such a
shame for to hurt you that are all our leader, and all our worship; and
therefore I call myself unhappy. Alas that ever such a caitiff-knight as
I am should have power by unhappiness to hurt the most noblest knight of
the world. Where I so shamefully set upon you and overcharged you, and
where ye might have slain me, ye saved me; and so did not I, for I and
your blood did to you our utterance. I marvel, said Sir Bors, that my
heart or my blood would serve me, wherefore my lord, Sir Launcelot, I
ask your mercy. Fair cousin, said Sir Launcelot, ye be right welcome;
and wit ye well, overmuch ye say for to please me, the which pleaseth
me not, for why I have the same I sought; for I would with pride have
overcome you all, and there in my pride I was near slain, and that was
in mine own default, for I might have given you warning of my being
there. And then had I had no hurt, for it is an old said saw, there
is hard battle thereas kin and friends do battle either against other,
there may be no mercy but mortal war. Therefore, fair cousin, said Sir
Launcelot, let this speech overpass, and all shall be welcome that
God sendeth; and let us leave off this matter and let us speak of some
rejoicing, for this that is done may not be undone; and let us find a
remedy how soon that I may be whole.

Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bedside, and told Sir Launcelot how the
queen was passing wroth with him, because he wore the red sleeve at the
great jousts; and there Sir Bors told him all how Sir Gawaine discovered
it: By your shield that ye left with the Fair Maiden of Astolat. Then is
the queen wroth, said Sir Launcelot and therefore am I right heavy,
for I deserved no wrath, for all that I did was because I would not be
known. Right so excused I you, said Sir Bors, but all was in vain, for
she said more largelier to me than I to you now. But is this she, said
Sir Bors, that is so busy about you, that men call the Fair Maiden of
Astolat? She it is, said Sir Launcelot, that by no means I cannot put
her from me. Why should ye put her from you? said Sir Bors, she is a
passing fair damosel, and a well beseen, and well taught; and God would,
fair cousin, said Sir Bors, that ye could love her, but as to that I may
not, nor I dare not, counsel you. But I see well, said Sir Bors, by her
diligence about you that she loveth you entirely. That me repenteth,
said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Bors, she is not the first that hath
lost her pain