She cometh toward the dead knight, thinking that his wounds should have begun to bleed afresh, but they did not.
"Sir," saith she to Messire Gawain, "Welcome may you be!"
"Damsel," saith he. "God grant you greater joy than you have!"
And the damsel saith to the brachet: "It was not this one I sent you back to fetch, but him that slew this knight."
"Know you then, damsel, who hath slain him?" saith Messire Gawain.
"Yea," saith she, "well! Lancelot of the Lake slew him in this forest, on whom God grant me vengeance, and on all them of King Arthur's court, for sore mischief and great hurt have they wrought us! But, please God, right well shall this knight yet be avenged, for a right fair son hath he whose sister am I, and so hath he many good friends withal."
"Damsel, to God I commend you!" saith Messire Gawain. With that, he issueth forth of the Waste Manor and betaketh him back to the way he had abandoned, and prayeth God grant he may find Lancelot of the Lake.