"Damsel," saith the hermit, "Nought will I tell you concerning him, for I know not of a certainty where he is, save this, that he hath lain in this chapel twice, not once only, within this twelvemonth." "Sir," saith she, "Will you tell me no more of him, nor none other witting?" "In no wise," saith the hermit. "And you, Messire Gawain?" saith she. "Damsel," saith he, "As fainly would I see him as you, but none find I that may tell me tidings of him." "And the damsel of the Car, Sir, have you seen her?" "Yea, lady," saith he, "It is but just now sithence that I left her." "Carried she still her arm slung at her neck?" "Yea," saith Messire Gawain, "in such wise she carried it." "Of a long while," saith the damsel, "hath she borne it thus." "Sir," saith the hermit, "how are you named?" "Sir," saith he, "Gawain am I called, King Arthur's nephew." "Thereof I love you the better," saith the hermit. "Sir," saith the damsel, "You are of kindred to the worst King that is." "Of what King speak you?" saith Messire Gawain. "I speak," saith she, "of King Arthur, through whom is all the world made worser, for he began doing well and now hath become evil. For hatred of him hate I a knight that found me nigh S. Augustine's Chapel, and yet was he the comeliest knight that saw I ever. He slew a knight within the bar right hardily. I asked him for the head of the knight and he went back for the same and set himself in sore peril. He brought it me, and I made him great joy, but when he told me his name was Arthur I had no fainness of the bounty he had done me, for that he