Then as they rode together they saw a knight riding by that was all armed and dressed in green, and his horse had green trappings. When he came nigh the damsel he said to her, “Is that my brother the black knight that you have with you?”
“Nay,” she answered; “this is an unhappy kitchen-knave that hath slain your brother through mischance.”
“Alas!” said the green knight, “it is a great pity that so noble a knight should be slain by a knave’s hand.—Ah, traitor!” said he to Beaumains, “thou shalt die for slaying my brother.”
“I defy thee,” answered Beaumains; “for I let thee to wit that I slew him knightly, and not shamefully.”
Then they came together furiously, and the spears of both broke in their hands. So they drew their swords, and fought a full hard battle, and the green knight dealt Beaumains many sore strokes; but at the last, for all he could do, Beaumains got the better of him. So then the green knight yielded to Beaumains, and prayed him to grant him his life.
“All this is in vain,” said Beaumains, “for thou shalt die, except my damsel pray me to spare thy life and therewith he began to unlace his helm, as though he would have slain him.
“Fie upon thee, kitchen-page!” said the damsel; “I will never pray thee to spare his life, for I will never be so much in thy debt.”
“Then shall he die,” quoth Beaumains.
“Alas!” said the green knight, “suffer me not to die when a fair word would save my life.—O fair Knight,” he said to Beaumains, “do thou spare me, and I will forgive thee the death of my brother, and ever will be thy man, and thirty knights that hold of me shall be at thy commandment.”
“Thou art mad,” said the damsel, “to talk of a dirty kitchen-knave having thirty knights’ service.”