, "He saith true, for his mother was daughter of
a rich earl of the kingdom of Logres."

III.

Messire Gawain was well harboured the night and lay in a right fair
house and right rich. In the morning, when Messire Gawain had heard
mass, the hermit asked him, "Whitherward go you?" and he said, "Toward
the land of King Fisherman, and God allow me."

"Messire Gawain," saith the hermit, "Now God grant you speed your
business better than did the other knight that was there before you,
through whom are all the lands fallen into sorrow, and the good King
Fisherman languisheth thereof."

"Sir," saith Messire Gawain, "God grant me herein to do His pleasure."

Thereupon he taketh his leave and goeth his way, and the hermit
commendeth him to God. And Messire Gawain rideth on his journeys until
he hath left far behind the forest of the hermitage, and findeth the
fairest land in the world and the fairest meadowlands that ever had he
seen, and it lasted a good couple of great leagues Welsh. And he seeth
a high forest before him, and meeteth a squire that came from that
quarter, and seeth that he is sore downcast and right simple.

"Fair friend," saith Messire Gawain, "Whence come you?"

"Sir," saith he, "I come from yonder forest down below."

"Whose man are you?" saith Messire Gawain.

"I belong to the worshipful man that owneth the forest."

"You seem not over joyful," saith Messire Gawain.

"Sir, I have right to be otherwise," saith the squire, "For he that
loseth his good lord ought not to be joyful."

"And who is your lord?"

"The best in the world."

"Is he dead?" saith Messire Gawain.

"Nay, of a truth, for that would be right sore grief to the world, but
in joy hath he not been this long time past."

"And what name hath he?"

"They call him Parlui there where he is."

"And where then, is he, may I know?"

"In no wise, Sir, of me; but so much may I well tell you that he is in
this forest, but I ought not to learn you of the place more at large,
nor ought I to do any one thing that may be against my master's will."

Messire Gawain seeth that the squire is of passing comeliness and seeth
him forthwith bow his head toward the ground and the tears fall from
his eyes. Thereupon he asketh what aileth him.

"Sir," saith he, "Never may I have joy until such time as I be entered
into a hermitage to save my soul. For the greatest sin that any man
may do have I wrought; for I have slain my mother that was