rest
thyself and be at ease." And therewith she set down the candles of wax
upon a table and quitted the room and Sir Ewaine was left alone.

And Sir Ewaine was very weary, wherefore he laid aside his armor and
disrobed himself and laid himself down upon that fair soft bed with
great joy of comfort. And straightway thereafter he fell asleep as
though he were a little weary child.

Now about the twelfth hour of the night and whilst Sir Ewaine lay thus
asleep, he became aware of a great disturbance--the sound of weeping and
a great outcry of lamentation that filled the entire silence of the
night.

[Sidenote: _Sir Ewaine beholdeth the funeral at night._]

Anon came the damsel Elose, and she said: "Sir Ewaine, the knight Sir
Sagron is dead whom thou wounded yesterday, and now they are bearing him
to the church. Come and see!" So Sir Ewaine arose quickly and covered
himself with a cloak, and he went with the damsel to a certain window
that overlooked a street of the town. From that window and beneath him
he beheld a great concourse of people that filled the entire street.
Many of those were clad in armor of proof and others bare torches so
that the entire night was aflame with the light thereof. And there were
many women who rode upon horseback beside the armed knights. And all of
this great assembly of people were crying out in lamentation so that it
was as though all the hollow beneath the space of heaven were full of
the voice of their sorrow. With this lamentation of many voices were
mingled the sound of trumpets and the chaunting of priests and acolytes
who recited the services for the dead. In the midst of all the press
there was a bier, and over the bier there had been spread a veil of
white linen and upon the bier there lay stretched the knight-champion of
that place with his hands crossed upon his sword. All about the bier
were many people carrying long candles of wax, and these also added
their lamentation to the voices of those others who lamented.

Then when Sir Ewaine beheld this spectacle he said: "Woe is me, Elose,
this is surely a very sorry sight to behold! Now I grieve me greatly
that I am the cause of this, for I meant not to slay that knight. Yet in
the heat of battle who may stay the hand for to measure the stroke that
one giveth to his enemy?"

[Sidenote: _Sir Ewaine beholdeth the Lady Lesolie of the Fountain._]

Then anon as Sir Ewaine still gazed upon that scene, he beheld that a
lady follow