he Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

TITLE I.

And the story is here silent of Perceval, and saith that Lancelot goeth
his way and rideth by a forest until he findeth a castle amidst his way
at the head of a launde, and seeth at the gateway of the castle an old
knight and two damsels sitting on a bridge. Thitherward goeth he, and
the knight and damsels rise up to meet him, and Lancelot alighteth.

"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "Welcome may you be."

The damsels make great joy of him and lead him into the castle. "Sir,"
saith the Vavasour, "Sore need had we of your coming."

He maketh him go up into the hall above and be disarmed of his arms.
"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "Now may you see great pity of these two
damsels that are my daughters. A certain man would reave them of this
castle for that no aid nor succour have they save of me alone. And
little enough can I do, for I am old and feeble, and my kin also are of
no avail, insomuch that hitherto have I been able to find no knight
that durst defend me from the knight that is fain to reave this castle
from me. And you seem to be of so great valiance that you will defend
me well herein to-morrow, for the truce cometh to an end to-night."

"How?" saith Lancelot, "I have but scarce come in hither to lodge, and
you desire me so soon already to engage myself in battle?"

"Sir," saith the Vavasour, "Herein may it well be proven whether there
be within you as much valour as there seemeth from without to be. For,
and you make good the claim of these two damsels that are my daughters
to the fiefs that are of right their own, you will win thereby the love
of God as well as praise of the world."

They fall at his feet weeping, and pray him of mercy that they may not
be disherited. And he raiseth them forthwith, as one that hath great
pity thereof.

"Damsels," saith he, "I will aid you to my power. But I would fain
that the term be not long."

"Sir," say they, "to-morrow is the day, and to-morrow, so we have no
knight to meet him that challengeth this castle, we shall have lost it.
And our father is an old knight, and hath no longer lustihood nor force
whereby he might defend it for us, and all of our lineage are fallen
and decayed. This hatred hath fallen on us on account of Messire
Gawain, whom we harboured."

Lancelot lay there the night within the castle and was right well
lodged and worshipfully entreated. And on the morrow he armed himself
whe