The two had not journeyed far before they saw a knight approach, armed all in white mail and mounted upon a white horse.  Immediately he laid his spear in rest and, charging King Bagdemagus, pierced him through the shoulder and bore him from his horse; and standing over the wounded knight, he said:  “Knight, thou hast shown great folly, for none shall bear this shield save the peerless knight, Sir Galahad.”  Then, taking the shield, he gave it to the squire and said:  “Bear this shield to the good Knight Galahad and greet him well from me.”  “What is your name?” asked the squire.  “That is not for thee or any other to know.”  “One thing, I pray you,” said the squire; “why may this shield be borne by none but Sir Galahad without danger?” “Because it belongs to him only,” answered the stranger knight, and vanished.

Then the squire took the shield and setting King Bagdemagus on his horse, bore him back to the abbey where he lay long, sick unto death.  To Galahad the squire gave the shield and told him all that had befallen.  So Galahad hung the shield about his neck and rode the way that Bagdemagus had gone the day before; and presently he met the White Knight, whom he greeted courteously, begging that he would make known to him the marvels of the red-cross shield.  “That will I gladly,” answered the White Knight.  “Ye must know, Sir Knight, that this shield was made and given by Joseph of Arimathea to the good King Evelake of Sarras, that, in the might of the holy symbol, he should overthrow the heathen who threatened his kingdom.  But afterwards, King Evelake followed Joseph to this land of Britain where they taught the true faith unto the people who before were heathen.  Then when Joseph lay dying, he bade King Evelake set the shield in the monastery where ye lay last night, and foretold that none should wear it without loss until that day when it should be taken by the knight, ninth and last in descent from him, who should come to that place the fifteenth day after receiving the degree of knighthood.  Even so has it been with you, Sir Knight.”  So saying, the unknown knight disappeared and Sir Galahad rode on his way.

After Sir Launcelot had parted from his fellows at the Castle of Vagon, he rode many days through the forest without adventure, till he chanced upon a knight close by a little hermitage in the wood.  Immediately, as was the wont of errant knights, they prepared to joust, and Launcelot, whom none before had overthrown, was borne down, man and horse, by the stranger knight.  Thereupon a nun, who dwelt in the hermitage, cried:  “God be with thee, best knight in all this world,” for she knew the victor for Sir Galahad.  But Galahad, not wishing to be known, rode swiftly away; and presently Sir Launcelot got to horse again and rode slowly on his way, shamed and doubting sorely in his heart whether this quest were meant for him.