ceval, "have I thrown myself on this your hostel to
lodge with you, wherefore to blame would you be to do me evil. But
lodge me this night as behoveth one knight do for another, and on the
morrow at departing let each do the best he may."

"By my head!" saith Chaos the Red, "mortal enemy of mine will I never
harbour here save I harbour him dead."

He runneth to the hall above, and armeth himself as swiftly as he may,
and taketh his sword all naked in his hand and cometh back to the place
where Perceval was, right full of anguish of heart for this that he
said, that he would war upon his mother and had reft her of this
castle. He flung his spear to the ground, and goeth toward him on foot
and dealeth him a huge buffet above the helmet upon the coif of his
habergeon, such that he cleaveth the mail and cutteth off two
fingers'-breadth of the flesh in such sort that he made him reel three
times round.

X.

When Chaos the Red felt himself wounded, he was sore grieved thereof,
and cometh toward Perceval and striketh him a great buffet above in the
midst of his helmet, so that he made the sparks fly and his neck stoop
and his eyes sparkle of stars. And the blow slippeth down on to the
shield, so that it is cleft right down to the boss. Perceval felt his
neck stiff and heavy, and feeleth that the knight is sturdy and of
great might. He cometh back towards him, and thinketh to strike him
above in the midst of his head, but Chaos swerved aside from him;
howbeit Perceval reached him and caught his right arm and cutteth it
sheer from his side, sword and all, and sendeth it flying to the
ground, and Chaos runneth upon him, thinking to grapple him with his
left arm, but his force was waning; nathless right gladly would he have
avenged himself and he might. Howbeit, Perceval setteth on him again
that loved him not in his heart, and smiteth him again above on the
head, and dealeth him such a buffet as maketh his brains be all
to-scattered abroad. His household and servants were at the windows of
the hall. When they see that their lord is nigh to the death, they cry
to Perceval: "Sir, you have slain the hardiest knight in the kingdom of
Logres, and him that was most redoubted of his enemies; but we can do
no otherwise; we know well that this castle is your mother's and ought
to be yours. We challenge it not; wherefore may you do your will of
whatsoever there is in the castle; but allow us to go to our lord that
there lie