"Sir," saith the priest, "I tell you of a truth that you may not enter the castle nor come nigher unto the Holy Graal, save you bring the sword wherewith S. John was beheaded." "What?" saith Messire Gawain, "Shall I be evilly entreated and I bring it not?" "So much may you well believe me herein," saith the priest, "And I tell you moreover that he who hath it is the fellest misbelieving King that lives. But so you bring the Sword, this entrance will be free to you, and great joy will be made of you in all places wherein King Fisherman hath power." "Then must I needs go back again," saith Messire Gawain, "Whereof I have right to be sore sorrowful." "So ought you not to be," saith the priest, "For, so you bring the sword and conquer it for us, then will it be well known that you are worthy to behold the Holy Graal. But take heed you remember him who would not ask whereof it served." Thereupon Messire Gawain departeth so sorrowful and full of thought that he remembereth not to ask in what land he may find the sword nor the name of the King that hath it. But he will know tidings thereof when God pleaseth. VI. The history telleth us and witnesseth that he rode so far that he came to the side of a little hill, and the day was right fair and clear. He looketh in front of him before a chapel and seeth a tall burgess sitting on a great destrier that was right rich and fair. The burgess espieth Messire Gawain and cometh over against him, and saluteth him right courteously and Messire Gawain him. "Sir," saith Messire Gawain, "God give you joy." "Sir," saith the goodman, "Right sorrowful am I of this that you have a horse so lean and spare of flesh. Better would it become so worshipful man as you seem to be that he were better horsed." "Sir," saith Messire Gawain, "I may not now amend it, whereof am I sorry; another shall I have when it shall please God." "Fair sir," saith the burgess, "Whither are you bound to go?" "I go seek the sword wherewith the head of S. John Baptist was cut off." "Ha, sir," saith the burgess, "You are running too sore a peril. A King hath it that believeth not in God, and is sore fell and cruel. He is named Gurgalain, and many knights have passed hereby that went thither for the sword, but never thence have they returned. But, and you are willing to pledge me your word that so God grant you to conquer the sword, you will return hither and show it me on your return, I will give you this destrier, which is right rich, for your own." "Will you?" saith Messire Gawain, "Then are you right courteous, for you know me not." "Certes, sir," saith he, "So worshipful man seem you to be, that you will hold well to this that you have covenanted with me." "And to this do I pledge you my word," saith Messire Gawain, "that, so God allow me to conquer it, I will show it to you on my return." VII.