A madame said launcelot / in this ye must holde me excused for dyuerse causes / one is / I was but late in the quest of the Sancgreal / and I thanke god of his grete mercy and neuer of my deserte that I sawe in that my quest as moche as euer sawe ony synful man / and so was it told me
"Ah madam, said Launcelot, in this ye must hold me excused for divers causes; one is, I was but late in the quest of the Sangreal; and I thank God of his great mercy, and never of my desert, that I saw in that my quest as much as ever saw any sinful man, and so was it told me."
"And of your infliction," cried Elizabeth with energy. "You have reduced him to his present state of poverty — comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule."
And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass.
