"I fancy that when I overcome this knight and prepare to hang him,
yonder good lady will give herself to me to save him. For she seems
to care overmuch for him and greatly do I wish I were in his place.
Yet must she be the lady of the Red Knight." So he mused.

They fought all of the afternoon. Now one would grovel in the earth,
the other too weak to carry the battle to successful conclusion, now
the second would grow equally weak.

Then did they rest again and Breunor and Allan brought water for Sir
Gareth so that he could drink and bathe his face. They rested for a
half hour and then battled once again.

Now the younger knight seemed weaker. The Red Knight pressed him hard
as he saw this. Things began to look dark for the lady's champion.

She, too, saw this. And coming far to the edge of the balcony she
called out.

"Sir Gareth, I pray for your success." And as he looked toward her
there was a great, eager light on her countenance. It gave to him
renewed strength, renewed faith. As if he had ten men's strength. And
so he turned on the Red Knight and the other could not withstay him.
Fearfully he struck him, such a fearful blow that the Red Knight never
moved again. Yet even as his foe succumbed, the victor slowly
crumbled to the ground, spent and so weak that for a few seconds
Allan, Breunor le Noire and the two ladies who had hurried to him,
thought he was dead.