Thereupon King Arthur said, “Thou shalt have thy boon, though my heart much misgiveth me that thou wilt suffer great ill and misfortune from this adventure.” [Sidenote: _King Arthur makes Griflet a knight._] So that night Griflet kept watch upon his armor in a chapel of the forest, and, in the morning, having received the Sacrament, he was created a knight by the hand of King Arthur--and it was not possible for any knight to have greater honor than that. Then King Arthur fastened the golden spurs to Sir Griflet’s heels with his own hand. So Griflet was made a knight, and having mounted his charger, he rode straightway upon his adventure, much rejoicing and singing for pure pleasure. And it was at this time that Sir Myles died of his hurt, for it is often so that death and misfortune befall some, whiles others laugh and sing for hope and joy, as though such grievous things as sorrow and death could never happen in the world wherein they live. Now that afternoon King Arthur sat waiting with great anxiety for word of that young knight, but there was no word until toward evening, when there came hurrying to him certain of his attendants, proclaiming that Sir Griflet was returning, but without his shield, and in such guise that it seemed as though a great misfortune had befallen him. And straightway thereafter came Sir Griflet himself, sustained upon his horse on the one hand by Sir Constantine and upon the other by Sir Brandiles. And, lo! Sir Griflet’s head hung down upon his breast, and his fair new armor was all broken and stained with blood and dust. And so woful was he of appearance that King Arthur’s heart was contracted with sorrow to behold that young knight in so pitiable a condition. So, at King Arthur’s bidding, they conducted Sir Griflet to the Royal Pavilion, and there they laid him down upon a soft couch. Then the King’s chirurgeon searched his wounds and found that the head of a spear and a part of the shaft thereof were still piercing Sir Griflet’s side, so that he was in most woful and grievous pain. And when King Arthur beheld in what a parlous state Sir Griflet lay he cried out, “Alas! my dear young knight, what hath happened thee to bring thee unto such a woful condition as this which I behold?” [Sidenote: _Sir Griflet telleth how he was hurt._]