In the meanwhile, came a lady from the castle and cried, “Oh, Sir Lancelot! as thou art the flower of all knights in the world, help me to get my hawk, for she hath slipped away from me, and if she be lost, my lord my husband is so hasty, he will surely slay me!”
“What is thy lord’s name?” said Sir Lancelot.
“His name,” said she, “is Sir Phelot, a knight of the King of Northgales.”
“Fair lady,” said Sir Lancelot, “since you know my name, and require me, on my knighthood, to help you, I will do what I can to get your hawk.”
And thereupon alighting, he tied his horse to the same tree, and prayed the lady to unarm him. So when he was unarmed, he climbed up and reached the falcon, and threw it to the lady.
Then suddenly came down, out of the wood, her husband, Sir Phelot, all armed, with a drawn sword in his hand, and said, “Oh, Sir Lancelot! now have I found thee as I would have thee!” and stood at the trunk of the tree to slay him.
“Ah, lady!” cried Sir Lancelot, “why have ye betrayed me?”
“She hath done as I commanded her,” said Sir Phelot, “and thine hour is come that thou must die.”
“It were shame,” said Lancelot, “for an armed to slay an unarmed man.”
“Thou hast no other favour from me,” said Sir Phelot.