sir," said Sir Launcelot, "ye saw yesterday so many worthy knights that then were sworn that they may not leave it in no manner of wise." "That wot I well," said the king, "but it shall so heavy me at their departing that I wot well there shall no manner of joy remedy me." And then the king and the queen went unto the minster.
So anon Launcelot and Gawaine commanded their men to bring their arms. And when they all were armed save their shields and their helms, then they came to their fellowship, which were all ready in the same wise, for to go to the minster to hear their service. Then after the service was done the king would wit how many had undertaken the quest of the Holy Grail; and to account them he prayed them all. Then found they by the tale an hundred and fifty, and all were knights of the Round Table.
And then they put on their helms and departed, and recommended them all wholly unto the queen; and there was weeping and great sorrow. Then the queen departed into her chamber and held her, so that no man should perceive her great sorrows. When Sir Launcelot missed the queen he went to her chamber, and when she saw him she cried aloud: "O Launcelot, Launcelot, ye have betrayed me and put me to the death, for to leave thus my lord." "Ah, madam, I pray you be not displeased, for I shall come again as soon as I may with my worship." "Alas," said she, "that ever I saw you; but he that suffered death upon the cross for all mankind, he be unto you good conduct and safety, and all the whole fellowship."
Right so departed Sir Launcelot, and found his fellowship that abode his coming. And so they mounted upon their horses and rode through the streets of Camelot; and there was weeping of rich and poor, and the king turned away and might not speak for weeping.
III. Idylls of the King — Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1869)
"The Holy Grail" — Narrated by Sir Percivale
The Coming of Galahad
"O brother, saving this Sir Galahad, saw ye none else? we saw not whom he brought?" "He brought a maiden with him, small and slight, and on her hand a sapphire like a star."
"Ay, so there came a damsel with a dwarf, running behind them when they gained the hall, and at the spiritual lily in Galahad, whereat the Master's face, they tell me now, filled with a grave and tranquil tenderness, gave way to tears."
So Galahad when he heard of Merlin's doom, cried, "If I lose myself, I save myself!"
And there came Galahad, and sat down in Merlin's chair. And all the knights at Table Round glanced sideways at the empty chair, and some half-consciously and in half-scorn. But after heaven had open'd on the earth, they all beheld the Holy Grail appear before them all as at the sacring of the mass. So for a month and more the monks maintained the house of God was full of echoing hymns—and of the knights a hundred and fifty more vowed upon oath, if ever they should reach the vision which was promis'd them of old.
The Grail Vision
And there I saw the Holy Grail descend upon the Table Round and go and come three times, and no man spake, but stood aghast, so stiff and still in every limb they were. From high to low they gazed; they could not speak; and then the Holy Grail with fire and flood and rainbow colours and fire without a name pass'd by and vanish'd; in the gleam they saw not the Grail itself—they saw it not—but something veil'd beyond it, as a star might be behind the moon.
"O brother, had you known our Camelot, built by old kings, age after age, so old that one might doubt in any age came those faint glories to behold. Then rose the King and spake, 'My knights,' he said, 'this quest hath made weak eyes blind, but the same shall make all those who shall give credence to the same bring holiest blood to holiest hearts.'"
And some were hurt and maiméd, and some slain. For when the knights had ridden on their way, shouting, they rode into the storm, and each man cried aloud and thought of his own sin. And some were driven mad and some were shamed. And I was driven along a dreary way, until I came upon an open glade where stood a holy chapel.
There arose, in fullest fellowship, a cry—"The Grail! The Grail! Follow," they cried. Gawain and Bors, and Launcelot and Percivale, and Galahad with his pure young strength, rode onward with the rest unto the hills.
Percivale's Account of the Pentecost Vision
At last I heard the voice of Ambrosius: "And there at Pentecost we held the solemn feast, and all the Knights of Arthur's court assembled at the Table; and when we sat at meat, the great doors opened, and all the lights went out at once, and in rushed the red wind from the hills and dash'd the casement open; and then the thunderstroke, and in the blast there smote along the hall a beam of light seven times more clear than day: and down the long beam stole the Holy Grail all over cover'd with a luminous cloud, and none might see who bare it, and it past. But every knight beheld his fellow's face as in a glory, and all the knights arose, and staring each at other like dumb men stood, till I found a voice and sware a vow.
"I sware a vow before them all, that I, because I had not seen the Grail, would ride a twelvemonth and a day in quest of it, until I found and saw it, as the nun my sister saw it; and to all the knights and to the King I sware; and all the knights and all the King, they rose and sware the same."
Then when he ask'd us, knight by knight, if any had seen the Grail, we answer'd, one and all, we had not seen it; then he turn'd to me and ask'd, "But thou, Percivale, sawest thou the Holy Grail?" and I—I could not speak—for I could only see the luminous cloud cover it, moving with it, and the blaze dying behind it, till it had not gone, and when the King again inquir'd of me, I found myself alone, for all the knights had scatter'd, riding on the Grail-quest far, and I was left with him, and we two wept.
"O King, my liege," I answer'd, "it was I that sware the vow, and all the knights have sworn to follow where the Grail shall lead at last; and many of us shall fall, and some shall fail, for not to all is given the grace of God to see the Grail; yet some there be, I ween, who looking on it shall be purified."