King Lot, a squire of handsome mien,
who asked of the king a gift.

"Ask, and I shall grant it," answered the king.

"I ask that you make me knight on the day you wed fair Guenever."

"That shall I do willingly," said Arthur, "and with what worship I may,
since you are my nephew, my sister's son."

[Here it is proper to say that Arthur had three sisters, the daughters
of Queen Igraine and her first husband, the Duke of Tintagil. One of
these, Margawse, had married King Lot, and had four sons, all of whom
became valiant knights; Elaine, the second, had married King Neutres of
Garlot; the third sister, Morgan le Fay, had been put to school, where
she became learned in the art of necromancy; of the fourth the
chronicles fail to speak.]

Hardly had Gawaine spoken when there came riding into the court a poor
man, who brought with him a fair-faced youth, of eighteen years of age,
riding upon a lean mare.

"Sir, will you grant me a gift?" the old man asked of the king. "I was
told that you would at the time of your marriage grant any gift that was
asked for in reason."

"That is true," said the king. "What would you have?"

"Jesu save you, most gracious king. I ask nothing more than that you
make my son a knight."

"It is a great thing you ask," said the king. "Who are you, and what
claim has your son to this high honor?"

"I am but a cowherd, great sir, and am the father of thirteen sons. But
this one is unlike all the rest. He will do no labor, and cares for
nothing but warlike sports, and seeing knights and battles. And day and
night he craves for knighthood."

"What is thy name?" the king asked the young man.

"Sir, my name is Tor."

The king looked at him closely. He was of handsome face, and was very
well made and strong of limb and body.

"Where is the sword with which this youth shall be made knight?" asked
the king.

"It is here," said Tor.

"Then draw it from the scabbard, and require me to make you a knight."

At these words the youth sprang lightly and gladly from his mare, drew
the sword, and kneeled before the king, asking him in earnest tones to
make him a Knight of the Round Table.

"A knight I will make you," answered the king. "But the Round Table is
not for untried youth."

Thereupon he smote him upon the neck with the sword, and said,--

"Be you a good knight, and I pray God you may be so. If you prove of
prowess and worth I promise you shall in good time have a seat at the
Round