Whilst making this exchange, a dwarf of frightful shape suddenly rushed from out a neighbouring grove. Stunted and broad and fat, he had a monstrous head, from which straight hair streamed down and crossed his back; long eyebrows hid his eyes; his nose was large and shapeless; nostrils so immense they would have held your fists; and thick and bluish lips rested on large and crooked fangs; a stiff moustache surrounded this huge mouth; and to his very girdle flowed his beard; he measured scarce a foot from waist to heel; his head was sunken in his shoulders high; and his arms seemed so short, that useless would have been the attempt to bind them at his back. As to his hands, they were like paws of toads, so broad and webbed.
“Knight,” cried this monster, “woe befals the man who meddles with that lance! Thou wilt receive thy dues, and dangle on our tree; come, then, give up thy shield.”
Sir Jaufry eyed the dwarf, and angrily replied:
“What mean you by such tale, misshapen wretch?” At this the dwarf set up so loud a cry that all the vale resounded; and at once a knight well armed, mounted upon a steed in iron cased, came, with high threats upon his lips exclaiming:
“Woe to the man who hath dared touch the lance!”
Having the hill attained, he Jaufry saw; and thereupon he said:
“By Heaven, sir knight! to do what thou hast done is proof thou carest little for thy life.”
“And why so, lord?” Sir Jaufry calmly asked.
“Thou shalt soon learn. No man doth touch that lance and get him hence without a fight with me. If I unhorse the knight so bold as dare to touch it, and conquer him by arms, no ransom saves his life,—I hang him by the neck; and on my gallows which thou seest from here full three-and-thirty dangle in mid air.”
“Tell me now faithfully,” Sir Jaufry said,—“can he who sues for mercy gain it at thy hands?”