TITLE I.
Here the story is silent of Lancelot, and saith that Messire Gawain goeth a great pace riding, and prayeth God that He will so counsel him that he may find the knight. He rideth until the day cometh to decline, and he lay in the house of a hermit in the forest, that lodged him well.
"Sir," saith the hermit to Messire Gawain, "Whom do you go seek?"
"Sir," saith he, "I am in quest of a knight that I would see right gladly."
"Sir," saith the hermit, "In this neighbourhood will you find no knight."
"Wherefore not?" saith Messire Gawain, "Be there no knights in this country?"
"There was wont to be plenty," saith the hermit, "But now no longer are there any, save one all alone in a castle and one all alone on the sea that have chased away and slain all the others."
"And who is the one of the sea?" saith Messire Gawain.
"Sir," saith the hermit, "I know not who he is, save only that the sea is hard by here, where the ship runneth oftentimes wherein the knight is, and he repaireth to an island that is under the castle of the Queen of the Maidens, from whence he chased an uncle of his that warred upon the castle, and the other knights that he had chased thence and slain were helping his uncle, so that now the castle is made sure. And the knights that might flee from this forest and this kingdom durst not repair thither for the knight, for they dread his hardiment and his great might, sith that they know well they might not long endure against him."
"Sir," saith Messire Gawain, "Is it so long a space sithence that he hath haunted the sea?"