Then spake Sir Galahad, the noble prince, “We suppose that knight is injured and that he is never like to see you nor any of us all, and that is the greatest pity that ever we knew of any knight.”
“Alas,” said Arthur, “how may this be? Is he so hurt? What is his name?”
“Truly,” said they all, “we know not his name, nor from whence he came nor whither he went.”
“Alas,” said the King, “this be to me the worst tidings that came to me this seven year, for I would not for all the lands I possess to know that that noble knight were slain.”
“Know ye him?” said they all.
“As for that,” said Arthur, “whether I know him or not, ye shall not know from me what man he is, but God send me good tidings of him.”
“If it so be that the good knight be so sore hurt,” said Sir Gawain, “it is great damage and pity to all this land, for he is one of the noblest knights that ever I saw in a field handle a spear or a sword; and if he may be found, I shall find him, for I am sure he is not far from this town.”
Right so Sir Gawain took a squire with him and rode all about Camelot within six or seven miles, but so he came again and could hear no word of him. Then within two days King Arthur and all the fellowship returned unto London again.
And so as they rode by the way, it happened that Sir Gawain lodged with Sir Bernard where was Sir Lancelot lodged. And Sir Bernard and his daughter, Elaine, came to him to cheer him and to ask him who did best at that tournament.
“There were two knights,” said Sir Gawain, “that bore two white shields, but one of them bore a red sleeve upon his head and certainly he was one of the best knights that ever I saw joust in field. For I dare say, that one knight with the red sleeve smote down forty knights of the Table Round and his fellow did right well and honorably.”