“Barons, my lord attends you there beyond, that you may see him battle with a fool, who comes to seek his death.”
Mounting then speedily the castle-stair,—amid the tears and murmurs of the dames who ceaseless mourned,—he took him down the shield and lance suspended to the rack, and bore them to his lord, who, vaulting on his horse, nor stopping to don breastplate or aught else, cried in a haughty tone:
“Come to thy death, thou churl, whose sight offends me!”
Sir Jaufry, angered at the insult, then dashed at full speed upon the haughty knight, who like a lion came: so fearful was the shock, no saddle, girth, or art, availed Sir Jaufry. Down to the earth he rolled beneath the stroke. But not alone; for Taulat on his side, by blow as vigorous and deftly put, at the same instant fell, his shield pierced through, and Jaufry's lance within his side.
A shout of joy upsprang from those good knights:
“Good Heaven, but this day thou chast'nest Taulat, and dost break that pride which long hath vexed the land!”'
Jaufry meanwhile, his sword within his grasp, ran to fierce Rugimon, fast pinned to earth, as though some snake he were; but as he came, Taulat in humble tone exclaimed:
“For God's love, knight, O do not end thy work; for 'tis my folly that hath brought my death.”
“Thy folly, true, was great,” Sir Jaufry said; “but ere we part, I count on curing thee. Too long this pride endured, it now must have an end. Thou deem'st this morn no knight was in the world who in address and strength could vie with thee. Most brave no doubt thou wast; but thy consuming and most wicked pride exceeded far thy valour, and 'tis a vice God neither loves nor bears. Thou now canst learn that, but for His resolve to chasten thee, this youthful arm,—certes less robust than thine,—would ne'er have cast thee down. 'Tis but the punishment for thy fierce pride, the outrage thou to good King Arthur didst,—that flower of chivalry, whose uprightness God loves. And thus it fares with those who seek his shame: sooner or later will the knights, who sit at his Round Table famed, mete out their punishment, save 'neath the earth they hide. What they can do in fight, thou mayst surmise by me, a novice, scarcely two months armed, and who have sought thee day and night until this hour, when thou dost find the guerdon of thy deeds.”
“All that thou sayst, sir knight, is but too true,” Taulat replied in weak and failing voice; “but mercy grant me, as thy conquered foe, as dying man, and who doth yield to thee.”