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.