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upon the door, and prayed to enter. At that a child came out, to whom he said, “Fair child, pray the good man thy master to come hither and let in a knight who is sore wounded.”

Anon came out the knight-hermit, whose name was Sir Baldwin, and asked, “Who is this wounded knight?”

“I know not,” said Sir Lavaine, “save that he is the noblest knight I ever met with, and hath done this day such marvellous deeds of arms against King Arthur that he hath won the prize of the tourney.”

Then the hermit gazed long on Sir Lancelot, and hardly knew him, so pale he was with bleeding, yet said he at the last, “Who art thou, lord?”

Sir Lancelot answered feebly, “I am a stranger knight adventurous, who laboureth through many realms to win worship.”

“Why hidest thou thy name, dear lord, from me?” cried Sir Baldwin; “for in sooth I know thee now to be the noblest knight in all the world—my lord Sir Lancelot du Lake, with whom I long had fellowship at the Round Table.”

“Since ye know me, fair sir,” said he, “I pray ye, for Christ’s sake, to help me if ye may.”

“Doubt not,” replied he, “that ye shall live and fare right well.”

Then he staunched his wound, and gave him strong medicines and cordials till he was refreshed from his faintness and came to himself again.

Now after the jousting was done King Arthur held a feast, and asked to see the knight with the red sleeve that he might take the prize. So they told him how that knight had ridden from the field wounded nigh to death. “These be the worst tidings I have heard for many years,” cried out the king; “I would not for my kingdom he were slain.”

Then all men asked, “Know ye him, lord?”

“I may not tell ye at this time,” said he; “but would to God we had good tidings of him.”

Then Sir Gawain prayed leave to go and seek that knight, which the king gladly gave him. So forthwith he mounted and rode many leagues round Camelot, but could hear no tidings.

Within two days thereafter King Arthur and his knights returned from Camelot, and Sir Gawain chanced to lodge at Astolat, in the house of Sir Bernard. And there came in the fair Elaine to him, and prayed him news of the tournament, and who won the prize. “A knight with a white shield,” said he, “who bare a red sleeve in his helm, smote down all comers and won the day.”

At that the visage of Elaine changed suddenly from white to red, and heartily she thanked our Lady.

Then said Sir Gawain, “Know ye that knight?” and urged her till she told him that it was her sleeve he wore. So Sir Gawain knew it was for love that she had given it; and when he heard she kept his proper shield he prayed to see it.

As soon as it was brought he saw Sir Lancelot’s arms thereon, and cried, “Alas! now am I heavier of heart than ever yet.”

“Wherefore?” said fair Elaine.

“Fair damsel,” answered he, “know ye not that the knight ye love is of all knights the noblest in the world, Sir Lancelot du Lake? With all my heart I pray ye may have joy of each other, but hardly dare I think that ye shall see him in this world again, for he is so sore wounded he may scarcely live, and is gone out of sight where none can find him.”

Then was Elaine nigh mad with grief and sorrow, and with piteous words she prayed her father that she might go seek Sir Lancelot and her brother. So in the end her father gave her leave, and she departed.

And on the morrow came Sir Gawain to the court, and told how he had found Sir Lancelot’s shield in Elaine’s keeping, and how it was her sleeve which he had worn; whereat all marvelled, for Sir Lancelot had done for her more than he had ever done for any woman.

But when Queen Guinevere heard it she was beside herself with wrath, and sending privily for Sir Bors, who sorrowed sorely that through him Sir Lancelot had been hurt—“Have ye now heard,” said she, “how falsely Sir Lancelot hath betrayed me?”

“I beseech thee, madam,” said he, “speak not so, for else I may not hear thee.”

“Shall I not call him traitor,” cried she, “who hath worn another lady’s token at the jousting?”

“Be sure he did it, madam, for no ill intent,” replied Sir Bors, “but that he might be better hidden, for never did he in that wise before.”

“Now shame on him, and thee who wouldest help him,” cried the queen.

“Madam, say what ye will,” said he; “but I must haste to seek him, and God send me soon good tidings of him.”

So with that he departed to find Sir Lancelot.

Now Elaine had ridden with full haste from Astolat, and come to Camelot, and there she sought throughout the country for any news of Lancelot. And so it chanced that Sir Lavaine was riding near the hermitage to exercise his horse, and when she saw him she ran up and cried aloud, “How doth my lord Sir Lancelot fare?”

Then said Sir Lavaine, marvelling greatly, “How know ye my lord’s name, fair sister?”

So she told him how Sir Gawain had lodged with Sir Bernard, and knew Sir Lancelot’s shield.

Then prayed she to see his lord forthwith, and when she came to the hermitage and found him lying there sore sick and bleeding, she swooned for sorrow. Anon, as she revived, Sir Lancelot kissed her, and said, “Fair maid, I pray ye take comfort, for, by God’s grace, I shall be shortly whole of this wound, and if ye be come to tend me, I am heartily bounden to your great kindness.” Yet was he sore vexed to hear Sir Gawain had discovered him, for he knew Queen Guinevere would be full wroth because of the red sleeve.

So Elaine rested in the hermitage, and ever night and day she watched and waited on Sir Lancelot, and would let none other tend him. And as she saw him more, the more she set her love upon him, and could by no means withdraw it. Then said Sir Lancelot to Sir Lavaine, “I pray thee set some to watch for the good knight Sir Bors, for as he hurt me, so will he surely seek for me.”

Now Sir Bors by this time had come to Camelot, and was seeking for Sir Lancelot everywhere, so Sir Lavaine soon found him, and brought him to the hermitage.

And when he saw Sir Lancelot pale and feeble, he wept for pity and sorrow that he had given him that grievous wound. “God send thee a right speedy cure, dear lord,” said he; “for I am of all men most unhappy to have wounded thee, who art our leader, and the noblest knight in all the world.”

“Fair cousin,” said Sir Lancelot, “be comforted, for I have but gained what I sought, and it was through pride that I was hurt, for had I warned ye of my coming it had not been; wherefore let us speak of other things.”

So they talked long together, and Sir Bors told him of the queen’s anger. Then he asked Sir Lancelot, “Was it from this maid who tendeth you so lovingly ye had the token?”

“Yea,” said Sir Lancelot; “and would I could persuade her to withdraw her love from me.”

“Why should ye do so?” said Sir Bors; “for she is passing fair and loving. I would to heaven ye could love her.”

“That may not be,” replied he; “but it repenteth me in sooth to grieve her.”

Then they talked of other matters, and of the great jousting at Allhallowtide next coming, between King Arthur and the King of North Wales.

“Abide with me till then,” said Sir Lancelot, “for by that time I trust to be all whole again, and we will go together.”

So Elaine daily and nightly tending him, within a month he felt so strong he deemed himself full cured. Then on a day, when Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine were from the hermitage, and the knight-hermit also was gone forth, Sir Lancelot prayed Elaine to bring him some herbs from the forest.

When she was gone he rose and made haste to arm himself, and try if he were whole enough to joust, and mounted on his horse, which was fresh with lack of labour for so long a time. But when he set his spear in the rest and tried his armour, the horse bounded and leapt beneath him, so that Sir Lancelot strained to keep him back. And therewith his wound, which was not wholly healed, burst forth again, and with a mighty groan he sank down swooning on the ground.

At that came fair Elaine and wept and piteously moaned to see him lying so. And when Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine came back, she called them traitors to let him rise, or to know any rumour of the tournament. Anon the hermit returned and was wroth to see Sir Lancelot risen, but within a while he recovered him from his swoon and staunched the wound. Then Sir Lancelot told him how he had risen of his own will to assay his strength for the tournament. But the hermit bad him rest and let Sir Bors go alone, for else would he sorely peril his life. And Elaine, with tears, prayed him in the same wise, so that Sir Lancelot in the end consented.

So Sir Bors departed to the tournament, and there he did such feats of arms that the prize was given between him and Sir Gawain, who did like valiantly.

And when all was over he came back and told Sir Lancelot, and found him so nigh well that he could rise and walk. And within a while thereafter he departed from the hermitage and went with Sir Bors, Sir Lavaine, and fair Elaine to Astolat, where Sir Bernard joyfully received them.

But after they had lodged there a few days Sir Lancelot and Sir Bors must needs depart and return to King Arthur’s court.

So when Elaine knew Sir Lancelot must go, she came to him and said, “Have mercy on me, fair knight, and let me not die for your love.”

Then said Sir Lancelot, very sad at heart, “Fair maid, what would ye that I should do for you?”

“If I may not be your wife, dear lord,” she answered, “I must die.”

“Alas!” said he, “I pray heaven that may not be; for in sooth I may not be your husband. But fain would I show ye what thankfulness I can for all your love and kindness to me. And ever will I be your knight, fair maiden; and if it chance that ye shall ever wed some noble knight, right heartily will I give ye such a dower as half my lands will bring.”

“Alas! what shall that aid me?” answered she; “for I must die,” and therewith she fell to the earth in a deep swoon.

Then was Sir Lancelot passing heavy of heart, and said to Sir Bernard and Sir Lavaine, “What shall I do for her?”

“Alas!” said Sir Bernard, “I know well that she will die for your sake.”

And Sir Lavaine said, “I marvel not that she so sorely mourneth your departure, for truly I do as she doth, and since I once have seen you, lord, I cannot leave you.”

So anon, with a full sorrowful heart, Sir Lancelot took his leave, and Sir Lavaine rode with him to the court. And King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table joyed greatly to see him whole of his wound, but Queen Guinevere was sorely wroth, and neither spake with him nor greeted him.

Now when Sir Lancelot had departed, the Maid of Astolat could neither

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