VIII.
"Sir," saith she, "This castle is at your commandment, and you will remain therein, and well may you know my thought towards you. Would that your thought were the same towards me."
"Damsel," saith he, "I seek the healing of a knight that may not be healed save I bring him the head of one of your serpents."
"Certes, Sir, so hath it been said. But I bade the damsel say so only for that I was fain you should come back hither to me."
"Damsel," saith he, "I have come back hither, and so may I turn back again sith that of the serpent's head is there no need."
"Ha, Lancelot," saith she, "How good a knight are you, and how ill default do you make in another way! No knight, methinketh, is there in the world that would have refused me save only you. This cometh of your folly, and your outrage, and your baseness of heart! The griffons have not done my will in that they have not slain you or strangled you as you slept, and, so I thought that they would have power to slay you, I would make them come to slay you now. But the devil hath put so much knighthood into you that scarce any man may have protection against you. Better ought I to love you dead than alive. By my head, I would fain that your head were hanged with the others that hang at the entrance of the gateway, and, had I thought you would have failed me in such wise I would have brought my father hither to where you were sleeping, and right gladly would he have slain you."