Then was Sir Lancelot passing wroth, and cried, “Thou traitor! Thou hast shamed me for ever!” and, alighting from his horse, he drew his sword to have slain him instantly; but the knight fell on the ground and clasped Sir Lancelot’s knees, and cried out for mercy. “Thou shameful knight,” answered Lancelot, “thou mayest have no mercy, for thou showedst none, therefore arise and fight with me.”
“Nay,” said the knight, “I will not rise till thou dost grant me mercy.”
“Now will I deal fairly by thee,” said Sir Lancelot; “I will unarm me to my shirt, and have my sword only in my hand, and if thou canst slay me thou shall be quit for ever.”
“That will I never do,” said the knight.
“Then,” answered Sir Lancelot, “take this lady and the head, and bear it with thee, and swear to me upon thy sword never to rest until thou comest to Queen Guinevere.”
“That will I do,” said he.
“Now,” said Sir Lancelot, “tell me thy name.”
“It is Pedivere,” answered the knight.
“In a shameful hour wert thou born,” said Sir Lancelot.
So Sir Pedivere departed, bearing with him the dead lady and her head. And when he came to Winchester, where the Queen was with King Arthur, he told them all the truth; and afterwards did great and heavy penance many years, and became an holy hermit.