of Albanie have sent to King Arthur and told him that and he would
not lose the land for evermore he must send them Lancelot, for never
saw they knight that better knew how to avenge him on his enemies and
to do them hurt than was he. The King asketh Briant of the Isles how
it is that his knights are dead in such sort?

"Sir," saith Briant, "Madeglant hath great force of people, and what
force of men soever may run upon them, they make a castle of their navy
in such sort that none may endure against them, and never did no folk
know so much of war as do they. The land lieth far away from you, and
more will it cost you to hold it than it is worth; and, if you will
believe my counsel, you will trouble yourself no more about it, and
they of the country would be well counselled and they did the same."

"Briant," saith the King, "This would be great blame to myself. No
worshipful man ought to be idle in guarding and holding that which is
his own. The worshipful man ought not to hold of things so much for
their value as for their honour, and if I should leave the land
disgarnished of my aid and my counsel, they will take mine, and will
say that I have not heart to protect my land; and even now is it great
shame to myself that they have settled themselves there and would fain
draw away them of the land to their evil law. And I would fain that
Lancelot had achieved that he hath undertaken, and I would have sent
him there, for none would protect the land better than he, and, were he
now there along with forty knights and with them of the country,
Madeglant would make but short stay there."

"Sir," saith Briant, "They of the country reckon nought of you nor any
other but Lancelot only, and they say that and you send him there they
will make him King."

"It may well be that they say so," saith the King, "But never would
Lancelot do aught that should be against my will."

"Sir," saith Briant, "Sith that you are not minded to believe me, I
will say no more in this matter, but in the end his knighthood will
harm you rather than help you and you take no better heed thereof than
up to this time you have done."

BRANCH XXX.

TITLE I.

Of Briant of the Isles the story is here silent, whom King the
believeth too much in many things, and saith that Lancelot goeth his
way right through the forest, full heavy in thought. He had not ridden
far when he met a knight that was right sore wounded. He asked him
whence he came and