“My lord,” answered Sir Bedivere, “your commandment shall be done,” and he departed. But when he looked at that noble sword, and beheld the jewels and gold that covered the pommel and hilt, he said to himself, “If I throw this rich sword into the water no good will come of it, but only harm and loss;” so he hid Excalibur under a tree, and returned unto the King and told him his bidding was done. “What did you see there?” asked the King.
“Sir,” answered Sir Bedivere. “I saw nothing but the winds and the waves.”
“You have not dealt truly with me,” said the King. “Go back, and do my command; spare not, but throw it in.” But again Sir Bedivere’s heart failed him, and he hid the sword, and returned to tell the King he had seen nothing but the [wan] water.
“Ah, traitor!” cried King Arthur, “this is twice you have betrayed me. If you do not now fulfil my bidding, with mine own hands will I slay you, for you would gladly see me dead for the sake of my sword.” Then Sir Bedivere was shamed at having disobeyed the King, and drew forth the sword from its hiding-place, and carried it to the water-side, and with a mighty swing threw it far into the water. And as it flew through the air, an arm and hand lifted itself out of the water, and caught the hilt, and brandished the sword thrice, and vanished with it beneath the water. So Sir Bedivere came again unto the King, and told him what he saw.
“Alas!” said the King, “help me hence, for I have tarried overlong;” and Sir Bedivere took him on his back, and bare him to the water-side. And when they stood by the bank, a little barge containing many fair ladies and a Queen, all in black hoods, drew near, and they wept and shrieked when they beheld King Arthur.
“Now put me into the barge,” said the King, and Sir Bedivere laid him softly down, and the ladies made great mourning, and the barge rowed from the land.
“Ah, my lord Arthur!” cried Sir Bedivere, “what shall become of me now you go from me, and I am left here alone with my enemies?”
“Comfort yourself,” replied the King, “and do as well as you may, for I go unto the valley of Avilion, to be healed of my grievous wound. And if you never more hear of me, pray for my soul.” But Sir Bedivere watched the barge till it was beyond his sight, then he rode all night till he came to a hermitage. Now when Queen Guenevere heard of the battle, and how that King Arthur was slain and Sir Mordred and all their Knights, she stole away, and five ladies with her, and rode to Amesbury; and there she put on clothes of black and white, and became a nun, and did great penance, and many [alms deeds], and people marvelled at her and at her godly life. And ever she wept and moaned over the years that were past, and for King Arthur.
As soon as the messenger whom the King had sent with Sir Gawaine’s letter reached Sir Lancelot, and he learned that Sir Mordred had taken for himself the crown of England, he rose up in wrath, and, calling Sir Bors, bid him collect their host, that they should pass at once over the sea to avenge themselves on that false Knight. A fair wind blew them to Dover, and there Sir Lancelot asked tidings of King Arthur. Then the people told him that the King was slain, and Sir Mordred, and an hundred thousand men besides, and that the King had buried Sir Gawaine in the chapel at Dover Castle. “Fair Sirs,” said Sir Lancelot, “show me that tomb;” and they showed it to him, and Sir Lancelot kneeled before it, and wept and prayed, and this he did for two days. And on the third morning he summoned before him all the great lords and leaders of his host, and said to them, “Fair lords, I thank you all for coming here with me, but we come too late, and that will be bitter grief to me as long as I shall live. But since it is so, I will myself ride and seek my lady Guenevere in the west country, where they say she has gone, and tarry you here, I entreat you, for fifteen days, and if I should not return take your ships and depart into your own country.”