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Chapter IV
Sointheeveningtheydeparted,androdeasfastastheycouldtilltheycamenearthemount,andtherealighted;andthekingcommandedthetwoknightstoawaithimatthehillfoot,whilehewentupalone.
Thenheascendedthemountaintillhecametoagreatfire.Andtherehefoundasorrowfulwidowwringingherhandsandweepingmiserably,sittingbyanew-madegrave.Andsalutingher,KingArthurprayedherwhereforeshemadesuchheavylamentations.
“Sirknight,”shesaid,“speaksoftly,foryonderisadevil,who,ifhehearthyvoice,willcomeandstraightwayslaythee.Alas!whatdostthouhere?Fiftysuchmenasthouwerepowerlesstoresisthim.Hereliethdeadmylady,DuchessofBrittany,wifetoSirHoel,whowasthefairestladyintheworld,foullyandshamefullyslaughteredbythatfiend!Bewarethatthougonottoonigh,forhehathovercomeandvanquishedfifteenkings,andhathmadehimselfacoatofpreciousstones,embroideredwiththeirbeards;butifthouarthardy,andwiltspeakwithhim,atyondergreatfireheisatsupper.”
“Well,”saidKingArthur,“Iwillaccomplishmineerrand,forallthyfearfulwords;”andsowentforthtothecrestofthehill,andsawwherethegiantsatatsupper,gnawingonalimbofaman,andbakinghishugeframebythefire,whilethreedamselsturnedthreespitswhereonwerespitted,likelarks,twelveyoungchildrenlatelyborn.
