Lancelot seeth the damsel of right great beauty and weeping tenderly, whereof hath he passing great pity. "Hold, Sir!" saith Lancelot to the knight, "this shall you not do! You shall not do such shame to so fair a damsel as that you shall fail to keep covenant with her. For not a knight is there in the kingdom of Logres nor in that of Wales but ought to be right well pleased to have so fair a damsel to wife, and I pray and require that you do to the damsel that whereof you held her in covenant. This will be a right worshipful deed, and I pray and beseech that you do it, and thereof shall I be much beholden unto you." "Sir," saith the knight, "I have no will thereunto, nor for no man will I do it, for ill would it beseem me." "By my head, then," saith Lancelot, "the basest knight are you that ever have I seen, nor ought dame nor damsel ever hereafter put trust in you, sith that you are minded to put such disgrace upon this lady." "Sir," saith the knight, "a worthier lover have I than this, and one that I more value; wherefore as touching this damsel will I do nought more than I have said." "And whither, then, mean you to take her?" saith Lancelot. "I mean to take her to a hold of mine own that is in this forest, and to give her in charge to a dwarf of mine that looketh after my house, and I will marry her to some knight or some other man." "Now never God help me," saith Lancelot, "but this is foul churlishness you tell me, and, so you do not her will, it shall betide you ill of me myself, and, had you been armed as I am, you should have felt my first onset already." "Ha," saith the damsel to Lancelot, "Be not so ready to do him any