minded to marry, will we set in
good place, where she may live worshipfully."

"Certes, fair brother," saith she, "None shall I never marry, save God
alone."

"Fair son," saith the Widow Lady, "The Damsel of the Car goeth to seek
you, and I shall end not until such time as she hath round you."

"Lady," saith he, "In some place will she have tidings of me and I of
her."

"Fair son," saith the Lady, "The damsel is here within that the
felonous knight wounded through the arm, that carried of your sister,
but she is healed."

"Lady," saith he, "I am well avenged."

He telleth her all the adventures until the time when he reconquered
the castle that was his uncle's. He sojourned long time with his
mother in the castle, and saw that the land was all assured and
peaceable. He departed thence and took his leave, for he had not yet
achieved all that he had to do. His mother remained long time, and his
sister, at Camelot, and led a good life and a holy. The lady made make
a chapel right rich about the sepulchre that lay between the forest and
Camelot, and had it adorned of rich vestments, and stablished a
chaplain that should sing mass there every day. Sithence then hath the
place been so builded up as that there is an abbey there and folk of
religion, and many bear witness that there it is still, right fair.
Perceval was departed from Camelot and entered into the great forest,
and so rode of a long while until he had left his mother's castle far
behind, and came toward evening to the hold of a knight that was at the
head of the forest. He harboured him therein, and the knight showed
him much honour and made him be unarmed, and brought him a robe to do
on. Perceval seeth that the knight is a right simple man, and that he
sigheth from time to time.

XII.

"Sir," saith he, "Meseemeth you are not over joyous."

"Certes, Sir," saith the knight, "I have no right to be, for a certain
man slew mine own brother towards the Deep Forest not long since, and
no right have I to be glad, for a worshipful man was he and a loyal."

"Fair Sir," saith Perceval, "Know you who slew him?"

"Fair Sir, it was one of Aristor's knights, for that he was sitting
upon a horse that had been Aristor's, and whereon another knight had
slain him, and a hermit had lent him to my brother for that the Red
Knight's lion had maimed his own."

Perceval was little glad of these tidings, for that he had sent him
that had been slain on account of