the damoysels enchauntement the swerd Excalibur felle oute of
Accolons hande to the erthe. And therwith alle syre Arthur lyghtely
lepte to hit, and gate hit in his hand, and forwith al he knewe
that it was his suerd Excalibur, & sayd thow hast ben from me al to
long, & moche dommage hast thow done me. * * * And therwith syr
Arthur russhed on hym with hys myghte, and pulled hym to the erthe,
and thenne russhed of his helme, and gaf hym suche a buffet on the
hede that the blood cam oute at his eres, his nose & his mouthe.
Now wyll I slee the said Arthur. Slee me ye may wel, said Accolon,
and it please yow, for ye ar the best knyghte that euer I fonde,
and I see wel that god is with yow.

The knights of the Round Table had much more difficulty in dealing with
one another than in overcoming the most redoubtable giants. Sir
Launcelot arrived at a giant's castle,[20] and "he looked aboute, and
sawe moche peple in dores and wyndowes that sayd fayre knyghte thow art
unhappy. Anone with al cam there vpon hym two grete gyaunts wel armed
al sauf the hedes, with two horryble clubbes in theyr handes. Syre
Launcelot put his sheld afore hym and put the stroke aweye of the one
gyaunt, and with his swerd he clafe his hede a sondre. Whan his felaw
sawe that, he ran awey as he were wood, for fere of the horryble
strokes, & laucelot after hym with al his myzt & smote hym on the
sholder, and clafe hym to the nauel. Thenne Syre Launcelot went in to
the halle, and there came afore hym thre score ladyes and damoysels,
and all kneled unto hym, and thanked God and hym of their
delyveraunce." The horrors of battle as recounted by the romancers lose
much of their painfulness by the enjoyment which the combatants take in
them, and by the facility with which the most terrible wounds are
healed. The mediæval passion for conflict and violence could hardly be
more strikingly illustrated than by the words of the mother of