"Well, fair lady, since you know my name so well, and ask me on my knighthood to help you, I will try to get your hawk. But I am a poor climber, and the tree is high, with few boughs to help me."
"I trust you may," she replied, "for my life depends on your success."
Then Lancelot alighted and tied his horse to the tree, and begged the lady to help him remove his armor. When he was fully unarmed he climbed with much difficulty into the tree, and at length succeeded in reaching the hawk. He now tied the lines to a rotten branch and threw it and the bird down to the lady.
But as she picked it up with a show of joy, there suddenly came from a grove an armed knight, who rode rapidly up, with his drawn sword in his hand.
"Now, Lancelot du Lake," he cried, "I have you as I wanted you. Your day has come."
And he stood by the trunk of the tree, ready to slay him when he should descend.
"What treason is this?" demanded Lancelot. "False woman, why have you led me into this?"
"She did as I bade her," said Phelot. "I hate you, Lancelot, and have laid this trap for you. You have fought your last fight, my bold champion, for you come out of that tree but to your death."
"That would be a shameful deed," cried Lancelot, "for you, an armed knight, to slay a defenceless man through treachery."
"Help yourself the best you can," said Phelot; "you get no grace from me."