"You may live to change your mind," said Morgan. "Prison life and prison fare may cure your pride."
With these words they departed, leaving Lancelot in gloom of mind but steadfastness of heart.
At noon, the damsel who had brought him his supper the night before came with his dinner, and asked him again how he fared.
"Never so ill," said Lancelot. "For never before was I held under lock and key, and never was worthy knight so shamefully entreated."
"It grieves me deeply to see you in such distress," she said. "If you will be ruled by me, and make me a promise, you shall be set free from this prison, though at the risk of my life."
"I will grant your wish if it be in my power," said Lancelot. "These queenly sorceresses have destroyed many a good knight, and I would give much to be out of their hands."
"They crave your love from what they have heard of your honor and renown," answered the damsel. "They say your name is Lancelot du Lake, the flower of knights, and your refusal of their love has filled their souls with anger. But for my aid you might die in their hands. The promise I ask is this. On Tuesday morning next there is to be a tournament between my father and the King of Northgalis. My father was lately overpowered by three of Arthur's knights, and if you will be there and help him in this coming fray I will engage to deliver you from your bondage at dawn to-morrow."
"Tell me your father's name," said Lancelot, "and then you shall have my answer."
"His name is King Bagdemagus."
"I know him well," said Lancelot. "He is a noble king and a good knight. By the faith of my body, I promise to give him what aid I can."