.'

'Nay, man, nay, that cannot be,' said Sir Lancelot, half angry, half
denying. 'She hath come to me because I was sick, and because I wore
her token in my helm, that's all.'

'Wise art thou in all knightly prowess, Sir Lancelot,' said Sir Bors,
'and full courteous and kindly art thou to all ladies and damsels. But
I fear thou knowest not the heart of this fair maid. For it hath been
easy for me to see by her looks this way how she is jealous of my
talking to thee, and I know from her diligence about thee that she
loveth thee with all her heart.'

'If that be so, then, by Heaven, I sorrow it is so,' said Sir Lancelot
heavily. 'And I must send her from me forthwith.'

'Why shouldst thou do that, fair cousin?' said Sir Bors. 'She is a
passing fair damsel and well taught, and I would that thou couldst love
her in return. But as to that, I may not nor dare not counsel thee. For
I know that love blows where it listeth and will be forced by none.'

'It repenteth me sorely,' said Sir Lancelot, and he was heavy in spirit
thereafter, and was eager to get whole again and to go away.

In four or five days he made a plot with Sir Bors, that he should rise
and clothe himself in his armour and get upon his horse, and in this
way show to the hermit and to the maid Elaine that indeed and in truth
he was strong enough to ride forth. Therefore they made excuses and
sent both the hermit and the maid away into the forest to gather herbs.

Sir Lancelot rose from his bed, and Sir Bors helped him to put on his
armour and to mount his horse. And so eager was the knight to feel that
he was hale again that he put his lance in rest and spurred his horse,
and so furiously did he ride across the mead, as if he rode at a
knight, that of a sudden his wound broke out again, and he swooned and
fell from his horse to the ground.

Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine made great sorrow and dole as they raised him
and carried him back to the hermitage. It befell that Elaine, who had
not gone far, heard their cries and came running swiftly, and seeing
Sir Lancelot borne between them pale as with death, she cried and wept
and kneeled beside him, and put her arms about his neck and kissed him
many times, and called to him to wake him.

'O traitors that ye are,' she cried to her brother and to Sir Bors,
'why have ye let him go from his bed? Oh, if ye have slain him I will
denounce you for his murderers.'

Therewith came the holy hermit and was right wroth, an