A damosel of an hundred years of age, would ye not do better to let make yourself a nun, and wear white clothes and black, and end your days in alms’ deeds and prayers and fastings in an abbey?
The Stranger.
I require upon covenant that ye grant my will!
Arthur.
Aye, dame; what the King hath promised on his avows shall not be gainsayed!... Ho, Sir Knights: Sir Kay, Sir Bors and Sir Bleoberis, Sir Gawayne and Sir Meliogrance, and all the worshipful company! [The Knights come hastening from the banqueting-hall, the Ladies also.] Which of ye will emprise an adventure of passing peril? [The Knights press forward eagerly, saying: “I, Sir King!... Sir, I am your fellow!... Oh, my liege, choose me!... Nay, then; me!” The King, however, finds it hard to break the news.] It is required of us upon covenant, in recompensation for our deliverance that one of ye.... Oh, how can I say the word! ... that one of ye shall take and wed this dame unto his wife!
[A horrified exclamation goes up from the Knights on this, while the Ladies seem inclined to laugh.]
Sir Bors.
Is not this questing in the dark? Will not the lady show us her visage?
Arthur.