Then they began to strive which of them should have the care of him.  But Queen Morgan le Fay, King Arthur’s half sister, the great sorceress, was one of them, and said “We need not strive for him, I have enchanted him, so that for six hours more he shall not wake.  Let us take him to my castle, and, when he wakes, himself shall choose which one of us he would rather serve.”  So Sir Lancelot was laid upon his shield and borne on horseback between two knights, to the castle, and there laid in a cold chamber, till the spell should pass.

Anon, they sent him a fair damsel, bearing his supper, who asked him, “What cheer?”

“I cannot tell, fair damsel,” said he, “for I know not how I came into this castle, if it were not by enchantment.”

“Sir,” said she, “be of good heart, and to-morrow at the dawn of day, ye shall know more.”

And so she left him alone, and there he lay all night.  In the morning early came the four queens to him, passing richly dressed; and said, “Sir knight, thou must understand that thou art our prisoner, and that we know thee well for King Ban’s son, Sir Lancelot du Lake.  And though we know full well there is one lady only in this world may have thy love, and she Queen Guinevere—­King Arthur’s wife—­yet now are we resolved to have thee to serve one of us; choose, therefore, of us four which thou wilt serve.  I am Queen Morgan le Fay, Queen of the land of Gore, and here also is the Queen of Northgales, and the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Out Isles.  Choose, then, at once, for else shall thou abide here, in this prison, till thy death.”

“It is a hard case,” said Sir Lancelot, “that either I must die, or choose one of you for my mistress!  Yet had I rather die in this prison than serve any living creature against my will.  So take this for my answer.  I will serve none of ye, for ye be false enchantresses.  And as for my lady, Queen Guinevere, whom lightly ye have spoken of, were I at liberty I would prove it upon you or upon yours she is the truest lady living to her lord the king.”

“Well,” said the queen, “is this your answer, that ye refuse us all?”

“Yea, on my life,” said Lancelot, “refused ye be of me.”

So they departed from him in great wrath, and left him sorrowfully grieving in his dungeon.

At noon the damsel came to him and brought his dinner, and asked him as before, “What cheer?”

“Truly, fair damsel,” said Sir Lancelot, “in all my life never so ill.”

“Sir,” replied she, “I grieve to see ye so, but if ye do as I advise, I can help ye out of this distress, and will do so if you promise me a boon.”

“Fair damsel,” said Sir Lancelot, “right willingly will I grant it thee, for sorely do I dread these four witch-queens, who have destroyed and slain many a good knight with their enchantments.”

Then said the damsel, “Sir, wilt thou promise me to help my father on next Tuesday, for he hath a tournament with the King of Northgales, and last Tuesday lost the field through three knights of King Arthur’s court, who came against him.  And if next Tuesday thou wilt aid him, to-morrow, before daylight, by God’s grace, I will deliver thee.”