The Legend of The Holy Grail Selection

The Legend of the Holy Grail
The Legend of the Holy Grail Merlin had assigned specific seats to the knights of the Round Table. Then he had disclosed that the conspicuous gap inscribed Seat Perilous could be filled solely by the most illustrious knight in the world. That knight, not yet born, must achieve maximum perfection in all aspects of chivalry, he asserted. Only he could achieve the greatest exploit of all by surpassing his comrades in the quest for the Holy Grail and terminating the prolonged search. An ancient tradition recounted that just prior to Jesus Christs being brutally scourged and crucified, he initiated the ceremony, or rite, of the Last Supper with his twelve disciples. To each one he gave bread and a draught of wine
at his last supper with them. The wine was served in a glistening gold vessel which became known as the Holy Grail. The legend affirmed that Christ gave the Holy Grail to a pious follower, Joseph of Arimathea. It was Joseph who had crouched in anguished grief on the trampled turf beneath Christs ghastly cross on Mount Calvary. There he captured the blood that trickled from the limp, slumping body into the Holy Grail. It was this same Joseph of Arimathea who contrived to beguile the numb and battered body of Christ from Pontius Pilate, the eminent Roman official. Joseph had laid the body tenderly in his own burial vault. According to the Bible, when the mists rose on Easter morning, the massive slab before the
entry to the tomb had been tugged aside, and the body had vanished. Christ was said to have appeared alive to his disciples before he ascended into heaven. He spurred them on to traverse alien lands and to proclaim his gospel to all nations. Despite violent clashes in antagonistic heathen dominions, the Christian crusade forged ahead triumphantly in many areas, including King Arthurs realm. In those remote times there existed only one international church, doctrine, and creed. The ceremony of the Last Supper, called the Mass, was celebrated precisely as it had been instituted. King Arthur and his contemporaries of the Round Table often pledged their allegiance in this ceremony in the cathedral at Camelot.
The legends recount that through many generations the descendants of Joseph of Arimathea were automatically entitled to maintain custody of the Holy Grail. One descendant was said to have ferried across the Channel and to have transported the sacred vessel to England. There it was kept in a domed chamber in the gloomy cavernous Castle of Carbonek. It was said that the Grail was long visible to pious and reverent pilgrims. It bestowed unique and miraculous blessings upon the realm where it was kept. But then one descendant of Joseph was alleged to have become grossly unworthy of his privileged responsibility. Abruptly the Holy Grail became invisible to mortal eyes. Simultaneously, evil times descended upon
England. Now the only alternative for King Arthurs dedicated knights of the Round Table was to sally forth and embark on a quest for the Holy Grail. They aspired thereby to restore perpetual harmony and accord to King Arthurs realm. The quest for the Grail was about to commence, but initially, the perfect knight would have to make his dramatic appearance. Galahad Comes to the Round Table The knights of the Round Table often embarked on prolonged pilgrimages in search of adventure. It was traditional for the full corps to drift back to Camelot at the festival of Pentecost, the seventh Sunday after Easter. On that day, they were seated in the lofty, domed castle hall. A strange damsel was seen alighting from her steed. She sought entry and timidly beckoned to Sir Lancelot.
I beseech you, my lord, to come with me, she said. To his astonishment, twelve pious females in rustling nuns costumes emerged. They introduced him to a compact, athletic young man with sturdy limbs. Lancelot contemplated this frank, open countenance in amazement. The young man bore a phenomenal resemblance to the more mature Lancelot. This is Galahad, they said. We appeal to you to recommend him to the noble King Arthur. Galahad has been in our custody since infancy. We have groomed him in all aspects of chivalry. He is entitled to be initiated into the noble Order of the Round Table. Lancelot chuckled indulgently, but he was impressed by the youths modesty and poise.
Come tomorrow to Camelot, he said. Our sovereign King Arthur will expect your aspiring candidate to clash his lance against some valiant adversary to demonstrate his talents. The next day the knights resumed their appropriate places at the Round Table. They were astounded to see newly inscribed symbols of glistening gold on the Seat Perilous: FOUR HUNDRED FIFTY-FOUR YEARS AFTER THE CRUCIFIXION OF JESUS CHRIST THIS SEAT IS TO BE FILLED. This must be the fateful day! exclaimed Lancelot. I calculate that this years festival date precisely terminates the 454 years since the tragic crucifixion as recounted in the holy Christian Gospel. All Round Table seats are filled
with the sole exception of the Seat Perilous. Let us conceal this inscription and bide our time until the chosen knight appears. A cloak was flung over the mysterious inscription, and the banquet proceeded in an atmosphere of tense anticipation. Abruptly, the chamber door swung open. A dignified, elderly knight clad in a mantle of gleaming white fabric, entered solemnly. At his side strode young Galahad. Peace be with you, fair lords, said the old man. You and the young knight are welcome, declared King Arthur with gracious cordiality. Follow me, said the old man to Galahad, serenely ignoring the spectators.
The bewildered assembly watched him deliberately lead Galahad to the Seat Perilous. He thrust the garment aside. All were astonished to see that the glittering gold symbols had been replaced by the name GALAHAD. A clamor of excited voices ascended. The old man dramatically seated his young disciple. He confronted King Arthur; the tumult suddenly receded. My lord, he said. I am privileged to convey into your midst Galahad, who is kindred to Joseph of Arimathea. From him you may anticipate marvelous exploits. He is destined to bestow perpetual glory upon the Round Table. We welcome Galahad, interposed Sir Lancelot heartily. We are grateful that he has finally come.
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You should be, my lord, retorted the old knight. Behold your own son, Sir Lancelot! This sensational disclosure of Galahads identity startled the assembly into silence. All eyes focused alternately on Lancelot and Galahad, instantly perceiving the resemblance. Lancelot was as astonished as any of his comrades. Lancelots Memories The disclosure that Galahad was Lancelots son spanned a prolonged gap in the veteran knights memory. His thoughts traversed the years to when he was first initiated into King Arthurs corps of noble knights. He had embarked upon a solitary pilgrimage to seek adventure. As he approached a remote castle,
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he was astounded to discern a throng of people swarming toward him. Welcome, Sir Lancelot! They clamored. We have long heard persistent rumors that the most illustrious of all King Arthurs eminent chivalry is destined to rescue our fair Lady Elaine. Now you have come to foil the wicked queen and to terminate our ladys captivity. What distress plagues her? asked Lancelot. She lies confined in boiling water, was the odd response. Queen Morgan le Fay, envious of her beauty, has cast a spell upon her. She may not be freed until the foremost knight of the realm rescues her.
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Lancelot vaulted from his steed. He strode into the castle and accommodatingly battered down the iron door of the gloomy chamber in which the fair Elaine was captive. He set her upon his steed and gallantly escorted her to Castle Carbonek. There he conveyed her to her grateful father, an incredibly old man clad in the quaint apparel of long ago. Fair knight, what is your name? asked the old man courteously. Sir Lancelot of the Lake, knight of King Arthur. Ah, you are he who was ordained to come, mused the old man mysteriously. I am King Pelles, descended from my renowned ancestor, Joseph of Arimathea, who buried our Lord after his crucifixion, as the Christian Gospels recount.
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He beckoned Lancelot into a stately domed chamber. In the interior was a massive table laden with luxurious food. As Lancelot conversed with King Pelles, a damsel appeared with a gleaming vessel poised in her hands. Lancelots eyes blurred and wavered mistily from the blinding reflection. King Pelles and his disciples fell to their knees. They piously clasped their hands and affirmed their Christian faith. With a faint rustle of her silken costume, the maiden vanished. Lancelot blinked. What does this signify? he cried in bewilderment. You have been accorded the privilege of a glimpse of the Holy Grail, said King Pelles reverently. My kindred have perpetual custody of the sacred vessel in this shrine of Carbonek.
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He did not offer to elaborate his explanation of the phenomenon. That night, beguiled by soothing harmony, Lancelot felt his sturdy limbs gradually grow numb. He drifted into a profound slumber. When he regained his senses, he realized that a long span of time had apparently been condensed for him by some magic enchantment into one night. To his astonishment, the Lady Elaine now obviously assumed that he was her husband. His amazement mounted when she proudly exhibited an infant son whom she declared was theirs. Surely you contrived some jest with this absurd allegation! he cried in embarrassed dismay. I have solemnly pledged my homage and devotion to one lady, only to our sovereign Queen Guinevere.
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Elaine shyly diverted his persistent questions. She serenely assured him he would soon recover his memory and adjust himself to his new role. Lancelot now recalled how perplexed and furious he had been. He had wrathfully arrayed himself in his armor, flung himself upon his steed, and sallied forth, despite the anguished wails of the frantic Elaine. Now, only after many years, he vividly recalled that memorable incident. And only now did he recall specifically the name by which the mother had affectionately referred to the newly christened infant: GALAHAD!
Sir Galahad Acquires a Sword
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The knights of the Round Table again resumed their places and focused their attention upon the luxuriously laden banquet table. Sire, if we proceed now, we violate our tradition of invariably witnessing some memorable adventure ere we eat at the festival of Pentecost. As Sir Kay volunteered this reminder, a panting squire burst into the chamber. He conveyed tidings of an astounding marvel. A rustle of anticipation made its circuit around the table. And what may this alleged marvel be? Disclose it, decreed King Arthur. It is affirmed that a massive stone slab drifts on the river, gasped the squire. A
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glistening sword adorned with gems is thrust into it! The assembly instantly adjourned. The knights were joined by Queen Guinivere and her elegantly costumed ladies. And indeed, they presently discerned the stone and sword miraculously floating in the channel beneath the bridge that spanned the river. On the stone appeared an inscription in quaint gold symbols: NO MAN SHALL TAKE ME EXCEPT THE BEST KNIGHT IN THE WORLD! All the knights clamored simultaneously to try. Sir Lancelot, said King Arthur, as the tumult trickled into reluctant silence,
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withdraw the sword. Surely you are deemed the sovereign knight in all the world. Nay, responded Lancelot soberly. This is no trifling or jesting matter. This sword is surely linked to the Holy Grail. I am not destined to wield it. I am a sinful man and merit no such privilege. Gawain and kindred knights then exerted all their might, essaying to extract the sword, but all were foiled in the attempt. They swarmed about the glittering weapon, contemplating it in vexed perplexity. Then Galahad modestly declared: Sire, I am destined to perform this role. My scabbard is empty. I am entitled to venture this challenge.
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He vaulted casually from his steed and strode forward. He clenched the gleaming blade and withdrew it with ridiculous ease. The eyes of his veteran comrades blinked in amazement, but they automatically bestowed hearty applause upon the athletic young knight. All knew that his feat signified greater glory for the Round Table. Then King Arthur ordained a great tournament that would accommodate this entire corps of valiant knights. With picturesque pageantry they assembled on an immense tract of well-trampled turf in the vicinity of the stately castle. One renowned knight clashed in single combat with another. Then there ensued a marvelous demonstration of knightly chivalry with lance and sword. Contrary to custom, young Sir Galahad used no shield to divert his adversaries lances. Clad in
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his sparkling armor, he spurred his steed with astonishing poise against his more mature rivals. He contrived to batter down the most formidable opponent with his unerring lance. Despite his handicap, he vanquished all who confronted him, with the sole exception of Sir Lancelot. The gallant veteran obstinately refused to sally forth to compete with his son. By the Mass! chuckled King Arthur mirthfully, with a twinkle in his eye. The glory of the Round Table will not be diminished one particle by our new comrade. He is endowed with the talent of his illustrious father, though he acquired it while in the custody of pious nuns in a convent. The Quest for the Holy Grail
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King Arthur and the 150 knights of the Round Table proceeded in a stately procession to the cathedral in Camelot. There they attended Mass as they invariably did on the festival of Pentecost. Then they returned to the Round Table for supper, each knight accommodated in his assigned place. Suddenly there was a stunning clash of thunder. It exerted such tremendous force that the massive walls and substantial pillars of the castle quivered violently. A cylindrical beam of blinding light illuminated the chamber more brilliantly than glittering sunlight. The knights stared numbly at one another in sheer amazement. Each bronzed countenance gleamed more fairly than ever before. Suddenly they discerned a vessel covered by a cloth of elegant fabric. It appeared to drift mysteriously through the atmosphere and
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vanished in the twinkling of an eye. A delicate odor of crisp blossoms was diverted softly to their sensitive nostrils. Before their blinking eyes the table was suddenly laden with delicious food. The perplexed silence was abruptly terminated by a voice speaking in awe, It is the Holy Grail. There was a sudden clamor of animated conversation. Sir Gawain focused a stern eye grimly upon his comrades. We were not privileged to see the Holy Grail exposed. It signifies that we have erred by trifling away our time on petty adventures. I affirm this solemn vow. Tomorrow I embark upon a quest for the Holy Grail. I shall not return from my pilgrimage until I achieve
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custody of it on behalf of my sovereign, King Arthur. The Grail will endow this realm with miraculous blessings. The other knights sprang up impulsively and applauded Gawain simultaneously. They linked arms and enthusiastically pledged themselves to assume similar roles as knights errant. The crusade would become a joint venture of the entire corps. Alas, Sir Gawain, groaned King Arthur, slumping gloomily into his seat. I fear you will deprive this dominion of the most illustrious and formidable assembly of chivalry this world has ever seen. I suspect that many are ordained never to return from this perilous quest. On the ensuing day, the king rose early, for he had no repose or slumber that night.
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Lancelot and Gawain both marshaled their kinsmen and the various other valiant knights. They instructed them to don their armor and assemble their weapons. The compact company of 150 knights adjourned to the cathedral for a final blessing prior to their departure. Then Queen Guinevere and the fair damsels of King Arthurs court wept and mourned when the sad tidings were disclosed. The knights solemnly mounted their steeds and rode mutely through the streets of Camelot. There was anguished weeping and wailing from the gallery of melancholy spectators who lined the picturesque streets to witness the memorable departure. A solitary figure was poised silently on the lofty terrace of the castle, peering at the receding column. The vivid colors of the fluttering pennants on the knights upraised
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lances blazed in the sun. They gradually blended together as King Arthurs eyes misted and blurred into a trickle of tears. At last the eminent band disappeared behind a distant ridge. King Arthur sighed, then shrugged in weary resignation. He strode automatically into his desolate chamber. The desperate and perilous quest of the Holy Grail had commenced. Sir Galahad Acquires a Shield The knights of the Round Table dispersed, drifting in various directions in quest of the Holy Grail. Many roamed afar on pilgrimages in remote and alien realms. Sir Galahad roved abroad four days without a solitary adventure. At dusk, he sought access to a quaint old monastery. He found two knights already accommodated there. The fluttering pennants
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on their lances disclosed their identities. They were Sir Bagdemagus and Sir Uwaine, both nephews of King Arthur. Sirs, said Sir Galahad. What adventure has beckoned you to this forlorn vicinity? We had tidings of a shield that exerts astounding power, said Sir Uwaine. It is alleged that only one knight is entitled to the privilege of acquiring it. All others, it is affirmed, will invariably be penalized if they venture to wield it. I will essay it, said Sir Bagdemagus, though I would exaggerate grossly if I assumed the role of the worlds most formidable knight. The shield was glistening white, spanned by a vivid scarlet cross. Sir Bagdemagus vaulted
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into his saddle and sallied forth with it on the ensuing morning. After traversing but a short distance, he discerned a bronzed stranger lurking in the rustling foliage of a nearby thicket. The stranger was clad in elegant white armor and his lance was poised menacingly. Both knights simultaneously adjusted their helmets and mutely signified their readiness for the clash. They animated their steeds and launched themselves forward. The White Knight diverted his antagonists lance, but his own weapon mysteriously penetrated the red cross shield. Sir Bagdemagus, stunned and perplexed, was battered to the turf with ridiculous ease. Beware, Sir Knight, said the White Knight in stern and solemn accents. You have erred and committed a profound folly. The unique shield you bear is ordained for the greatest knight in the world.
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Despite his acute agony, the vanquished Bagdemagus hastily dispatched his squire to Sir Galahad with the shield. The latter hoisted it to his shoulder and embarked upon pursuit of the White Knight. He soon encountered him reposing in a hut tenanted by a hermit. Sir Knight, recount to me the mystery of this shield, bade Sir Galahad courteously. Sir, declared the knight, Joseph of Arimathea, who removed our crucified Lords corpse from the cross, departed from Jerusalem to the city of Sarras. There he contrived to convert the heathen King Evelake to the Christian Gospel. When Sarras was besieged by the foe, Joseph loaned King Evelake a marvelous shield, covered with lustrous silk fabric. King Evelake achieved a
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memorable triumph and foiled the invaders. After the conflict had terminated, the king removed the cover. He beheld a crucifix blended into the surface. When his wounded warriors touched it, they were automatically healed, for the shield was endowed with miraculous power. When Joseph immigrated to England with his kindred, King Evelake crossed the Channel with him. Later the pious Joseph suffered from a fatal bleeding illness. As he lay slumped upon his deathbed, dazed and numb, his griefstricken disciple beseeched his patron for some trifling token of their devoted friendship. Joseph instructed him where to find the miraculous shield. Clutching it feebly, Joseph illuminated the cross with the blood that trickled from his limbs.
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Retain the shield in your custody, Joseph commanded. It is destined for my last descendant, Sir Galahad, the perfect knight! You have the shield, Sir Galahad. With these words the White Knight vanished. Sir Gawain Fails the Quest Like the other knights of the Round Table, Sir Gawain roamed alone in quest of the Holy Grail, drifting into remote and alien areas of the realm. To his disgust, he encountered no adventures of more than trifling significance. After a span of weary months had ensued, he met Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lancelots kinsman. Sir Ector, too, was acutely disgusted. He
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disclosed that he had traversed far and wide without a glimpse of the Grail. Truly, muttered Sir Gawain discontentedly, I am well nigh weary of this wretched quest. I yearn no longer to rove about in desolate and inaccessible provinces of King Arthurs dominions. I have seen approximately a score of our comrades, declared Sir Ector. They invariably volunteer the identical grievance that we do. I have had no contact nor tidings of Lancelot or Galahad since our gallant corps dispersed at Camelot. Sir Gawain and Sir Ector forged grimly ahead for eight days. Then they blundered upon a forlorn, untenanted chapel. They entered jointly, said their prayers, and promptly fell into relaxed slumber. Both awakened
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simultaneously, endeavoring to adapt their dazed eyes to the gloomy interior. Abruptly they discerned a hand wielding a bridle and a gleaming candle that momentarily illuminated the chapel. As they stared in amazement, they heard a crisp voice penetrate the solitude. Alas, erring knights of little faith! These symbols, the bridle and candle, signify your unworthiness. You will not be privileged to encounter the Holy Grail. The stunned knights blinked at each other in perplexed agitation. Sir Ector, did you hear that? asked Sir Gawain. Truly, I did, assented Sir Ector. Let us seek some monastery, or at least some holy
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nun or sage hermit to ascertain what this memorable revelation means. Accordingly, they hoisted their weary limbs upon their steeds and rode mutely onward. Presently they encountered a stranger. They inquired courteously whether any holy man or Christian hermit might be found in the vicinity. The stranger pointed to a rude path leading through a dense thicket to the ridge of a mountain. There resides Nacien, the pious hermit, who is affirmed to be the holiest man in the country, he asserted. The knights linked their bridles over a bough and trampled their way through the reeds. They came to a crude hut concealed in the rustling foliage of a grove of trees. An elderly man clad
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in a quaint costume greeted them hospitably. He agreed to accommodate them by hearing their confessions and counseling them as adequately as he could. When they had recounted their astounding story, he responded in solemn accents. The bridle symbolizes the sensitive restraint that a true knight must perpetually exert upon himself. As a bride restrains an animated steed, so must sinful mortals restrain themselves from temptation and the sin that automatically blossoms from it. The candle symbolizes the truth and honor to which a knight must dedicate himself. Gawain digested this pious lecture in silence. Sir , said Gawain, I conclude that we have no alternative but to terminate our pilgrimage.
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Be not dismayed. It is ordained that many esteemed knights will fail in this formidable enterprise, responded the hermit soberly. There be not many that are endowed with the zeal and reverence that are required to see that sacred symbol of the crucifixion. Sir Lancelot Fails the Quest Sir Lancelot was optimistic about achieving some contact with the Holy Grail. Instead of roaming aimlessly, he sought again the isolated Castle of Carbonek, where custody of the Grail was maintained. Approaching that forlorn vicinity, he heard a crisp voice from the foliage of a nearby thicket.
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Beware, Lancelot! Enter humbly, and you will be accorded some revelation of what you seek. Lancelot automatically adjusted the visor of his helmet. He unsheathed his sword, wielded it, and rode animatedly forward. Suddenly some crude, mysterious force was exerted upon him. It struck his limbs a stunning buffet. The glittering weapon clattered from his numbed fingers. Alas, valiant knight of little faith! Why do you invariably err by relying upon your weapons more than upon your Christian faith? said the mysterious voice in reproachful accents. Lancelot relaxed, dismounted, and sheathed his sword. He entered the castle and roved from one untenanted chamber to the other, for the doors were all open. A perplexing solitude reigned. At last he encountered one that was
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closed. Cautiously he opened it a trifle. Now he could hear the blended sounds of harmony being softly dispersed. From the domed gallery drifted an exquisite voice singing a sacred hymn. Then the chapel door opened abruptly. A blinding light illuminated the area as if all the torches in the universe had been simultaneously ignited. Lancelot stepped timidly to the threshold, endeavoring to focus his blinking eyes on the interior. Do not intervene, Lancelot, declared the voice. It is not ordained that you have access to this shrine. Lancelot restrained himself, but stared in beguiled fascination, digesting the dramatic scene that ensued. There was an elegant table
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of silver. The Holy Grail reposed upon it, covered by quaint silken fabric. Scores of stately figures that Lancelot assumed to be angels hovered above the table. One clutched a gleaming candle. Another grasped a crucifix, and a third clenched the glistening altar ornaments. Before the Grail stood a holy man, piously performing the rite of the Mass. Suspended above the holy man were three figures. They were apparently sustained by his poised arms, as if he were exhibiting them to the spectators. Instinctively wishing to help, Lancelot blundered across the threshold. A formidable blast battered him like a violent gale in a tempest and flung him headlong. Vaguely he felt many hands jointly hoisting him and conveying him from the chamber.
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Lancelot lay like a corpse for a span of approximately a month. When he revived, he ascertained that he was still in the gloomy Castle of Carbonek. With melancholy discontent he bade farewell to his elderly kinsman, King Pelles. He donned his armor to return to Camelot, there to disclose his pessimistic tidings to his sovereign, King Arthur. Grudgingly he was obliged to concede that his aspirations had been optimistically exaggerated. Not even the illustrious Lancelot could assume the role of achieving the Holy Grail. The End of the Quest
After Sir Galahad rode optimistically forth from Camelot, he, contrary to the others, had scores of hazardous adventures. Wielding his
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knightly weapons with chivalrous gallantry on behalf of the oppressed, he contributed significantly to the glory of the Round Table. At length he encountered his kinsmen, Sir Percival and Sir Bors. Like Lancelot, they had blundered into the forlorn and isolated Castle of Carbonek. There they had witnessed the same wonders of the Grail that Lancelot had. But the mysterious custodian of the Grail, King Pelles, notified Sir Percival, Sir Bors, and Sir Galahad that they were to be assigned dramatic roles in the destiny of the sacred vessel. You are to navigate a vessel to the ancient city of Sarras, fair knights. Alas, the Grail may tarry no longer in King Arthurs realm of England, he declared in melancholy accents. The widely heralded era of Christian chivalry
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will now terminate. Unbridled violence and tragedy will stalk abroad in the land. Galahad, valiant descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, we rely upon you and your comrades to transport the Holy Grail to other dominions. You must sheathe your weapons and adapt yourselves to becoming pilgrims. The disclosure of this pessimistic revelation stunned the loyal knights, but they had no alternative except to obey. They boarded the crude vessel and hoisted the fluttering sails. As they strode over the threshold of the ships chamber, they instantly discerned again the fragrant odor of blossoms in the interior. They discovered that the elegant silver altar and the covered Grail had been mysteriously conveyed on board by unseen hands. Buffered by gales
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and tides, the mariners cruised at length to the city of Sarras. There the Christian immigrants were questioned suspiciously by that citys heathen monarch. They frankly recounted to him the fascinating story of the miraculous Grail. The incredulous sovereign denounced their story as fantastic and exaggerated fiction. The three were flung headlong into an isolated dungeon and abandoned to starve. But amazingly, the three dungeon tenants were, by some miraculous device, heartily nourished while in solitary confinement. Then the king was stricken with an acute attack of a fatal disease. Having ascertained that he would positively perish, he superstitiously relaxed his antagonism toward them. As a gesture of
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repentance, he grudgingly released the three alien captives. The agitated inhabitants of Sarras were in immense awe of the three mysterious strangers. Clamoring for the nomination of a new monarch, they enthusiastically polled their ballots for Sir Galahad. The new sovereign now constructed a luxurious shrine to house the Grail. The people of Sarras were converted to the Christian doctrines and fostered the new faith piously. Sarras became renowned as a holy Christian city. But Sir Galahads discontent with the dreary world of sinful mortals grew, and he yearned to enter the more exalted sphere of a heavenly existence. Sensing that his span of life would soon terminate, he instructed Sir Bors to
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convey tidings of the Grail to King Arthur and Sir Lancelot. Then as he kneeled for the last time before the Grail, a misty vapor descended into the chapel. A sudden blaze of radiant light abruptly illuminated the chamber. When the mist was dispersed, the rigid, inanimate corpse of Sir Galahad lay on the floor, a serene smile upon his countenance. The Holy Grail had vanished, never to be seen again by mortal eyes. The quest of the Grail was over.

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The Legend of the Holy Grail