came riding hitherwards
this morning, I saw in the snow where a hawk had torn a thrush, and the
blood lay on the whiteness of the ground. I stopped and gazed upon it,
for I thought of the white life of Christ who gave His blood to save us
all. Then I wondered whether the blood that He had shed upon the cruel
Cross would ever be so pitiful a thing in men's minds that this dear
Britain of ours would be rid of the evil which seems to be creeping
into it, and in place thereof would turn as white as the sheets of snow
that now lay over all the fields and ways. As I thought thus, I sank
deeper and deeper in my thoughts. Suddenly I felt one strike me on the
arm with the flat of his sword. I turned and saw a knight, who asked me
why I gaped like a mooncalf at the torn bird. I told him it was my
pleasure so to do. He asked if it was my pleasure to have to do with
him, but I said I would liefer pursue my thoughts again. Nevertheless,
he would not let me in quiet, and I drew my sword and beat him in my
anger to the ground. When my squire unlaced his helm he knew him for
Sir Kay, and told some passing men to bear him unto the court.

'So have I punished him both for the insult to my friend and squire and
to myself.'

Men marvelled at the quiet speech and gentle looks and manners of one
whose fame for great deeds was in all men's mouths; and Sir Gawaine
said:

'Of a truth, young chieftain, it had served Sir Kay rightly if ye had
slain him, and he should thank thee for sparing him.'

The other knights agreed that Sir Kay had done most unknightly in thus
picking a quarrel with one who had not offended, and he had merited
defeat.

Thereupon King Arthur knighted Perceval, and they made him great cheer
and welcome; and the king knew in his heart that this was one of the
three good knights whom St. David had spoken of, and he wondered who
were the other two.

It chanced that seven nights before, the good Sir Bors had fared forth
from the court of Arthur to seek knightly adventures. And his spirit
was joyful as he rode, for he felt that some great adventure was to
come to him, howbeit he knew not why he felt this was to be.

Northward he fared through the land, and the snow had not yet fallen,
but so mild was the season that men's thoughts had stirred towards
spring. For many days he journeyed and the ways were more lonely, the
country more desolate, the rocky hills more bare. He wondered why it
was that the land seemed so forsake