s sword, that was sharp and strong, and smiteth his horse
right sore hard of his spurs, and catcheth the knight with his sword
right in the midst of his breast with a sweep so strong that he beareth
him to the ground beside his horse. He alighteth over him, unlaceth
his ventail and smiteth down his coif, then striketh off his head and
presenteth it to Perceval.

"Sir," saith he, "Here give I you of my first joust."

"By my head," said Perceval, "Right dearly love I this present! Now
take heed that you never again fall back into the cowardize wherein you
have been. For it is too sore shame to a knight!"

"Sir," saith he, "I will not, but never should I have believed that one
could become hardy so speedily, or otherwise long ago would I have
become so, and so should I have had worship and honour thereof, for
many a knight hath held me in contempt herein, that elsewise would have
honoured me."

Perceval answereth that right and reason it is that worshipful men
should be more honoured than the other.

"I commend these two damsels to your protection, and lead them to their
hold in safety, and be at their pleasure and their will, and so say
everywhere that you have for name the Knight Hardy, for more of
courtesy hath this name than the other."

"Sir," saith he, "You say true, and you have I to thank for the name."

The damsels give great thanks to Perceval, and take leave of him, and
so go their way with right good will toward the knight that goeth with
them on account of the knight he had slain, so that thereof called they
him the Knight Hardy.

VIII.

Perceval departeth from the place where the knight lieth dead, and
rideth until that he draweth nigh to Cardoil where King Arthur was, and
findeth the country round in sore terror and dismay. Much he
marvelleth wherefore it may be, and demandeth of some of the meaner
sort wherefore they are in so sore affright.

"Doth the King, then, live no longer?"

"Sir," say the most part, "Yea, he is there within in this castle, but
never was he so destroyed nor so scared as he is at this present. For
a knight warreth upon him against whom no knight in the world may
endure."

Perceval rideth on until he cometh before the master hall, and is
alighted on the mounting-stage. Lancelot and Messire Gawain come to
meet him and make much joy of him, as do the King and Queen and all
they of the court; and they made disarm him and do upon him a right
rich robe. They that had