And all the while Sir Launcelot, who saw this wonder, felt himself held that he could not move.  Then a squire brought the stranger knight his weapons, in much joy that his lord was cured.  “Who think ye that this knight may be who remains sleeping when the holy vessel is so near?” said the knight.  “In truth,” said the squire, “he must be one that is held by the bond of some great sin.  I will take his helm and his sword, for here have I brought you all your armour save only these two.”  So the knight armed him from head to foot, and taking Sir Launcelot’s horse, rode away with his squire.  On the instant, Sir Launcelot awoke amazed, not knowing whether he had dreamed or not; but while he wondered, there came a terrible voice, saying:  “Launcelot, arise and leave this holy place.”  In shame, Sir Launcelot turned to obey, only to find horse and sword and shield alike vanished.  Then, indeed, he knew himself dishonoured.  Weeping bitterly, he made the best of his way on foot, until he came to a cell where a hermit was saying prayer.  Sir Launcelot knelt too, and, when all was ended, called to the hermit, entreating him for counsel.  “With good will,” said the hermit.  So Sir Launcelot made himself known and told the hermit all, lamenting how his good fortune was turned to wretchedness and his glory to shame; and truly, the hermit was amazed that Sir Launcelot should be in such case.  “Sir,” said he, “God has given you manhood and strength beyond all other knights; the more are ye bounden to his service.”  “I have sinned,” said Sir Launcelot; “for in all these years of my knighthood, I have done everything for the honour and glory of my lady and naught for my Maker; and little thank have I given to God for all his benefits to me.”  Then the holy man gave Sir Launcelot good counsel and made him rest there that night; and the next day he gave him a horse, a sword and a helmet, and bade him go forth and bear himself knightly as the servant of God.

CHAPTER XXVIII

HOW SIR LAUNCELOT SAW THE HOLY GRAIL

For many days after he had left the hermitage, Sir Launcelot rode through the forest, but there came to him no such adventures as had befallen him on other quests to the increase of his fame.  At last, one night-tide, he came to the shores of a great water and there he lay down to sleep; but as he slept, a voice called on him:  “Launcelot, arise, put on thine armour and go on thy way until thou comest to a ship.  Into that thou shalt enter.”  Immediately, Sir Launcelot started from his sleep to obey and, riding along the shore, came presently to a ship beached on the strand; no sooner had he entered it, than the ship was launched—­how, he might not know.  So the ship sailed before the wind for many a day.  No mortal was on it, save only Sir Launcelot, yet were all his needs supplied.  Then, at last, the ship ran ashore at the foot of a great castle; and it was midnight.  Sir Launcelot