"Do your worst," cried Gawaine, hotly. "And get you gone from here as fast as you can. We shall soon come after, and tumble your strongest castle upon your head."
"That shall not need," said Lancelot. "You may find me ready to meet you in open field."
"There have been words enough," said Gawaine. "Deliver the queen and take yourself away."
"If I had looked for so short a reception I would have thought twice before coming," answered Lancelot, proudly. "If the queen had been as dear to me as you would make her, I durst have kept her from the best fellowship of knights under heaven."
Then he turned to Guenever and said, in full hearing of the king and all there,—
"Madam, now I must depart from you and this noble fellowship forever. Since it is so, I beseech you to pray for me. And if you be slandered by any false tongues, send me word, my lady, and if one knight's hands may deliver you by battle, I shall deliver you."
Then Lancelot kissed the queen, and said openly to all present,—
"Now let me see who there is in this place that dare say Queen Guenever is not true unto my lord King Arthur! Let him speak who dare speak."
He looked proudly around the hall, from right to left, but no voice came in answer. Then he took the queen by the hand and led her to the king, and delivered her to his royal hand. This done, Lancelot turned and walked from the hall with haughty stride; and there was neither duke, earl, nor king, baron nor knight, lady or maiden, that wept not at the sorrowful parting, except Sir Gawaine. And when Lancelot took his horse to ride out of Carlisle there was sobbing and weeping from all the people who had gathered in the streets to see him depart. And so he took his way to Joyous Gard, which ever after he called Dolorous Gard. And thus departed Sir Lancelot du Lake from the court of King Arthur forever.
He now called his fellowship about him, and asked them what they would do.