d they put Sir
Lancelot to bed again, and the hermit stanched the wound and gave the
knight a cordial, so that he awoke out of his swoon.

'Why have you put your life in jeopardy thus?' asked the hermit.

'For that I weary of being here,' said Sir Lancelot, 'and I would ride
forth again.'

'Ah, Sir Lancelot,' said the hermit, 'your heart and your courage will
never be done till your last day. But now ye must do as I command, and
stay till I say ye are hale again.'

Soon after this Sir Bors departed, and the hermit promised that if he
came back in a month, Sir Lancelot would be ready to depart with him.
Thus Sir Lancelot stayed in the hermitage, and ever did the fair maid
Elaine labour with diligence day and night to heal and comfort him, and
to keep the time from wearying him. And never was child meeker to her
parent, nor wife kinder to her husband, nor mother sweeter and more
tender to her child, than Elaine was to Sir Lancelot.

The knight sorrowed that this was so; and he ever bore himself
courteous, but not familiar in speech, for it grieved him that he had
no love in his heart for her, however deep might be her love for him.

When the month was over, Sir Bors returned and found Sir Lancelot
walking about the forest, hale and strong again and eager to be riding.

In a day they all made them ready to depart from the hermit, and to go
to King Arthur's court, which was then in London. The Lily Maid went
with them, sad that all her loving care was now ending, but glad to see
the noble air with which Sir Lancelot bestrode his horse, and thankful
that sometimes, as they rode upon their way, he turned to her smiling
gravely, and spoke of the bright sunlight, the birds and trees they
saw, and the company and travellers they passed.

Then they came to Astolat, and Sir Bernard gave them all great welcome,
and they were well feasted and well lodged.

On the morrow, when they should depart, the maid Elaine was pale and
very quiet, until Sir Lancelot came into the hall to say farewell. Then
the maid, bringing her father and her two brothers with her, went up to
Sir Lancelot and said:

'My lord, now I see that ye will depart. But oh, do thou have mercy
upon me, for I must say that which damsels and gentlewomen are not used
to say.'

Sir Lancelot with grave sad face looked at her and knew what she would
say, and in very heaviness of spirit replied:

'Lady, it grieves me that I have unwittingly put such grief upon you