In the city wherein Lancelot had arrived were many waste houses and
rich palaces fallen down. He had scarce entered within the city when
he heard a great cry and lamentation of dames and damsels, but he knew
not on which side it was, and they say: "Ha, God, how hath the knight
betrayed us that slew the knight, inasmuch as he returneth not! This
day is the day come that he ought to redeem his pledge! Never again
ought any to put trust in knight, for that he cometh not! The others
that came hither before him have failed us, and so will he also for
dread of death; for he smote off the head of the comeliest knight that
was in this kingdom and the best, wherefore ought he also to have his
own smitten off, but good heed taketh he to save it if he may!"
Thus spake the damsels. Lancelot much marvelled where they might be,
for nought could he espy of them, albeit he cometh before the palace,
there where he slew the knight. He alighteth, then maketh fast his
horse's reins to a ring that was fixed in the mounting-stage of marble.
Scarce hath he done so, when a knight alighteth, tall and comely and
strong and deliver, and he was clad in a short close-fitted jerkin of
silk, and held the axe in his hand wherewith Lancelot had smitten off
the head of the other knight, and he came sharpening it on a whetstone
to cut the better. Lancelot asketh him, "What will you do with this
axe?"
"By my head," saith the knight, "That shall you know in such sort as my
brother knew when you cut off his head, so I may speed of my business."
"How?" saith Lancelot, "Will you slay me then?"
"That shall you know," saith he, "or ever you depart hence. Have you
not loyally promised hereof that you would set your head in the same
jeopardy as the knight set his, whom you slew without defence? And no
otherwise may you depart therefrom. Wherefore now come forward without
delay and kneel down and stretch your neck even as my brother did, and
so will I smite off your head, and, if you do nor this of your own good
will, you shall soon find one that shall make you do it perforce, were
you twenty knights as good as you are one. But well I know that you
have not come hither for this, but only to fulfil your pledge, and that
you will raise no contention herein."
Lancelot thinketh to die, and is minded to abide by that he hath in
covenant without fail, wherefore he lieth down on the ground as it were
on a cross, and crieth mercy of God. He mindeth him of the Queen, and
crieth God of mercy and saith, "Ha, Lady" saith he, "Never shall I see
you more! but, might I have seen you yet once again before I die,
exceeding great comfort had it been to me, and my soul would have
departed from me more at ease. But this, that never shall I see you
more, as now it seemeth me, troubleth me more than the death whereby
behoveth me to die, for die one must when one hath lived long enough.
But faithfully do I promise you that my love shall fail you not yet,
and never shall it be but that my soul shall love you in the other
world like as my body hath loved you in this, if thus the soul may
love!"
With that the tears fell from his eyes, nor, never sithence that he was
knight, saith the story, had he wept for nought that had befallen him
nor for heaviness of heart, but this time and one other. He taketh
three blades of grass and so eateth thereof in token of the holy
communion, then signeth him of the cross and blesseth him, riseth up,
setteth himself on his knees and stretcheth forth his neck. The knight
lifteth up the axe. Lancelot heareth the blow coming, boweth his head
and the axe misseth him. He saith to him, "Sir Knight, so did not my
brother that you slew; rather, he held his head and neck quite still,
and so behoveth you to do!"
Two damsels appeared at the palace-windows of passing great beauty, and
they knew Lancelot well. So, as the knight was aiming a second blow,
one of the damsels crieth to him, "And you would have my love for
evermore, throw down the axe and cry the knight quit! Otherwise have
you lost me for ever!"
The knight forthwith flingeth down the axe and falleth at Lancelot's
feet and crieth mercy of him as of the most loyal knight in the world.
"But you? Have mercy on me, you! and slay me not!" saith Lancelot,
"For it is of you that I ought to pray mercy!"
"Sir," saith the knight, "Of a surety will I not do this! Rather will
I help you to my power to save your life against all men, for all you
have slain my brother."
The damsels come down from the palace and are come to Lancelot.