"Sir, so did they adjudge him; for that he was a longer time in the assembly."
"A good knight was he, then," saith Lancelot, "sith that he did better than Messire Gawain!"
"By my head," saith the damsel, "You say true, for he is the Best Knight of the World."
"And what shield beareth he?" saith Lancelot.
"Sir," saith the damsel, "At the assembly he bore white arms, but before that, he had arms of another semblance, and one shield that he had was green, and one gold with a green cross."
"Damsel," saith he, "Did Messire Gawain know him?"
"Sir, not at all, whereof is he right sorrowful."
"Is he, then," saith he, "Perceval, the son of the Widow Lady?"
"By my head, you say true!"
"Ha, God!" saith Lancelot, "the more am I mazed how Messire Gawain knew him not. Damsel," saith he, "And know you whitherward they are gone?"