r and good in every way. Each man mounts
his own home, and they ride at once at each other as fast as the steeds
can carry them; and when the horses are in mid-career, the knights
strike each other so fiercely that there is nothing left of the lances
in their hands. Each brings the other to earth; however, they are not
dismayed, but they rise at once and attack each other with their sharp
drawn swords. The burning sparks fly in the air from their helmets. They
assail each other so bitterly with the drawn swords in their hands that,
as they thrust and draw, they encounter each other with their blows and
will not pause even to catch their breath. The king in his grief and
anxiety called the Queen, who had gone up in the tower to look out from
the balcony: he begged her for God's sake, the Creator, to let them be
separated. "Whatever is your pleasure is agreeable to me," the Queen
says honestly: "I shall not object to anything you do." Lancelot plainly
heard what reply the Queen made to the king's request, and from
that time he ceased to fight and renounced the struggle at once. But
Meleagant does not wish to stop, and continues to strike and hew at him.
But the king rushes between them and stops his son, who declares with an
oath that he has no desire for peace. He wants to fight, and cares not
for peace. Then the king says to him: "Be quiet, and take my advice, and
be sensible. No shame or harm shall come to thee, if thou wilt do what
is right and heed my words. Dost thou not remember that thou hast agreed
to fight him at King Arthur's court? And dost thou not suppose that
it would be a much greater honour for thee to defeat him there than
anywhere else?" The king says this to see if he can so influence him as
to appease him and separate them. And Lancelot, who was impatient to
go in search of my lord Gawain, requests leave of the king and Queen to
depart. With their permission he goes away toward the water-bridge, and
after him there followed a great company of knights. But it would have
suited him very well, if many of those who went had stayed behind. They
make long days' journeys until they approach the water-bridge, but are
still about a league from it. Before they came in sight of the bridge, a
dwarf came to meet them on a mighty hunter, holding a scourge with which
to urge on and incite his steed. In accordance with his instructions, he
at once inquired: "Which of you is Lancelot? Don't conceal him from me;
I am of