And Sir Lavaine rode after him, sad at heart, for the broken spear still stuck fast in Sir Lancelot’s side, and the blood streamed sorely from the wound.  Anon they came near a wood more than a mile from the lists, where he knew he could be hidden.

Then said he to Sir Lavaine, “O gentle knight, help me to pull out this spear-head from my side, for the pain thereof nigh killeth me.”

“Dear lord,” said he, “I fain would help ye; but I dread to draw it forth, lest ye should die for loss of blood.”

“I charge you as you love me,” said Sir Lancelot, “draw it out.”

So they dismounted, and with a mighty wrench Sir Lavaine drew the spear forth from Sir Lancelot’s side; whereat he gave a marvellous great shriek and ghastly groan, and all his blood leaped forth in a full stream.  Then he sank swooning to the earth, with a visage pale as death.

“Alas!” cried Sir Lavaine, “what shall I do now?”

And then he turned his master’s face towards the wind, and sat by him nigh half an hour while he lay quiet as one dead.  But at the last he lifted up his eyes, and said, “I pray ye bear me on my horse again, and lead me to a hermit who dwelleth within two miles hence, for he was formerly a knight of Arthur’s court, and now hath mighty skill in medicine and herbs.”

So with great pain Sir Lavaine got him to his horse, and led him to the hermitage within the wood, beside a stream.  Then knocked he with his spear upon the door, and prayed to enter.  At that a child came out, to whom he said, “Fair child, pray the good man thy master to come hither and let in a knight who is sore wounded.”

Anon came out the knight-hermit, whose name was Sir Baldwin, and asked, “Who is this wounded knight?”

“I know not,” said Sir Lavaine, “save that he is the noblest knight I ever met with, and hath done this day such marvellous deeds of arms against King Arthur that he hath won the prize of the tourney.”

Then the hermit gazed long on Sir Lancelot, and hardly knew him, so pale he was with bleeding, yet said he at the last, “Who art thou, lord?”

Sir Lancelot answered feebly, “I am a stranger knight adventurous, who laboureth through many realms to win worship.”

“Why hidest thou thy name, dear lord, from me?” cried Sir Baldwin; “for in sooth I know thee now to be the noblest knight in all the world—­my lord Sir Lancelot du Lake, with whom I long had fellowship at the Round Table.”

“Since ye know me, fair sir,” said he, “I pray ye, for Christ’s sake, to help me if ye may.”

“Doubt not,” replied he, “that ye shall live and fare right well.”

Then he staunched his wound, and gave him strong medicines and cordials till he was refreshed from his faintness and came to himself again.

Now after the jousting was done King Arthur held a feast, and asked to see the knight with the red sleeve that he might take the prize.  So they told him how that knight had ridden from the field wounded nigh to death.  “These be the worst tidings I have heard for many years,” cried out the king; “I would not for my kingdom he were slain.”