age, so that he could not tell if
it were man or woman.

After the service was over the occupant of the bed sat up and threw back
the covering, and then Percivale saw that it was a man of very great
age, on whose head was a crown of gold. But his shoulders and body to
the middle were unclad, and were covered with wounds, as were also his
arms and face.

To all seeming he might have been three hundred years of age, for so
venerable a face Percivale had never gazed upon, and as he sat up he
prayed fervently, with joined hands. When the mass was over the priest
bore the sacrament to the sick king. And when he had used it, he took
off his crown and commanded it to be set on the altar. Then he lay down
again.

Percivale now asked one of the attendants who this venerable man was.

"You have heard of Joseph of Arimathea," was the reply, "and how he came
into this land to convert the heathen. With him came a king named
Evelake, whom he had converted in the city of Sarras, in Palestine. This
king afterwards had an earnest desire to be where the Sangreal was, and
on one occasion he ventured so nigh it that God was displeased with him,
and struck him almost blind. Then King Evelake prayed for mercy and
pardon, and begged that he might not die until he who was to achieve the
Sangreal should come, that he might see him and kiss him. There
answered him a voice that said: 'Thy prayers are heard; thou shalt not
die till he has kissed thee. And when he comes thy eyes shall be opened
to see clearly, and thy wounds shall be healed; but not until then.' So
King Evelake has lived in this mansion for three hundred winters,
waiting for the coming of the knight who shall heal him. Now, sir, will
you tell me what knight you are, and if you are of the Round Table
fellowship?"

"That am I, and my name is Percivale de Galis."

On hearing this the good man welcomed Percivale warmly, and pressed him
to remain. But the knight replied that he could not, for his duty led
him onward.

Percivale now left the chapel, and, arming himself, he took his horse
and rode onward. And that day more strange things happened to him than
we have space to tell. Not far had he ridden when he met twenty
men-at-arms, who bore on a bier a dead knight. On learning that he was
from King Arthur's court, they assailed him fiercely, killed his horse,
and would have slain him; but when he was at the worst strait a knight
in red armor came hastily to his rescue, and rode