_I ween that he who made the tale of Lancelot and set it in rhyme forgot, and was heedless of, the fair adventure of Morien. I marvel much that they who were skilled in verse and the making of rhymes did not bring the story to its rightful ending._ Now as at this time King Arthur abode in Britain, and held high court, that his fame might wax the greater; and as the noble folk sat at the board and ate, there came riding a knight; for 'twas the custom in Arthur's days that while the king held court no door, small nor great, should be shut, but all men were free to come and go as they willed. Thus the knight came riding where the high folk sat, and would fain have dismounted, but so sorely was he wounded that he might not do so. In sooth he was in evil case, for he had more than ten wounds, and from the least of them a man might scarce recover; he came in such guise that his weapons and his vesture and his steed, which was fair and tall, were all dyed red with his own blood. The knight was sad at heart and sorely wounded, yet he greeted, as best he might, all the lords then in the hall; but more he might not speak, for the pain of his wounds. Then my lord, Sir Gawain, who did full many a courtesy (for such was his wont all his life long), so soon as he saw the knight, sprang up with no delay, and lifted him from the saddle and set him upon the ground, but he might neither sit, nor walk, nor so much as stand upon his feet, but fell upon the earth. Then Sir Gawain bade them carry him softly on a couch to the side of the hall in the sight of the chief guests, that they might hear his tale. But since he might scarce speak he made him to be disarmed, and stripped to the skin, and wrapped in warm coverings and gave him a sop steeped in clear wine. Then Sir Gawain began to search his wounds, for in those days, so far as God suffered the sun to shine might no man find one so skilled in leech-craft, for that man whom he took in his care, were the life but left in him, would neither lack healing nor die of any wound. Then spake the knight who lay there: "Woe is me, for I may neither eat nor drink; my heart beginneth to sink, mine eyes fail me, methinks I am about to die! Yet might I live, and would God grant to me that all ye who sit here beside me might hear my words, I had fain spoken with the king, whom I sought as best I might, in that I would not be forsworn; needs must I come hither!" Then quoth Sir Gawain the good: "Sir Knight, have ye no dread of death as at this time, for I shall help you to a respite." He drew forth from his pouch a root that had this virtue, that it stayed the flow of blood and strengthened the feeble; he placed it in the knight's mouth, and bade him eat a little; therewith was his heart lightened, and he began to eat and to drink, and forgat somewhat of his pain.