“What is your lord’s name?” asked Sir Lancelot.
“Sir,” she answered, “it is Sir Phelot, a knight of the King of Northgalis.”
“Fair lady,” said Lancelot, “since you know my name, and require me on my knighthood to help you, I will do what I may to get your hawk, though I am but an ill climber.” So he alighted, tied his horse to the tree, and prayed the lady to unarm him. When he was unarmed, he put off all his clothes save his shirt and breeches, and then climbed the tree, and rescued the falcon, the which he tied to a rotten branch and threw it down to the lady. Suddenly the lady’s husband, Sir Phelot, came out of the castle all armed, and said, “Now, Sir Lancelot, I have found thee as I would have thee.”
“Ah, lady,” said Lancelot, “why have you betrayed me?”
“She hath done as I commanded her,” answered Sir Phelot. “There is no escape for thee; thine hour hath come when thou must die.”
Lancelot entreated him to let him at least have his sword, and then he would encounter him, even without armour. But Sir Phelot answered, “I know thee too well for that; thou shalt get no weapon, if I can prevent it.”
“Alas,” said Lancelot, “that ever knight should die weaponless!” So he looked about him, and saw over his head a great bough of the tree that was leafless. This he broke off by pure might, and then suddenly sprang from the tree, so that his horse stood between him and Sir Phelot. Then Sir Phelot came round the horse, and struck at him, meaning to have slain him. But Lancelot cunningly warded the blow with the bough, and then struck the knight so mightily on the side of the head with it that he stunned him. Then Lancelot took the sword from his hand, and struck his head from his body. When the lady saw that her husband was dead, she cried out and swooned away. But Lancelot got on his armour as fast as he could, for he feared lest more enemies should come from the knight’s castle. Then he got on his horse and rode away, and thanked God that he had escaped unscathed from that adventure.
So after this Sir Lancelot arrived at the court, two days before the Feast of Pentecost; and King Arthur and all the court were glad of his coming. And all the knights that he had rescued from Sir Turquine came and gave him honour and praise. And those knights whom he had stricken down while he wore Sir Kay’s armour were passing glad when they knew it was Sir Lancelot that had put them to the worse. So at that time Sir Lancelot had the greatest name of any knight in the world, and was the most honoured, both by high and low.