Then was Sir Gawain glad at heart, and he bound up his wounds forthwith with herbs of such virtue as should stay the bleeding; and he took Sir Lancelot and set him upon his steed, and turned him again towards the hermit's cell as best he might, for 'twas in both their minds that might they but come thither Sir Gawain should surely heal him. Thus did they ride until they had found the hermitage, and scarce had they come thither when they were ware of Morien with Sir Gariët and Sir Perceval, who came thither as at that time. Then was there joy and gladness manifold. The Hermit made ready food for his guests, and prepared a couch for Sir Lancelot as best he might. Each told the other how matters had fallen out with them, and Morien gave them to wit how it had fared with his father. That night were they well entreated by the hermit, but the morrow so soon as Sir Lancelot heard how it went with the queen, even should he gain the world thereby he had remained no longer, neither for wounds nor for weariness, for, he said, he was surely healed, and was fain to be at strife. Thus must they all ride forth, whether they would or no, with the early morning, for they might not lose a day. Sir Gawain would tend Sir Lancelot's wounds even as they rode on their way. Thus they journeyed till they heard true tidings of their lady, the queen; how that she was beset on all sides by the King of Ireland. He had burnt and laid waste so much men scarce knew the tale thereof, and the queen had he beset in a castle to which he himself laid siege. For he had sworn a great oath, nor would he lightly break it, that might he win the castle he should spare no man of all that were within, but should put such shame upon them, and on the queen, that men should speak thereof for all time. Thus had the king sworn by his crown, and by all that may bind a king, that he would do them bitter shame.