Ominous dreams are a motif throughout the book, and they usually foreshadow events to come. For example, in Volume 1, Book 1, Chapter 13, the King with the Hundred Knights has a dream about the battle ahead:
The King with the Hundred Knights mette a wonder dream two nights afore the battle, that there blew a great wind, and blew down their castles and their towns, and after that came a water and bare it all away. All that heard of the sweven said it was a token of great battle.
Everyone in the book seems to take at face value the idea that a king might have a prophetic dream. They understand that the dream portends a "great battle." Still, dreams do not deliver a clear and complete forecast of the future. No one knows exactly what the "great battle" will look like or who will win. The reader, the King with the Hundred Knights, and the people he shares the dream with are all left in suspense about the battle the dream foreshadows.
In Volume 1, Book 5, Chapter 4, Arthur too has a mysterious dream that he asks a philosopher to interpret:
‘Sir,’ said the philosopher, ‘the dragon that thou dreamedst of betokeneth thine own person that sailest here, and the colours of his wings be thy realms that thou hast won, and his tail which is all to-tattered signifieth the noble knights of the Round Table; and the boar that the dragon slew coming from the clouds betokeneth some tyrant that tormenteth the people, or else thou art like to fight with some giant thyself, being horrible and abominable, whose peer ye saw never in your days, wherefore of this dreadful dream doubt thee nothing, but as a conqueror come forth thyself.’
The philosopher helps Arthur get a clearer picture of what his prophetic dream meant than he was able to get on his own, but still the dream raises as many questions as it answers. Arthur might have to fight "some giant" personally, or his people might be plagued by a "tyrant." What is clear, the philosopher claims, is that Arthur is the "dragon" who must prepare himself to "as a conqueror come forth thyself." Arthur's dream foreshadows but does not explicitly name a trial in Arthur's future, during which he will have to prove himself as king.
As a motif, these prophetic dreams demonstrate that humans have a complex relationship with fate: they can sometimes change it, but certain events are laid out by God. They also reveal that people's gifts and abilities are sometimes determined by their social position. For instance, Arthur and the King with a Hundred Knights both have these strange dreams because they are kings and need to prepare themselves for conflict to come. The philosopher, on the other hand, is especially well-suited to interpret the dreams. It may be that the philosopher chose to be a philosopher because of a talent in this area, but more likely the book imbues him with this power because he is a philosopher. After all, Arthur and the King with a Hundred Knights were both fated from birth to be kings. The book seems to hold that certain societal positions confer certain abilities on people.
The tension between hospitality and hostility is a motif in the book. One example occurs in Volume 1, Book 2, Chapter 15, when King Pellam goes after Balin for killing Garlon:
Anon all the knights arose from the table for to set on Balin, and King Pellam himself arose up fiercely, and said, ‘Knight, hast thou slain my brother? Thou shalt die therefore or thou depart.’
‘Well,’ said Balin, ‘do it yourself.’
‘Yes,’ said King Pellam, ‘there shall no man have ado with thee but myself, for the love of my brother.’
The dynamics of hospitality and hostility are complex in this scene. Balin has crashed a big feast at King Pellam's court. The rules of hospitality dictate that if someone shows up, they are your guest, so Pellam is obligated to host Balin. Still, killing the host's brother makes Balin a bad guest. Balin's hostility means he has already violated the rules of hospitality, so Pellam is warranted in threatening to kill him.
At the same time, Balin is still trying to be a good guest to the last person who hosted him. Balin was previously traveling with a damsel and stayed overnight with this other host. This man's son had been wounded by Garlon as revenge for the host's victory over Pellam in a tournament. The only thing that can cure the son is Garlon's blood; the entire reason Balin crashed Pellam's feast was to search for Garlon so he could take his blood for this purpose.
Balin, therefore, is in a bit of a bind. He can't fulfill his obligation to one host without offending another. Upon further inspection, Garlon seems to be the one to blame for all of this. For one thing, Balin kills Garlon only after Garlon starts a fight. Going back even further, Garlon's decision to go after the son of the man who beat his brother in a tournament seems like a violation of hospitality: the man simply fought fairly in a tournament at which he was essentially a guest of Pellam. At the same time, it may have been better form as a guest if the man had allowed Pellam to win his own tournament.
Similar dust-ups happen often at Arthur's court. For instance, when Beaumains (Gareth of Orkney) shows up at the Pentecost feast demanding gifts, some of Arthur's knights are quite passionate about whether or not he should be taken in. Although some remain suspicious of him, Arthur ultimately concludes that codes of hospitality require him to take Beaumains in, even if it creates hostility among his knights. This motif highlights not only how complex chivalry and other codes of conduct are in the Arthurian world, but also how violent and unstable this world is in many ways. When hospitality goes wrong, hurt feelings can quickly escalate to murder.
Merlin often appears to other characters in disguise. One instance of this motif occurs in Volume 1, Book 2, Chapter 8, when Merlin tries to give Balin and Balan advice:
[A]s [Balin and Balan] rode together they met with Merlin disguised, but they knew him not.
‘Whither ride you?’ said Merlin.
‘We have little to do,’ said the two knights, ‘to tell thee.’
‘But what is thy name?’ said Balin.
‘At this time,’ said Merlin, ‘I will not tell it thee. [...] I can tell you wherefore ye ride this way, for to meet King Rience; but it will not avail you without ye have my counsel.’
‘Ah!’ said Balin, ‘ye are Merlin; we will be ruled by your counsel.’
Merlin often tries to use his disguises to make mysterious prophecies and to subtly manipulate events. This motif echoes a trope in old epics such as Homer's Odyssey, in which gods do the same. Rather than sitting on high and dictating what will happen on earth, ancient gods in literature would often go to earth to participate and meddle with people and events on the ground. Merlin seems to want to have a similar role, using his vast knowledge and power to help steer people in the direction he wants them to go.
But the motif also injects some comic relief into the book and makes Merlin appear a bit foolish. In the passage above, Merlin is trying to be mysterious and all-knowing, but he is not very good at disguising himself: Balin identifies right away that he must be talking to Merlin simply because Merlin tries to pull off the mysterious, all-knowing act. It's not that Balin doesn't trust Merlin's advice. In fact, he is all too happy to "be ruled by your counsel." Rather, Balin and Malory both seem to be saying that Merlin is trying too hard with his ineffectual disguises. Rather than a powerful god, he is simply a knowledgeable advisor.
This idea that Merlin is not as godlike as he wants to be may be connected to the book's ambivalent attitudes about magic and religion. The book is deeply invested in Christianity and Christian allegory, but it also takes place in a world where magic and power can be derived from sources besides the Christian God. By making Merlin powerful but less powerful than he thinks he is, Malory may be suggesting that older kinds of magic are on their way out and are being replaced by Christianity.
Ominous dreams are a motif throughout the book, and they usually foreshadow events to come. For example, in Volume 1, Book 1, Chapter 13, the King with the Hundred Knights has a dream about the battle ahead:
The King with the Hundred Knights mette a wonder dream two nights afore the battle, that there blew a great wind, and blew down their castles and their towns, and after that came a water and bare it all away. All that heard of the sweven said it was a token of great battle.
Everyone in the book seems to take at face value the idea that a king might have a prophetic dream. They understand that the dream portends a "great battle." Still, dreams do not deliver a clear and complete forecast of the future. No one knows exactly what the "great battle" will look like or who will win. The reader, the King with the Hundred Knights, and the people he shares the dream with are all left in suspense about the battle the dream foreshadows.
In Volume 1, Book 5, Chapter 4, Arthur too has a mysterious dream that he asks a philosopher to interpret:
‘Sir,’ said the philosopher, ‘the dragon that thou dreamedst of betokeneth thine own person that sailest here, and the colours of his wings be thy realms that thou hast won, and his tail which is all to-tattered signifieth the noble knights of the Round Table; and the boar that the dragon slew coming from the clouds betokeneth some tyrant that tormenteth the people, or else thou art like to fight with some giant thyself, being horrible and abominable, whose peer ye saw never in your days, wherefore of this dreadful dream doubt thee nothing, but as a conqueror come forth thyself.’
The philosopher helps Arthur get a clearer picture of what his prophetic dream meant than he was able to get on his own, but still the dream raises as many questions as it answers. Arthur might have to fight "some giant" personally, or his people might be plagued by a "tyrant." What is clear, the philosopher claims, is that Arthur is the "dragon" who must prepare himself to "as a conqueror come forth thyself." Arthur's dream foreshadows but does not explicitly name a trial in Arthur's future, during which he will have to prove himself as king.
As a motif, these prophetic dreams demonstrate that humans have a complex relationship with fate: they can sometimes change it, but certain events are laid out by God. They also reveal that people's gifts and abilities are sometimes determined by their social position. For instance, Arthur and the King with a Hundred Knights both have these strange dreams because they are kings and need to prepare themselves for conflict to come. The philosopher, on the other hand, is especially well-suited to interpret the dreams. It may be that the philosopher chose to be a philosopher because of a talent in this area, but more likely the book imbues him with this power because he is a philosopher. After all, Arthur and the King with a Hundred Knights were both fated from birth to be kings. The book seems to hold that certain societal positions confer certain abilities on people.
The knights are frequently confronted with traps and tests of their faith and adherence to the codes of chivalry. This motif usually involves women acting as temptresses or bait, such as in Volume 1, Book 6, Chapter 15:
[T]here met him a fair damosel, and said, ‘Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou will die for it.’
‘I leave it not,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘for no treaties.’
‘No,’ said she, ‘and thou didst leave that sword, Queen Guenever should thou never see.’
‘Then were I a fool and I would leave this sword,’ said Launcelot.
‘Now, gentle knight’ said the damosel, ‘I require thee to kiss me but once.’
‘Nay,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘that God me forbid.’
‘Well, sir,’ said she, ‘and thou hadst kissed me thy life days had been done[...]
Launcelot is trying to take a sword and a shroud from the Chapel Perilous on behalf of a woman who has told him that her brother, Sir Meliot de Logres (another knight of the Round Table), needs them to heal from his wounds. On his way out, first some knights and then the woman in this passage try to trick him into leaving the sword inside. Launcelot resists, and the woman tells him outright that it was a test. If he had failed, he would never have seen Guenever again. The woman then tests him further, asking him for a kiss. When he again refuses, she again tells him the high stakes of the test. This time, his life was on the line. The woman then dies herself. She seems to have sprung up in the book for the sole purpose of testing whether Launcelot is true to his word (that he will fetch the sword and the shroud) and whether he is faithful to Guenever.
Another instance of this motif occurs in Volume 2, Book 14, Chapter 10. Percivale accepts a ride on a ship from a beautiful woman who says she can take him to Galahad if he fulfills a favor to her. Percivale narrowly avoids falling into the trap of sleeping with her, and an old man who helps save him claims that this woman was the devil in disguise:
‘O good knight,’ said he, ‘thou art a fool, for that gentlewoman was the master fiend of hell, the which hath power above all devils, and that was the old lady that thou sawest in thine advision riding on the serpent.’
If Percivale had given into the woman's temptations, his status as a chaste knight would have been endangered, and he would not have been able to help Galahad fulfill Merlin's prophecy about the Sangreal. The old man is not speaking figuratively when he claims that the woman is the devil. Percivale had a prophetic dream earlier about a woman riding on a serpent, which in the context of the book symbolizes the devil. In the Genesis story, Eve is tempted by a serpent (the devil in disguise) to disobey God, and she in turn tempts Adam. The woman Percivale resists, as a serpent, a woman, and the devil, is the ultimate temptress. As Launcelot did in the Chapel Perilous, Percivale proves his commitment to his faith and principles by resisting a woman whose sole purpose is to test him.
Brotherhood and men's solidarity is a major part of the book, and the breach of this solidarity is a motif. For example, in Volume 1, Book 6, Chapter 17, Launcelot lets Pedivere ride with him on the condition that he won't behead the woman Launcelot just rescued:
‘Sir,’ said the knight, ‘in your sight I will be ruled as ye will have me.’
[...Launcelot] had not ridden but a while, but the knight bad Sir Launcelot turn him and look behind him, and said, ‘Sir, yonder come men of arms after us riding.’
And so Sir Launcelot turned him and thought no treason, and therewith was the knight and the lady on one side, and suddenly he swapped off his lady’s head. And when Sir Launcelot had espied him what he had done, he said, and called him, ‘Traitor, thou has shamed me for ever.’
Pedivere tricks Launcelot into looking the other direction so he can swiftly finish the beheading Launcelot just interrupted. It may be difficult to see how Launcelot could be so easily fooled into thinking Pedivere would not betray him. The woman asked Launcelot to protect her from Pedivere and pleads with him not to believe his claim that she has committed adultery. Launcelot seems to believe Pedivere far too easily when he says he will do as Launcelot says. Under the codes of chivalry, doesn't Launcelot owe the lady more than this?
The book leaves room to critique Launcelot for his poor assessment of the situation. Still, within the world of the book, the decision of whether to side with Pedivere or the lady is more difficult than it looks from the outside. Chivalry dictates that knights should protect women, but it also dictates that they owe a great deal to other men. Launcelot believes so deeply in chivalric honor that he can't imagine that Pedivere will betray him as he does, no matter how he feels toward the woman.
Somewhat ironically, breaches of this solidarity between men happen frequently. The knights are so strict about their ideals surrounding brotherhood that they are easily offended when these ideals are not met by others. Often, as is the case here, men's falling-outs have to do with women. Another example is Tristram and Launcelot's feud over Tristram's infidelity to La Beale Isoud. Launcelot is himself having an extramarital affair with Guenever, but he feels that he is wholly devoted to her, whereas Tristram's attention is easily turned away from La Beale Isoud. It is important to note that in both these instances as well as others throughout the book, the knights feel personally "shamed" and betrayed by their fellow knights' bad behavior. The transgressions against women matter less for the women's sake and more for the sake of what men owe to other men. The motif leads up to the ending, when the revelation of Launcelot and Guenever's affair leads to the breakup of the knights of the Round Table.
Anti-Muslim hatred is a disturbingly casual motif in the book, helping prop up the idea of the knights as devoted Christians. One striking example occurs in Volume 2, Book 10, Chapter 32, when Mark gets jealous of his brother, Prince Boudwin, for taking the "glory" for massacring 40,000 "Saracens" (Muslims):
And or it were day he let put wild fire in three of his own ships, and suddenly he pulled up the sail, and with the wind he made those ships to be driven among the navy of the Saracens. And to make short tale, those three ships set on fire all the ships, that none were saved. And at point of the day the good Prince Boudwin with all his fellowship set on the miscreants with shouts and cries, and slew to the number of forty thousand, and left none alive.
Whereas the book often offers complexity and ambivalence when it comes to conflicts among the main characters, this is a remarkably one-dimensional and cavalier description of an extremely violent encounter. The narrator describes Prince Boudwin as "good" and the Muslims he kills as "miscreants," which literally means that their creation by God was botched. According to the book, Prince Boudwin is an unmitigated good guy who was defending the land from unmitigated bad guys. The murder of 40,000 Muslims is portrayed as an event so worth celebrating that Mark is angry he did not get to commit the murders himself.
Not all of the anti-Muslim hatred in the book is quite so violent, but in every instance, there is a sense that the knights are working toward the promotion of Christianity through the eradication of Islam. Tristram campaigns for Palomides to renounce Islam and undergo baptism in Book 12, as if Palomides will be a more worthy knight if he is a Christian. In Book 13, Galahad learns that his ancestor, Joseph of Arimathea, has passed down to him a shield that he once used to help a newly-Christian king fight Muslims out of his land. This means that part of the legacy Galahad picks up from Joseph, in addition to the Grail, is the treatment of Muslims as an obstacle to the spread of Christianity. Malory imagined that he was writing to a Christian audience who would be sympathetic to anti-Muslim sentiment, so it often slips in casually, as if hatred of Muslims is a simple fact of life.
Although the book is about King Arthur and conflict among human knights, it is also a Christian allegory about the battle between good and evil. This allegory is represented through the motif of lions (representing Christ) and serpents (representing the devil). In Volume 2, Book 14, Chapter 6, Percivale sees a lion and a serpent fighting:
And then Sir Percival thought to help the lion for he was the more natural beast of the two; and therewith he drew his sword, and set his shield afore him, and there he gave the serpent such a buffet that he had a deadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no resemblant to fight with him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a man.
Percivale chooses to help the lion because it seems a "more natural beast" than the snake. There is nothing inherently more natural about a lion than a snake, but there is a long tradition of iconography in which lions represent Jesus and snakes represent the Devil. In the Bible, for instance, the Devil (Lucifer) infiltrates the Garden of Eden as a snake and tempts Eve into the actions that get Adam and Eve evicted from Paradise. The Bible also refers to Jesus as a triumphant lion. This symbolism was especially common through much of the Middle Ages, when animal symbolism and beast fables were very popular. Percivale, who is questing after the Sangreal and therefore deeply invested in being a good Christian, is rewarded for choosing the lion. Percivale's assistance to the lion, and the way the lion therefore triumphs over the snake, anticipates the way Percivale will help Galahad (another Christ figure) achieve the Sangreal.
In Volume 2, Book 21, Chapter 4, an adder (a kind of snake) crawls out of a bush and bites a knight just as Arthur and Mordred are signing a treaty. The knight draws his sword, which prompts both sides to reignite the conflict:
And so they met as their pointment was, and so they were agreed and accorded thoroughly; and wine was fetched, and they drank. Right soon came an adder out of a little heath bush, and it stung a knight on the foot. And when the knight felt him stungen, he looked down and saw the adder, and then he drew his sword to slay the adder, and thought of none other harm. And when the host on both parties saw that sword drawn, then they blew beams, trumpets, and horns, and shouted grimly. And so both hosts dressed them together.
In this case, a serpent infiltrates the treaty negotiation just as the Devil once infiltrated the Garden of Eden disguised as a snake. The way the snake manages to sabotage the treaty and cause the knights to devolve into outright warfare suggests that Malory has a cynical outlook on good's ability to triumph over evil. Even though there have been many moments in the book where good won (such as when the lion beat the serpent with Percivale's help), evil is ultimately the prevailing force that leads to the death of Arthur and his realm. The lion vs. serpent motif suggests that good and evil will always be locked in battle, but that ever since Arthur's demise, the scales have been tipped toward evil.
The knights are frequently confronted with traps and tests of their faith and adherence to the codes of chivalry. This motif usually involves women acting as temptresses or bait, such as in Volume 1, Book 6, Chapter 15:
[T]here met him a fair damosel, and said, ‘Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou will die for it.’
‘I leave it not,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘for no treaties.’
‘No,’ said she, ‘and thou didst leave that sword, Queen Guenever should thou never see.’
‘Then were I a fool and I would leave this sword,’ said Launcelot.
‘Now, gentle knight’ said the damosel, ‘I require thee to kiss me but once.’
‘Nay,’ said Sir Launcelot, ‘that God me forbid.’
‘Well, sir,’ said she, ‘and thou hadst kissed me thy life days had been done[...]
Launcelot is trying to take a sword and a shroud from the Chapel Perilous on behalf of a woman who has told him that her brother, Sir Meliot de Logres (another knight of the Round Table), needs them to heal from his wounds. On his way out, first some knights and then the woman in this passage try to trick him into leaving the sword inside. Launcelot resists, and the woman tells him outright that it was a test. If he had failed, he would never have seen Guenever again. The woman then tests him further, asking him for a kiss. When he again refuses, she again tells him the high stakes of the test. This time, his life was on the line. The woman then dies herself. She seems to have sprung up in the book for the sole purpose of testing whether Launcelot is true to his word (that he will fetch the sword and the shroud) and whether he is faithful to Guenever.
Another instance of this motif occurs in Volume 2, Book 14, Chapter 10. Percivale accepts a ride on a ship from a beautiful woman who says she can take him to Galahad if he fulfills a favor to her. Percivale narrowly avoids falling into the trap of sleeping with her, and an old man who helps save him claims that this woman was the devil in disguise:
‘O good knight,’ said he, ‘thou art a fool, for that gentlewoman was the master fiend of hell, the which hath power above all devils, and that was the old lady that thou sawest in thine advision riding on the serpent.’
If Percivale had given into the woman's temptations, his status as a chaste knight would have been endangered, and he would not have been able to help Galahad fulfill Merlin's prophecy about the Sangreal. The old man is not speaking figuratively when he claims that the woman is the devil. Percivale had a prophetic dream earlier about a woman riding on a serpent, which in the context of the book symbolizes the devil. In the Genesis story, Eve is tempted by a serpent (the devil in disguise) to disobey God, and she in turn tempts Adam. The woman Percivale resists, as a serpent, a woman, and the devil, is the ultimate temptress. As Launcelot did in the Chapel Perilous, Percivale proves his commitment to his faith and principles by resisting a woman whose sole purpose is to test him.
Weeping is a motif in the book, introducing pathos in moments the narrator wants to mark as especially significant to the overall tragedy. For instance, in Volume 2, Book 20, Chapter 17, Launcelot weeps as he parts from King Arthur's realm:
Then Sir Launcelot sighed, and therewith the tears fell on his cheeks, and then he said thus: ‘Alas, most noble Christian realm, whom I have loved above all other realms, and in thee I have gotten a great part of my worship, and now I shall depart in this wise.'
Launcelot is leaving Arthur's kingdom because of the civil war that has broken out. Not only has Arthur found out about Launcelot's affair with Guenever, but also Gawaine is enraged that Launcelot has (accidentally) killed his brothers. Launcelot has offered penance to right this wrong. Gawaine has rejected this offer, so Launcelot is now leaving the realm as a last resort. His weeping emphasizes the grief he feels at leaving this "most noble Christian realm, whom I have loved above all other realms." Launcelot's love for Arthur's kingdom is tied up in his devotion to Christianity; there is a way in which leaving means forsaking his religion, at least in the way he has practiced it up until now. Malory's entire book is about Arthur's death, and the profound cultural loss he claims the world has felt with the passing of this imagined historical era. Christianity, morality, and love, the book suggests, are no longer as "pure" as they once were, and politics are no longer directed by these "pure" principles. Launcelot's tears help the reader, too, feel an acute sense of loss, as though the reader is losing just as much as Launcelot in this moment.
In some cases, knights cry out of happiness, relief, or other positive emotions. In Volume 2, Book 19, Chapter 12, the Hungarian knight Sir Urré needs the best knight in the world to tend his wounds, or they will never heal. Everyone fails the test until Launcelot rises to the task:
Then King Arthur and all the kings and knights kneeled down and gave thankings and lovings unto God and to his blessed mother. And ever Sir Launcelot wept as he had been a child that had been beaten.
Launcelot's weeping here is strange. He seems to be profoundly relieved that he was able to heal Sir Urré because he was previously worried about the shame he would feel if he failed. After all, Galahad has recently surpassed his father to achieve the Sangreal. Launcelot, once the uncontested best knight in the world, has been coming to terms with the idea that his time has passed. At the same time, the simile (he "wept as he had been a child that had been beaten") sounds as though he is far more dejected. Some scholars have suggested that the simile means Launcelot is feeling as though he has properly submitted himself to God, and this is why God granted him the ability to heal Sir Urré's wounds. In any case, the intense pathos of this moment marks out the significance of Lancelot's success as the best knight in the world and as a representative of Arthur's knights. On the brink of the civil war, it emphasizes just how tragic the breakup of the knights is.
Weeping is a motif in the book, introducing pathos in moments the narrator wants to mark as especially significant to the overall tragedy. For instance, in Volume 2, Book 20, Chapter 17, Launcelot weeps as he parts from King Arthur's realm:
Then Sir Launcelot sighed, and therewith the tears fell on his cheeks, and then he said thus: ‘Alas, most noble Christian realm, whom I have loved above all other realms, and in thee I have gotten a great part of my worship, and now I shall depart in this wise.'
Launcelot is leaving Arthur's kingdom because of the civil war that has broken out. Not only has Arthur found out about Launcelot's affair with Guenever, but also Gawaine is enraged that Launcelot has (accidentally) killed his brothers. Launcelot has offered penance to right this wrong. Gawaine has rejected this offer, so Launcelot is now leaving the realm as a last resort. His weeping emphasizes the grief he feels at leaving this "most noble Christian realm, whom I have loved above all other realms." Launcelot's love for Arthur's kingdom is tied up in his devotion to Christianity; there is a way in which leaving means forsaking his religion, at least in the way he has practiced it up until now. Malory's entire book is about Arthur's death, and the profound cultural loss he claims the world has felt with the passing of this imagined historical era. Christianity, morality, and love, the book suggests, are no longer as "pure" as they once were, and politics are no longer directed by these "pure" principles. Launcelot's tears help the reader, too, feel an acute sense of loss, as though the reader is losing just as much as Launcelot in this moment.
In some cases, knights cry out of happiness, relief, or other positive emotions. In Volume 2, Book 19, Chapter 12, the Hungarian knight Sir Urré needs the best knight in the world to tend his wounds, or they will never heal. Everyone fails the test until Launcelot rises to the task:
Then King Arthur and all the kings and knights kneeled down and gave thankings and lovings unto God and to his blessed mother. And ever Sir Launcelot wept as he had been a child that had been beaten.
Launcelot's weeping here is strange. He seems to be profoundly relieved that he was able to heal Sir Urré because he was previously worried about the shame he would feel if he failed. After all, Galahad has recently surpassed his father to achieve the Sangreal. Launcelot, once the uncontested best knight in the world, has been coming to terms with the idea that his time has passed. At the same time, the simile (he "wept as he had been a child that had been beaten") sounds as though he is far more dejected. Some scholars have suggested that the simile means Launcelot is feeling as though he has properly submitted himself to God, and this is why God granted him the ability to heal Sir Urré's wounds. In any case, the intense pathos of this moment marks out the significance of Lancelot's success as the best knight in the world and as a representative of Arthur's knights. On the brink of the civil war, it emphasizes just how tragic the breakup of the knights is.
Although the book is about King Arthur and conflict among human knights, it is also a Christian allegory about the battle between good and evil. This allegory is represented through the motif of lions (representing Christ) and serpents (representing the devil). In Volume 2, Book 14, Chapter 6, Percivale sees a lion and a serpent fighting:
And then Sir Percival thought to help the lion for he was the more natural beast of the two; and therewith he drew his sword, and set his shield afore him, and there he gave the serpent such a buffet that he had a deadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no resemblant to fight with him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a man.
Percivale chooses to help the lion because it seems a "more natural beast" than the snake. There is nothing inherently more natural about a lion than a snake, but there is a long tradition of iconography in which lions represent Jesus and snakes represent the Devil. In the Bible, for instance, the Devil (Lucifer) infiltrates the Garden of Eden as a snake and tempts Eve into the actions that get Adam and Eve evicted from Paradise. The Bible also refers to Jesus as a triumphant lion. This symbolism was especially common through much of the Middle Ages, when animal symbolism and beast fables were very popular. Percivale, who is questing after the Sangreal and therefore deeply invested in being a good Christian, is rewarded for choosing the lion. Percivale's assistance to the lion, and the way the lion therefore triumphs over the snake, anticipates the way Percivale will help Galahad (another Christ figure) achieve the Sangreal.
In Volume 2, Book 21, Chapter 4, an adder (a kind of snake) crawls out of a bush and bites a knight just as Arthur and Mordred are signing a treaty. The knight draws his sword, which prompts both sides to reignite the conflict:
And so they met as their pointment was, and so they were agreed and accorded thoroughly; and wine was fetched, and they drank. Right soon came an adder out of a little heath bush, and it stung a knight on the foot. And when the knight felt him stungen, he looked down and saw the adder, and then he drew his sword to slay the adder, and thought of none other harm. And when the host on both parties saw that sword drawn, then they blew beams, trumpets, and horns, and shouted grimly. And so both hosts dressed them together.
In this case, a serpent infiltrates the treaty negotiation just as the Devil once infiltrated the Garden of Eden disguised as a snake. The way the snake manages to sabotage the treaty and cause the knights to devolve into outright warfare suggests that Malory has a cynical outlook on good's ability to triumph over evil. Even though there have been many moments in the book where good won (such as when the lion beat the serpent with Percivale's help), evil is ultimately the prevailing force that leads to the death of Arthur and his realm. The lion vs. serpent motif suggests that good and evil will always be locked in battle, but that ever since Arthur's demise, the scales have been tipped toward evil.
