Willingly heareth Perceval this that his uncle telleth and recordeth
him. He relateth how he did battle with the devil-knight that bare in
his shield the head of a dragon that cast forth fire and flame, and how
the dragon burnt up his lord at the last.
"Fair nephew," saith the hermit, "Right glad am I of these tidings that
you tell me, for I have been borne on hand that the Knight of the
Golden Circlet had slain him."
"Sir," saith Perceval, "It may well be, but never at any time saw I
knight so big and horrible."
"Fair nephew," saith the Hermit, "None might overcome him save the Good
Knight only, for all true worshipful men behoveth do battle with the
Devil, nor never may he be worshipful man that fighteth not against
him. And even as the devil withal that was figured on his shield slew
and burnt up his master, even so doth one devil torment and molest
other in the world to come; and greater evil might not the Knight of
the Devil do you than burn the body of your uncle's son that he had
killed, as I have heard tell. Power had he over his body, but, please
God, not over his soul to burn it."
"Fair uncle," saith Perceval, "I went thither by a Turning Castle,
where were archers of copper that shot bolts, and bears and lions
chained at the entrance of the gateway. So soon as I drew nigh and
smote thereon with my sword the castle stopped still."
"Fair nephew," said King Hermit, "Nought had the Devil outwardly
besides this castle. It was the entrance to his fortress, nor would
they within ever have been converted save you had been there."
"Sir," saith he, "Right sorrowful am I of Messire Gawain and Lancelot,
for well I loved their fellowship, and great aid would they have been
in my need."
"Fair nephew, had they been chaste as are you, well might they have
entered on account of their good knighthood. For were they not wanton,
the two best knights in the world are they.