Thereupon behold you the damsel that is his.
"Sir," saith she, "Full long time have I been seeking you. Behold here
the head of a knight that I carry hanging at the bow of my saddle, in
this rich casket of ivory that you may see, and by none ought he to be
avenged but by you alone. Discharge me thereof, fair Sir, of your
courtesy, for I have carried it too long a time, and this King Arthur
knoweth well and Messire Gawain, for each hath seen me at court along
with the head, but they could give me no tidings of you, and my castle
may I not have again until such time as he be avenged."
"Who, then, was the knight, damsel?" saith Perceval.
"Sir, he was son of your uncle Bruns Brandalis, and were he on live,
would have been one of the best knights in the world."
"And who slew him, damsel?" saith Perceval.
"Sir, the Knight of the Deep Forest that leadeth the lion, foully in
treason there where he thought him safe. For had he been armed in like
manner as was the other, he would not have slain him."
"Damsel," said Perceval, "This grieveth me that he hath slain him, and
it grieveth me likewise of mine uncle King Hermit, whom I would avenge
more willingly than all the men in the world, for he was slain on my
account."