“God, thou all-glorious King! how shall I meet this fiend? The world I'll hold not at a denier's price till he doth sue for grace!”
Then wielding his long lance,—
“This time,” he loudly to the yeoman cried, “or thou or I shall fall.”
The yeoman from his girdle plucked his knife, and made reply:
“Ere that thou leave this spot thou'lt pay the toll!”
“Ay, that will I,” quoth Jaufry, “take my promise on't; before we part, thou shalt have toll enough!”
He once again renewed a brisk attack, but still the other dodged; and ere that Jaufry could draw-in the rein, with mighty spring upon the horse he leapt and round Sir Jaufry's body twined his arms.
“Stir not, sir knight,” he cried, “unless thou wish for death.”
When Jaufry felt himself thus rudely seized, his mind was in a maze, and for a time incapable of thought. The yeoman held him with such strait embrace he could not stir a limb, while in his ear he hissed his future fate: how that a prison should his body hold, where tortures, griefs, unheard-of pains, should vex him evermore. Till break of day his arms were round him clasped; but when the stars were gone, then Jaufry communed with himself and said:
“Better to die for God, who made this earth, than let my body be a dungeon's prey. We'll see what can be done.”