"Did he better than Messire Gawain?" saith Lancelot. "Sir, so did they adjudge him; for that he was a longer time in the assembly." "A good knight was he, then," saith Lancelot, "sith that he did better than Messire Gawain!" "By my head," saith the damsel, "You say true, for he is the Best Knight of the World." "And what shield beareth he?" saith Lancelot. "Sir," saith the damsel, "At the assembly he bore white arms, but before that, he had arms of another semblance, and one shield that he had was green, and one gold with a green cross." "Damsel," saith he, "Did Messire Gawain know him?" "Sir, not at all, whereof is he right sorrowful." "Is he, then," saith he, "Perceval, the son of the Widow Lady?" "By my head, you say true!" "Ha, God!" saith Lancelot, "the more am I mazed how Messire Gawain knew him not. Damsel," saith he, "And know you whitherward they are gone?" "Sir," saith she, "I know not whither, nor have I any tidings, neither or the one nor the other." He departeth from the damsel and rideth until the sun was set. He found the rocks darkling and the forest right deep and perilous of seeming. He rode on, troubled in thought, and weary and full of vexation. Many a time Looketh he to right and to left, and he may see any place where he may lodge. A dwarf espied him, but Lancelot saw him not. The dwarf goeth right along a by-way that is in the forest, and goeth to a little hold of robber-knights that lay out of the way, where was a damsel that kept watch over the hold. The robbers had another hold where was the damsel where the passing knights are deceived and entrapped. The dwarf cometh forthright to the damsel, and saith: "Now shall we see what you will do, for see, here cometh the knight that hanged your uncle grid your three cousins german." "Now shall I have the best of him," saith she, "as for mine own share in this matter, but take heed that you be garnished ready to boot." "By my head," saith the dwarf, "that will I, for, please God, he shall not escape us again, save he be dead." The damsel was of passing great beauty and was clad right seemingly, but right treacherous was she of heart, nor no marvel was it thereof, for she came of the lineage of robbers and was nurtured on theft and robbery, and she herself had helped to murder many a knight. She is come upon the way, so that Lancelot hath to pass her, without her kerchief. She meeteth Lancelot and saluteth him and maketh him right great joy, of semblant. "Sir," saith she, "Follow this path that goeth into the forest, and you will find a hold that my forefathers stablished for harbouring of such knights as might be passing through the forest. The night is dark already, and if you pass on further no hold will you find nearer than a score leagues Welsh."