ving of the sword, a craving came into his mind to possess
the scabbard. Entering the ship for that purpose, he thrust the sword
into the sheath; but no sooner had he done so than he fell dead beside
the bed. And there his body lay till a maiden entered the ship and cast
it out, for no man could be found hardy enough to set foot on that fatal
deck."

The three knights on hearing this looked earnestly at the scabbard,
which seemed to them made of serpent's skin, while on it was writing in
letters of gold and silver. But the girdle was poor and mean, and ill
suited to so rich a sword. The writing was to this effect: "He who shall
wield me must be hardy of nature. Nor shall he ever be shamed while he
is girt with this girdle; which must never be put away except by the
hands of a maiden and a king's daughter. And she, if she shall ever
cease to be a maid, shall die the most villanous death that woman ever
endured."

"Turn the sword," said Percivale, "that we may see what is on the other
side."

On doing so they found it red as blood, with coal-black letters, which
said: "He that shall praise me most shall find me most to fail him in
time of great need; and to whom I should be most fair shall I prove most
foul. Thus is it ordained."

Then Percivale's sister told them the history of the sword, which was a
very strange and admirable thing to hear. More than once had it been
drawn in modern times; once by Nancien, who afterwards became a hermit,
and in whose hands the sword fell in half, and sorely wounded him in the
foot. Afterwards it was drawn by King Pellam, and it was for this
boldness that he was destined to be deeply wounded by the spear with
which Balin afterwards struck him.

The knights now observed the bed more closely, and saw that above its
head there hung two swords. With them were three strange spindles, one
of which was white as snow, one red as blood, and one as green as
emerald. As they gazed at them with curious wonder, the damsel told a
strange story of the surprising things they had gazed upon. And thus her
story ran.

When mother Eve gathered the fruit for which Adam and she were put out
of Paradise, she took with her the bough on which the apple grew. As it
kept fair and green, and she had no coffer in which to keep it, she
thrust it in the earth, where, by God's will, it took root, and soon
grew to a great tree, whose branches and leaves were as white as milk.
But afterwards, at the time of Abel'