'My lord, King Arthur, wit ye well that I am right heavy for the death of this fair damsel. God knoweth that I was never causer of her death by my will, as her brother Sir Lavaine here will avouch for me. She was both fair and good, and exceeding kind to me when I was wounded; but she loved me out of all measure, and of that I was sore heavy.' 'Ye might have loved her,' said the queen, weeping for sorrow at the hapless fate of one so fair and fond. 'Madam,' said Sir Lancelot, 'I could not be constrained to love her, but I sorrow for her death exceedingly.' 'Truth it is,' said the king, 'that love is free and never will be forced, for all the prayers that may be said to it. But thou wilt of thy worship bury this fair maid, Sir Lancelot?' 'That will I do,' said the knight, 'and in all richness and solemnity.' Thus was it done, and all the knights of the Round Table sorrowfully followed the body of the fair Elaine to the grave. On her tomb in letters of gold both thick and deep were set the words: 'Here lieth the body of Elaine, the Lily Maid of Astolat, who died of a passing great love' X HOW THE THREE GOOD KNIGHTS ACHIEVED THE HOLY GRAAL Now the time drew nigh which had been foretold by Merlin, before he had been snared by a greater wizardry than his, and buried alive beneath the great stone in the forest of Broceliande. He had prophesied that, with the coming of King Arthur, the island of Britain should grow in strength and fame, and her knights should be more valiant and more pure in word and deed than the knights of any other land. But that, in a little while, they would become proud, and finding that none could withstand them, they would use their strength evilly. To the court of King Arthur, as he sat in London, came tidings of how his barons warred with each other in remoter parts of his dominions, seizing the strong castles of each other, putting one another to death, and forsaking the ways of the Holy Church of Christ and turning to the idolatry of the old British pagans, some of whom still lurked and performed their evil rites in the desolate and secret places of the forests and the hills. The heart of the king was heavy as he sat thinking, and he wondered why this evil was entering into the hearts of his knights and barons. He resolved to take good counsel, and therefore commanded his clerk to come to him and bade him write down all his thoughts. Then he gave the letter to a trusty knight, named Sir Brewis, and bade him take it to the Archbishop of Britain, where he sat, an old and feeble man, in his great cathedral of St. Asaph, far on the verge of the western sea. He was the king's kinsman, and already known for his great sanctity as St. David. In a month the knight brought back the answer, which was in these words: