"I shall not seek an excuse for that deed," said Lancelot. "I would with as good will have slain my nephew Sir Bors. All I may say is that it was done in the heat of battle, and I knew not they were slain till word was brought me here."
"You lie in your teeth!" cried Gawaine. "You killed them in despite of me; and for this foul deed I shall make war on you while I live."
"If you are so hotly set, there is no use for me to seek accord; yet I am truly sorry for their deaths and your enmity. Only for this I would soon have the good grace of my lord Arthur."
"That may be, traitor, but you will wait long for peace. You have lorded it over me, and the whole of us, too long, and slain knights at your will. Now our turn has come."
"No one dare say that I ever killed a knight through treachery, as you, Gawaine, have done."
"You mean Sir Lamorak. Him I slew, man to man."
"Who lies now? You know well that you and the crew that set upon him dared not meet him face to face. You struck him treacherously from behind."
"A truce to Lamorak. This you may know, that I will never leave you till I deal with you as I did with him."
"Murder me, you mean! I fancy you might if you caught me in such a strait, which you will not easily do."
Then others took the cue from Gawaine, and the cry went up from many voices: "False and recreant knight! how long will you hide behind your castle walls, like a rat in his hole?"