"I have charged you," he said, "to keep in your own hands the sword Excalibur and its scabbard, yet well I know that both sword and scabbard will be stolen from you by a woman whom you foolishly trust, and that your lack of wisdom will bring you near to your death. This also I may say, you will miss me deeply. When I am gone you would give all your lands to have me again. For Merlin will find no equal in the land."
"That I well know already," said the king. "But, since you foresee so fully what is coming upon you, why not provide for it, and by your craft overcome it?"
"No," said Merlin, "that may not be. Strong I am, but destiny is stronger. There is no magic that can set aside the decrees of fate."
Soon afterwards the damsel departed from the court, but her doting old lover followed her wherever she went. And as he sought to practise upon her some of his subtle arts, she made him swear, if he would have her respond to his love, never to perform enchantment upon her again.
This Merlin swore. Then he and Nimue crossed the sea to the land of Benwick, the realm of King Ban, who had helped King Arthur so nobly in his wars, and here he saw young Lancelot, the son of King Ban and his wife Elaine, who was in the time to come to win world-wide fame.
The queen lamented bitterly to Merlin the mortal war which King Claudas made upon her lord and his lands, and the ruin that she feared.
"Be not disturbed thereby," said Merlin. "Your son Lancelot shall revenge you upon King Claudas, so that all Christendom shall ring with the story of his exploits. And this same youth shall become the most famous knight in the world."
"O Merlin!" said the queen, "shall I live to see my son a man of such prowess?"
"Yes, my lady and queen, this you shall see, and live many years to enjoy his fame."
Soon afterwards Merlin and his lady-love returned to England and came to Cornwall, the magician showing her many wonders of his art as they journeyed. But he pressed her so for her love that she grew sorely weary of his importunate suit, and would have given aught less than her life to be rid of him, for she feared him as one possessed of the arts of the foul fiend. But say or do what she would, her doting lover clung to her all the more devotedly, and wearied her the more with his endless tale of love.