In his dream it seemed that the King had ridden away to the quest, and
had left his squire behind him, which filled the young man with fear.
And in his dream he set the saddle and bridle on his horse, and
fastened his spurs, and girt on his sword, and galloped out of the
castle after the King. He rode on a long space, till he entered a
thick forest, and there before him lay traces of the King's horse, and
he followed till the marks of the hoofs ceased suddenly at some open
ground and he thought that the King had alighted there. On the right
stood a chapel, and about it was a graveyard, and in the graveyard
many coffins, and in his dream it seemed as if the King had entered
the chapel, so the young man entered also. But no man did he behold
save a Knight that lay dead upon a bier in the midst of the chapel,
covered with a pall of rich silk, and four tapers in golden
candlesticks were burning round him. The squire marvelled to see the
body lying there so lonely, with no one near it, and likewise that the
King was nowhere to be seen. Then he took out one of the tall tapers,
and hid the candlestick under his cloak, and rode away until he should
find the King.
On his journey through the forest he was stopped by a man black and
ill-favoured, holding a large knife in his hand.
'Ho! you that stand there, have you seen King Arthur?' asked the
squire.
'No, but I have met you, and I am glad thereof, for you have under
your cloak one of the candlesticks of gold that was placed in honour
of the Knight who lies dead in the chapel. Give it to me, and I will
carry it back; and if you do not this of your own will, I will make
you.'
'By my faith!' cried the squire, 'I will never yield it to you!
Rather, will I carry it off and make a present of it to King Arthur.'
'You will pay for it dearly,' answered the man, 'if you yield it not
up forthwith.'
To this the squire did not make answer, but dashed forward, thinking
to pass him by; but the man thrust at him with his knife, and it
entered his body up to the hilt. And when the squire dreamed this, he
cried, 'Help! help! for I am a dead man!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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