th to him: "Sir, small blame ought you to have
herein, for you were confirmed in the law that God hath established and
in loyalty of marriage of King Lot and your mother. This thing King
Arthur well knoweth, and our Lord God be praised for that, you have
come hither!"

BRANCH XXIV.

TITLE I.

Here the story is silent of the kingdom, and of King Arthur and Messire
Gawain that remain in the castle to maintain and guard it until they
shall have garnished it of folk. Here speaketh it word of the knight's
son of the Waste Manor, there whither the brachet led Messire Gawain
where he found the knight that Lancelot had slain. He had one son
whose name was Meliant, and he had not forgotten his father's death;
rather, thereof did wrath rankle in his heart. He heard tell that
Briant of the Isles had great force and great puissance, and that he
warred upon King Arthur's land, insomuch as that he had already slain
many of his knights. Thitherward goeth he, and is come to where Briant
was in a castle of his own. He telleth him how Lancelot had slain his
father in such sort, and prayeth him right courteously that he would
make him knight, for that right fain would he avenge his father, and
therefore would he help him in the war the best he might. Briant made
much joy thereof, and made him knight in right costly sort, and he was
the comeliest knight and the most valiant of his age in Briant's court,
and greatly did he desire to meet with Lancelot. They marvelled much
in the land and kingdom what had become of him. The more part thought
that he was dead, albeit dead he was not, but rather sound and hale and
whole, had it not been for the death of Queen Guenievre, whereof the
sorrow so lay at his heart that he might not forget it. He rode one
day amidst a forest, and overtook a knight and a damsel that made great
joy together, singing and making disport.

"By God," saith the damsel, "If this knight that cometh here will
remain, he shall have right good lodging. It is already nigh eventide,
and never will he find hostel so good to-day."

"Damsel." saith Lancelot, "Of good hostel have I sore need, for I am
more than enough weary."

"So be all they," saith she, "that come from the land of the rich King
Fisherman, for none may suffer the pain and travail and he be not good
knight."

II.

"Ah, damsel," saith Lancelot, "Which is the way to the castle whereof
you speak?"

"Sir," saith the knight, "You will go by th