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           ”ThentheHolyGraledepartedwiththetableandthesilvercandlestickintothechapel,sothatSirLancelotsawitnomore,norforhissins’sakecouldhefollowit.Andtheknightwhowashealedwentonhisway.

           ThenSirLancelotawake,andmarvelledwhetherhehadseenaughtbutadream.Andashemarvelled,heheardavoicesaying,“SirLancelot,thouareunworthy,gothouhence,andwithdrawtheefromthisholyplace.”Andwhenheheardthat,hewaspassingheavy,forhebethoughthimofhissins.

           Sohedepartedweeping,andcursedthedayofhisbirth,forthewordswentintohisheart,andheknewwhereforehewasthusdrivenforth.Thenhewenttoseekhisarmsandhorse,butcouldnotfindthem;andthenhecalledhimselfthewretchedestandmostunhappyofallknights,andsaid,“Mysinhathbroughtmeuntogreatdishonour:forwhenIsoughtearthlyhonours,Iachievedthemever;butnowItakeuponmeholythings,myguiltdothhinderme,andshamethme;thereforehadInopowertostirorspeakwhentheholybloodappearedbeforeme.”

           Sothushesorrowedtillitwasday,andheheardthebirdssing;thenwashesomewhatcomforted,anddepartingfromthecrossonfoot,hecameintoawildforest,andtoahighmountain,andtherehefoundahermitage;and,kneelingbeforethehermitdownuponbothhisknees,hecriedformercyforhiswickedworks,andprayedhimtohearhisconfession.