XIX.
"Lady," saith Perceval, "Great praise ought you to have of this that you say; but you may well tell him of a truth that the sick King his brother hath all his land freely and his daughter, for I was at the reconquering thereof, and know the knight well that gave it back unto him. But of the golden cup can I give you no witting."
"Sir," saith she, "The damsel is to bear it to an assembly of knights that is to be held hard by this, under the White Tower. There hath she to give it to the best knight, and him that shall do best at the assembly, and the knight that followeth the damsel is bound to carry it whither he that shall win it may command, and if he would fain it should be given to another rather than to himself."
"Lady," saith Perceval, "Well meseemeth that he who shall win the cup by prize of arms will be right courteous and he send it to you, and God grant that he that hath it may do you such bounty as you desire."
"Sir," saith she, "Methinketh well, so Lancelot were there, either he or Messire Gawain, that, and they won it, so they remembered them of me, and knew how needful it were to me, they would promise me the cup."
"Lady," saith Perceval, "By one of these twain ought you well to have it, for greater prize now long since have they won."
She goeth to her lord and saith to him: "Sir," saith she, "Now may you be more joyous than is your wont, for that your brother hath his land again all quit. For the knight that is within was at the reconquering."
The Sick Knight heard her and had great joy thereof.
"Go!" saith he to his wife, "and do great honour to the knight, but take heed you sit not otherwise than you are wont."
"Sir," saith she, "I will not."