ng nor prince is known better
learned of all courtesy nor of all largesse than he, so he would do
like as he was wont." With that the knights hold their peace, and King
Arthur goeth away a great pace. And he entereth into a great forest
adventurous, and rideth the day long until he cometh about evensong
into the thick of the forest. And he espied a little house beside a
little chapel, and it well seemed him to be a hermitage. King Arthur
rode thitherward and alighteth before this little house, and entereth
thereinto and draweth his horse after him, that had much pains to enter
in at the door, and laid his spear down on the ground and leant his
shield against the wall, and hath ungirded his sword and unlaced his
ventail. He looked before him and saw barley and provender, and so led
his horse thither and smote off his bridle, and afterwards hath shut
the door of the little house and locked it. And it seemed him that
there was a strife in the chapel. The ones were weeping so tenderly
and sweetly as it were angels, and the other spake so harshly as it
were fiends. The King heard such voices in the chapel and marvelled
much what it might be. He findeth a door in the little house that
openeth on a little cloister whereby one goeth to the chapel. The King
is gone thither and entereth into the little minster, and looketh
everywhere but seeth nought there, save the images and the crucifixes.
And he supposeth not that the strife of these voices cometh of them.
The voices ceased as soon as he was within. He marvelleth how it came
that this house and hermitage were solitary, and what had become of the
hermit that dwelt therein. He drew nigh the altar of the chapel and
beheld in front thereof a coffin all discovered, and he saw the hermit
lying therein all clad in his vestments, and seeth the long beard down
to his girdle, and his hands crossed upon his breast. There was a
cross above him, whereof the image came as far as his mouth, and he had
life in him yet, but he was nigh his end, being at the point of death.
The King was before the coffin a long space, and looked right fainly on
the hermit, for well it seemed him that he had been of a good life.
The night was fully come, but within was a brightness of light as if a
score of candles were lighted. He had a mind to abide there until that
the good man should have passed away. He would fain have sate him down
before the coffin, when a voice warned him right horribly to beg