Lady of the Lake

When one sits with this story of the Lady of the Lake and allows it to reveal itself, it contains much wisdom. The story is for both genders. We all are Arthure.

So they rode tyll they com to a laake that was a fayre water and brode. And in the myddis Arthure was ware of an arme clothed in whyght samyte, that helde a fayre sworde in that honde.
‘Lo,’ seyde Merlion, ‘yonder ys the swerde that I spoke off.’
So with that they saw a damesell goynge upon the laake.
‘What damesell is that?’ said Arthur.
‘That is the Lady of the Lake,’ seyde Merlion. ‘There ys a grete roche, and therein ys as fayre a paleyce as ony on erthe, and rychely besayne. And thys damsel woll com to you anone, and than speke ye fayre to hir, that she may gyff you that swerde.’
So anone come this damsel to Arthure and salewed hym, and he hir agayne.
‘Damesell,’ seyde Arthure, ‘what swerde ys that yonder that the arme holdith aboven the watir? I wolde hit were myne, for I have no swerde.’
‘Sir Arthyre,’ seyde the damsel, ‘that swerde ys myne, and if ye woll gyff me a gyffte when I aske hit you, ye shall have hit.’
‘Be my feyth,’ seyde Arthure, ‘I will gyff you what gyffte that ye woll aske.’
‘Well,’ seyde the damesell, ‘go ye into yonder barge, and rowe youreselffe to the swerde, and take hit and the scawberde with you. And I woll aske my gyffte when I se my tyme.’

(From Thomas Malory, The Tale of King Arthur)