minds him of Gonemans' counsel not to speak or inquire too much. Two more squires enter, holding each a ten-branched candlestick, and with them a damsel, a "graal" in her hands. The graal shines so that it puts out the light of the candles as the sun does that of the stars. Thereafter follows a damsel holding a (silver) plate. All defile past between the fire and the couch, but Perceval does not venture to ask wherefore the graal is used. Supper follows, and the graal is again brought, and Perceval, knowing not its use, had fain asked, but always refrains when he thinks of Gonemans, and finally puts off his questions till the morrow. After supper the guest is led to his chamber, and on the morrow, awakening, finds the castle deserted. No one answers his calls. Issuing forth he finds his horse saddled and the drawbridge down. Thinking to find the castle dwellers in the forest he rides forth, but the drawbridge closes so suddenly behind him that had not the horse leapt quickly forward it had gone hard with steed and rider. In vain Perceval calls: none answer. (8) He pricks on and comes to an oak, beneath which sits a maid holding a dead knight in her arms and lamenting over him. She asks him where he has passed the night, and on learning it tells him the fisher who had directed him to the castle and his host were one and the same; wounded by a spear thrust through both thighs his only solace is in fishing, whence he is called the Fisher King. She asks, had Perceval seen the bleeding lance, the graal, and the silver dish? had he asked their meaning? No; then what is his name? He does not know it, but she guesses it: Perceval le Gallois; but it should be Perceval the Caitiff, for had he asked concerning what he saw, the good king would have been made whole again, and great good have sprung therefrom. He has also a heavy sin on his conscience in that his mother died of grief when he left her. She herself is his cousin. Perceval asks concerning the dead knight, and learning it is her lover offers to revenge her upon his slayer. In return she tells him about the sword, how it will fly in pieces if he have not care of it, and how it may be made whole again by dipping it in a lake, near which dwells its maker, the smith Trebucet. (9) Perceval leaves his cousin and meets, riding on a wretched horse, a scantily and shabbily clad woman of miserable appearance, lamenting her hard fate and unjust treatment. She is the lady of the tent whose ring Perceval had carried off. She bids him fly her husband, the Orgellous de la Lande. The latter appears, challenges Perceval, but is overcome by him, convinced of his wife's innocence, compelled to take her into favour again, and both must go to Arthur's court, relate the whole story, and renew Perceval's promise to the damsel whom Kex had struck, to avenge her. Arthur, when he hears of the deeds of the young hero, sets forth with his whole court to seek him. (10) Snow has fallen, and a flock of wild geese, blinded by the snow, has had one of its number wounded by a falcon. Three blood drops have fallen on the snow, and Perceval beholding them falls into deep thought on the red and white in his love's face. Arthur and his knights come up with him. Saigremors sees him first, bids him come, and, when he answers no word, tilts against
