him, and ever he hoped that 'twas his father who rode there, and that
he had crossed the water, but he thought within himself: "What doth it
profit a man to labour if he know it to be in vain? None will take me
over the water since I am a Moor, and of other countenance than the
dwellers in this land; this my journey is for naught. I may not do
better than return to the Hermit, that good man, there where I parted
from my comrades." He had neither eaten nor drunk since that he rode
thence; his head was dazed with hunger and with grief. He looked behind
and afore, and saw nowhere where food was in preparing, nor saw he man
nor woman, nor creature that had life, upon the seashore.

Then he rode swiftly upon the backward trail till he came once more
to the parting of the ways; there found he carpenter-folk hewing and
shaping timber, whereof they had made a great wheel. He saw a knight
sitting upon the ground, in sore distress, naked and covered with blood;
he had been brought thither to be broken upon the wheel, so soon as it
might be made ready. Well might his heart misgive him!

Morien who came thither saw the gleam of many a hauberk; there were
armed folk enow! Others there were who were but in evil case, unarmed,
and unclad, who were scarce whole. Their limbs were bandaged, some
the arm, some the leg, some the head, and stained with blood. And Sir
Gawain, who sat there sore mishandled, knew that well, and as Morien
came nigh, he cried, so that all might hear: "Dear my comrade, ye be
welcome. God give me joy of your coming hither! I am Gawain, your
comrade; little did I foresee this mischance when we parted, you and I,
at this cross-way! Have pity upon the sore stress in which ye see me.
May God who hath power over us all strengthen ye well; would that He
might here show forth His power!"