if sore wounded. Sir Tarquin leaped nimbly from off his back; which Sir
Lancelot espying, he cried out--

"Now will I show thee the like courtesy; for, by mine honour and the
faith of a true knight, I will not slay thee at this foul advantage."
Alighting with haste, they betook themselves to their swords, each
guarding the opposite attack warily with his shield. That of Sir Tarquin
was framed of a bull's hide, stoutly held together with thongs, and, in
truth, seemed well-nigh impenetrable; whilst the shield of his opponent,
being of more brittle stuff, did seem as though it would have cloven
asunder with the desperate strokes of Sir Tarquin's sword. Nothing
daunted, Sir Lancelot brake ofttimes through his adversary's guard, and
smote him once until the blood trickled down amain. At this sight, Sir
Tarquin waxed ten times more fierce; and summoning all his strength for
the blow, wrought so lustily on the head of Sir Lancelot that he began
to reel; which Tarquin observing, by a side blow struck the sword from
out his hand, with so sharp and dexterous a jerk that it shivered into a
thousand fragments.

"Now yield thee, Sir Knight, or thou diest;" and with that the cruel
monster sprang upon him to accomplish his end. Still Sir Lancelot would
not yield, nor sue to him for quarter, but flew on his enemy like the
ravening wolf to his prey. Then were they seen hurtling together like
wild bulls--Sir Lancelot holding fast his adversary's sword, so that in
vain he attempted to make a thrust therewith.

"Thou discourteous churl! give me but the vantage of a weapon like thine
own, and I will fight thee honestly and without flinching."

"Nay, Sir Knight of the Round Table, but this were a merry deed withal,