It befell in the days of Uther Pendragon, when he was king of all England, and so reigned, that there was a mighty duke in Cornwall that held war against him long time. And the duke was called the duke of Tintagil.

What, nephew, said the king, is the wind in that door?

Then he looked by him, and was ware of a damsel that came riding as fast as her horse might gallop upon a fair palfrey. And when she espied that Sir Lanceor was slain, then she made sorrow out of measure, and said, O Balin ! two bodies hast thou slain and one heart, and two hearts in one body, and two souls thou hast lost.

We shall now seek that which we shall not find

Enough is as good as a feast.

Yet some men say in many parts of England that King Arthur is not dead, but had by the will of our Lord Jesu into another place and men say that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross.

The joy of love is too short, and the sorrow thereof, and what cometh thereof, dureth over long.