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"What was your husband's name?" said Sir Launcelot.

"Sir," said she, "his name was called Sir Gilbert, one of the best knights of the world, and he that hath slain him I know not his name."

"Now God send you better comfort," said Sir Launcelot.

And so he departed and went into the forest again, and there he met with a damsel, the which knew him well, and she said aloud, "Well be ye found, my lord; and now I require thee on thy knighthood help my brother that is sore wounded, and never stinteth bleeding, for this day fought he with Sir Gilbert and slew him in plain battle, and there was my brother sore wounded, and there is a lady a sorceress that dwelleth in a castle here beside, and this day she told me my brother's wounds should never be whole till I could find a knight that would go into the Chapel Perilous, and there he should find a sword and a bloody cloth that the wounded knight was lapped in, and a piece of that cloth and sword should heal my brother's wounds, so that his wounds were searched [_touched_] with the sword and the cloth."

"This is a marvellous thing," said Sir Launcelot, "but what is your brother's name?"

"Sir," said she, "his name is Sir Meliot de Logres."

"That me repenteth," said Sir Launcelot, "for he is a fellow of the Table Round, and to his help I will do my power."

"Then, sir," said she, "follow even this highway, and it will bring you unto the Chapel Perilous, and here I shall abide till God send you here again, and but you speed I know no knight living that may achieve that adventure."

* * * * *

Right so Sir Launcelot departed, and when he came unto the Chapel Perilous he alighted down, and tied his horse to a little gate. And as soon as he was within the church-yard he saw on the front of the chapel many fair rich shields turned up so down [_upside down_], and many of the shields Sir Launcelot had seen knights bear beforehand. With that he saw by him stand there thirty great knights, more by a yard than any man that ever he had seen, and all those grinned and gnashed at Sir Launcelot. And when he saw their countenance he dread him sore, and so put his shield afore him, and took his sword in his hand ready unto battle; and they were all armed in black harness, ready with their shields and their swords drawn. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone throughout them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him the way, and therewith he waxed all bold and entered into the chapel, and then he saw no light but a dim lamp burning, and then was he ware of a corpse covered with a cloth of silk. Then Sir Launcelot stooped down and cut a piece away of that cloth, and then it fared under him as the earth had quaked a little; therewithal he feared. And then he saw a fair sword lie by the dead knight, and that he gat in his hand and hied him out of the chapel. Anon as ever he was in the chapel-yard all the knights spake to him with a grimly voice, and said, "Knight, Sir Launcelot, lay that sword from thee, or else thou shalt die."

"Whether I live or die," said Sir Launcelot, "will no great word get it again, therefore fight for it and ye list."

Then right so he passed throughout them, and beyond the chapel-yard there met him a fair damsel, and said, "Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou wilt die for it."

"I leave it not," said Sir Launcelot, "for no entreaties."

"No," said she, "and thou didst leave that sword, Queen Guenever should ye never see."

"Then were I a fool and I would leave this sword," said Launcelot.

"Now, gentle knight," said the damsel, "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, but now alas," she said, "I have lost all my labor, for I ordained this chapel for thy sake. And, Sir Launcelot, now I tell thee, I have loved thee this seven year. But since I may not have [thee] alive, I had kept no more joy in this world but to have [thee] dead. Then would I have balmed [thee] and preserved [thee], and so have kept [thee] my life-days, and daily I should have kissed thee."

"Ye say well," said Sir Launcelot, "God preserve me from your subtle crafts."

And therewithal he took his horse and so departed from her. And when Sir Launcelot was departed she took such sorrow that she died within a fourteen night [_fortnight_], and her name was Hellawes the sorceress, lady of the castle Nigramous. Anon Sir Launcelot met with the damsel, Sir Meliot's sister. And when she saw him she clapped her hands and wept for joy, and then they rode unto a castle thereby, where Sir Meliot lay. And anon as Sir Launcelot saw him he knew him, but he was pale as the earth for bleeding. When Sir Meliot saw Sir Launcelot, he kneeled upon his knees and cried on high: "O lord Sir Launcelot help me!" Anon Sir Launcelot leaped unto him, and touched his wounds with Sir Gilbert's sword, and then he wiped his wounds with a part of the bloody cloth that Sir Gilbert was wrapped in, and anon a wholer man in his life was he never. And then there was great joy between them, and they made Sir Launcelot all the cheer that they might, and so on the morn Sir Launcelot took his leave, and bade Sir Meliot hie him to the court of my lord Arthur, "for it draweth nigh to the feast of Pentecost, and there, by the grace of God, ye shall find me." And therewith they departed.

* * * * *

Sir Launcelot came home two days afore the feast of Pentecost. And King Arthur and all the court were full glad of his coming. And when Sir Gawaine, Sir Ewaine, Sir Sagramor, and Sir Ector de Maris saw Sir Launcelot in Sir Kay's armor, then they wist well it was he that smote them down all with one spear. Then there was laughing and smiling among them. And ever now and then came all the knights home that Sir Turquine had taken prisoners, and they all honored and worshipped Sir Launcelot. When Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said: "I saw all the battle, from the beginning to the ending."

And there he told King Arthur all how it was, and how Sir Turquine was the strongest knight that ever he saw except Sir Launcelot; there were many knights bare him record, nigh threescore. Then Sir Kay told the king how Sir Launcelot had rescued him when he was in danger to have been slain, and how "he made the knights to yield them to me, and not to him." And there they were, all three, and bare record. "And," said Sir Kay, "because Sir Launcelot took my harness, and left me his, I rode in good peace, and no man would have to do with me." Then anon therewithal came the three knights that fought with Sir Launcelot at the long bridge, and there they yielded them unto Sir Kay, and Sir Kay forsook them, and said he fought never with them; "but I shall ease your hearts," said Sir Kay, "yonder is Sir Launcelot that overcame you." When they understood that, they were glad. And then Sir Meliot de Logres came home, and told King Arthur how Sir Launcelot had saved him from the death. And all his deeds were known, how four queens, sorceresses, had him in prison, and how he was delivered by King Bagdemagus' daughter. Also there were told all the great deeds of arms that Sir Launcelot did betwixt the two kings, that is to say, the King of Northgalis and King Bagdemagus. All the truth Sir Gahalatine did tell, and Sir Mador de la Porte, and Sir Mordred, for they were at that same tournament. Then came in the lady that knew Sir Launcelot when that he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion. And there at the request of Sir Launcelot, Sir Belleus was made knight of the Round Table.

And so at that time Sir Launcelot had the greatest name of any knight of the world, and most he was honored of high and low.

* * * * *

[On a day, that might be a matter of two years before that feast of Pentecost whereof it will be told in the Book of Sir Tristram, it happened that Queen Guenever was angered with Sir Launcelot, yet truly for no fault of his, but only because a certain enchantress had wrought that Sir Launcelot seemed to have shamed his knighthood.

Then the queen was nigh out of her wit, and then she writhed and weltered as a mad woman; and at the last the queen met with Sir Launcelot, and thus she said,] "False traitor knight that thou art, look thou never abide in my court, and not so hardy, thou false traitor knight that thou art, that ever thou come in my sight."

"Alas!" said Sir Launcelot: and therewith he took such an heartly sorrow at her words that he fell down to the floor in a swoon. And therewithal Queen Guenever departed. And when Sir Launcelot awoke of his swoon he leaped out at a bay window into a garden, and there with thorns he was all to-scratched in his visage and his body, and so he ran forth he wist not whither, and was wild wood [_insane_] as ever was man.

"Wit ye well," said dame Elaine[12] to Sir Bors, "I would lose my life for him rather than he should be hurt; but alas, I cast me never for to see him; and the chief causer of this is dame Guenever."

[Footnote 12: This is not Elaine, the maid of Astolat--whom we shall meet hereafter--but another Elaine.]

"Madam," said dame Brisen, the which had made the enchantment before betwixt Sir Launcelot and her, "I pray you heartily let Sir Bors depart and hie him with all his might, as fast as he may, to seek Sir Launcelot. For I warn you he is clean out of his mind, and yet he shall be well holpen, and but by miracle."

Then wept dame Elaine, and so did Sir Bors de Ganis, and so they departed; and Sir Bors rode straight unto Queen Guenever, and when she saw Sir Bors she wept as she were wood.

"Fie on your weeping," said Sir Bors, "for ye weep never but when there is no boot. Alas!" said Sir Bors, "that ever Sir Launcelot's kin saw you. For now have ye lost the best knight of our blood, and he that was all our leader and our succor. And I dare say and make it good, that all kings, Christian nor heathen, may not find such a knight, for to speak of his nobleness and courtesy with his beauty and his gentleness. Alas," said Sir Bors, "what shall we do that be of his blood?"

"Alas!" said Sir Ector de Maris.

"Alas!" said Sir Lionel.

* * * * *

And when the queen heard them say so, she fell to the ground in a deadly sound [_swoon_]; and then Sir Bors took her, and [roused] her, and when she was come to herself again she kneeled afore the three knights, and held up both her hands, and besought them to seek him, and not to spare for no goods but that he be found, "for I wot well he is out of his mind." And Sir Bors, Sir Ector, Sir Lionel, departed from the queen, for they might not abide no longer for sorrow: and then the queen sent them treasure enough for their expenses, and so they took their horses and their armor, and departed. And then they rode from country to country, in forests and in wildernesses and in wastes, and ever they laid watch as well both at forests and at all manner of men as they rode, to hearken and to inquire after him, as he that was a naked man in his shirt, with a sword in his hand. And thus they rode well nigh a quarter of a year, endlong and overthwart,[13] in many places, forests and wildernesses, and oftentimes were evil lodged for his sake, and yet for all their labor and seeking could they never hear word of him. And wit ye well these three knights were passing sorry.

[Footnote 13: "Endlong and overthwart," _lengthways and erossways_ of the land.]

Then Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramor le Desirous, Sir Agloval, and Sir Percival de Galis, took upon them by the great desire of King Arthur, and in especial by the queen, to seek throughout all England, Wales, and Scotland, to find Sir Launcelot. And with them rode eighteen knights more to bear them fellowship. And wit ye well they lacked no manner of spending: and so were they three and twenty knights.

And thus as these noble knights rode together, they by one assent departed, and then they rode by two, by three, and by four, and by five; and ever they assigned where they should meet.

* * * * *

And now leave we a little of Sir Ector and Sir Percival, and speak we of Sir Launcelot, that suffered and endured many sharp showers, which ever ran wild wood, from place to place, and lived by fruit and such as he might get, and drank water, two years; and other clothing had he but little, save his shirt and his breeches. And thus, as Sir Launcelot wandered here and there, he came into a fair meadow where he found a pavilion, and there upon a tree hung a white shield and two swords hung thereby, and two spears there leaned against a tree; and when Sir Launcelot saw the swords, anon he leaped to the one sword, and took it in his hand, and drew it out, and then he lashed at the shield that all the meadow rang of the dints that he gave with such a noise as ten knights had fought together. Then there came forth a dwarf, and leaped unto Sir Launcelot, and would have had the sword out of his hand; and then Sir Launcelot took him by both the shoulders and threw him to the ground upon his neck, that he had almost broken his neck; and therewithal the dwarf cried for help. Then came forth a likely knight, and well apparelled in scarlet, furred with miniver. And anon as he saw Sir Launcelot, he deemed that he should be out of his wit: and then he said with fair speech, "Good man, lay down that sword, for, as me seemeth, thou hast more need of sleep, and of warm clothes, than to wield that sword."

[Illustration: _And lived by fruit and such as he might get_]

"As for that," said Sir Launcelot, "come not too nigh; for, and thou do, wit thou well I will slay thee."

And when the knight of the pavilion saw that, he started backward within the pavilion. And then the dwarf armed him lightly, and so the knight thought by force and might to take the sword from Sir Launcelot, and so he came stepping out, and when Sir Launcelot saw him come so all armed with his sword in his hand, then Sir Launcelot flew to him with such a might and hit him upon the helm such a buffet that the stroke troubled his brains, and therewith the sword brake in three. And the knight fell to the earth as he had been dead, the blood bursting out of his mouth, nose, and ears. And then Sir Launcelot ran into the pavilion, and rushed even into the warm bed.

Then the knight awaked out of his swoon, and looked up weakly with his eyes, and then he asked where was that mad man that had given him such a buffet? "for such a buffet had I never of man's hand."

"Sir," said the dwarf, "it is not worship to hurt him, for he is a man out of his wit, and doubt ye not he hath been a man of great worship, and for some heartly sorrow that he hath taken he is fallen mad; and me seemeth he resembleth much unto Sir Launcelot; for him I saw at the great tournament beside Lonazep."

"Jesu defend," said that knight, "that ever that noble knight Sir Launcelot should be in such a plight. But whatsoever he be, harm will I none do him."

And this knight's name was Sir Bliant. Then he said unto the dwarf, "Go thou in all haste on horseback unto my brother Sir Seliaunt, that is at the Castle Blanche, and tell him of mine adventure, and bid him bring with him an horse-litter and then will we bear this knight unto my castle."

* * * * *

So the dwarf rode fast, and came again, and brought Sir Seliaunt with him, and six men with an horse-litter; and so they took up the feather-bed with Sir Launcelot, and so carried all with them to the Castle Blanche, and he never wakened until he was within the castle; and then they bound his hands and his feet, and gave him good meats and good drinks, and brought him again to his strength and his fairness; but in his wit they could not bring him again, nor to know himself. Thus Sir Launcelot was there more than a year and a half.

Then upon a day this lord of that castle, Sir Bliant, took his arms on horseback with a spear to seek adventures, and as he rode in a forest there met him two knights adventurous; the one was Sir Breuse sans Pitie, and his brother Sir Bertlot. And these two ran both at once upon Sir Bliant, and brake both their spears upon his body, and then they drew out their swords and made a great battle and fought long together; but at the last Sir Bliant was sore wounded, and felt himself faint, and then he fled on horseback towards his castle. And as they came hurling under the castle, where Sir Launcelot lay in a window and saw two knights laid upon Sir Bliant with their swords, and when Sir Launcelot saw that, yet as wood [_crazy_] as he was, he was sorry for his lord Sir Bliant; and then Sir Launcelot brake his chains from his legs.

And so Sir Launcelot ran out at a postern, and there he met with the two knights that chased Sir Bliant, and there he pulled down Bertlot with his bare hands from his horse, and therewithal he writhed his sword out of his hands, and so he leaped unto Sir Breuse, and gave him such a buffet upon the head that he tumbled backward over his horse's crupper. And when Sir Bertlot saw his brother have such a fall, he gat a spear in his hand, and would have run Sir Launcelot through. That saw Sir Bliant, and struck off the hand of Sir Bertlot; and then Sir Breuse and Sir Bertlot gat their horses and fled away. When Sir Seliaunt came, and saw what Sir Launcelot had done for his brother, then he thanked God, and so did his brother, that ever they did him any good. But when Sir Bliant saw that Sir Launcelot was hurt with the breaking of his chains, then he was sorry that he had bound him. "Bind him no more," said Sir Seliaunt, "for he is happy and gracious." Then they made great joy of Sir Launcelot, and they bound him no more; and so he abode there half a year and more. And in a morning early Sir Launcelot was ware where came a great boar, with many hounds nigh him; but the boar was so big that there might no hounds tear him, and the hunters came after blowing their horns both on horseback and on foot; and at the last Sir Launcelot was ware where one of them alighted and tied his horse to a tree, and leaned his spear against the tree.

So came Sir Launcelot and found the horse bound to a tree, and a spear leaning against a tree, and a sword tied unto the saddle-bow. And then Sir Launcelot leaped into the saddle, and gat that spear in his hand, and then he rode after the boar; and then Sir Launcelot was ware where the boar set his back to a tree, fast by an hermitage. Then Sir Launcelot ran at the boar with his spear. And therewith the boar turned him nimbly, and rove [_gashed_] out the lungs and the heart of the horse, so that Sir Launcelot fell to the earth, and or ever Sir Launcelot might get from the horse, the boar rove him on the brawn of the thigh, up to the hough bone. And then Sir Launcelot was wroth, and up he gat upon his feet, and drew his sword, and he smote off the boar's head at one stroke. And therewithal came out the hermit, and saw him have such a wound; then the hermit came to Sir Launcelot and bemoaned him, and would have had him home unto his hermitage. But when Sir Launcelot heard him speak, he was so wroth with his wound that he ran upon the hermit to have slain him, and the hermit ran away, and when Sir Launcelot might not overget him he threw his sword after him, for Sir Launcelot might go no farther for bleeding. Then the hermit turned again, and asked Sir Launcelot how he was hurt.

"Fellow," said Sir Launcelot, "this boar hath bitten me sore."

"Then come with me," said the hermit, "and I shall heal you."

"Go thy way," said Sir Launcelot, "and deal not with me."

Then the hermit ran his way, and there he met with a good knight with many men.

"Sir," said the hermit, "here is fast by my place the goodliest man that ever I saw, and he is sore wounded with a boar, and yet he hath slain the boar. But well I wot and he be not holpen, that goodly man shall die of that wound, and that were great pity."

Then that knight, at the desire of the hermit, gat a cart, and in that cart that knight put the boar and Sir Launcelot, for Sir Launcelot was so feeble that they might right easily deal with him. And so Sir Launcelot was brought unto the hermitage, and there the hermit healed him of his wound. But the hermit might not find Sir Launcelot's sustenance, and so he impaired and waxed feeble, both of his body and of his wit, for the default of his sustenance, and waxed more wood than he was aforehand. And then, upon a day, Sir Launcelot ran his way into the forest; and by adventure came into the city of Corbin, where dame Elaine was.

And so when he was entered into the town, he ran through the town to the castle; and then all the young men of the city ran after Sir Launcelot, and there they threw turfs at him, and gave him many sad strokes; and as Sir Launcelot might reach any of them, he threw them so that they would never more come in his hands, for of some he brake their legs, and some their arms, and so fled into the castle. And then came out knights and squires for to rescue Sir Launcelot, and when they beheld him and looked upon his person, they thought they saw never so goodly a man; and when they saw so many wounds upon him, they all deemed that he had been a man of worship. And then they ordained clothes unto his body, and straw underneath him, and a little house, and then every day they would throw him meat, and set him drink, but there were few or none that would bring meat to his hands.

* * * * *

So it befell that King Pelles had a nephew whose name was Castor, and he desired of the king his uncle for to be made knight; and so at the request of this Castor, the king made him knight at the feast of Candlemas. And when Castor was made knight, that same day he gave many gowns; and so Sir Castor sent for the fool, that was Sir Launcelot, and when [Sir Launcelot] saw his time, he went into the garden and there laid him down by a well and slept. And in the afternoon dame Elaine and her maidens went into the garden for to play them; and as they roamed up and down, one of dame Elaine's maidens espied where lay a goodly man by the well sleeping, and anon showed him to dame Elaine.

"Peace," said dame Elaine, "and say no word."

And then she brought dame Elaine where he lay. And when that she beheld him, anon she fell in remembrance of him, and knew him verily for Sir Launcelot, and therewithal she fell on weeping so heartily that she sank even to the earth. And when she had thus wept a great while, then she arose and called her maidens, and said she was sick. And so she went out of the garden, and she went straight to her father, and there she took him apart by himself, and then she said, "O father, now have I need of your help, and but if that ye help me, farewell my good days for ever."

"What is that, daughter?" said King Pelles.

"Sir," she said, "thus is it: in your garden I went for to sport, and there by the well I found Sir Launcelot du Lake sleeping."

"I may not believe that," said King Pelles.

"Sir," she said, "truly he is there, and me seemeth he should be distract out of his wit."

"Then hold you still," said the king, "and let me deal."

Then the king called to him such as he most trusted, four persons, and dame Elaine his daughter. And when they came to the well and beheld Sir Launcelot, anon dame Brisen knew him.

"Sir," said dame Brisen, "we must be wise how we deal with him, for this knight is out of his mind, and if we awake him rudely, what he will do we all know not. But ye shall abide, and I shall throw such an enchantment upon him that he shall not awake within the space of an hour."

And so she did. Then within a little while after King Pelles commanded that all people should avoid [_leave_], that none should be in that way there as the king would come. And so when this was done, these four men and these ladies laid hand on Sir Launcelot. And so they bare him into a tower, and so into the chamber where as was the [Holy Grail], and by force Sir Launcelot was laid by that holy vessel; and then there came an holy man and uncovered the vessel, and so by miracle, and by virtue of that holy vessel, Sir Launcelot was all healed and recovered. And when he was awaked, he groaned, and sighed sore, and complained greatly that he was passing sore.

And when Sir Launcelot saw King Pelles and dame Elaine, he waxed ashamed, and thus he said, "O good Lord Jesu, how came I here? for God's sake, my lord, let me wit how I came here."

"Sir," said dame Elaine, "into this country ye came like a mad man all out of your wit, and here ye have been kept as a fool, and no creature here knew what ye were till that by fortune a maid of mine brought me unto you where as ye lay sleeping by a well side, and anon as I verily beheld you I knew you; and then I told my father, and so ye were brought before this holy vessel, and by the virtue of it thus were ye healed."

"O Jesu, mercy!" said Sir Launcelot, "if this be sooth, how many be there that know of my woodness?"

"So God me help," said dame Elaine, "no moe [_more_] but my father and I and dame Brisen."

"Now for Christ's love," said Sir Launcelot, "keep it secret, and let no man know it in the world, for I am sore ashamed that I have been thus miscarried, for I am banished out of the country of Logris for ever, that is for to say the country of England."

And so Sir Launcelot lay more than a fortnight, or ever that he might stir for soreness.

* * * * *

And then after this King Pelles with ten knights, and dame Elaine and twenty ladies, rode unto the castle of Bliant, that stood in an island enclosed in iron, with a fair water, deep and large. And when they were there Sir Launcelot let call it the Joyous Isle, and there was he called none otherwise but Le Chevalier Mal Fait, _the knight that hath trespassed_. Then Sir Launcelot let make him a shield all of sable, and a queen crowned in the midst all of silver, and a knight, clean armed, kneeling before her; and every day once, for any mirths that all the ladies might make him, he would once every day look towards the realm of Logris where King Arthur and Queen Guenever were, and then would he fall upon weeping as though his heart should to-brast [_burst to pieces_]. So it fell that time that Sir Launcelot heard of a jousting fast by his castle, within three leagues. Then he called unto him a dwarf, and he bade him go unto that jousting, "and, or ever the knights depart, look thou make there a cry in the hearing of all the knights, that there is one knight in the Joyous Isle, that is the castle Bliant, and say that his name is Le Chevalier Mal Fait, that will joust against knights that will come; and who that putteth that knight to the worst shall have a fair maid and a gerfalcon."

So when this cry was made, unto Joyous Isle drew knights to the number of five hundred. And wit ye well there was never seen in Arthur's days one knight that did so much deeds of arms as Sir Launcelot did three days together. For he had the better of all the five hundred knights, and there was not one slain of them. And after that Sir Launcelot made them all a great feast. And in the meanwhile came Sir Percival de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris under that castle that was called the Joyous Isle. And as they beheld that gay castle they would have gone to that castle, but they might not for the broad water, and bridge could they find none. Then they saw on the other side a lady with a sperhawk in her hand, and Sir Percival called unto her, and asked that lady who was in that castle.

"Fair knight," she said, "here within this castle is the fairest lady in this land, and her name is Elaine. Also we have in this castle the fairest knight and the mightiest man that is, I dare say, living, and he calleth himself Le Chevalier Mal Fait."

"How came he into these marches?" said Sir Percival.

"Truly," said the damsel, "he came into this country like a mad man, with dogs and boys chasing him through the city of Corbin; and by the Holy Grail he was brought into his wit again, but he will not do battle with no knight but by underne [_nine in the morning_] or by noon. And if ye list to come into the castle, ye must ride unto the farther side of the castle, and there shall ye find a vessel that will bear you and your horse."

Then they departed and came unto the vessel. And then Sir Percival alighted and said unto Sir Ector de Maris, "Ye shall abide me here, until I know what manner of knight he is, for it were a great shame unto us, inasmuch as he is but one knight, and we should both do battle with him."

"Do as ye list," said Sir Ector de Maris, "here shall I abide you until that I hear of you again."

Then Sir Percival passed the water; and when he came unto the castle gate, he said to the porter, "Go thou unto the good knight within the castle, and tell him that here is come an errant knight to joust with him."

"Sir," said the porter, "ride ye within the castle, and there shall ye find a common place for jousting, that lords and ladies may behold you."

So anon as Sir Launcelot had warning, he was soon ready. And there Sir Percival and Sir Launcelot encountered with such a might, and their spears were so rude, that both the horses and the knights fell to the ground. And then they avoided their horses, and drew out their swords, and hewed away cantels [_pieces_] of their shields, and hurled together with their shields like two wild boars, and either wounded other passing sore. And at the last Sir Percival spake first, when they had fought more than two hours.

"Fair knight," said Sir Percival, "I require thee tell me thy name, for I met never with such a knight as ye are."

"Sir," said Sir Launcelot, "my name is Le Chevalier Mal Fait. Now tell me your name," said Sir Launcelot, "I require you, as ye are a gentle knight."

"Truly," said Sir Percival, "my name is Sir Percival de Galis, which is brother unto the good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis, and King Pellinore was our father, and Sir Agloval is my brother."

"Alas!" said Sir Launcelot, "what have I done, to fight with you that are a knight of the Round Table, that some time was your fellow in King Arthur's court?"

And therewithal Sir Launcelot kneeled down upon his knees, and threw away his shield and his sword from him. When Sir Percival saw him do so, he marvelled what he meant. And then thus he said, "Sir knight, whatsoever thou be, I require thee upon the high order of knighthood, tell me thy true name."

Then he said, "Truly my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benoy."

"Alas!" said Sir Percival, "what have I done! I was sent by the queen for to seek you, and so I have sought you nigh this two year; and yonder is Sir Ector de Maris your brother abideth me on the other side of the yonder water. Now I pray you forgive me mine offence that I have here done."

"It is soon forgiven," said Sir Launcelot.

Then Sir Percival sent for Sir Ector de Maris. And when Sir Launcelot had a sight of him, he ran unto him and took him in his arms, and then Sir Ector kneeled down and either wept upon other, that all had pity to behold them. Then came dame Elaine, and she there made them great cheer as might lie in her power; and there she told Sir Ector and Sir Percival how and in what manner Sir Launcelot came into that country, and how he was healed. And there it was known how long Sir Launcelot was with Sir Bliant and with Sir Seliaunt, and how he first met with them, and how he departed from them because of a boar; and how the hermit healed Sir Launcelot of his great wound, and how that he came to Corbin.

* * * * *

"Sir," said Sir Ector, "I am your own brother, and ye are the man in the world that I love most, and, if I understood that it were your disworship, ye may right well understand that I would never counsel you thereto; but King Arthur and all his knights, and in especial Queen Guenever, made such dole and sorrow that it was marvel to hear and see. And ye must remember the great worship and renown that ye be of, how that ye have been more spoken of than any other knight that is now living, for there is none that beareth the name now but ye and Sir Tristram. Therefore, brother," said Sir Ector, "make you ready to ride unto the court with us, and I dare well say there was never knight better welcome unto the court than ye. And I wot well and can make it good," said Sir Ector, "it hath cost my lady the queen twenty thousand pound the seeking of you."

"Well, brother," said Sir Launcelot, "I will do after your counsel and ride with you."

So then they took their horses, and made them ready, and took their leave of King Pelles and of dame Elaine; and when Sir Launcelot should depart, dame Elaine made great sorrow.

Then they departed, and within five days' journey they came to Camelot, which is called, in English, Winchester. And when Sir Launcelot was come among them, the king and all the knights made great joy of him; and there Sir Percival de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris began to tell of all the adventures, how Sir Launcelot had been out of his mind all the time of his absence, how he called himself Le Chevalier Mal Fait, as much as to say the knight that had trespassed, and in three days Sir Launcelot smote down five hundred knights. And ever as Sir Ector and Sir Percival told these tales of Sir Launcelot, Queen Guenever wept as she would have died; then afterward the queen made great joy.

"O Jesu!" said King Arthur, "I marvel for what cause ye, Sir Launcelot, went out of your mind?"

"My lord," said Sir Launcelot, "if I did any folly, I have found that I sought."

And so the king held him still, and spake no more; but all Sir Launcelot's kin knew for whom he went out of his mind. And then there were great feasts made and great joy, and many great lords and ladies, when they heard that Sir Launcelot was come to the court again, made great joy.

BOOK III

OF SIR GARETH OF ORKNEY

When Arthur held his Round Table most fully, it fortuned that he commanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be holden at a city and a castle, the which in those days was called King-Kenadon, upon the sands that marched [_bordered_] nigh Wales. So ever the king had a custom that at the feast of Pentecost, in especial afore other feasts in the year, he would not go that day to meat until he had heard or seen of a great marvel. And for that custom all manner of strange adventures came before Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts. And so Sir Gawaine, a little tofore noon of the day of Pentecost, espied at a window three men upon horseback and a dwarf on foot. And so the three men alighted, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the three men was higher than the other twain by a foot and a half. Then Sir Gawaine went unto the king and said, "Sir, go to your meat, for here at hand come strange adventures."

So Arthur went unto his meat with many other kings. And there were all the knights of the Round Table, save those that were prisoners or slain at a rencounter. Then at the high feast evermore they should be fulfilled the whole number of an hundred and fifty, for then was the Round Table fully accomplished. Right so came into the hall two men well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders there leaned the goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all saw, and he was large and long, and broad in the shoulders, and well visaged, and the fairest and the largest handed that ever man saw, but he fared as though he might not go nor bear himself but if he leaned upon their shoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him, there was made peace [_silence_] and room, and right so they went with him unto the high dais, without saying of any words. Then this big young man pulled him aback, and easily stretched up straight, saying, "King Arthur, God you bless, and all your fair fellowship, and in especial the fellowship of the Table Round. And for this cause I am come hither, to pray you and require you to give me three gifts, and they shall not be unreasonably asked, but that ye may worshipfully and honorably grant them me, and to you no great hurt nor loss. And as for the first gift I will ask now, and the other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth wheresoever ye hold your high feast."

"Now ask," said Arthur, "and ye shall have your asking."

"Now, sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give me meat and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask mine other two gifts."

"My fair son," said Arthur, "ask better, I counsel thee, for this is but a simple asking, for my heart giveth me to thee greatly that thou art come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit faileth me but thou shalt prove a man of right great worship."

"Sir," said he, "thereof be as it may, I have asked that I will ask."

"Well," said the king, "ye shall have meat and drink enough, I never defended that none, neither my friend nor my foe. But what is thy name I would wit?"

"I cannot tell you," said he.

"That is marvel," said the king, "that thou knowest not thy name, and thou art the goodliest young man that ever I saw."

Then the king betook him to Sir Kay, the steward, and charged him that he should give him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and also that he had all manner of finding as though he were a lord's son.

"That shall little need," said Sir Kay, "to do such cost upon him; for I dare undertake he is a villain born, and never will make man, for and he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and armor, but such as he is, so he asketh. And since he hath no name, I shall give him a name: that shall be Beaumains, that is Fairhands, and into the kitchen I shall bring him, and there he shall have fat browis [_broth_] every day, that he shall be as fat by the twelvemonth's end as a pork hog."