“Not knowing he should die a holy man.”

And in another place the long account of his confession, absolution, contrition, and the exhortation of the priest is slurred over in these words relating to the poisonous weeds that twined and clung round the wholesome flowers of his life: 

“Then I spake
To one most holy saint, who wept and said
That save they could be plucked asunder all
My quest were but in vain; to whom I vowed
That I would work according as he willed.”

If we compare this with what Malory said, we shall see the total inadequacy of Tennyson’s treatment of the episode which left out the whole root of the matter:—­

How Sir Lancelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made, and of the good examples that were showed him.

Then Sir Lancelot wept with heavy cheer and said, “Now I know well ye say me sooth.”  “Sir,” said the good man, “hide none old sin from me.”  “Truly,” said Sir Lancelot, “that were me full loth to discover.  For this fourteen years I never discovered one thing that I have used and to that may I now blame my shame and my misadventure.”  And then he told there, that good man, all his life, and how he had loved a queen unmeasurably, and out of measure long;—­“and all my great deeds of arms that I have done I did the most part for the queen’s sake, and for her sake would I do battle, were it right or wrong, and never did I battle all only for God’s sake, but for to win worship and to cause me to be the better beloved, and little or nought I thanked God of it.”  Then Sir Lancelot said, “I pray you counsel me.”  “I will counsel you,” said the hermit, “if ye will ensure me that ye will never come in that queen’s fellowship, as much as ye may forbare.”  And then Sir Lancelot promised him he would not, by the faith of his body.  “Look that your heart and your mouth accord,” said the good man, “and I shall ensure you ye shall have more worship than ever ye had.” . . .  Then the good man enjoined Sir Lancelot such penance as he might do, and to sue knighthood, and so he assoiled him, and prayed Sir Lancelot to abide with him all that day.  “I will well,” said Sir Lancelot, “for I have neither helm, nor horse, nor sword.”  “As for that,” said the good man, “I shall help you to-morn at even of an horse and all that longeth unto you.”  And then Sir Lancelot repented him greatly.

After this he meets with another hermit who gives him a hair shirt to wear as a penance, and riding on in pursuit of his quest, the Holy Grail, Lancelot next comes to a Cross, “and took that for his host as for that night.  And so he put his horse to pasture, and did off his helm and his shield, and made his prayers unto the Cross that he never fall in deadly sin again.  And so he laid him down to sleep.”  Further on, we are told, as a sign of his sincerity and perseverance that “the hair pricked so Sir Lancelot’s skin that it grieved him full sore, but he took it meekly and suffered the pain.”