to help thee unto that wherewith I might perchance mount some goodly
bough for the crows to peck at," replied Tarquin. Terrible and unceasing
was the struggle; but in vain the giant knight attempted to regain the
use of his sword. Then Sir Lancelot, with a wary eye, finding no hope of
his life save in the use or accomplishment of some notable stratagem,
bethought him of the attempt to throw his adversary by a sudden feint.
To this end he pressed against him heavily and with his whole might,
then darting suddenly aside, Sir Tarquin fell to the ground with a loud
cry; which Sir Lancelot espying, leapt joyfully upon him, thinking to
overcome his enemy; but the latter, too cunning to be thus caught at
unawares, kept his sword firmly holden, and his enemy was still
unprovided with the means of defence. Now did Sir Lancelot begin to
doubt what course he should pursue, when suddenly the damsel, who,
having bound up the wounds of the captive knight as he lay, and now sat
a little way off watching the event, cried out with a shrill voice--

"Sir Knight, the tree:--a goodly bough for the gathering." Then did Sir
Lancelot remember the weapons that were there, along with the shields
and the body-armour of the knights Sir Tarquin had vanquished. Starting
up, ere his enemy had recovered himself, he snatched a broad falchion
from the bough, and again defied him to the combat. But the fight was
fiercer than before; so that being sore wounded, and the day exceeding
hot, they were after a season fain to pause for breath.

"Thou art the bravest knight I ever encountered," said Sir Tarquin, "and
I would crave thy country and thy name; for, by my troth and the honour
of my gods, I will give thee thy request on one condition, and release
thy brethren of the Round Table; for why should two knights of such pith
and prowess slay each other in one day?"