Nothing daunted, Gamelyn replied, “You know my name and my father’s.  Sir John of Boundys he was, a good knight, and I am Gamelyn his son.  Come on, do your worst and let’s see whose arm proves the stronger!” “I know you, Gamelyn,” cried the champion.  “Young as you are, you are impudent and proud.  But come, we’ll soon settle this account.”

With that the fight began, and fierce was the struggle.  But Gamelyn stood firm against all his opponent’s efforts.  At last Gamelyn said, “Come, you have done your best to throw me; try now if you can defend yourself against one of my tricks.”

With that Gamelyn rushed at the champion, and with one rapid twist he threw him so heavily on his left side that his arm snapped and three ribs were broken.  “Now,” cried Gamelyn, “shall we count that a throw, or will you have another try?” “Not I,” said the champion.  “Never in all my life have I met so fierce a wrestler.  So far as I am concerned the prize is yours.”

Gamelyn stood in the ring to see if anyone else wished to dispute the prize, but no one came forward.  At last the stewards of the ring declared Gamelyn victor and he took his prizes and rode home, the crowd following him in admiration.

His brother saw the return from his castle.  “Shut the gate, porter,” he cried.  “We will never have Gamelyn inside this house again.”  The porter went about the business unwillingly enough, but when Gamelyn knocked at the door he refused to open, and bade him be gone.  “Not yet,” answered Gamelyn, “I have friends to feast.  Stay,” he said to the others, “yesterday there were five tuns of wine in my brother’s cellar, we will not part till we have drank them all dry.”

At that, without more ado, he kicked the wicket till the bolt broke.  The porter fled, but Gamelyn ran after him, struck him a mighty blow and threw him into the well.  All the servants when they saw this were terror-stricken, and not one dared to disobey Gamelyn’s orders.  A feast was prepared, wine brought, and for seven days and nights Gamelyn and his friends held revel in the hall; but his brother stayed in fear and trembling in his turret, never daring to show his face.

At last his companions had had enough of feasting and would go home.  In vain Gamelyn begged them to stay; one by one they departed and he was left alone.  Yet even so his brother did not dare to attack him openly.

“That you have wasted my goods I will forgive, but I have one thing on my conscience.  When I saw you throw my porter into the well, I swore that I never would forgive you till I had placed you in bonds as a punishment.  Now, when I forgive you freely, let me not be forsworn.  I will bind you to satisfy my oath and then we can live together in love again.”

Gamelyn thought no evil of his brother.  “Do as you will,” he said.  “Never for my sake shall you be forsworn.”  Then his crafty brother called to his men, and while Gamelyn stood still they bound him hand and foot in fetters and fastened him to a post outside the door of the hall, where everyone going in or out could see him.  Two days he stood there and his brother gave him no food, but told all those that came that Gamelyn was mad and must be kept bound, lest he should do someone a mischief.