"Certes, Sir, that I am not, but sore need will there be that I should have it, nor never did knight refuse to do the thing I asked nor deny me any boon I demanded of him. Now God grant you be not the most churlish."
"Ha, damsel, I am right sore wounded in the arm whereon I hold my shield."
"Sir," saith she, "I know it well, nor never may you be heal thereof save you bring me the head of the knight."
"Damsel," he saith, "I will essay it whatsoever may befal me thereof."
IX.
King Arthur looketh amidst the launde and seeth that they that have come thither have cut the knight to pieces limb by limb, and that each is carrying off a foot or a thigh or an arm or a hand and are dispersing them through the forest. And he seeth that the last knight beareth on the point of his spear the head. The King goeth after him a great gallop and crieth out to him: "Ha, Sir knight, abide and speak to me!"
"What is your pleasure?" saith the knight.
"Fair Sir," saith the King, "I beseech you of all loves that you deign to give me the head of this knight that you are carrying on the point of your lance."
"I will give it you," saith the knight, "on condition."
"What condition?" saith the King.