air sister," he replied, "happy am I, indeed, to know you. As for the
ship, I shall not fail to enter it. If I prove an untrue knight or a
misbeliever, then let me perish."

As they spoke, Galahad blessed himself and entered the ship, and after
him came the lady, and then Bors and Percivale. On reaching the deck
they found it so marvellously fair and rich that they stood in wonder.
In the midst of the ship was a noble bed; and when Galahad went thither
he found on it a crown of silk. Below this lay a sword, half drawn from
its scabbard, the pommel being of stone of many colors. The scales of
the haft were of the ribs of two beasts. One beast was a serpent, known
in Calidone as the serpent of the fiend; and its bone had the magic
virtue that the hand which touched it should never be weary or hurt. The
other beast was a fish, that haunted the flood of Euphrates, its name
Ertanax; its bone had the virtue that he who handled it should not think
on the joys and sorrows of his past life, but only of that which he then
beheld. And no man could grasp this sword but the one who passed all
others in might and virtue.

"In the name of God," said Percivale, "I shall seek to handle it."

But in vain he tried, he could not grasp the magic hilt. No more could
Bors, who attempted it in his turn. Then Galahad approached, and as he
did so saw written on the sword in letters like blood, "He who draweth
me has peril to endure. His body shall meet with shame, for he shall be
wounded to the death."

"By my faith, the risk is too great," said Galahad. "I shall not set my
hand to so fatal a blade."

"That you must," said the lady. "The drawing of this sword is forbidden
to all men, save you. No one can draw back from that which destiny
commands."

Then she told a marvellous story of that strange blade.

"When this ship arrived in the realm of England," she said, "there was
deadly war between King Labor and King Hurlame, who was a christened
Saracen. Here they fought one day by the sea-side, and Hurlame was
defeated and his men slain. Then he fled into this ship, drew the sword
which he saw here, and with one stroke smote King Labor and his horse in
twain. But a fatal stroke it proved, for with it there came harm and
pestilence to all this realm. Neither corn nor grass would grow, fruit
failed to ripen, the waters held no fish, and men named this the waste
land of the two marches. Nor did King Hurlame escape. When he saw the
strange car