Now, whoever will heed my words,
must surrender to me his heart and ears, for I am not going to
speak of a dream, an idle tale, or lie, with which many another
has regaled you, but rather shall I speak of what I saw.
(Vv. 175-268.) "It happened seven years ago that, lonely as a
countryman, I was making my way in search of adventures, fully
armed as a knight should be, when I came upon a road leading off
to the right into a thick forest. The road there was very bad,
full of briars and thorns. In spite of the trouble and
inconvenience, I followed the road and path. Almost the entire
day I went thus riding until I emerged from the forest of
Broceliande. (4) Out from the forest I passed into the open
country where I saw a wooden tower at the distance of half a
Welsh league: it may have been so far, but it was not anymore.
Proceeding faster than a walk, I drew near and saw the palisade
and moat all round it, deep and wide, and standing upon the
bridge, with a moulted falcon upon his wrist, I saw the master of
the castle. I had no sooner saluted him than he came forward to
hold my stirrup and invited me to dismount. I did so, for it was
useless to deny that I was in need of a lodging-place. Then he
told me more than a hundred times at once that blessed was the
road by which I had come thither.
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