'How ever that be,' said Sir Gawaine, 'you should know that you love the noblest knight in all the world, the most honourable and one of the most worth.'
'So thought me ever,' said the maid of Astolat, proudly smiling; 'for never have I seen a knight that I could love but that one.'
'And never hath he borne token or sign of any lady or gentlewoman before he bore thine,' said Sir Gawaine.
At these words the maid Elaine could have swooned for very joy, for she deemed that Sir Lancelot had borne her token for love of her. Therefore, she was cast more deeply in love with him than ever.
'But I dread me,' went on Sir Gawaine, 'for I fear we may never see him in this life again.'
'Alas! alas!' cried Elaine, throwing herself at the feet of the knight, and clutching his arm tightly, while she gazed with terror into his face. 'How may this be? oh, say not—say not that he is—is——'
She could not say the word, but Sir Gawaine made answer.
'I say not so, but wit ye well that he is grievously wounded.'
'Alas!' cried Elaine, 'what is his hurt? Where is he? Oh, I will go to him instantly.'
She rose, wildly ringing her slender hands.