Then did they put their spears in rest, and came together at the fullest speed of their horses, and smote each other in the midst of their shields, so that their horses’ harness sundered by the shock, and they fell to the ground.  And both lay there so long time, stunned, that many deemed their necks were broken.  And all men said the strange knight was a strong man, and a noble jouster, for none had ever yet so matched the Knight of the Redlands.  Then, in a while, they rose, and putting up their shields before them, drew their swords, and fought with fury, running at each other like wild beasts—­now striking such buffets that both reeled backwards, now hewing at each other till they shore the harness off in pieces, and left their bodies naked and unarmed.  And thus they fought till noon was past, when, for a time they rested to get breath, so sorely staggering and bleeding, that many who beheld them wept for pity.  Then they renewed the battle—­sometimes rushing so furiously together, that both fell to the ground, and anon changing swords in their confusion.  Thus they endured, and lashed, and struggled, until eventide, and none who saw knew which was the likeliest to win; for though the Knight of the Redlands was a wily and subtle warrior, his subtlety made Sir Beaumains wilier and wiser too.  So once again they rested for a little space, and took their helms off to find breath.

But when Sir Beaumains’ helm was off, he looked up to Dame Lyones, where she leaned, gazing and weeping, from her window.  And when he saw the sweetness of her smiling, all his heart was light and joyful, and starting up, he bade the Knight of the Redlands make ready.  Then did they lace their helms and fight together yet afresh, as though they had never fought before.  And at the last, the Knight of the Redlands with a sudden stroke smote Sir Beaumains on the hand, so that his sword fell from it, and with a second stroke upon the helm he drove him to the earth.  Then cried aloud the damsel Linet, “Alas!  Sir Beaumains, see how my sister weepeth to behold thee fallen!” And when Sir Beaumains heard her words, he sprang upon his feet with strength, and leaping to his sword, he caught it; and with many heavy blows pressed so sorely on the Knight of the Redlands, that in the end he smote his sword from out his hand, and, with a mighty blow upon the head, hurled him upon the ground.

Then Sir Beaumains unlaced his helm, and would have straightway slain him, but the Knight of the Redlands yielded, and prayed for mercy.  “I may not spare thee,” answered he, “because of the shameful death which thou hast given to so many noble knights.”  “Yet hold thy hand, Sir knight,” said he, “and hear the cause.  I loved once a fair damsel, whose brother was slain, as she told me, by a knight of Arthur’s court, either Sir Lancelot, or Sir Gawain; and she prayed me, as I truly loved her, and by the faith of my knighthood, to labour daily in deeds of arms, till I should meet