In the clear light

Of the fire, [Perceval] could see, behind him,

The page in charge of his weapons

And armor, and handed him

The sword, to hold with the rest.

And then he rejoined his host,

Who’d done him so great an honor.

They sat in a hall lit

As brightly as candles can make

An indoor room. And as

They chatted of this and that,

A servant entered the hall,

Carrying – his hand at its center –

A white lance. He came out

Of a room, then walked between

The fire and those seated

On the bed, and everyone saw

The white wood, and the white

Spearhead, and the drop of blood

That rolled slowly down

From the iron point until

It reached the servant’s hand.

The boy saw that wondrous

Sight, the night he arrived there,

But kept himself from asking

What it might mean, for he’d never

Forgotten – as his master at arms

Had warned him, over and over –

He was not to talk too much.

To question his host or his servants

Might well be vulgar or rude,

And so he held his tongue.

And then two other servants

Entered, carrying golden

Candleholders worked

With enamel. They were wonderfully handsome

Boys, and the candleholders

They each clasped in their hands

Bore at least ten

Burning candles. A girl

Entered with them, holding

A grail-dish in both her hands –

A beautiful girl, elegant,

Extremely well dressed. And as

She walked into the hall,

Holding this grail, it glowed

With so great a light that the candles

Suddenly seemed to grow dim,

Like the moon and stars when the sun

Appears in the sky. Then another

Girl followed the first one,

Bearing a silver platter.

The grail that led the procession

Was made of the purest gold,

Studded with jewels of every

Kind, the richest and most costly

Found on land or sea.

No one could ever doubt that here

Were the loveliest jewels on earth.

Just as they’d done before,

When carrying the lance, the servants

passed in front of the knight,

Then went to another room.

And the boy watched them, not daring

To ask why or to whom

This grail was meant to be served,

For his heart was always aware

Of his wise old master’s warnings.

But I fear his silence may hurt him,

For I’ve often heard it said

That talking too little can do

As much damage as talking too much.

Yet, for better or worse,

He never said a word.

The lord of the castle ordered

Water brought and tablecloths

Spread, and those whose work

This was did what had

To be done. Then host and guest

Washed their hands in mildly

Warmed water, and two servants

Brought in a large ivory tabletop

(The book where one reads this story

Says it was all of one piece).

They held it there a moment,

As the two noblemen watched,

While two other servants

Brought in wooden supports

(Fashioned, we’re told, of timber

Made totally indestructible

For two remarkable reasons:

They’d been carved of ebony, and this wood

Never decays or burns,

So neither possible danger

Could ever occur). Then they set

The ivory top over

The supports, and spread out the tablecloths.

What can I say of these cloths?

Ambassadors – cardinals – popes:

None could command such whiteness.

Their first course was a haunch

Of rich venison, in pepper

Sauce; they drank their clear

Wine from golden cups.

The roasted meat was sliced

Right in front of the diners

(The whole haunch having

Been carved on that silver platter),

And served, to host and guest,

On well-baked breadlike shells.

Meanwhile, the wonderful grail

Was carried back and forth,

But again the boy was silent,

Not asking to whom it was served.

And again it was thoughts of his master

Which kept him from speaking, for he never

Forgot how clearly he’d been warned

To beware of too much talking.

And so he stayed silent too long.

With every course, the grail

Was borne back and forth,

Uncovered, plainly visible,

And still he did not know why.

Although he wished to know

He told himself he’d surely

Make some safe inquiry

Before he left; someone

Would tell him. He’d wait until morning,

When he was taking leave of the lord

Of this castle and all who served him.

And so he postponed his questions,

And simple ate and drank.

There was no shortage of food

Or wine, not at that table;

He dined in delight, and enjoyed it.

They ate exceedingly well:

The lord of the castle served

What kings and counts and emperors

Are supposed to eat, and the boy

Sat at the table beside him.

And then, when dinner was done,

They spent the rest of the evening

Talking. Then servants prepared

Their beds and brought in exotic

Fruit for their final repast –

Figs and dates, nutmeg,

Cloves, pomegranates,

And finally a healthy honey

Paste of Alexandrian

Ginger and other digestive

Herbs that help the stomach

And soothe and calm the nerves.

They drank assorted fine

Liqueurs, neither sharp nor sweetened,

And well-aged wine, and clear

Syrup. The boy was astonished;

He’d never heard of such things.

Then his host [the Fisher King] said, “My friend,

It’s time we went to bed

For the night. If you’ve no objections,

I’ll sleep in my own room,

And whenever you wish to, you can sleep

Here. I cannot walk,

So they’ll have to carry me out.”

Then four strong and lively

Men came into the hall;

Each one grasped a corner

Of the bed the lord lay on,

And picking him up, carried him

There where he needed to be.

Other servants stayed

With the boy, to attend to his wants,

And gave him whatever he needed,

And when he wished to sleep

They took off his shoes and his clothes

And laid him in the finest linens

And blankets. And he slept until morning –

Indeed, till the sun was well up

And the servants were bustling about.

But looking around, he saw

None were in the room

Near him, so he had to rise

Unassisted. This was annoying,

But he saw it had to be done

And did it, alone, as best

He could, shoes and all,

Then went to fetch his armor,

Which someone had brought and left

On top of a table. Once

His clothing and equipment were in place,

He tried the doors to other

Rooms, all open the night

Before, but wasted his time,

For now they were locked. He banged

And called as loud as he could,

But nothing was opened and no one

Responded. Tired of shouting,

He went to the hall’s main door

And, finding it open, descended

The stairs. Coming to the bottom,

He found his horse, all saddled,

And saw his lance and his sword

Leaning against a wall.

Mounting, he looked in every

Direction and still saw no one:

No soldiers, no pages, no serving

Men. Glancing to his right,

Toward the gate, he saw the drawbridge

Had been lowered and left unguarded;

He could enter, and he

Could leave, whenever he liked,

Needing no permission.

The household servants, he thought,

Had probably gone to the woods,

Checking snares and traps,

And left the drawbridge down.

He wanted to waste no more time,

But thought he might just ride

Behind them a bit, to ask,

If he could, why the lance

Dripped blood (was some sorrow involved?)

And why they’d borne the grail.

He rode right out the gate.

But just as he got to the end

Of the drawbridge, he felt his horse’s

Hind feet rise in the air,

And the horse make a swift leap –

And had the animal jumped

Less well, they both might have been

Hurt, horse and rider

Alike. Turning around,

Anxious to see what had happened,

He saw the drawbridge had been raised.

He called, but no one answered:

“You! You who raised

The bridge, come out here! Talk to me!

How come I can’t see you?

Step forward, let me see you!

There’s something I want to ask you,

Something I want to know.”

He spoke like a fool: no one

Answered, and no one would –

So he rode into the forest,

Following a path that showed

Signs of fresh hoofmarks,

A horse that had gone before him.

“That,” he said to himself,

“Must be the fellow I’m hunting.”

– Chrétien de Troyes, Perceval: The Story of the Grail (Perceval, le Conte du Graal),

translated by Burton Raffel, lines 3181-3428

Also read: Perceval: The Story of the Grail, Chrétien de Troyes, The Holy Grail

Read the other Great Myths here