Good lord, remember ye of your night's dream, and what the spirit of Sir Gawaine told you this night, yet God of his great goodness hath preserved you hitherto.

Therefore, for God's sake, my lord, leave off by this.

For blessed be God ye have won the field: for here we be three on live, and with Sir Mordred is none on live.
And if ye leave off now, this wicked day of destiny is past.

Tide me death, betide me life, saith the king, now I see him yonder alone, he shall never escape mine hands, for at a better avail shall I never have him.

God speed you well, said Sir Bedivere.